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THIRTY-SECOND  ANNUAL  REPOIIT 


OF  THE 


BUREAU  OF  AMEIUCAN  ETIIXOLOGY 


TO  THE 


SECRETARY  OF  THE  SMITHSOMAN  INSTITUTION 


1910-1911 


WASHINGTOK 

GOVERNMENT   I'KlNTINi!   OFPIOE 

1918 


e:99 


^/ 


LETTER   OF  TRANSMITTAL 


Smithsonian  Institition, 
Bttreau  of  American  Ethnology, 
Washington,  1).  C,  August  17,  1911. 
Sir:  I  have  the  honor  to  sul)init  herewitli  the  Tliirty- 
second  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Eth- 
nology, compi'ising  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  respecl  fully,  yours, 

F.    W.    IIODGE, 

Ktlni()l()(/isf-in-Charge. 
,  Di'.  Tharlks  T).  "W'atx'ott. 

tSccrcturij  uf  the  Sniithsoniau  Inslitution. 


CONTENTS 


REPORT   OF   THK    KTHNOLOOIST-IN-CHAUGR 

Systematic  rescMrcbes 9 

Special   researches 24 

Publications -JU 

Illustrations 30 

Library 31 

Prciierty 32 

Heconinicndatliins _    _            32 

ACCOM  l'.\.NVlN(i     1'A1M;I! 

Seneca  Fiction.  Letit'iuls,  ;iml   Myths:  collected  by  Jcrciuiah  Curtin  and 

J.  .\.  n.  Hewitt;  eillted  by  J.  N,  li.    Hewitt 37 

Index t(lo 

0 


REPORT  OF  THE  ETHNOLOGIST  IN -CHARGE 


THIRTY-SECOND  ANNUAL  REPORT 

OK   THE 

BUREAU  OF  AMERICAN  ETHNOEOGY 


F.  W.  Hodge,  Etlinologist-in-Charge 


The  operations  of  the  Bureaii  of  American  Ethnology 
for  the  fiscal  year  ended  Jnne  30,  1911,  conducted  in 
accordance  with  the  provisions  of  the  act  of  Congress  ap- 
proved June  25,  1910,  autlioriziug  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 :  ^Ir.  F.  \V. 
Hodge,  ethnologist-in-charge;  Mr.  James  Moon(;y,  J)r.  J. 
Walter  Eewkes,  Mrs.  Matilda  Coxe  Stevenson,  Air.  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  scvcial  as- 
sistants, for  research  in  connection  with  the  prepai'ation 
and  publication  of  the  Handbook  of  Aiiiciican  Indian 
Languages. 

Miss  Alice  C.  Fletclier  and  ]\lr.  Francis  La  I'Mesche,  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  Eeport. 

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  terms  that  have 
been  incorj)orated  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  sununarized  as 
follows : 

yir.  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),  which 
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  l)y  the  Committee  on  Printing  of 
the  House  of  Representatives.     The  Superintendent  of 


ADMIN  ISTRATIVK  REPORT  11 

Documents  has  likewise  been  in  receipt  of  many  orders 
for  the  worlv,  necessitatiuu,-  tlic  rej)rintin,t>;  of  part  1  some 
mouths  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  3'ear,  but  lack 
of  funds  necessary  for  th(>  em])loyment  of  special  assistants 
prevented  the  i)rosecutiou  of  this  work  as  fully  as  was 
desired. 

The  bureau  has  been  interested  in  and  has  conducted 
archeological  explorations  in  the  ])ueblo  reuion  of  New 
Mexico  and  Arizona  for  many  years.  Since  the  establish- 
ment of  the  School  of  American  Archeology  in  1907,  fol- 
lowing the  revival  of  interest  in  American  archeology,  by 
the  ArchcBological  Institute  of  America,  that  body  likewise 
commenced  sy.stematic  work  in  the  arclieology  of  that  great 
region.  In  order  to  avoid  duplication  of  effort,  ari-ange- 
ments  were  made  between  the  biivcau  and  the  scliool  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  undi-r  this  joint  arrangement  was  com- 
menced in  the  Rito  de  los  Frijoles,  northwest  of  Santa 
Fe,  New-  Mexico,  in  duly,  1910,  work  having  already  been 
initiated  there  during  the  previous  sununer  by  the  school 
independently,  under  the  directoi'ship  of  Dr.  Edgar  L. 
Ilewett.  In  August,  1910,  Mr.  ITodge  visited  New  Mexu'o 
for  the  ])ur|)ose  of  i)ai'ticipating  in  the  work  on  the  part  of 
the  bureau,  and  remained  in  the  field  for  a  inonth. 

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


12  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN    ETHNOLOGY 

community  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  structui'e  in  the  valley  have  been  bared  by  excava- 
tion. At  the  western  extremity  of  the  canyon,  far  up  in 
the  northern  wall,  is  a  natural  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  archeologieal  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  imj^lements,  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  callage  of 
Giusiwa.  About  30  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  w'ell  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  burial  therein  ceased  with 
the  coming  of  the  missionaries  and  the  establishment  of 


ADMINISTRATIVE    REPORT  13 

the  campo  santo  adjacent  to  tlie  eliurcli.  All  eolleetions 
gatliered  at  Giiisiwa  have  been  deposited  in  the  National 
Museum. 

Other  iuiHieiise  ruins  on  tlic  summits  of  the  mesas  bound- 
ing the  valley  on  the  west  were  examined  with  the  view 
of  their  future  excavation.  The  exact  position  oi'  the 
Jeniez  trit)e  amonji  the  Pueblo  i3eo})les  is  a  problem,  and 
both  archeological  and  ctluinlogical  studies  thereof  ai'c 
essential  to  its  determination. 

On  completing  this  reconnoissanee  excavation  was  con- 
ducted in  a  cemetery  at  the  great  stone  ])uel)]o  of  Puye,  on 
a  mesa  8  miles  west  of  tlie  Tewa  village  of  Santa  Clara. 
About  50  burials  were  exluinicd  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 
fortunate  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  irdiabitauts  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  tlie  native 
tei'ms  for  plants  and  animals  used  by  these  Indians  as 
food  and  medicine  in  ceremonies  and  for  other  i)urposes. 
The  expedition  was  also  fortunate  in  having  the  services 
of  Mr.  Sylvanus  G.  IMorley  in  eoin'.ection  with  the  excava- 
tions in  the  Rito,  of  Mr.  K.  M.  Chapman  in  the  study  of 
the  decoration  of  the  pottery  and  of  the  pictogi'aphs  of 
the  entii-e  u})per  Rio  (irandf  region,  of  JMr.  Jesse  L.  Nus- 
bauni  in  the  pliotographic  work,  and  of  Mr.  J.  P.  Adams 
in  the  surveying.  Valued  aid  was  also  rendered  by  Messrs. 
Neil  M.  Judd,  Donald  Tieauregard,  and  Nathan  Goldsmith. 

The  scieutitic  results  of  the  joint  research  are  ra|>i(lly 
nearing  comi)letion  and  will  be  submitted  to  the  bureau  1\>y 
publication  at  an  early  date. 


14  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN    ETHNOLOGY 

Throughout  almost  the  entire  year  Mr.  James  Mooney, 
ethnologist,  was  occupied  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  Januarj',  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  puel)los  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 
clift'-ruin,  were  greatl}^  in  need  of  repair.  Guided  l)y  resi- 
dent Navaho,  he  visited  several  hitherto  undescribed  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  JNlu- 
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  IMarsh  Pass  through 
the  middle  of  the  Navaho  National  IMonument  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  AVest  Canyon,  and  examined 
Insci'iption  House,  a  prehistoric  cliff-dwelling  of  consider- 
able size,  hitherto  undescribed,  the  walls  of  which  are  built 


ADMINISTRATIVE    REPORT  15 

of  loaf-shapod  adobes  strengthened  with  sticks.  On  ac- 
count of  the  size  and  great  interest  of  these  ruins,  it  is 
recommended  that  the  area  covered  thereby  he  inchided  in 
the  Navaho  National  Monument  and  the  ruins  permanently 
preserved,  and  that  either  Betatakin  or  Kitsiel  be  exca- 
vated, re})aired,  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  ethnol(»gical  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  pictogfaphs  of  Hopi  origin,  at  Willow  Spring,  not  far 
from  Tul)a,  the  tigures  of  which  shed  ligiit  on  Hopi  clan 
migration  legends. 

Refuniing  to  Flagstaff,  Doctor  Fewkes  reoutfitted  in 
order  to  conduct  investigations  of  the  ruins  near  Black 
Falls  of  the  Little  Colorado  Rivei',  especially  the  one  called 
Wukoki,  reputed  to  have  been  the  last  habitation  of  the 
Snake  clans  of  the  Hopi  in  their  stubhoru  migration  liefore 
they  finally  settled  near  the  East  Mesa.  A  little  more  than 
a  month  was  spent  at  these  ruins,  during  wdiich  time  ex- 
tensive excavations  were  made  in  numerous  sul)terranean 
rooms,  or  ]ut- dwellings,  a  new  type  of  habitations  found 
at  the  bases  of  many  of  tlie  large  I'uined  pueblos  on  the 
Tjittle  Colorado.  Incidentally  sevei-al  other  pueblo  ruins, 
hitherto  unknown,  with  accompanying  reservoii-s  and 
shrines,  were  observed.  The  excavations  at  Wukoki 
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  ])rayer-stick  box,  an  idol,  and  other  objects.  The 
results  of  llie  excavatioiis  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  I'lack  Falls  ruins, 
Doctor  Fewkes  returned  to  Washington  in  September  and 


16  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN   ETHNOLOGT 

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

At  the  close  of  January,  1911,  Doctor  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,  de'tecribed  by  Doctors  Mon- 
tone  and  Carlos  de  la  Torre.  AVith  this  preparation  he 
proceeded  to  the  Isle  of  Pines  and  commenced  work  near 
Nueva  Gerona.  In  this  island  there  are  several  caves 
from  which  human  bones  have  been  re]5orted  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  undeforraed,  well- 
preserved  human  cranium ;  and  many  fragments  of  j^elves, 
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  fi-agments  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  potteiy  accom])anied  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,  nl)oHt 
30  structures  known   as  cacimbas,  their  Indian  name. 


ADMINISTRATIVE    REPORT  17 

These  are  vase-shaped,  subterraneau  receptacles,  avcrag- 
m<^  6  feet  in  deptli  aud  4  feet  in  maximum  diameter,  j^en- 
erally  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  layci-  di'  tar.  On  the  ground  near  the  openings 
there  is  generally  a  level,  circular  space,  with  raised  pe- 
riphery. The  whole  appearance  supports  the  th(!ory  that 
these  structures  were  used  in  the  manufacture  of  turpen- 
tine or  tai',  the  circular  area  being  the  oven  and  the 
cacimba  the  receptacle  for  the  prochict. 

Doctor  Fewkes  found  that  tht>  Piueros,  or  natives  of  the 
island,  emplo\'  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  l)y 
saying  that  the  Indians  of  the  eastern  end  of  the  Isk'  of 
Pines  spoke  a  dialect  different  from  those  of  the  western 
end,  aud  that  when  those  from  Caraaguey,  who  were 
Tainan  and  of  eastern  Cuban  origin,  came  to  the  Isle  of 
I'ines  at  the  instance  of  the  Spanish  authorities  they 
brought  with  them  a  nomenclatui-e  different  from  that 
then  in  use  on  that  island. 

Several  old  Spanish  structures  of  masoniy,  the  dates  of 
which  are  unknown,  were  also  examined  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Santa  Fe,  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  c(>ui]»arahle  with  the  cave  in  Haiti,  in 
which,  according  to  Indian  legend,  the  smi  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, 

94610°— 18 2 


18  BUREAU    or   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  Fewkes  also  visited  several  of  the  coral  keys 
southwest  of  the  Isle  of  Pines,  but,  finding  no  aboriginal 
traces,  he  crossed  the  channel  to  Cayman  Clrande,  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,  j^robably  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  nmj  have  been  brought  from  adja- 
cent shores  they  afford  little  evidence  of  a  former  aborigi- 
nal population  of  Cayman  Grande.  The  elevation  of  the 
Ca^Tnan  Islands,  computed  from  the  annual  accretion, 
would  indicate  that  Cajanan  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  narae  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  libraiies 
and  archives,  as  the  basis  of  his  study  of  the  Creek  Indians. 
From  the  latter  part  of  September  imtil  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  reijardiiij? 
the  Creek  Indians,  colleeted  additional  data  for  a  trihal 
map  of  the  Indians  of  the  United  States,  and  initiated  a 
stndy  of  the  Natchez  lanjijuajie  with  tlie  special  object  of 
comparing  it  with  the  other  dialects  of  the  IMnskhogean 
family.  Doctor  Swaiiton  also  spent  somc^  time  in  studying 
the  Chitimacha  and  Tunica  languages. 

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

Mrs.  Stevenson  left  Washington  on  April  12  and  ])ro- 
ceeded  directly  to  the  country  of  the  Tewa  Indians,  in 
the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  in  New  Mexico,  for  the  ])ur- 
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  esoterie  life 
of  these  people,  and  is  daily  adding  to  her  store  of  knowl- 
edge respecting  their  religion  and  sociology.  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  peojile.  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  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN   ETHNOLOGY 

tribes,  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  stud}^  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  prej)aration  of  his 
sketch  of  the  granunar  of  the  Iroquois  for  incorporation 
in  the  Handbook  of  American  Indian  Languages. 

As  in  pi-evious  years,  Mr.  Hewitt  prepared  and  collected 
data  for  replies  to  numerous  correspondents  requesting 
special  information,  particularly  in  regard  to  the  Iroquois 
and  Algonquian  tribes.  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,  Zuni,  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 


ADMINISTRATIVK    REPORT  21 

Algonquian  tribes,  tlio  need  of  a  more  definite  liiimiisiic 
classification  of  which  has  h)ng  l)een  felt.  Doctor  Michel- 
son  returned  to  Washington  at  the  close  of  Novenil)er  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  Trilx^s," 
submitted  for  iniblication  in  the  Twenty-eighth  Annual  Ke- 
poi't.  Also  in  connection  with  his  Algonquian  worJc  Doctor 
Michelson  devoted  attention  to  the  further  revision  of  the 
material  pertaining  to  the  Fox  grammar,  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  fi'om 
White  Earth,  Minnesota,  by  enlisting  theii-  services  in  gain- 
ing an  insight  into  the  social  oi-ganization  of  that  tribe  and 
also  in  adding  to  the  bureau's  accumulation  of  Chipjx-wa 
linguistic  data.  Toward  the  close  of  June,  1911,  Doctor 
Michelson  ])roceeded  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.  I^iul  Hadin,  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  theii"  general  social  customs. 
Part  of  the  time  was  devoted  to  a  stu(l\-  of  the  Wimicbago 
material  cvilture,  but  little  progress  was  made  in  this  direc- 
tion, as  few  objects  of  aboriginal  origin  are  now  possessed 
by  these  people,  consequently  the  study  nuist  be  conqjleted 
by  examination  of  their  objects  ])reserved  in  museums  and 
pi'ivate  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  ethuo- 
logical  material  gathered  by  him  during  the  sevei-al  yeai-s 


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,  like  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  terra 
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- 
ment as  to  the  full  meaning  and  interrelation  of  these 
Osage  ceremonies,  there  appear  to  be  seven  divisions  of 
the  No°'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   REPORT  23 

From  Sauey  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  witli 
words  and  music  and  7  prayers.  All  these  have  been  tran- 
scribed and  in  part  translated  into  English,  comi)rising  a 
manuscript  exceeding  300  pages.  Tn  order  to  discuss  with 
the  Osage  the  meaning  of  these  rituals,  Mr.  La  Flesche 
found  it  necessary  to  commit  them  to  memoi'v,  as  reading 
fioiii  the  iiiaiiiiscript  disconcerted  the  old  seer.  At  Saucy 
Calf's  invitation  Mr.  La  Flesche  witnessed  in  the  autumn, 
at  Orayhorse,  a  pei-formance  of  th(^  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- 
coi'd,  if  ])()ssil)l(',  the  rituals  of  the  remaining  six  divisions 
of  the  No"'ho"zlii"ga  le'ta.  He  has  already  obtained  a 
paraphrase  of  the  seventh  ceremony  (the  Nik'in()"k'o"), 
and  hopes  soon  to  procure  a  phonographic  record  of  all  the 
rituals  pertaining  thereto. 

Tn  connection  with  his  ethnological  work  ^Ir.  r^a  Flesche 
has  been  so  fortunate  as  to  obtain  for  the  National  Museum 
four  of  the  waxo'be,  or  sacred  packs,  each  of  wliich  formed 
a  part  of  the  paraphernalia  of  the  No'"ho°zhi°ga  Te'ta,  as 
well  as  a  iva.ro'be-to"'f/((,  the  great  wa.ro'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"'h(>"zlii"ga  le'ta.  The  rites  of  the  tattooing 
ceremony  are  yet  to  be  recorded  and  elucidated.  AVhile 
the  ica.ro'he  is  the  most  sacred  of  the  articles  that  form  the 
paraphernalia  of  the  No"'ho"zhi"ga  Te'ta  rites,  it  is  not  com- 
plete in  itself:  other  things  are  indispensable  to  their  jxn-- 
formanee,  and  it  is  hoped  that  these  may  be  procui'(>d  at 
some  future  time. 

While  not  recorded  as  on(>  of  the  ceremonial  divisions  of 
the  No"'ho°zhi"ga  Te'ta,  there  is  a  ceremony  so  closely  con- 
nected with  it  that  it  might  well  be  regarded  as  a  part 
theicof :  that  is  the  U'asha'bcathi"  watsi,  or  the  dance  of 
the  standards.     The  introductory  part  of  this  ('('r('nion\-  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  RESEAECHES 

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. 

Tlirough  the  efforts  of  the  late  ]\Iajor  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  morpholog}^  of  all  the  languages  of  the 
continent.  In  order  to  do  this,  a  series  of  publications  was 
necessar3\  The  subject  matter  had  to  be  represented  by  a 
number  of  granunatical  sketches,  such  as  are  now  being  as- 
sembled in  the  Handbook  of  American  ludian  Languages. 
To  substantiate  the  inductions  contained  in  this  grammar, 
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  Tsini- 


ADMINISTKATIVK    REPORT  25 

shian  Texts,  and  Swanton's  Haida  and  Tlingit  Texts,  sub- 
sequently published,  form  a  part,  l)nt  at  the  time  Swanton's 
Texts  appeared  it  was  believed  by  Secretary  Langley  that 
material  of  this  kind  was  too  teehnieal  in  character  to  war- 
rant publication  in  a  governmental  series.  It  was,  there- 
fore, decided  to  discontinue  the  text  series  in  the  l)ulletins 
of  the  bureau  and  in  divert  them  t(t  the  I'uldications  of  the 
American  J'lthnolDgical  Society  and  11:.'  ('oluml)ia  ITinver- 
sity  Contributions  to  Anthropology.  Other  series  were 
commenced  by  the  University  of  ( -alifornia  and  the  Uni- 
versity (if  I'ennsyhania.  Th(>  melliod  of  publication  pur- 
sued at  the  present  time,  though  different  from  that  tirst 
planned,  is  acce])ta])le,  since  all  the  material  is  accessible 
to  students,  and  the  bureau  is  saved  the  expense  of 
puhlieation. 

Doctor  Boas  has  been  enabh'd  to  base  all  the  sketches 
in  the  first  volume  of  his  handbudk  on  accompanying  text 
series,  as  follows : 

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

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

(3)  Haida.  Texts  i^ublished  by  the  Bureau  of  Ameri- 
can Ethnology. 

(4)  Tsimshian.  Texts  published  by  .the  Bureau  of 
American  Ethnology  and  the  American  Ethnological  So. 
ciet\'. 

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

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

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

(8)  Algonquian.  Texts  published  by  the  American 
Ethnological  Society. 

(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 
])ub]ished  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  satisfactorilv.  The  sketch  of  the 
Takelma  is  in  page  form  (pp.  1-296),  but  Doctor  Boas  has 
undertaken  the  correlation  of  this  sketch  witli  the  Takelma 
Texts,  which  meanwhile  have  been  ijublished  by  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  commendable  enei'gy  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  witli  the 
Alsea,  Coos,  and  Siuslaw  group.  He  also  collect(»d  exten- 
sive material  on  the  Alsea  and  Molala. 

The  most  important  result,  which  is  appearing  more  and 
more  clearly  from  the  inv(>stigations  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 


ADMINISTRAllVE   REPORT  27 

that  of  linguistic  stocks.  Tn  1893  Doctor  Boas  called  at- 
tention to  the  fact  that  a  iiiiiiilici- of  languages  in  iiuiiliei'n 
British  Coluniliia  seem  to  have  certain  morphological  traits 
in  eoinnion,  l>y  which  they  are  sliarply  (liffoi'entiated  from 
all  the  neighboring  languages,  although  the  evidence  for  a 
common  origin  of  the  stocks  is  imsatisfactory.  Doctor 
Boas  ami  liis  assistants  have  l'ollo\vc(l  this  observation, 
and  it  can  now  be  shown  that  throughout  the  continent 
languages  may  be  classed  in  wider  morphological  grou]is. 
It  is  intei'esting  to  note  that  ])honetic  groups  may  be  distin- 
guished in  a  similar  mannei',  but  lliese  do  not  coincide  with 
the  mor])hological  groui)s.  These  observations  are  in  ac- 
cord witli  the  results  of  modern  inquiries  in  Afi-ica  and 
Asia,  where  the  influence  of  Jlamitic  phonetics  on  lan- 
guages of  the  Sudan  and  the  influence  of  Sumerian  on 
early  Babylonian  have  been  traceil  in  a  similar  manner. 
Analogous  conditions  seem  to  pi'cvail  also  in  South  Afi'ica, 
where  the  jdionetics  of  the  Bushman  languages  have  influ- 
enced the  neighboring  l^antu  languages.  In  this  way  a 
numl)er  of  entirely  new  and  fundamental  i)i'oblems  in  lin- 
guistic ethnography  have  been  fornndated,  the  solution  of 
which  is  of  the  greatest  imi)oi-tance  for  a  cl(>ar  understand- 
ing of  the  early  history  of  the  American  (\)ntinent. 

The  Handbook  of  American  Indian  1  languages  as 
planned  at  the  present  time  deals  exclusively  with  an  ana- 
lytical study  of  the  moiiihology  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  I'clation  of  dialects.  Doctor  Boas  recom- 
mends tliat  the  present  Handbook  of  American  Indian 
Languages  be  followed  b\'  a  sei-ies  of  handbooks  each  de- 
voted to  a  single  linguistic  stock,  in  which  the  develoi)ment 
of  viU'h  language,  so  far  as  it  can  be  traced  by  comparative 
studies,  should  be  treated. 

The  study  of  aboriginal  American  music  was  conducted 
among  the  ('hip})ewa  Indians  l)y  Miss  I*h'ances  Densmore, 
who  extended  her  Held  of  work  previously  begun  among 
that  people  and  elaborated  the  system  of  anal^'zing  their 
songs.     After  spending  several  weeks  on  the  I.ac  du  Mam- 


28  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN   ETHNOLOGY 

beau  Reservation  in  Wisconsin  she  accompanied  the  Chip- 
pewa from  that  reservation  to  the  Menominee  Resei'vation 
in  the  same  State,  where  the  Lac  du  Flambeau  Chippewa 
ceremoniall.y  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.  Nmnerous  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  anahi;ical  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  Drum-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  aecomi^any  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 
a])peared. 

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  tlie  tril)es  comprising  the  former 
Illinois  confederacy,  to  await  the  completion  of  the  copy- 
ing of  the  anonymous  manuscript  Miami-French  Diciion- 
ary,  attributed  to  Pere  Joseph  Ignatius  Le  Boulangcr,  in 
the  John  Carter  Brown  Library  at  Providence,  Rhode 
Island.  Through  the  courteous  permission  of  ^Ir.  (ieorge 
Parker  AN'iuship,  librarian,  the  bureau  has  been  enal)led  to 
commence  the  copying  of  this  manuscript,  the  difficidt  task 
being  assigned  to  Miss  Margaret  Bingham  Stillwdl,  uiidci' 
Mr.  Winship's  immediate  direction.  At  tlie  clos(»  of  the 
fiscal  year  20h  pages  of  the  original  (comprising  95  pages 
of  transcript),  of  the  total  of  155  pages  of  the  dictionary 
proper,  were  finished  and  su])iiiitted  to  tlie  bui-cau.  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  jM.  Ballon,  of  Honolulu,  has  continued 
the  preparation  of  the  List  of  Works  Belating  to  Hawaii, 
undertaken  in  collaboration  with  the  late  Dr.  Cyrus 
Thomas,  and  during  the  year  submitted  the  titles  of  many 
early  pul)lications,  including  those  of  obscure  books  prinTcil 
in  the  Hawaiian  language. 

Mr.  John  P.  Harrington,  of  the  School  of  American 
Arclueology,  proceeded  in  ^Tarch  to  the  Colorado  Valley 
in  Arizona  and  California  for  the  pur]iose  of  Continuing 
his  studies,  commenced  a  few  years  before,  among  the 
jMohave  Indians,  and  incidcnially  to  make  collections  for 
the  L'nited  States  National  ^iuseuni.  Mi-.  1  larrington  was 
still  among  these  Indians  at  the  close  of  July,  and  the  re- 
sults of  his  studies,  wliicli  cover  every  phase  of  the  life  of 
this  interesting  people,  are  to  be  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
the  bureau  for  jiublication. 

PUBLICATIONS 

The  general  editorial  work  of  the  bureau  continued  in 
inunediate  charge  of  Mr.  J.  G.  Gurley,  editoi-.  The  editing 
of  Part  2  of  Bulletin  30,  Handbook  of  American  Indians, 


30  BUREAU    OF   AMERICAN    ETHNOLOGY 

was  conducted  by  J\Ir.  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  Bidletin  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, 
B^-ington's  Choctaw  Dictionary,  a  work  requiring  the  ex- 
penditure of  consideiable  time  and  labor.  Much  of  Mr. 
Gurley's  time  during  the  year  was  given  to  the  work  of 
editing  and  proof  reading  the  Twenty-seventh  Annual  Re- 
port and  its  accom])anying  paper,  the  monograph  on  the 
Omaha  tribe,  by  Miss  Fletcher  and  Mr.  La  Flesche,  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. 

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

Bulletin  44.  Indian  Languages  of  jNIexico  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.  AValter  Fewkes). 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

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


AHMTNTSTRATIVE    REPORT  31 

the  members  of  visitino;  deputations  of  Indians  were  in 
ehars^e  of  Mr.  De  Laucey  Gill,  illustrator.  Of  the  246 
negatives  made,  120  compi'ise  portraits  of  visiting  Indians. 
In  addition,  372  photographic  films,  exposed  by  members 
of  the  huicau  in  connection  with  their  licld  \V(irk,  were 
deve]o])ed  and  ])rinted.  Photograjjhic  |)rints  for  ])ublica- 
tion  and  exchange  wei'e  made  to  the  number  of  1,4()9,  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 
chaigc  of  xMiss  Ella  Tjcary,  librarian.  During  the  year 
that  ])art  of  the  southeastern  gallery  of  the  lower  main 
hall  of  the  Smithsonian  Building  which  was  vacated  by  the 
National  ]\Iuseum  was  assigned  to  the  use  of  1he  bureau 
library,  and  three  additional  stacks  were  built,  providing 
shelf  room  for  about  2,500  volumes.  Nearly  that  number 
of  l)()()ks  whicli  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  INIaine  Historical  Society  and 
the  Archives  of  Pennsylvania,  both  lich  in  material  per- 
taining to  the  Indians.  As  in  the  past,  it  has  b(>en  neces- 
sary for  the  bureau  to  make  use  of  the  Library  of  Congix-ss 
from  time  to  time,  about  200  volumes  ha^dng  been  l)orrowed 
during  the  year.  Twelve  hiuidred  books  and  approxi- 
mately ih){)  pamphlets  were  received,  in  addition  to  the 
cuii'cnt  numbers  of  more  than  GOO  ])eriodicals.  Of  the 
books  and  pamphlets  received,  148  were  acquired  l)y  pur- 
chase, the  r(>mainder  by  gift  or  exchange.  Six  hundred 
and  eighty-nine  volumes  were  bound  bj^  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  BtTREAU    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  with  de- 
struction. The  catalogue  of  the  bureau  now  records  17,250 
volumes ;  there  are  also  about  12,200  pamphlets,  and  sev- 
eral thousand  imbound  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  i^revious  repoi'ts,  the  principal  i:)roperty  of 
the  bureau  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  systematic  researches 
of  the  bureau  and  of  affording  additional  facilities  for  its 
administration,  the  following  reconunendations  are  made: 

A  question  having  arisen  in  the  Conmiittee  on  Appro- 
priations of  the  House  of  Representatives  as  to  the  purpose 
for  which  an  increase  of  $2,000  iu  the  bureau's  appropria- 
tion in  1909  was  intended,  the  work  of  excavating  and  re- 
pairing antiquities  existing  in  national  parks  and  momi- 
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  yeai\ 


ADMINISTRATIVE    BEPOET  33 

Ethnological  research  in  Alaska  is  urgently  needed  by 
reason  of  the  great  changes  taking  place  among  the  Indians 
and  the  Eskimo  sinc(>  the  influx  of  white  ]ieo])le  a  few  years 
ago.  Unless  this  investigation  is  undertaken  at  once  the 
aboriginal  inhabitants  will  have  become  so  moditied  by 
contact  with  whites  that  knowledge  of  much  of  their  primi- 
tive life  will  be  lost.  It  is  recommended  that  tiie  sum  of 
$4,500  be  appropriated  for  this  work. 

The  more  speedy  extension  of  ethnological  researches 
among  the  remnants  of  the  Algon(iuian  tribes  foinicily 
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,  language,  and  cus- 
toms of  their  people ;  hence  it  will  be  impossible  to  gather 
much  of  this  information  unless  the  work  is  extended  uiore 
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  schools 
and  libraries  have  necessarily  been  denied.  The  need  of  a 
revised  edition  is  urgent,  but  the  re\'ision  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  constantl,v  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  acciunulated  in  the  course  of  its  investigations. 
As  no  funds  are  now  available  for  this  purpose,  it  is  rec- 
ommended that  a  reasonable  siun,  say  $1,000,  be  appropri- 
ated for  the  pui'iDose  of  furnishing  prints  for  educational 
purposes.  In  most  cases  aitplicants  woidd  doubtless  be 
willing  to  pay  the  cost,  but  at  present  the  bureau  has  no 
authority  for  selling  photographs. 

U4ei5°— 18 — 3 


34  BUREAU   OF   AMERICAN   ETHNOLOGY 

The  manuscripts  accumulated  by  the  bureau  form  a 
priceless  collection;  indeed  many  of  them,  if  lost,  could 
not  be  replaced,  since  they  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 
oud  for  providing  metal  cases  for  the  permanent  preserva- 
tion of  the  manuscripts. 

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


ACCOMPANYING  PAPER 


35 


SENECA  FICTION,  LEGENDS,  AND  MYTHS 

Part  1 


Collected  by  JEREMIAH  CURTIN  and  J.  N.  B.  HEWITf; 
edited  by  J.  N.  B.  HEWI'IT 


37 


CONTENTS 


Page 
Introduction- 43 

Pakt  1.  Material  Collected  by  Jeremiah  Curtin 

PICTION 

1.  The  sister  and  her  six  older  brothers 75 

2.  The  child  and  his  uncle ! 81 

3.  Djogeon  and  his  undo 84 

4.  The  woman  who  married  a  great  serpent 86 

5.  The  ghost  woman  and  the  hunter 90 

G.  Hahnowa  and  his  forces  on  the  warpath 92 

7.  The  old  man's  grandson  and  the  chief  of  the  deserted  villi^;e 95 

8.  The  man  who  married  a  huffalo  woman 98 

9.  A  woman  and  her  Ix'ar  lover 102 

10.  The  fox  and  the  rabbit 105 

11.  The  snake  with  two  heads 106 

12.  A  hunter  i)Ursue<i  by  (ienonsgwa 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.  Ohoh wa  and  the  two  sisters 1 15 

17.  A  great  snake  battle 117 

18.  The  <  )ngwe  las  and  his  younger  brother 118 

19.  llaieiidonnis  and  Yenogeauns 121 

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

21.  Deadoeiidjadases  and  the  old  woman's  grandson 135 

22.  Hat'hondas  (the  Listener) 1.39 

23.  The  story  of  the  Ohohwa  people 144 

24.  The  chestimt  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  his  nephew 223 

43.  Hinon  saves  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 251 

49.  Dagwanoenyent 261 

50.  The  shaman  and  his  nephew 262 

51.  The  horned  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 .  Genonsgwa 369 

68.  Hinon  Hohawaqk  and  his  grandmother 372 

69.  Hagowanen  and  Ot'hegwenhda 376 

70.  Okteondon  and  Haieiit'hwue.     Parti 389 

71.  Okteondon  and  Haieiit'hwus.     Part  II 309 

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 i 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 

TRADITIO.NS 

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 

Puee 

84.  S'hagodiyowoqgowa 437 

85.  Genonsgwa 437 

86.  Genonsgwa 43i) 

87.  GenonsRwa 440 

88.  Genonsijwa 440 

89.  Genoii.>igwa 441 

90.  Bald  Eagle  sonds  Mud  Turtle  around  the  world 450 

91.  The  poor  hunter  and  ]>jogeon 452 

92.  The  man  killed  by  the  three  hunters 453 

93.  Hinon  and  the  Iroquois 456 

■r.\i.KS 

94.  \  Fhaman  s  deed 457 

95.  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  (modern; , 457 

96.  S'hagodiyoweqgowa 458 

97.  The  vampire  skeleton 458 

MYTHS 

98.  .\  tale  of  the  sky  world 4(:0 

99.  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  and  llot'hoh 4(i2 

100.  The  morning  star  and  the  cannibal  wife 4(i4 

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  Ia.s  and  his  brother,  Dagwanoenyent 488 

MEDICAL    NOTE 

107.  Notes  on  the  medicine  nikahnegaah 491 

Part  2.  Semeca  Legends  and  Myths,  Collected  by  J.  N.  B.  IIewitp 

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

109.  Oiigwe'  llanges''ha'  and  Gajihsondis  (Skin-of-man  and  Spike-hitter) 601 

110.  Gaiihsondi.s.  the  .\mulet-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°'dii'da''ho"k 543 

115.  The  legend  of  the  mi.sogami.st 555 

116.  The  acts  of  the  seventh  son.  Djengo''.se' 5G5 

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   Deodyatgiioweu  (Deodii't,'a6'we6°'=IIis-body-is-bilid  or 

two-cleft) 607 

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

121 .  A  corn  legend  and  a  Hood  storj- 636 

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

123.  The  bean  woman  (a  fragment) 648 

124.  T.lie  legend  of  Onenha  (the  corn) 649 


42  CONTENTS 

Page 

125.  The  origin  of  white  corn,  or  kaneiihageiiat 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-8tanding-3tone) 680 

131.  The  legend  of  Genonsgwa 681 

1:"2.  The  legend  of  the  Stone  Cuata  (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  Doadanegeii  and  Hotkwisdadegefia 743 

138.  The  legend  of  Doadanegeii  and  Hotkwisdadegena  (text),  with  interlinear 

translation 756 

Notes 791 


SENECA  FICTION,  LEGENDS,  AND  MYTHS 


CollecteJ  bj-  Jekeuiah  Cubtin  and  J.  N.  B.  Hewitt  ;  editeil  by  J.  N.  B.  Hewitt 


T 


INTRODUCTION 

The  Seneca 

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


The  Seneca  (=Placc  of  the  Stotie)  are  a  noted  and  influential  tribe  of  the 
Iroquois,  or  the  so-called  Fitb  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  Serioca  lake,  liaviiig  tlieir 
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  I,.  Erie  and  southward  along  the  Alleghany  into  Pennsylvania.  They 
are  now  settled  chiefly  on  the  Allegany.  Cattaraugus,  and  Tonawaiida  res.,  N.  Y., 
and  some  live  on  Grand  River  res.,  Ontario.  Various  local  bands  have  been 
known  as  Buffalo,  Tonawanda,  and  Cornphmter  Indians;  and  the  Mingo,  for- 
merly in  Ohio,  have  become  officially  known  as  Seneca  from  the  large  number 
of  that  tribe  among  them.  ^ 

In  the  third  quarter  of  the  lOth  century  the  Seneca  was  the  last  but  one  of 
the  Ir(Miuois  tribes  to  give  its  suffrage  in  favor  of  the  alwlition  of  murder  and 
war,  the  suppression  of  cannibalism,  and  the  establishment  of  the  priiKii>les 
upon  which  the  League  of  the  Iroquois  was  founded.  However,  a  large  division 
of  the  tribe  did  not  ailopt  at  once  the  course  of  the  main  body,  but.  on  obtain- 
ing coveted  i)rivileges  and  prerogatives,  the  recalcitrant  body  was  admitted  as  a 
constituent  member  in  tlie  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  se<'retary  of  state  for  foreign  affairs,  in  addition 
to  their  duties  as  federal  chieftains;  indeed,  they  became  the  warders  of  the 
famous  "  (Jreat  Black  Doorway  "  of  the  I^eague  of  the  Iroquois,  called 
Kn'nho'huiidji'fiiyvCi'  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 
Hnfidonmii"hi''''.  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  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

at  the  first  federal  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 
number  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,  Hohnat'haiion'ni' ;  Bear,  Hodi- 
Ojionnt'ffa' :  Beaver,  Ho(ligc""!jepa';  Turtle.  Hadinia'detV ;  Hawk,  Hadis'hwe"'- 
gaiiu' ;  Sandpiper.  HodVne'si'iu',  sometimes  also  called  Snipe.  Plover,  and 
Killdee:  Deer,  Hadiiiiongtraiiu' ;  Doe,  Hodino''''deogd\  sometimes  Honnont'- 
goi'idjc"';  Heron.  Hodidaio"''gd'.  In  a  list  of  elan  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  tjie  ethnic  name  Seneca  is  that  on 
the  Oriuinal  Carte  Figurative,  annexed  to  the  Memorial  presented  to  the  States- 
General  of  the  Netherlands,  Aug.  IS,  1616,  on  which  it  appears  with  the  Dutch 
plural  as  Sennecas.  This  map  is  remarkable  also  for  th^  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.  1634.  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  thwart  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  Ca.vuga.  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  Dutch  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  hauts.  nommes  Son- 
touaheronnons  ■■  (literally,  'the  Iroquois  of  the  upper  country,  called  Soutoua- 
heronnons'),  the  latter  being  only  another  form  of  "les  Tsonnontouans"  (the 
Seneca)  :  and  to  the  first  group  the  designations  "les  Iroquois  inferieurs"  (the 
Lower  Iroquois),  and  "les  Hiroquois  d'en  bas,  nommes  Agneehronnons  "  (the 
Mohawk;  literally,  'the  Iroquois  from  below,  named  Agneehronnons').  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,  "  Te 
Oneidas  deemed  ye  first  nation  of  sineques."     The  Journal  of  the  Dutchmen. 

'  The  m.Tmiscript  of  this  .Tournal  wns  discovered  in  Amsterdam  in  ISfi.T  by  the  late  Gen. 
James  Grant  Wilson,  who  published  it  in  the  Annual  Report  of  the  American  Historical 
Association  for  the  .year  1805.  under  the  caption  "  .\rent  Van  Curler  And  llis  Journal  of 
1G34— 35."  But  the  Van  Rensselaer  Bowier  Manuscripts,  edited  by  the  learned  Mr.  A.  J. 
F.  van  Laer,  show  that  van  Curler  could  not  have  made  the  journey,  as  he  did  not  reach 
Rensselaerswyck  until  1637,  then  a  youth  of  only  eighteen.  It  seems  probable  that 
Marnien  Meyndertsz  van  den  Bogaert.  the  surgeon  of  the  fort,  was  the  author  of  the 
.Tournal.  Consult  the  Introduction  to  this  same  Journal  ae  published  In  "  Narratives  of 
New  Netherlsnd.  1609-16C4,"  ed.  by  J  Franklin  Jameson,  In  Original  Narratives  of  Early 
American  Historp  (Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  New  York,  1909). 


bewYtt]  ■      INTRODUCTION  45 

montloned  above,  records  tlie  intoresiing  fact  that  diirinc:  their  visit  to  the  tribes 
they  celebrated  the  New  Year  of  ]G3r>  at  a  place  called  Ennciiuttrhnija  or  ^inne- 
kens.  The  first  of  these  names  was  the  Iroquois,  and  the  second,  the  Moliegan, 
name  for  the  place,  or.  jiroferably,  the  Moliesjan  translation  of  the  Iroquois  name. 
The  Dutch  received  their  first  Ivnowledge  of  the  Iroquois  tribes  thronsli  the 
Mohegan.  The  name  Enncuvitchmja  is  evidently  written  for  OnSniutc'aoa'oe', 
'at  the  place  of  the  people  of  the  standing  (projecting)  stone.'  At  that  date 
Ibis  was  the  chief  town  of  the  Oneida.  The  Dutdi  Journal  identifies  the  name 
Siniukcns  with  this  town,  which  is  ])resuuiptive  evidence  that  it  is  tlie  Mohegan 
rendering  of  the  Iroquois  local  name  0)u'ii'iuic'.  •  it  is  a  standing  or  projecting 
stone',  employed  as  an  ethnic  appellative.  The  derivation  of  Sinnckcns  from 
Mohegan  appears  to  be  as  follows:  a'xinni.  'a  sfone.  or  rocl< '.  -Hca  or  -ipa,  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  wd-,  which 
was  not  recorded  by  the  Dutch  writers,  the  translation  signifies,  '  they  are  of 
tlie  place  of  the  standing  stone."  This  etymology  is  confirmed  l>y  the  Delaware 
name,  Wtassone,  for  the  Oneida,  which  has  a  similar  derivation.  The  initial 
tc-  represents  approximately  an  o-sound.  and  is  the  affix  of  verbs  and  nouus 
denotive  of  the  third  person;  the  intercalary  -t-  is  merely  euphonic,  being  em- 
ployed to  prevent  the  coalescence  of  llie  two  vowel  sounds;  and  it  is  evident 
that  assime  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.  Ileckewelder  erroneously  translated 
Wtassone  by  '  stone  pipe  makers.' 

Thus,  the  Iroquois  Onii'iiutc'tVgd',  the  Mohegan  SiiincJcens,  and  the  Delaware 
Wtassone  are  synonymous  and  are  homologous  in  derivation.  But  tlie  Dutch, 
followed  by  other  Europeans,  used  the  Mohegan  term  to  designate  a  group  of 
four  tribes,  to  only  one  of  whicli.  the  Oneida,  was  it  strictly  applicable.  The 
name  Sinnekenx,  or  iiennecaas  (Visschor's  map,  <■«.  1660),  became  the  tribal 
name  of  the  Seneca  liy  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  tlie  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  .l/cxix''"''"  (tbe 
Macchachtinni  of  neckcwelder),  which  signities  'great  mountain";  this  Is.  of 
cour.se.  a  Delaware  rendering  of  the  Iroquois  name  for  tlie  Seneca.  Djiionnndo- 
u-Cineii'Ctka',  or  Djiiononilowiini'tVron'no'".  '  I'eople  of  the  (Jreat  Mountain.' 
This  name  appears  di.sgnised  as  Trudamani  (Cartier.  103-1-:!;")) .  Entntthnnnrons, 
Chouonlniiaroiion  —  Chonnntouai-onon  (Chami)lain.  1615 1 .  OiicntDUarononx 
(Champlain,  1627),  and  Tsonontouan  or  Sonontouan  (Jes.  Uel.,  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  Sene<'a  and  Cayuga 
lakes. 

The  political  history  of  the  Sencc.-i  is  largely  that  of  the  I.e.igne  of  the 
Iroquois,  although  owing  to  petty  Jealousies  among  the  various  tribes  the 
Seneca,  like  the  others,  .sometimes  acted  independently  in  their  dealings  with 
aliens.  Hut  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  exerci.se  a  large  measure  of  autonomy  in  the 
structure  of  the  federal  government.     It  was  sometimes  apparently  imperative 


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

that  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  1622  the  Moutagnais,  the  Algonkin,  and  the  Hurons  sought  to  con- 
cludfe  peace  with  the  Iroquois  ( Yroq'Mots=Mohawk  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  spriug  of  1634,  made  peace  with  them.  Tlie 
Hurons  in  the  following  year  sent  an  embassy  to  Sonontouan,  the  chief  town  of 
the  Seneca,  to  ratify  the  i>eace,  and  vi'hile  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  .Jesuit  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  Ongniaahra  (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  tliey 
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  Aondlronnon,  and  killed  or  captured  as  many  of  its  inhab- 
itants as  iwsslble,  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  coniixised  the  larger  part  of  the  Iroquois  warriors  who 
in  1648-49  assailed,  destroyed,  and  dispersed  the  Huron  tribes:  it  was  likewise 
they  who  iu  1649  sacked  the  chief  towns  of  the  Tionontati,  or  Tobacco  tribe; 
and  the  Seneca  also  took  a  leading  part  in  the  defeat  and  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  neighboring  Cayuga. 

■This  Tillage  of  Ongniaahra  (Ongiara,  ODgutaaia,  and  Sndgiara  are  other  forms  found 
In  the  literature  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers)  was  situated  very  probably  on  or  near  the  site  of 
the  village  of  Youngstown,  New  York.  It  Is  the  present  Iroquoian  name  of  this  village, 
but  not  of  the  river  nor  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara. 

=  The  Aondlronnon  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  Ahondlhronnon.  The  nominal  part  that  Is  distinctive  is  thus 
Aondi  or  Ahondin,  as  written  In  the  Jesuit  Krlations.  The  modern  Iroquoian  form  Is 
f'.U'hi",  '  The  middle  or  center  of  the  peninsula.' 


^"S-m']  INTRODUCTION  47 

In  1652  the  Seneca  were  plotting  witb  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  niakinp;  peace  with  them,  a  tnoveniout 
which  was  probably  brought  about  by  tlieir  rupture  with  the  Erie.  But  the 
Mohawk  not  desiring  peace  at  that  time  with  the  French,  porh.ips  on  acco\nit  of 
their  desire  to  attack  the  Ilurons  (in  Orleans  Id.,  murf.ereil  two  of  the  three 
Seneca  ambassadors,  the  other  having  remained  as  a  hostage  with  (he  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  Oablon,  after  pressing  Invitations  to 
do  so,  started  from  Quebec  to  visit  and  view  the  Seneca  country,  and  to  estab- 
lish there  a  French  habitation  and  teach  the  Seneca  tli(>  articles  of  tlieir  faith. 

In  1657  the  Seneca,  in  carrying  out  the  iioiicy  of  Ihe  I.e.igue  to  adojit  con^iuero<l 
tribes  upon  submission  and  the  expression  of  a  desire  to  live  under  the  form  of 
government  established  l)y  the  League,  had  thus  incorporated  eleven  different 
tribes  Into  tlieir  body  politic. 

In  1^52  Maryland  bought  from  the  Minqua,  or  Susquehanna  Indians,  1.  e.  the 
Conestoga,  all  their  land  claims  on  both  sides  of  Chesapeake  bay  up  to  the 
mouth  of  Susquehanna  r.  In  1663,  SOO  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  dis:igreed 
with  them  and  had  withdrawn  their  alliance,  the  Conestoga  were  completely 
subdue<l  by  the  Fixe  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  Mohawk  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  Tontl,  to  serve  as  an  auxiliary  force  to  about 
1.200  French  and  colonial  levies,  to  be  employwl  in  attacking  and  destroying 
the  Seneca.  Having  reached  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  .'too  Seneca,  who  charged  and  drove  back  the  colonial  levies  and  their  Indiiin 
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 
ni.  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  sjinie  Seneca  ambushed  a 
British  force  composed  of  two  comiiaiiies  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  Si.'^ 
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.  an.n.  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  pos.session  of  this  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  protection  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  ^o  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  ISth  and  19th  centuries  were  chiefly  an  outlying  colony 
from  the  Iroquois  tribe  of  that  name  dwelling  in  New  York.  The  significant 
fact  that  in  historical  times  their  afBliations  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,(X)0.  Later  estimates  of  the  population  are:  3,500  (1721)  ;  1,750 
(1730);  5,000  (1765);  3,250.  (1778)  ;  2,000  (17S3)  ;  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. 

Chahacterization  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  te.xts  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  the}'  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 


ci: 

HE 


j."^!,'.;:!^]  iNTRonrcTiox        •  49 


exi)ressO(l  b}'  phenomena  or  processes  of  nature  in  human  cjuise  or  in 
that  of  birds  or  lieasls.  They  do  not  refer  to  the  phenomena  per- 
sonified as  thintis  unii|iie.  l)ut  as  equaled  oi-  fully  initiated  liy  human 
personajzes  made  i)otent  l)y  orenda,  or  majjie  power,  hence  they 
describe  a  i)eriod  lon<>:  after  the  advent  of  man  on  earth,  and  in  lliis 
respect  do  not  exhibit  tiie  character  of  myths. 

Ajiain.  in  .some  of  tiie  narratives  tiie  same  incident  or  device  ap- 
pears as  common  projierty :  that  is  to  say,  these  .several  stories  employ 
the  same  episode  for  the  |)iirpose  of  expansion  and  to  <rlorify  the  hero 
as  well  as  his  prowess.  -Vn  instance  in  point  is  that  in  wliich  the  hero 
himself,  or  others  at  his  order.  <ratiiers  tiu'  bones  of  the  skeletons  of 
other  ;ulventuri'Us  heroes  like  himself,  who  failed  in  the  tests  of 
orcnda  and  so  forfeited  their  lives  to  the  challeiiirer,  and.  hastily 
placinii  them  in  normal  positions  with  respect  to  one  aiiotlier.  quickens 
them  by  exdaimiiiir, ''  This  tall  hi(k(]ry  tree  will  fall  on  \(iu.  brothers. 
uidess  you  arise  at  once,"  while  jiushiuir  ajrainst  the  tree  itself. 
Sometimes  it  is  a  tall  pine  that  so  liijures  in  these  accounts.  Ajjain, 
a  i)n|iil  of  a  sorccrc'r  or  a  noted  witch  is  forbidden  to  iro  in  a  certain 
direction,  while  permission  is  iriven  to  <ro  in  any  other  direction. 
But  at  a  crtain  time  the  buddinir  hero  or  chatuijion  wizard  lioes 
surreptitiously  in  the  foibiildcn  dirci-ti<]n.  and  at  once  there  is  colli- 
sion between  his  orcndu.  or  uui^'ic  power,  and  that  of  the  well-known 
wizaiMls  and  sorcerers  dwellincr  in  that  (piarter.  This  pupil  is  usuallv 
the  oidy  livinir  ajrent  for  the  presi'rvation  of  the  orenda  of  .some  noted 
family  of  wizards  or  witches.  The  hero,  after  perforiiiin<r  certain 
set  tasks.  over<-omes  the  enemies  <if  his  family  and  then  brings  to  life 
tho.se  of  his  kindred  who  failed  in  the  deadly  strife  of  orendas. 

The  identiHcations  and  iiuerpretati\e  field  notes  accompanyiiiii 
Wv.  Curtin's  material  by  some  mischance  were  not  made  a  part  of 
the  ])resent  collection.  Their  loss,  which  has  addi'd  ^I'eatlv  to  the 
work  of  the  editor,  is  unfortiniate,  as  .Mr.  C'urtin  pos.sessed  in  so 
marked  a  ile<rree  the  powei'  of  seizin<r  rea<lily  the  motive  and  siii'iiili- 
cance  of  a  story  that  his  notes  undoi.btedly  would  have  supplied 
material  for  the  intellijretit  exiilanation  and  analysis  of  the  products 
()f  the  In<lian  minil  contained  in  this  memo:!-. 

The  texts  recorded  in  the  Seneca  dialect  by  Mr.  Ciirtin  were  \ery 
difTicidt  to  read,  as  they  had  been  recorded  with  a  lead  pencil 
an<l  had  been  ca.rried  from  place  to  ])lace  until  they  were  for  the 
•ireater  i)art  almost  illegible.  The  fact  that  these  texts  were  the 
rough  held  notes  of  Mr.  Ciirtin.  unrevised  and  unedited.  ad<led  to 
the  dillicidty  of  translating  tliem.  Fortunately,  in  editing  a  large 
jiortion  of  one  of  these  maiuiscripts,  the  editor  had  the  a.ssistance  of 
his  niece,  ^liss  ("aroliiu>  (i.  (\  Hewitt,  who  speaks  fluently  the  Seneca 
dialect  of  the  Inxjuois  languages. 

94615°— 18 4  •  •         . 


50  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth   anx.  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  Keservation,  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  the  freedom  of  these  Seneca  narra- 
tives from  coarseness  of  thought  and  expression,  although  in  some 
respectable  quarters  obscenity  seems  to  be  I'egarded  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  xVmerican  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 


nE''w'TTj  INTRODUCTION  51 

who  know  that  the  obscene  can  not  be  the  dominant  theme  of  the 
k'gciuhiry  lore  of  juiy  people.  Such  men  will  take  the  ne<'i'ss:irv  time 
and  troiilile  to  become  sufficiently  ar(|ii;iiiited  with  the  people  whose 
literature  they  desire  to  record  to  irain  the  contidcnce  and  licod  will 
of  the  teachei's  and  the  wise  men  and  women  of  the  coiinnuiiity, 
because  these  are  the  only  ])ersons  cajiahic  of  frivin<r  anylhiiitr  like  a 
trustworthy  recital  of  the  lejrendary  and  the  ])(i('tic  narrati\es  and  the 
sacred  lore  of  tlieir  people. 

Should  one  attempt  to  acquire  stan<lard  s|)eciinens  of  the  litera- 
ture of  the  white  peopU>  of  .Vmcrica  by  consultirii:  coi-ner  loafers  and 
their  ilk.  therein'  obtaininir  a  mass  of  coarse  and  obscene  tales  and 
stories  wholly  misrepresentinir  the  livin<;  lliouirht  of  the  frreat  mass 
of  the  white  people  of  the  conntiy.  the  pi'occiluie  would  in  no  wi.se 
differ.  seemin<!rly.  from  the  usual  coursi>  pursued  by  those  who  claim 
to  be  collecting  tlip  literature  of  the  .\merican  Indian  people  by  con- 
sulting immature  youth,  agency  interpreters,  and  other  ur;inf(iinu'd 
persons,  rather  than  by  gaiiiinij:  the  confidence  of  and  consulting  the 
native  priests  and  shamans  ami  statesmen. 

To  claim  that  in  Amei'ican  Iiulian  communities  their  story-tellei's. 
owing  to  alleged  Christian  inlhience.  are  editing  the  mythic  tales 
and  legends  of  their  people  into  a  higher  moral  tone  is  s[)ecious  and  is 
a  sop  thrown  to  religious  prejudice  for  the  purpose  of  gi\  ing  color 
to  the  defense  f>f  an  erroneous  view  of  the  nioi-al  tone  of  such  myths 
and  legends. 

It  is  notorious  that  in  this  transition  period  of  .\meriian  Indian 
life  the  frontiersman  and  the  ti'ader  on  the  boixlei'land  ha\e  not  lieen 
in  general  of  such  moral  charactei-  as  to  reflect  the  highest  ideals  in 
thought  or  action.  Few  genuine  native  legends  and  myths  show 
any  so-called  '"  mora!  "  revision  from  contact  w  ith  "  white  people."  It 
is.  of  course,  undeniable  that  the  coaise.  the  rude,  and  the  \  ulgar  in 
word,  thought,  iind  deed  are  very  real  and  e\er-present  elements  in 
the  life  of  every  so-called  Chiistian  comnninity:  and  they  are  present 
in  every  other  comnninity.  Hut  this  fact  does  not  at  all  argue  that  it 
is  viseful  to  collect  and  record  in  detail  the  narratives  of  tlw'se  in- 
decent aspects  of  life  in  any  community,  because  the  wholesome,  the 
instructive,  and  the  i)Oetic  and  beautiful  are,  forsooth,  far  more  difli- 
cult  to  obtain. 

Except  in  the  case  of  novices  in  the  woi-k  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  woik  of  .Mr.  Frank 
ITamilton  ("ushing.  Dr.  AVashington  Matthews,  and  .Mr.  .I(>reiniah 
Curtin,  who,  in  order  to  study  w  ith  discrimination  and  sympathy  the 


52  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth  a.nn.  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  m^'ths  they  recorded 
and  published,  for  their  own  mental  attitude  towai-d  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 
s-tudied.  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 
:ind  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. 

Mr.  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  sio:nificance  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  oflS- 
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  whole  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. 


m'wm]  INTRODUCTION  53 

riK-f;  to  (liscdviT  and  set  forth  tlio  mciuiini:  of  lliat  wiiieli  in  menial  woi-U, 
liistoric  strivings,  and  siiirinial  ideals  ties  tlie  liistoric  nations  to  one  anotlier. 
At  tlio  present  time  tliis  wort;  is  done,  if  not  comijletely,  at  least  measurably 
well,  and  a  new  work  awaits  us,  to  demonstrate  that  there  is  a  hiiiher  and 
a  uiijihtier  bond,  the  relationship  of  created  tbirifjs  with  one  another,  and  their 
inseverable  connection  with  That  which  some  men  reverence  as  God,  but  which 
other  men  call  the  fnknowable,  the  Unse(-n. 

This  new  work,  which  is  the  necessary  continuation  of  the  first,  and  which 
alone  can  ?;ive  it  cumpleteness  and  sifinilicance.  will  be  achieved  when  we  have 
established  the  science  of  niytholo^'y.' 

Ai^aiii,  he  asks:  "How  is  this  scieiifo  ffdin  whicli  men  may  ivceive 
siicli  spi'vice  to  be  foiimled?" 

On  this  point  Air.  Ciirtin  is  cleai-  and  instfiictivc.  maintaining  lliat 
siif'h  a  science  of  mytiioldiry  can  he  founded — 

In  one  way  alone:  by  obtaiinn^  from  races  outside  of  the  Aryan  and  .'^^'mitie 
their  myths,  their  beliefs,  their  view  of  the  world  ;  this  done,  the  rest  will  folldw 
as  a  residt  of  iiitelliirent  labor.  Hut  the  si'Ciit  battle  is  in  the  first  part  of  the 
work,  for  the  inherent  diU'iculty  of  the  task  has  becJi  increased  by  Europeans, 
who  liave  exterminated  ^reat  numbers  amons  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  tlu>  domain  of  relision,  for  without 
mythology  there  can  be  no  thorough  uiulerstamling-  of  any  religion  on  earth, 
either  in  its  inceiition  or  its  growth.' 

The  next  citation  shows  Mr.  Cnrtin's  coini)k'te  mastery  of  the 
subject  in  hand,  and  his  conchisions  are  well  worth  the  careful  con- 
sidertition  of  eveiy  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  snake.s,  among  nil  these  races,  which  are  cn.iily 
obtained,  and  mont  Europeans  seem  to  think  that  when  they  have  collected  some 
of  thCKC  trivial  ?/ii)i,<7«  they  have  all  that  the  given  people  possess.  But  they  are 
greatly  mistaken.  .1//  thrsc  people  hare  somethinii  better.  There  was  not  a 
single  stock  of  Indians  in  America  which  did  not  jiossess.  in  beautiful  forms,  the 
elements  of  an  extensive  literature  with  a  religion  and  jihilosopby  which  woidd 
have  thrown  light  on  many  begimnngs  of  Aryan  and  .Semitic  thought,  a 
knowledge  of  which  in  so  many  cases  is  now  lo.st  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  being.s,  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  theiu.  not  short 
insidiiificant  odds  and  ends  of  Information  but  great  masses  of  material; 
.  .  .  these  races  possess  in  large  volume  some  of  the  most  beautiful  prodnc- 
tions  of  the  human  mind,  and  facts  thiit  are  not  merely  of  great,  hut  of  unique, 
value.' 

'  Ciirtln.  .Tpremlati.  Myths  and  Folk-Tales  of  tlie  Itussluns,  Westi'm  Slavs,  and  Masiyars, 
p.  vil.  Kostnn,  ISnO. 

■  Ibid.,  p.  X. 

■  Ibid.,  pp.  x-il. 


54  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  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  present  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  munterpieces  in  literature  filled  vith  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  .^^neid.  in  the  Divine 
Comedy  of  Dante,  in  the  works  of  the  other  three  great  Italian  poets?  How 
much  in  Paradise  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  period.s,  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  eases  the  present  heroes  or  heroines  bear  the  names 
of  men  and  women,  or  cliildren ;  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  person.  This  is  the  great  cause  of  wonderful  deeds  in 
myth-tales.' 

With  reference  to  the  work  ah-eady  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  sorue  cases, 
simple  and  transparent,  it  is  not  ditlicult  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, 
because  they  are  concealed  by  names  and  epithets.  Taken  as  a  whole,  however, 
the  Indian  tales  are  remarkably  clear.' 

As  to  the  content  of  these  American  Indian  tales  and  legends,  Mr. 
Curtin  saj's : 

What  is  the  substance  and  sense  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  tirst  people,"  "  the  outside  people,"  or 
simply  "  peoi)le," — the  same  term  in  all  cases  being  used  for  people  that  is 
applied  to  Indians  at  present. 

'  Curtin,  Jeromlah,  Myths  and  Folk-Tales  of  the  Russians,  Western  Slavs,  and  Magyars, 
p.  ix,  Boston,   1890, 
2  Ilnd.,  p,  xvii, 
'Curtin,  Jeremiah.  Hero-Tales  of  Ireland,  pp,  ix,  x    Boston,  1894, 


m'wi'ra]  INTRODUCTION  55 

These  jicdiilc.  wlio  wore  vory  iiumum'ous.  livoil  togotlier  for  ages  in  luiniioiiy. 
TluTO  wove  no  ••ollisions  aniong  tlieni,  no  disputes  during  thiit  period;  iill  were 
iu  i)erfeet  aceord.  In  sonic  mysterious  fashion,  however,  each  individual  was 
changinj;  inipereeptibly :  an  internal  movement  was  Koi'in  on.  At  last  a  time 
came  when  the  dilTerenees  were  sullieient  to  cause  contliot.  except  in  the  case 
of  a  Rrou]i  to  be  mentioned  hereafter,  and  struiisles  bejau.  These  strusijles 
were  siSiintic,  for  the  "first  people"  had  mighty  power;  they  had  also  won- 
(hnful  iierception  and  UnowledKc.  They  felt  tlie  approach  of  friends  or  enemies 
even  at  a  distance;  they  knew  llie  thou,£;ht  in  anotlier's  heart.  If  one  of  tliein 
expressed  a  wish,  it  was  accomplished  immediately:  nay.  if  lie  even  thoujrlit  of 
a  thiiif;,  it  was  there  before  him.  Kndowod  with  sucli  powers  and  qualities,  it 
would  seem  that  their  strusjrles  would  be  endless  and  indecisive:  but  .sucli  wa.s 
not  the  ease.  Though  opjionents  miiiht  be  equally  dextrous,  and  have  tlie  power 
o  the  wish  or  the  word  in  a  similar  degree,  one  of  them  would  conquer  in  the 
(Mid  llirougli  wishing  for  more  effective  and  better  things,  an<l  thus  become  the 
hero  of  a  liigher  cause ;  that  is,  a  cause  fi-om  which  benefit  would  .iccrue  to 
mankind,  the  coming  race." 

.  .  .  Among  living  creatures,  we  are  not  to  reckon  inan,  for  man  does  not 
apjieai'  in  any  of  those  myth  tales;  they  relate  solely  to  extra-liuman  exist- 
ences, and  describe  the  battle  and  agony  of  creation,  not  the  adventures  of 
an.vthing  in  the  world  since  it  received  its  present  form  and  otlice.  .Vcconling 
to  popular  modes  of  thought  and  speech,  all  this  would  be  termetl  the  fall  of 
tlie  gods.  f(M'  the  "first  people"  of  the  Indian  t,-iles  ciu'resjiond  lo  the  earliest 
gods  of  other  races.' 

In  the  theory  <if  siiiritual  evolution,  worked  out  by  the  aboriginal  mind  of 
America,  all  kinds  of  moral  quality  and  character  are  represented  as  coHiing 
froin  an  internal  movement  through  which  the  latent,  unevolved  personality  of 
each  individual  of  these  "  first  peoi)le,"  or  gods,  is  produced.  Once  that  per- 
soiKilit.v  is  produced,  every  sjiecies  of  dramatic  situation  and  tragic  catastrophe 
follows  as  an  inevitable  sequence.  There  is  no  more  peace  after  that;  there 
are  only  collisions  followed  b.v  combats  which  are  continued  by  the  gods  till 
they  are  turned  into  all  the  things,  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral — which  are 
either  useful  or  harmful  to  man,  and  thus  creation  is  accomiilislicd.  During 
the  period  of  struggles,  the  gods  organize  institutions,  .social  and  religiou.s,  ac- 
cording to  which  they  live.  The.se  are  bequeathed  to  man;  and  nothing  that  an 
Indian  has  is  of  human  invention,  all  is  divine.  An  avowed  innovation,  any 
tiling  that  we  call  reform,  anything  invented  b.v  man.  would  be  looked  on  .is 
sacrilege,  a  terrible,  an  inexpiable  crime.  The  Indian  lives  in  a  world  iireparwl 
b.v  the  gods,  and  follows  in  tlu'ir  footsteps — that  is  the  only  morality,  the  oii(> 
pure  and  hol.v  religion.' 

This  creation  myth  of  the  New  World  is  a  work  of  great  value,  for  by  aid  of 
it  we  can  bring  order  into  mythology,  and  reconstruct,  at  least  in  outline,  and 
provisionally,  that  early  system  of  belief  which  was  common  to  all  races:  a 
system  which,  though  expresseil  in  niMuy  languages  and  in  endlessly  varying 
det.ails.  lias  one  meaning,  and  was.  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  one — a 
religion  truly  catholic  and  (rcumenical.  for  it  was  believed  in  by  all  peojile, 
wherever  resident,  and  believed  iu  with  a  vividnes.s  of  faith,  and  a  sincerity  of 
attacbment.  which  no  civilized  man  can  even  imagine,  unless  he  has  had  long 
experience  of  primitive  races.* 

'  Curtln,  Jerpmtah.  Hero  Tales  of  Ireland,  pp.  x,  xl,  Boston,  1S94. 

»Tt>ld..  p.   xl. 

•  Il)i<l..  pp.  sll,  xill. 

'Ibid.,   p.   .\111. 


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

The  wnr  between  the  gods  continued  till  it  produced  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  mythologies  a  few  personages  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  described  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  tinder  it,  and  beyond,  to  a  pleasant  region  wliere 
they  live  in  delight.  This  is  that  contingent  to  which  I  have  referred,  that  part 
of  the  "  first  people "  in  which  no  passion  was  developed ;  they  reuiaHied  in 
primitive  simplicity,  unSift'erentiated,  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  epocli  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  aflirm  as  a  theory  that  primitive 
beliefs  In  all  places  are  of  the  same  system  essentially  as  the  American,  In 
that  system,  every  individual  existence  teyond  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  trilies  least  developed,  the  earliest  tales  are  very 
distinct,  and  .specially  valuable  on  some  points  relating  to  the  origin  and  fall 
of  the  god.s.  Materials  from  the  extreme  west  are  more  archaic  and  simple 
than  those  of  the  east.  In  fact  the  two  regions  pre.sent  the  two  extremes, 
in  North  America,  of  least  developed  and  most  developetl  aboriginal  thought. 
In  this  is  their  interest.     They  form  one  complete  system.' 

'  Curtin,   Jeremi.ih.    UeroTales   of   Ireland,   p.   ilv,    Boston,    1894, 

'  Ibid.,  p.  XV. 

"Ibid.,  p.  xvi. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  xlix-U 


^7ewS]  introduction  67 

To  sum  up,  we  may  sny,  that  the  Iiulinn  tales  reveal  to  us  a  whole  system  of 
religion,  philosophy,  auil  social  polity.  .  .  . 

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

The  results  lo  he  obtained  from  a  comparison  of  systems  of  thought  like  the 
Indian  and  the  (;aelic  would  be  great,  if  made  thoroughly.  If  e.\ti>nded  to  all 
races,  such  a  comiiarison  would  render  possible  a  history  of  the  human  mind 
in  a  form  such  as  few  men  at  present  even  dream  of, — u  history  with  a  basis  as 
firm  as  that  which  lies  under  geology.  .  .  .  We  must  make  large  additions 
indeed  to  our  knowledge  of  i)rimitive  iieoples.  We  must  com])lete  the  work 
begun  in  America.  .  .  .  The  undertaking  is  ardueus,  and  there  is  need  to 
engage  in  it  promptly.  The  forces  of  civili/.ed  society.  , -it  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  develo|iment,  shouhl  be  stripped 
of  all  that  he  owns,  both  material  and  mental,  and  Ihen  be  refashioned  to 
serve  the  society  that  stripped  him.  If  lie  will  not  yield  lo  lln'  slri|iping  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  Fowell  entereil 
the  field,  and  became  Director  of  the  Ilureau  of  Kthnology,  more  has  been  done 
in  studying  the  native  races  of  .\merica  than  li;id  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  chi-.nges  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  documentiiry  evidence.  It  gives  us  positive  f.acts 
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  ns  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,  [leople  who  increased  and  developc^d  together  with  the  beliefs 
of  every  sort  which  belong  to  them.  Such  a  religion  includes  every  s|>ecies  of 
knowledge,  every  kind  of  custom,  institution,  and  art.  Every  aboriginal  nation 
or  lunnan  brood  h:is  its  gods.  All  ])eo|ile  of  one  blood  and  origin  are  under  the 
immediate  care  and  supervision  of  their  gods,  and  preserve  continual  connunni- 
cation  and  converse  with  them.  According  to  their  own  beliefs,  such  peojile 
received  from  their  gods  all  that  they  have,  all  that  they  practice,  all  that  they 
know.  Such  people,  while  their  blood  is  uinni.xed  and  their  society  unconquered. 
adhere  to  their  gods  with  the  utmost  fidelity. 

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

.\  good  deal  has  been  given  lo  the  w<.rld  of  late  on  mythology  by  able  writers 
who  with  good  materials  would  attain  good  re.sults;  but  as  the  materials  at 
their  disposal  are  faulty,  much  of  their  work  with  all  its  cleverness  is  mainly  a 
persistent  pouring  of  the  eni]iiy  into  the  voiil. 


•  Curtln.  Jeremiah,  Hero-Talcs  of  Ireland,  p.  xlvlll,  Boston,  1894. 
'  Ibid.,  pp.  xlvl,   .xlvil. 

■Curttn.  JiTi'miah,  Creation  Mylli-s  ot  I'ilniitive  America,  pp.  xxxl-xxxil,  Boston,  1898. 

•  llild.,   p.  xiiiU 


58  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ETH.  ANN.  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  except  man.'  .  .  . 

Vegetable  gods,  so  called,  have  been  scoffed  at  by  writers  on  mythology.  The 
scoff  is  baseless,  for  the  first  people  wei'e  turned,  or  turned  themselves,  into 
trees  and  various  plants  as  freqiiently  as  into  beasts  and  other  creatures.  Maize 
or  Indian  corn  is  a  transformed  god  who  gave  himself  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  that  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 
transformation  this  old  parsnip  could  travel  swiftly,  but  now  he  nmst  stay  in 
one  place,  and  of  cour.se  kills  people  only  when  they  eat  him. 

The  treasure  saved  to  science  by  the  primitive  race  of  Amertca  is  unique  in 
value  and  high  significance.  The  first  result  from  it  is  to  carry  us  bnck  through 
untold  centuries  to  that  epoch  when  man  made  the  earlie.'^t  collective  and  con- 
sistent explau.-ition  of  this  universe  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  lost  in 
part,  greut  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,  Eg.ti>t,  Chaldea,  Persia,  or  India." 

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

After  they  had  lived  on  an  indefinite  period,  thoy  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,  amusements,  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  all-powei'ful  wish  ;  but  the.v  are  iunnortal.  and,  though  over- 
come, can  not  be  destroyed.  .  .  . 

When  the  present  race  of  men  (that  is,  Indians)  appear  on  the  scene,  the 
people  of  the  previous  order  of  affairs  have  vanisheil.  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,  stars — have  become,  in  fact,  every  living  thing, 
object,    agency,   phenomenon,    process,    and    power    outside   of   raan.     Another 

'  Curtin,  Jeremiah,  Creation  Myths  of  rrimitive  America,  pp.  xxxvii-xxxviii,  Boston, 
1.S9S. 

-  Ibid.,  pp.  xxsviii-xxxi.x. 


nKwiTr]  ,  INTRODUCTION  59 

party  much  smallpr  in  number,  who  succeeded  in  avoiding  entanglement  in  the 
struggle  of  preparing  tlie  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  lioats  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  tliey  are 
living  now  free  from  pain.  dL-^ease,  and  death,  which  came  into  the  world  just 
before  they  left,  but  before  the  coming  of  man  and  through  tlie  agency  of  this 
first  people.  .  .  . 

This  earliest  .Vmerican  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  prini.'pval  innocence,  of  which  we  hear  so  many  echoes  in  tradition  and 
early  literature,  when  that  infinite  vni'iety  of  character  and  (juality  now 
manifest  in  the  universe  was  still  dorniMnt  and  hidden,  practically  uncre- 
ated. This  was  the  "golden  age"  of  so  tnany  mythologie.s — 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  mid  flowers  sing,  when  Imtb  could  move  as  lunibly  as  the 
swiftest  on  earth. 

Such,  in  a  sketch  exceedingly  meager  and  imperfect,  a  hint  rather  than  n 
sketch,  is  the  first  great  cycle  of  American  mythology — the  cre;it ion-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  ob.served  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 — 
people  of  the  formur  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  reason  that  there  is  no  other  source.  The 
personages  of  any  given  body  of  myths  are  such  iTianifestation«  of  force  in  the 
world  around  them,  or  the  result  of  svich  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  jiersonages 
accessible  to  their  senses  or  conceivable  to  their  minds.  .  .  . 

Since  they  bad  passions  varying  like  tbo.se  of  men,  the  myth-makers  narrate 
the  origin  of  these  pa.ssions.  and  carried  their  personages  back  to  a  period  of 
peaceful  and  inmxent  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, 
heaveidy  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  u\)  to  a  certain  point, 
which  may  be  taken  as  the  point  to  which  the  least-developed  peopU^  have 
ri.sen.' 

And  Mr.  C'liftin  fiiither  suy^: 

At  that  period  the  earth  .  .  .  was  occupied  by  personages  who  are  called 
people,  though  it  is  well  understood  at  all  tiiiu's  that  they  were  not  human; 
they  were  person.?,  individuals.' 


»  Curtin,  Jeremiah   Mytha  and  Folk-Lore  of  Ireland,  pp.  22-27,  Boston.  1890. 
»!i.id..  p.  22. 


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

To  trace  the  ancestral  sources  of  a  people's  tlunight  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  sec<md  term,  logos,  having  at  the  beginning  approximately 
the  same  meaning  as  mythos,  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  corresj^onds  to  uni- 
versal and  unclianging  principles,"  reaching  "  its  highest  exalta- 
tion in  becoming  not  only  reason  in  man  but  the  I'eason  in  the  imi- 
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  storj",  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  charactea-  of  a  science. 

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


mnJ'S]  INTRODUCTION  6 1 

mentation,  this  is  the  mental  process  through  which  they  dim!}- 
nppreiiond  the  significance  of  tlie  complex  and  closely  interrelated 
phcnonicna  of  life  and  of  environing  nature,  and  the  medium  by 
which  they  harmonize  the  ceaseless  functioning  of  these  with  theii- 
own  experience,  with  the  activity  of  their  own  subconscious  mind,  and 
\\ith  the  divine  promj)tings  and  visions  vouchsafed  them  by  the 
dawn  of  their  own  superconscious  intellect. 

'J'iie  initial  step  of  the  prt)cess  is  the  ingenuous  act  of  the  imagina- 
tion in  [)ersonifying,  yea,  in  ideally  humanizing,  the  bodies,  elements, 
and  forces  of  environing  nature:  as,  for  instance,  the  picfiiring  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  dri\e  animals  and  bii-ds  into  their  winter  retreats  and  some 
even  into  hibeination,  repi'csented  as  the  hiding  of  the  animals  from 
his  brother,  the  Master  or  (iod  of  LKv. 

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

As  the  basis  of  religious  expression,  Seneca-Iroquoian  myths  and 
legends,  in  connnon  with  those  of  all  other  men.  are  to  most  people 
the  .em])ty  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  they  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  pers(mifications  of  the  processes  and 
phenomena  of  nature  in  some  instances  has  bec(mie  so  real  and  so 
natural  that  these  beings  no  longer  act  or  function  in  tei'ins  of  the 
processes  of  nature  oidy,  but  as  the  thauuiaturgic  fetishes  of  potent 
sorcerers,  performing  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  ami  are  not  legends  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  term,  but  are.  rather,  fictitious  narratives  or  tales  of  reputed 
individual  lunnan  achievement,  (piite  incredible,  of  course,  as  authen- 
tic acts  of  mankintl.  They  center  about  tlie  reputc^d  afi'airs  of  a 
human  being,  or  do  so  at  lea.st  in  the  view  of  the  modern  story-teller. 

In  the  collection  of  Seneca  mirratives  of  Mr.  Cui'tin  eight  relate 
to  the  (Jenonsgwa  (the  Stone  Coats  or  Stone  (iiants),  six  to  IIi'"no"' 
(llinon)  or  the  Thunder  Peoi^le.  six  to  the  Dagwanoenyent  or 
^^'hirhvind  I'eople.  five  to  the  .Shagodiiowcii  or  AA'ind  People,  and 
three  to  the  Djogeon  or  Dwarf  People.  It  is  ])r(ibal)le  that  the  two 
groups  of  "  wind  "  peoples  originally  arose  from  a  single  personage. 
From  single  i)ersonages  like  Hi"no"'  or  Thunder.  Shagodiiowe(|  or 
the  Wind,  and  Dagwanoenyent  or  the  Cyclone  or  Whiilwind.  the 


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

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

But  truth  seemingly  was  not  readily  appreciable  by  primal  men 
.mtil  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 
and  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  mtist  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  pi-esent  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  foi'ni  and  in  feeling,  and  yet  most  divine,  were  the  gods 
and  deities  of  the  ancient  Seneca  and  the  other  Troquoian  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  goS,  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 


wKwrre]  INTRODUCTION  63 

fiapas  tlie  personifications  of  the  elements  and  forces  of  nature  are 
ciassifietl  as  iiunian  by  the  use  of  the  term  ofi'gwe,  "  a  iiuman 
being  or  mankind"  (for  the  word  has  both  a  singuhir  and  a  plural 
signification),  to  designate  them. 

The  task  of  classifying  these  narratives,  even  tentatixely,  is  not  an 
easy  one,  for  the  proportion  of  these  stories  which  seem  to  be  lUKpies- 
lionabh-  fiction  to  tho.se  which  are  myths  :aul  legends  is  relatively 
much  larger  than  might  be  suspected  without  some  investigation.  It 
is  clearly  wrong  to  call  everytliing  legend  oi-  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  jierhaps  to  spi-ead 
the  fame  of  some  noted  sorcei'er  and  his  fetishes. 

The  setting  and  the  framework  of  the  narrative  or  story  may  be 
laken  froui  a  myth  and  one  or  more  myth  episodes  incorporated  in  it. 
but  the  I'esult  is  a  fabricatinn  l)e<'ause  it  does  not  rest  on  facts  of 
human  experience. 

Now.  for  example,  the  naiTatives  concerning  the  so-called  Stone 
Coats,  Stcme  (liants.  or  the  (ienonsgwu  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  examjjle  of  forgotten  deri\ations  of  words  and  names 
and  the  resultant  new  conceptions. 

In  tiie  (ienesis  myth  of  the  Irocpioian  peoples  the  "\A'inter  Season, 
by  personification,  was  placed  in  the  class  of  man-beings  with  the 
name,  "  Ile-who-is-clad-in-ice,"  or  "  Ile-who-is-ice-clad."  Now  it  so 
happens  that  tiie  word  for  ice  and  for  chei-t  or  flint  stone  is  derived 
from  a  common  stem  whose  fundamental  meaning  is  "glare,"  "  crvs- 
tal."  or  •'  what  is  ice-like."  Hut  tlie  myth-tellers,  in  order  to  add  an 
air  of  the  mvsticai  to  their  recital,  ilid  not  fail  to  i)Iav  on  the  double 
meaning  of  the  word  for  U'e.  and  .so  represented  the  Winter  .Man- 
being  as  "The  Flint-clad  Man-being"  rather  than  as  "The  Ice-clad 
Man-being."  And  the  i-esults  of  '\^'inter*s  cold  and  frost  were  told  in 
terms  of  flint  or  chert  stone,  and  so  bergs  iJid  cakes  and  i)locks  of 
ice  became  in  tiie  narration  objects  of  flint  and  chert  stone.  Winter's 
cold  is  conveyed  from  i)lace  to  jilace  by  means  of  cakes  and  bergs 
of  ice.  whicii  are  transformeil  liy  tlu>  poet  into  canoes  of  Hint  or  stone. 
Ami  in  time  the  stone  canoe  is  transferred  from  myth  to  the  I'ealm  of 
fiction  and  legend  to  glorify  the  fame  of  some  iunuan  hero. 

And  in  the  thinking  of  the  Iro(|uois  the  Flint-clad  Man-being 
became  separated  and  distinct  from  the  Man-being  of  the  Winter. 


•  For  nn  ox'fndcil  ctvinnln^'ii-  (li'inonsiniilon  nf  Uiv  fads  sintcil  In  tlio  text,  ronsnlt 
articlps  Tnwiskaron  nnd  h'anahosho  by  the  cdUor  Id  the  Handbook  of  AmerlcaD  ImllaDS 
{liiiUetin  SO  of   the  Iluiaia   of  Amrrican    Htlinclugy] . 


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

At  this  point  the  fictitious  Man-being  who  was  Stone-dad  parted 
company  forever  with  the  personified  nature  force  or  process  that 
was  frost-bearing  and  ice-chid.  The  former  was  gradually  reduced 
to  a  peculiar  species  of  mankind — the  stone  giant,  for  he  was  repre- 
sented as  stone-clad,  while  the  latter  retained  his  first  estate  as  one 
of  the  chief  characters  in  thg  Genesis  myth  of  the  Iroquoian  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  bi'other,  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  heai-ers. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  the  original  "  Stone  Coat  "  was  the  "  Ice-Clad 
Winter  God."  In  the  Curtin  collection  there  are  eight  stories  which 
i-efer  to  the  Genonsgv\-a,  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 
ai'e  merely  exaggerated  human  figures  and  not  symbols  of  a  process 
of  nature  J  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.  ^Mien  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  per.soni- 
fied  process  of  nature:  and  so,  like  their  human  prototypes,  they 
increased  and  multiplied  mightily,  and  so  were  as  numerous  as  the 
leaves  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 
sj'stem  of  thought.  In  brief,  they  were  composed  of  both  the  meta- 
morphosed and  of  the  unchanged  first  or  ancient  people  who  in  dis- 
tinctive character  were  conceived  of  as  the  formal  and  outward  ex- 


iiywi'i^]  IXTRODUCTIOX         .  65 

pressioii  of  liiiiiiiin  iniml.  In  the  roiirsf  of  tiim-  tlicse  deities  oi-  jriul.-i 
are  said  to  have  taii<rht  tlieir  people  tlie  arts  and  crafts  and  tiie  ele- 
ments of  tlieii-  cnltnre  anil  theii-  faith,  thus  revealinir  their  will  and 
the  tliinus  \vlii''li  were  to  he  in  the  future.  This  divine  k'nowledij:.'. 
this  wisdom  of  the  gods,  was  obtained  or  revealed  in  dreams  or 
visions  and  l\v  theophanies.  liut  a  knowledsie  of  the  acti\  ities  of  the 
people  holdin<j;  these  views  malces  it  evident  that  the  doeti'ines  ami 
the  arts  and  the  crafts  tauiiiit  1)V  the  irods  and  the  institution.s 
founded  l)y  them  for  the  i>eoi)le  are  in  fact  the  activities  of  the 
l)eople  themselves  which  had  hcen  luiconscioMsly  im])uled  to  these 
deities.  Of  coui-.se.  the  <rods  can  teach  and  can  reveal  only  what  has 
been  before  imputed  to  them  by  the  peojile. 

'J'he  oritrinal  and  chief  |)erson  in  the  myth  was  not  a  Inimaii  beinji. 
althouiih  he  was  iei)resi'nted  as  possessed  of  the  form,  the  desiivs, 
and  the  volition  of  a  jjcrson.  Tie  is  reputed  to  havo  ]>ei'forme(l  acts 
which  no  hiunan  beini:  had  the  power  to  perform,  acts  which  <iuly 
the  functionin<r  of  a  process  of  natiuv  or  of  life  could  accom])lish. 

In  some  of  these  narratives  human  beinirs.  I)earini!:  human  names. 
liHve  been  substituted  and  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  these  stories  are 
men,  women,  and  childivn. 

The  substitution  of  human  beiuirs  in  the  stead  (d'  the  personiH(>d 
foi'ces  OI-  pi'oeesses  of  natui'e  su])]dies  the  reason  that  a|>parently 
wonderful  su])ei-liuman  deeds  are  accfunplished  by  the  human  substi- 
tutes, whereas  the  acts  portraye<l  are  those  of  natural  forces,  not  of 
human  br-ain  and  brawn. 

The  stories  of  the  Daiiwanoenvent,  or  Flyina  Heads,  Cyclones,  and 
\\'liirlvvinds,  of  the  ( ienonsjiwa,  or  Stone  Coats  (the  Frost  (Jianls, 
or  (iods  cd'  A\'inter,  iiiil  originally  named  "I'a  wiskai-on  ) .  and  of  the 
S'hairodiyovve(|f;ovva,  or  ^\'ind  (iod,  purport  to  relate  historical  evenis, 
althouiih  they  aie  mythic  and  Icijendary  in  form.  15nt  miletteied 
peoples  do  not  transmit  history.  The  writini;-  of  history  prt'su])pose> 
not  only  the  art  of  wi-iting-  but  also  some  kind  of  permanent  social 
and  political  (.rfiani/^ation.  Individual  experiences  fade  ra|)idly.  for 
lacking  the  needful  jienei-al  intei-est  I  hey  ilo  not  unite  with  others  in 
forminjr  even  S(:n\e  phase  of  the  locn.l  history  of  a  irroup.  The  ex- 
pei-iences  of  individuals  and  even  of  small  unimportant  i^i-oups  of 
people  also  lacli  tlie  interest  neeessai'v  to  bi-in^j:  about  their  tians- 
mission  as  history.  Hence  such  uncivilized  peoples  leave  to  theii- 
posterity  no  authentic  accounts  of  the  events  of  their  times,  foi-  oidy 
in  song  and  saga,  where  i)oetry  mingles  with  fact,  do  (hey  attempt  to 
transnut  the  narratives  of  historical  events  and  exjieriences. 

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  recoi'd  of  ti-iluil  or  comnuinal  ex- 
946].j°— IS 5 


66  SENECA  FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  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  naive  poetical  way, 
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  jieople  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  si?riptorial  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 
classes  of  story  or  narrative  had  specific  names  among  the  Seneca 
and  their  congeners  of  the  Iroquoian  stock.  The  sacred  legend  was 
called  Kd'kdd',  or  Ka'kard''  by  the  r-using  dialects  of  the  Iro(iuoian 
iribes.  The  literal  meaning  of  this  noun  is  not  known ;  in  the  Onon- 
daga dialect  the  ^--sound  would  be  replaced  by  the  g^-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  "  fii-st  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  mytlis  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  were  the  so-called  "  first  people,"  "  the  ancients." 


he'wS]  introduction  67 

It  is  evident  tliat  myths  of  origins  project  bnckward  to-an  assumed 
condition  of  thinsrs  the  story  of  a  da\'  or  of  a  year,  and  creation  is 
described  as  Sprinij;  an  a  universal  scale,  that  is.  it  explains  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  order  of  things,  existent  where  tiie  stories  are  told, 
came  about,  as  a  Rebirth  of  Nature.  -But  no  one  will  contend  tliat 
there  were  human  eyewitnesses  of  what  the  narratives  report. 

The  wise  men.  prophets,  and  i^riests  of  tribal  men  painted  these 
tales  witli  the  glamour  and  witchery  of  poetry.  Myths  are  the  poetic 
judgments  of  tribal  men  about  the  plienomena  of  life  and  tlie  outside 
world  and  embody  the  philosophy  of  these  men  about  the  problems 
and  mysteries  of  the  universe  around  them  and  in  their  owij  lives. 
So,  in  order  to  understand  the.se  nai'ratives,  it  is  necessary  to  study 
them  with  the  deepest  sympathy.  But  our  sympathy  with  tlie  view- 
jjoint  of  the  myth  narratives  of  tribal  men  should  not  veil  tlie  realities 
of  .science  from  our  minds. 

Piloted  by  science  in  seeking  to  know  the  truth  about  the  universe, 
scholars  do  not  exjiect  to  discover  it  in  the  myth-lore  or  tlie  folk- 
lore of  tribal  men.  To  study  tlie  iiirth  and  the  growth  of  oi»inions 
forms  one  of  the  most  instructive  clia|)ters  in  the  science  of  mind  or 
psychology. 

The  Seneca  name  S'liagodiiowe'^gowa  or  S"hagodiiowe'<igowa  des- 
ignates one  of  the  famous  "  man-l>eings  "  who  are  of  the  lineage  of 
the  "first  people.*'  Some  unknowing  Indian  interpreters  render  this 
term  erroneously  by  the  Engli.sh  words  "  false  face,"  which  is  a  trans- 
lation which  effectually  conceals  the  literal  meaniiig  of  the  expression, 
which  is  freely  "Tlie  Groat  Ones  AVho  Defend  Them."  But  as  an 
ai)pellative  the  term  is  also  applied  to  a  single  one  of  these  fictitious 
beings.  The  jilui-al  concept  is  e\  idently  a  late  develoi)ment,  and 
probably  arose  after  the  establishment  of  societies  whose  members, 
when  ceremonially  attired,  must  foi-  one  thing  \\ear  a  wooden  mask 
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  myth  of 
Creation  knows  only  one  man-being,  who  assumed  the  dutv  of  pro 
tecting  mankind  from  pestilence  and  disease.  He  was  the  (lod  of  tiie 
,Vir  or  the  AA'ind,  .sometimes  appearing  as  the  Whirlwind.  Cere- 
monially he  is  addre-sed  as  S^hrdinixryda'-  or  as  E/'/i/\yi'>'//ir.  both 
meaning  ''He  \\'ho  Is  Our  (irandfather." 

It  would  seem  that  the  pluralizing  of  the  concept  has  resulted  in 
a  marked  forgetting  of  the  original  objectixe  reality  represented  in 
the  concept,  wiiich  in  turn  detracts  from  the  high  esteem  in  which 
the  original  Wind  Ciod  was  held.  Tlu'  Onondaga  name  of  this  ])er- 
feonage  is  Hadit'T:  the  Alohawk,  Akon'varcV.  Both  these  names 
have  arisen  from  something  peculiar  to  members  of  the  so-called 
"False  Face  Societies,"  the  first  meaning,  from  tlie  common  postures 


68  SENECA   FICTION,   LECxENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  a.sn.  32 

•assumed  b}'  the  nieinbers,  "  IfUiicli-backed,"  and  the  second,  '"mask," 
from  the  wooden  ma.sU  worn  by  the  members  of  tlie  society  when  in 
session.  So  the  expression  of  the  evil  side  of  the  manifestations  of 
the  Power  of  the  A\'ind  or  Air.  Pestilence.  Disease,  and  Death  may 
safe)}-  be  predicated  of  this  member  of  the  "  first  [)eople." 

A  god  or  deit\-  exerts  or  maintains  its  influence  over  the  mind  :uul 
heart  of  man  because  it  is  something  more  than  a  mere  creature  of 
tiie  iiu.nuin  brain.  The  god  exercises  certain  attril)utes.  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  oi' 
force  of  the  universe  plus  the  attributed  human  faculties  and  aspect. 

Some  of  tiie  French  writers  among  the  early  explorers  in  Nortli 
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  oidy  a  glimpse 
of  a  larger  faith.  The.se  so-ca!leil  "  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  pri  genitors  of  all  faunal  and  floral  life  on  the  earth. 

But  an  interpretative  understanding  of  the  (ienesis  myth  of  the 
American  Indians  shows  that  these  "ancients.''  these  primal  "an- 
cestors," were  regarded  as  "human  beings,"  as  lielonging  to  that  class 
of  animate  Ijeings  to  which  the  Indian  himself  belonged.  Yet,  these 
"ancients"  were  the  "gods,"  "the  beings,"  or  "the  existences,"  of 
anthroi^ic  foi-m.  character,  and  volition,  whose  metamorphosis  later 
[)roduced,  according  to  the  Indian  philosophy,  the  jiresent  order  of 
things  on  earth.  So,  the  "  first  beings,"  conceived  as  "  human  beings," 
were  indeed  the  gods — the  personified  agents  of  the  [lowers,  processes, 
and  phenomena  of  nature. 

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

P)Ut  in  some  places  there  arose  confusion  between  these  poetic  cre- 
ations of  a  childlike  faith  and  the  lineal  ancestors  of  men.  Wheii 
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 as]H>ct.  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. 


^l]^:^.;]  TNTHoru-.Tiox  09 

All  c;irly  men  of  iiidioMtc  iiicntatiDii.  of  sclf-cciitcrcil  tliiiikiiiL'. 
sh;iri'(l  tluMi'  iiectls  ami  alllict ions,  tht-ii'  woi's  and  aniliitions.  tiu'ii'  <nf 
I'erinifs  and  aspirations,  and  tlu'ii'  jovs  and  Uessinirs  with  their  ifods. 
rccliiii;'  that  their  jrods  who  i)ore  their  own  likeness  liy  tlie  unconscious 
imputation  of  human  nature  to  them  were  endowed  with  tiie  aftri- 
Inites,  whims.  \  irtues.  and  frailties  of  Innnan  nature.  They  believed 
(hat  their  irods  must  he  men — man-heintrs.  men  like  themselves — else 
these  deities  could  not  foresee  and  understand  theii-  neci'ssities  and 
so  could  not  sym]>alhi/e  with  men  everywhere.  Hence  an  Iro:|Uois. 
thiidvinir  and  speakin<>:  of  theii'  deities  only  in  terms  of  human  speech 
;'.nd  thouirht.  desiiiiuites  a  god  oi-  other  s])iiit  of  his  faith  liy  the  word 
denotinir  man.  hinuan  i>ein<r.  or  maid<ind. 

<  )f  the  gods  and  deities  of  Iroi|Uois  myths  tiie  editor  has  w  ritten  : 

I.il;c  iiiiisi  .ViiicricMii  liiilian  iii.vlli(ilri.'ics.  ilio  Ii-ci(|iiiii.  ii  deals  with  tliici'  ^Teal 
iii.vtliic  ccisinical  pefiols.  In  the  first  <hvelt  a  rac-i>  nf  uipmtic  aiuhi-(ipic  l;oini:s — • 
man  lieinj,'s.  let  tlieni  he  called,  licc-anso  tlionph  thfv  were  reputed  to  liavc  !)cen 
liir^'cr.  iiiircr,  wiser,  aidrc  ancicnl.  ami  pos-cssc.l  r.t'  iniin'  jioliMit  orcuilii  ((;.  v.). 
'hail  man.  and  li.-ivinj;  siipciior  aliiiil.v  lo  perfcirm  the  irreat  eleinent.-il  fniii-tiuns 
ihai-aeteri7,in,s;  definitely  the  lliiiifts  represented  by  them,  they  nevertheless  had 
the  fenii.  mien,  and  mind  nf  ni.in.  tlfir  cre.itor:  for  nnconseionsly  diil  man 
(feate  llie  i.'ods.  llie  LTiral  primal  lieim;s  cif  cdsiHir  time — the  enntrollers  or 
(lirectdrs.  or  imper'-iinaf ions,  of  the  bodies  and  pluMiumeiia  of  nature — In  his 
own  imase.  To  these  man-beinj;s,  therefore,  were  impntivl  the  thouirlit.  m.aniiers. 
cnst(jms.  habits,  and  .s-ocial  orsanizalion  of  their  ere.-itors;  nolwithstan  linu  this, 
man  re.srardwl  them  as  nncreate<i.  elermil.  and  immortal:  for  by  a  enrions  para- 
do.\.  man.  unstaUiiif:  his  own  mental  fictions,  his  metaphors,  for  realities,  ex- 
plained his  own  e.\istenee.  wisdom.  :ind  .lelivities  as  the  divine  prodnci  of  Ih" 
creations  of  his  own  inchoate  mind.  The  dwelling-place  of  the  first  L'reat  primal 
beinsis.  characterized  by  flora  ami  fanna  respectively  identical  with  llic  plant 
.•ind  animal  life  .ippcarinir  later  on  the  earth,  was  (■oniei\  f^l  to  liave  been  the 
npper  surface  of  the  visible  sky.  which  was  re;:arded  as  a  solid  pl.ain.  Here 
lived  the  first  beiti.i;s  in  peace  and  <'onteinment  for  a  very  loti^  period  of  time: 
no  one  knows  or  ever  knew  the  lensjth  of  this  first  cosmic  period  of  trampiil 
existence.  Hut  tliere  came  a  time  when  an  <'vent  occurred  which  resulted  in 
a  ntetamorphosis  i:i  llie  slate  and  aspect  of  celestial  and  earthl.v  thinis:  in 
fact,  tlie  seeming  had  lo  lieconu-  or  to  assume  the  real,  and  so  came  to  jiass  the 
cataclysmic  change  of  things  of  the  lirst  period  into  thai  now  seen  on  the  wirth 
and  in  the  sky.  ;ind  the  close  of  this  |ieriod  was  the  d;iwn  of  the  gols  of  this 
mytlndogy.' 

So  the  character  and  the  nature  of  the  deities  an<l  spirits  of  the 
faith  of  the  Iro(|Hois  ])eopl(>s  were  a  direct  relle.x  of  those  attriluites 
(  f  the  peo]ile  thenisehcs.  It  may  he  inferred  in  o(.|ipi-;il  that  the  more 
l)rimitive  and  cultureless  the  i)eopli>  are  the  more  crude,  the  'more 
harliaric  and  savage  will  he  their  conceptions  of  their  gods  and  the 
nature  iind  functions  of  these  naive  creations,  but.  convers;dy.  it  i^^ 
(■nly  w  ith  the  possession  of  a  higher  degree  of  intelligence  that  cotne 
noblei'.  more  refined,  grander,  and  more  spiritual  ideas  of  their  gods 
This  admits  of  no  e.xception. 


'  tlandhook  of  Aiii<Tican    Indians,   pt.   2.   p.   720. 


70  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  an:j.  32 

^\Tiatever,  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  defi?ie  the  unknown  man 
in  terms  of  the  knoirn  men  themselves — but  this  knoirn  quantit;/, 
man,  is  variable  and  inconstant,  changing  with  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  institutions  were  likewise  attrib- 
uted, probably  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  humanised  phenomena  and 
processes  of  nature,  of  the  environments  of  their  experience.  Thu.s, 
the  social  and  institutional  organization  of  the  gods  becomes  a  some- 
what idealized  epitome  or  refiex  of  the  human  society  as  it  existed 
and  exists  among  the  people  in  whose  minds  the.se  divine  organiza- 
tions had  their  origin.  By  so  doing  men  painted,  either  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  in  their  religious  activities  and  in  their  god-loi-e 
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  i-eligion  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  human  mind  with  the  forces  and  phenomena  of  lite 
and  environing  natui-e  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  liccome  more  or  less 
highly  idealized  creations  of  the  conscious,  the  subconscious,  and  the 
super.conscious  thinking  of  men. 

The  lesson  of  these  myths  and  legends  is  that  man  is  fither  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. 


m:^S]  '  INTRODUCTION  71 

All  lindios  of  myths  agree  perfeetly  on  one  fuiulaniental  priiuipl^*, 
transformation,  tlironirh  which  all  things  on  this  earth  have  l)erome 
what  thev  are. 

This  principle  of  metamorphosis  iiulicates  the  mental  process  hv 
which  these  ihinirs  weie  represented  as  becomini;  what  they  seemed 
to  be — animated  thinsrs,  subjectively  endowed  with  hnnian  form, 
thought,  and  \dlition.  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  life  and  sur- 
I'dimdinix  nature. 


I  desire  to  record  here  my  grateful  acknowledgment  of  the  assist- 
ance rendered  by  Mv.  F.  \\'.  Ilodge,  ethnologist  in  chai'ge  of  the 
Bureau  of  Amei'ican  Ethnology,  in  the  foiin  of  \aluable  suggestions 
in  connection  with  the  work  and  in  other  ways.  I  wish  also  to 
express  my  appreciation  of  the  courtesy  of  Messrs.  Little,  Brown  ..<: 
Co.,  of  Boston,  in  gi\ing  the  bureau  permission  to  use  freely  the 
material  contained  in  the  instructive  ■"  Introductions"  written  by  the 
late  Jeremiah  C'urtiii  for  his  interesting  books,  published  by  that 
company  under  the  titles:  "Myths  and  Folk-Tales  of  the  Russians, 
Western  Slaxs.  and  Magyar>"":  "  Myths  and  F^)lk-Lore  of  Ireland"; 
"Hero-Tales  of  Ireland";  and  "•  Creation  Myths  of  Primitive 
America." 


rilOXKTIC  KEY 


a  as  in  father 

a  prec'cdiiiir  soiiiid.  prolonired 

a  as  in  wiiat 

ii  as  in  hat 

ii  next  j)rece(linir  mhiikI.  i)rol(injj;ed 

a  as  in  all 

ai  as  in  aisle 

an  as  en  in  nut 

c  as  .s7(  in  shall 

<;  as  th  in  wealth 

(I  [irononnrcd  with  the  tiji  of  the  tonirne  toiiehinir  the  niipcr  teeth, 
as  in  eniniri:ilin<:  Ensrlish  th  in  uilii;  the  only  scund  ol'  (/  enijilnv  cil 
in  writing;  nali\e  words 

e  as  in  they 

e  as  in  met 

1'  as  in  \\:\\  r 

>l  as  in  i,Mir 

h  as  in  hot 

i  as  in  ]ji(jue 

T  next  preceding  sound,  [nolonged 

i  as  in  i)it 

1<  as  in  kifk 

n  as  in  run 

n  as  //'/  in  rinir 

o  as  in  note 

(|  as  r//  in  ( icruian  ieii 

r  slightly  trilled:  this  is  its  only  sound 

s  as  in  sop 

t  pronouneeil  with  the  tip  ol'  the  tongue  tonidiing  the  upper  teeth, 
as  in  enuniiating  the  English  ///  in  with:  this  is  its  only  sound 

u  as  in  rule 

fi  as  in  rut 

\v  as  in  wit 

y  as  in  ve 

73 


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

dj  as  j  in  judge 
Inv  as  wh  in  what 
U-  as  ch  in  cliuix'h 

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

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


MATERIAL  COLLK(TED  BY  JEREMIAH  CURTIN 


FICTION 

1.  TiiF,  Ststf.i:  and  IIkr  Six  Ei.di'.I!  P>i;otiiers 

Once  theie  was  a  lodg-c,  wliicli  extended  east  and  west,  witli  two 
doiiis.  (inc  at  each  end.  The  Hre  burned  in  tlie  middle  of  tlie  lodge, 
which  was  occupied  by  a  sistei'  and  her  six  elder  biotliers.  Three 
of  the  brothers  used  the  eastern  doorway,  and  the  oilier  three  the 
western  ilooi'way,  for  entei-jnir  and  leavini;-  the  lodire.  while  (he  sister 
made  use  of  both  doorways. 

Tiie  eldest  brother  said.  ■"  What  would  you  say.  my  brothers  and 
si-ster.  if  I  shoidd  take  a  wife?  "  "  We  do  not  Unow."  they  rei)lied: 
"perha|)S  nothing,  if  she  does  not  aliu.se  us."  So  he  went  to  bring  the 
young  woman.  I  h>  addressed  her  (jld  m<ilher.  saying.  '".Vre  you  will- 
ing that  thy  daughter  and  I  should  marry?"  .She  replied.  "Cer- 
tainly, if  you  will  not  ill-treat  her.  but  ha\c  pity  on  her."  Then  the 
young  man  went  to  his  home,  where  he  said.  "  .sh,.  will  come." 

Now.  the  mother  made  marriage-bread  for  the  occasion.  \\'hen  it 
was  ready  the  maiden,  bearing  the  bread  on  her  back  by  means  of 
the  forehead  strap,  started  for  the  place  wheiv  abode  the  six  brothers 
and  their  sister,     'i'hey  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  must  ne\ei'  cross  to  the  other  side  of  the  lire:  and  when 
you  desire  to  go  out  of  doors  you  must  invariably  leave  by  this 
eastern  doorway.  But  when  you  desii-e  to  enter  the  lodge  you  must 
enter  at  the  other  side,  through  the  western  doorway." 

Then  it  came  to  pass  that  the  brothei's  began  to  hunt,  as  was  their 
custom. 

Some  time  after  this  event  the  bride  said.  "f)!!.  ])sliaw  !  Wha*" 
the  man  |  her  husband]  thiid\S  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.  hei-  husband,  the  eldest  brother,  was  hunting,  and  he  came 
to  a  deep  gully  over  which  a  log  extended.  In  crossing  on  this  loir 
he  fell  olf  in  such  a  way  that  his  body  was  caught  so  (hat  his  head 
hung  down  into  the  gull}'. 

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

75 


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

luiii  from  the  |)eril<ius  situation  they  earried  liiiu  lionie.  where  tliev 
properly  eared  for  him.  giving  him  food  and  drink  and  dressing  his 
wounds. 

The  next  morning  tiie  younger  brotliers  said  one  to  the  other, 
"The  woman  who  is  dwelling  here  has  abused  ns  in  this  matter: 
therefore  let  her  retui-n  to  her  home."  Overhearing  this  speerh.  the 
young  woman  replied.  "  It  is  well.  Now,  I  shall  go  home."  And. 
arising  in  her  place,  she  departed. 

The  fifth  brother  started  in  pursuit  of  her:  and  as  he  was  about  to 
grasp  her,  she  let  her  skin  robe  lly  i)ack  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
took  out  the  eyes  of  her  pursuer.  When  the  otlier  brothers  became 
aware  of  this  misfortune  which  had  befallen  him,  they  ^Yere  very 
ano'rv  and  started  in  iinrsuit  of  the  voung  woman.  Just  as  thev 
were  about  to  grasp  her,  again  she  let  her  skin  robe  fly  b:irk  so  that 
it  took  out  the  eyes  of  all  the  pursuing  brothers.  Then,  indeed,  they 
were  very  miserable. 

And  now  all  the  work  about  the  lodge  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  little 
girJ.  the  yonng  sister  of  these  blind  brothers.  These  ate  whate\er 
their  young  sister,  all  alone,  was  able  to  get  for  them — weeds  and 
roots  of  \arious  kinds.  She  was  in  the  hal)it  of  running  around  out 
of  doors. 

One  day  when  she  had  gone  for  water  she  saw  some  boys  coming. 
]iaddling  in  a  canoe  and  making  a  great  noise  as  they  drew  near, 
laughing  and  shouting.  When  they  arrived  where  she  was  they  ex- 
claimed. "  Come  hither.  Get  al)oard  and  let  us  ha\  e  some  fun."  But 
she/replied.  "  Xo:  it  will  not  be  possiiile  for  me  to  do  so.  I  will  not 
do  so,  becau.se  I  am  taking  care  of  my  elder  brothers.  They  would 
become  too  miserable  should  I  leave  them."  liut  they  persisted,  say- 
ing, "  Now,  anyway,  for  a  short  distance  you  can  leap  into  this  canoe." 
She  finally  decided  to  comply  with  their  request,  and  saying.  "In- 
deed, yes  I"  she  got  aboard  the  canoe  at  once.  Then  they  started 
l)ack.  and  when  they  arrived  at  a  bend  of  the  river  the  little  gii'l 
.said,  "  Now  I  will  get  out  of  the  canoe."  Hut  her  captors,  saying. 
"  Come  still  a  short  di.stance  farther."  started  on. 

Matters  continued  in  this  wise  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  th?  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,  vou  must  continue  to  reside  here.  There  lives  here, 
too,  another  girl,  who  will  be  your  companion.     You  two  may  play 


CIIITIX,] 


FICTION 


77 


tojretlu'r."'  The  Utile  <rirl  entered  tliis  Iddire.  iind  the  old  woman 
said,  "I  am  tliankrul  thai  my  <rianddaii>^liter  has  arrixeil." 

Some  time  after  tiiis  event  the  little  iiirl  wIid  was  already  in  the 
Iodide  said  to  the  newcomer:  "  Do  yon  know  \\li;it  will  happen  to  us 
in  this  placed  W'v  two  shall  die  here,  for  they  will  kill  us  both 
and  de\()ur  our  hodirs."'  So  the  little  ;j:irl  who  had  just  arrived 
U'jran  to  think  niueh  aliout  her  situation. 

After  a  wiiile  the  little  ijirl  who  was  first  at  ihe  lodfie  said  to  tlu' 
iiewi-oun'r:  "  Now.  verily,  they  are  ahout  t<)  kill  one  of  u.-.  It  is  not 
certain  whleh  it  will  lie — whether  you  or  I.  TonKjrrow  will  deeidi'. 
The  one  to  be  killed  w  ill  be  ordered  to  Ijrinji  water,  and  will  be  killed 
here."  So  when  night  came  the  newcomer  could  not  sleep:  she  wa.s 
thinkinir  durinji  the  entire  nii;ht. 

A\'hen  ilay  beiraii  to  dawn  the  son  of  Dajrwaiuieiiyent  '  '  looked 
down  al  her  throiiiih  the  smokediole,  and  said  to  her:  "  It  is  I  who 
will  aid  you.  When  you  go  after  water  you  mu.st  look  for  tiiree  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 
btanding  there  wlien  she  shall  go  there  to  strike  you  with  her  clul>. 
Now.  do  not  fail  to  do  all  these  things  as  1  have  directed  you." 

In  the  morning  the  old  woman  raised  her  voice,  saying  to  the  little 
newcomer.  "  Ilurrv  I  Arise  and  draw  water."  Then  the  old  woman 
set  the  k'ettle  o\  er  the  tire.  The  girl  went  to  the  spring  and  began  to 
di'aw  water.  While  she  was  di-awing  water  she  carried  the  three 
while  chert  stones  and  i>laced  them  .side  by  side  in  the  desiirnated 
place  and  set  U])  Ihe  doll  there,  too.  She  did  all  that  she  had  been 
directed  to  do  by  the  .-.on  of  Dagw  anoenyent.  She  was  surprised  to 
see  a  ranoe  make  a  landing  there:  in  it  was  a  young  man.  IMacinir 
the  stones  in  the  canoe,  she  got  ai)oard.  as  re(|uested  by  the  yoiuig 
man.     Then  the  canoe  started  ofl'. 

When  the  canoe  was  being  paddled  far  from  the  islaiul  the  ohl 
woman  exclaimed.  "  (i<i-it-<i-(jli .'  .My  grandchild  has  been  gone  a  loni; 
time,"  and.  calling  loudly  for  her,  siie  went  out  to  search  for  her. 
She  ran  around  over  the  entire  island  looking  for  her.  but  was  not 
able  to  lind  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.  Thereu])on  she  --aid.  "She  is  soiuewhat  of  a 
witch.  \'erily,  the  son  of  Dagwanoenyent  has  stolen  her  away  from 
me:  an<l  he  is  a  very  ugly  and  tiltliy  man." 

Now  she  went  to  the  lodge  to  prociu-c  her  fishhook  and  then  to  the 
bank  of  the  lake  at  the  canoe  landing.  After  unwinding  the  lishline 
she  cast  it  after  the  lleeing  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  backwartl.     The  young  man  said,  "  Do  you  overiuni 

o  Till'  superior  ligiircs   refer  to  notes  on   pages  7!)1-S12. 


78  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etu.  ANN.  32 

the  canoe  for  there  is  where  the  hook  has  caught  on  it."'  So  the  j'oung 
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  wa}^  Then  the  old  woman  said,  "  Oh,  it  is  sorrowful  I 
The  son  of  Dagwanoen3'ent  and  the  young  woman  I  shall  soon  punish 
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  w'ay,  whereupon 
she  said  derisively,  "Ze"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  you  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  clnb,  he  struck  them  several  lilows,  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  hiunan  beings  live;"  he  continued,  saying,  ''I  am  not 
certain  what  your  mind  would  think  if  I  should  marry  a  woman,  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, 


CUHTIN, 
HEWITT 


]  FICTION  79 


saying.  "  Yonder,  in  that  stump."  Going  to  the  phice,  the  old  woman 
took  her  daughter-in-law  out  of  the  stump,  and  they  two  went  into 
the  lodge  of  the  Dagwauoenyent  woman,  and  then  the  wolves  began 
to  bark  (howl).  The  young  man  scolded  them,  saying,  "it  is  dis- 
agreeable. You  w-retchcd  dogs!  5'ou  wolves!"  Thereupon  tliese 
domestic  animals  ceased  and  went  under  the  bed. 

Some  time  after  this  the  J'oung  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  slie  kept 
hidden  away.  And  the  two  did  shoot  al  it  in  great  glee,  and  tliis 
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 
(hat  northern  place  there  stood  a  very  large  and  tall  pine  tree;  in  its 
top  rested  the  nest  of  a  Dagwauoenyent,  who  was  an  old  man.  As 
soon  as  the  two  boys  arrived  directly  imder  the  nest  the  old  man 
shouted,  "  Ye'''he!  I  have  detected  you  two,  my  grandchildien." 
Then  this  disobedient  little  boy  in  reply  said,  "  So  be  it.  Wiiat  then 
shall  happen?  "  Now  it  is  reported  that  this  old  Dagwanoenyent  an- 
swered, "  AVould  you  two  be  willing  tliat  it  shoukl  rain,  and  tiiat  tlie 
raindrops  should  be  mixed  with  spears  (darts)."  "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  starteil  for  the  home  of  their  grandmother,  where  the}' 
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." 

Next  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  boj's  entered  its  bod\'  and  it 
carried  them  unobserved  to  the  place  where  stood  the  tree.  Then  the 
boy  came  forth  and,  leaping  up,  shouted,  "  Ye'''he.'  Grandfather.  I 
have  detected  you,  Ye''he'.'''  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  [etii   AXX.  32 

slioulil  it  rain  tire)."  The  old  man  said,  "Hoi  Certainly,  I  can  do 
nothing  about  it.  Come  then,  so  lie  it."  And  the  boy  shouted,  say- 
ing, ■■  Let  it  ruin  fire,"'  and  at  once  it  began  to  rain  fire. 

Then  the  boy  hid  himself  with  his  brother  under  the  rock.  In  a 
very  short  time  the  body  of  the  old  man  took  fire  and  the  dead  Dag- 
wanoenyent  fell  down  there.  Then  the  Iwy  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  Dagwancenyent. 
The  old  woman  said,  "Now  he  was,  indeed,  my  elder  brother"';  and 
she  wept  and  kept  saying,  "  Ycni  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  tliey  were  scarcely 
alive.  The  elder  twin  asked  the  inmate.s  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  lieen  taken  from  us  by 
those  false  women  who  are  making  a  robe  spangled  with  human 
eyes,  and  furthermore  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  biother)  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  place 
where  these  women  obtained  their  water,  he  tiansformed  himself, 
becoming  a  very  small,  young,  blue  duck.  When  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  arriveil  there,  she  related  what 
she  had  seen,  saying,  "  A'erily,  indeed,  I  think  there  must  be  some- 
thing hidden  here  (in  my  body).  I  do  not  know  what  it  is  that  stirs 
about  inside."  Tlie  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 
njive  liirth  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.    The}'  kept  this  up  during  the 


---.]  ■  FICTION  81 

niiilit,  so  they  did  not  jret  any  sleep.  In  the  early  morning  ail  fell 
asleep  fioni  weaiiness.  'I'lie  infant,  however,  was  covered  with  the 
unfinished  roin'  of  human  eyes.  Just  as  soon  as  all  were  asleep  the 
pretended  infant  quiekly  rose,  and,  taking  the  rohe  of  human  eyes, 
he  .starteil  away.  lie  socn  ari'ived  where  he  had  left  his  twin 'brother 
to  await  his  coming.    Then  he  said.  "  Come;  let  us  start.'" 

When  they  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  lodge  of  their  uncles 
stood  they  at  once  hegan  to  put  the  eyes  hack  intc  the  heads  of  their 
ownei-s.  Everyone  first  made  a  selection  from  those  on  the  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.  \\'hereupon  the  latter 
were  able  to  recognize  one  another — their  nephews  and  tlieii'  brother- 
in-law,  tlie  son  of  Dagwanoenyent.  and  also  their  sister. 

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

2.  TuK  Cirii.i)  .\M)  His  ITn(  i.K 

Once  there  was  a  child  who  was  left  alone  in  a  lodge  in  a  forest; 
he  was  enjoying  himself  by  playing  arouml  the  lodge.  \t  last  he 
was  surpi'ised  to  hear  what  seemed  to  him  the  voice  of  a  man,  whicli 
said:  "Is  there  no  toliacco^  Is  there  no  tobacco^  I  should  like  to 
smoke  again."  Then  (he  child  said  to  himself:  "  It  would  seem,  in- 
deed, that  there  is  some  one  around  here  >aying,  "Tobacco,  (live  me 
tobacco,  for  I  want  to  smoke  again.'  Yet  I  have  always  thought  that 
I  am  alone  here.  In  any  exent.  I  shall  look  around  from  place  to 
plare.  It  seems  that  there  is  another  story  (loft)  in  this  lodge,  and 
that  it  is  from  that  place  that  tiiis  man  is  speaking."  But,  foi-get- 
ting  his  resolution  to  look  foi-  the  man.  he  continued  to  play  untd 
nightfall. 

The  next  morning,  while  he  was  again  i>laying  around  the  lodgi^, 
he  was  once  more  surpri.sed  to  hear  the  man  .saying.  "  Is  there  no 
tobacco  i  I  should  like  to  smoke  again."  Then  the  boy  said,  "Oh, 
pshaw  I  I  forgot  this  thing.  i)nt  I  think  that  I  >hall  search  this 
place  tomorrow  to  learn  what  this  talking  may  me.ui." 

So  the  next  morning  he  looked  aroimd  in  many  places.  Finding 
the  loft  in  the  lodge,  he  climl)ed  up  into  it.  and  while  he  was  search- 
ing till'  place  he  was  surprised  to  iind  a  man  lying  down  who  was  so 
lean  that  he  ajipearecl  to  be  merely  dried  bones  covered  with  skin. 
The  boy  said  to  him.  "  What  is  it  that  you  want?  "  And  the  >-kele 
tonlikc  man  rc|ilic(l.  "The  only  thing  I  desire  is  tobacco,  for  I  want 
to  smoke  again."  The  boy,  answering,  saiil.  "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.  t>eyond  measure,  one  of  forl)id 
ding  difliculties  and  frightful  aspert;  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  effects  of  normal  orenda  or  magic 
power:  and  it  is  these  people  who  have  the  tobacco."  After  a  pause 
he  added :  "Along  the  way  through  which  the  path  thither  goes  are 
obstructions  of  the  most  appalling  character.  In  the  first  place, 
there  stands  a  Tree,  a  Pine  Ti-ee.  whose  leaves  drop  on  the  intruder, 
piercing  his  body  and  causing  him  to  die.  Some  distance  beyond 
this  point  are  two  living  things,  which  are  called  Osigwaon:  tliat 
is,  two  huge  Rattlesnakes,  which  occupy  each  side  of  the  path,  and 
which  bite  with  deadly  effect  any  intruder.  Still  farther  bej'ond 
stands  a  great  rock,  through  an  opening  in  which  passes  the  .path, 
and  there  stand  two  great  living  things,  two  S'hagodiyoweqgowa. 
wiiich  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  their 
lodge  in  great  fui\y,  carrying  their  war  clubs,  with  which  they 
(juickly  dispatch  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  any  person 
whatsoever,  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  persons  along  the  pathway  to  the  place 
whei'e  the  toliacco  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  foimd. 

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 
sonie  time,  he  finally  rushed  past  it  just  as  it  was.  although  he  bnast- 
inglj'  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  wliere  the  two 
Rattlesnakes  stood  guard  over  the  pathway.  Going  into  the  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 


ZTi^ri]  FICTION  83 

yon  with  these  chipmunks  fof  the  fa\oi-  T  ask  of  yon."    Soizin<i  tiie 
proffered  cliiiHunnks.  the  Kattiesnakes  licpan  to  swallow  them. 

Starting  onward  again  in  his  joiiiney,  the  hoy  continned  iiis  eour.se 
until  startled  by  seeing  the  two  S'hagodiyowetjgowa  standing  in  the 
narrow  opening  of  tlie  great  roek.  Going  into  the  forest,  he  pro- 
cured .s(inie  lichens,  which  he  cut  up.  Making  his  way  to  the  place 
where  tiie  two  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  were  standing,  he  said  to  them. 
'■  Do  not  enchant  nie:  foi-  this  favor  T  will  recompense  you  with  tiiis 
tobacco."  and.  <asting  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  ])lace  at  which 
the  two  Blue  Herons  were  on  guard  on  the  farther  hank  of  tiie  river, 
at  the  end  of  the  log-crossing.  Immediately  he  went  along  (he  river 
a  short  distance  and  then  began  fishing:  soon  he  took  two  fish.  He- 
turning  to  the  spot  where  the  two  Herons  were,  he  said  to  them,  •'  You 
must  not  give  the  alarm,  for  I  will  recompense  yon  with  these  fish  for 
the  favor  which  T  ask  of  you  " ;  he  gave  each  a  fish  and  then  passivl  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,  "  C\>ine  hither,  thou  mole:  I  am  hungry  (weai'ied)."  Then  the 
mole  came  forth  from  i)Ut  of  the  gr(»nnd  and  the  bov  said  to  it.  "  I 
am  entering  your  body  and  T  want  you  to  go  along  iieneath  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  suiface  of  the  ground.  AVhen  it 
reaclifMl  the  place  where  stood  the  tree  it  came  out  directly  undei- 
the  woman's  skin.  Then  the  boy  came  out  of  the  bodv  of  tiie  mole 
and.  addressing  the  dried  skin  of  the  woman,  said.  "  You  must  not 
tell  that  I  am  here.  Do  me  this  favoi-  anil  I  will  recompense  voii 
with  wampum."  Then  he  went  into  the  forest  and  jieeied  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  hung.  ^\'lleIl  he  ariixed  there  he  said  to  the 
dried  skin,  "Now.  I  am  bringing  you  a  wampum  belt."'^  and  lie 
attached  the  belt  to  the  tree  beside  which  she  then  stood,  as  he  had 
rec)uested  her  to  descend  from  her  usual  position. 

Again  entering  the  mole,  the  boy  went  to  the  lodge,  into  wiiich  he 
went  without  anyone  knowing  of  his  presence:  no  one  of  the  .Seven 
Sisters  nor  their  Mother  knew  of  his  entrance  into  their  lodge.  There 
he  found  a  kettle  of  hominy  .seasoned  with  the  flesh  of  the  bear  {(/an- 
nya'gwai-grov  oirn  nr  ftha'cjaf).  which  he  began  to  eat.  But  he 
■was  sin-pri.sed  to  hear  a  voice  coming  out  of  the  fire  say,  Odegii^hjo 
hodclihoni.  Then  the  old  woman  said.  "This  is  certainly  provoking: 
it  is  perhaps  true  that  Odegwiyo  has  indeed  come  into  the  lodge."  .\t 
once  she  got  her  war  club,  with  which  she  furiously  struck  the  burn- 


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

ing  fii-e  a  blow,  saying  tliut  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-eyetl)   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 
dried  skin  of  the  woman  a  terrible  blow.  The  empty  skin  flew 
away,  alighting  on  the  top  of  another  and  larger  ti-ee. 

In  the  meantime  the  boy  got  possession  of  the  tobacco  and  at  once 
went  out  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 
cari\ving  away  the  tobacco."  They  pursued  him  for  some  distance, 
but  as  he  had  outwitted  them  and  had  .shown  thetu  that  he  possessed 
as  powerful  orenda  as  they  had,  if  not  greater,  they  soon  gave  up 
the  chase.     [Text  incomplete.] 

,  3.  D.TocEoN  (Dwarf-man)  and  His  Uncle 

Djogeon  lived  in  the  woods  with  his  uncle.  When  the  Vioy  was  old 
enough  to  learn,  his  uncle  taught  him  how  to  shoot;  for  this  purpose 
he  took  him  out  to  hunt.  When  the  uncle  grew  tco  old  to  hunt  tlie 
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  he)'e  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 
i-enlized  it  she  had  his  head  in  her  lap  ami  had  begun  searcliiiig 
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  ])laced  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  hunt  here.  I  know  the  place  very  well."  They 
spent  the  night  tiiei'e. 


•™?^]  FICTION  85 

The  iioxt  nidrniiif:  she  scai-clicd  a<r:iiii  in  his  ucud  milii  he  fell 
asleep;  then  piittinir  him  into  the  basket  acairi.  she  liiiriicd  on  as  he- 
I'oi-c  until  hito  in  tiic  afternoon.  She  stoppcil  at  a  lai<e  and.  puttinir 
the  basket  down,  slie  again  awakened  tlie  voiin<r  man.  askinif  iiiiii. 
"Do  you  knf)W  this  iake^"  "Yes;  1  iiave  (ished  liere  many  times 
w  itii  my  nncle."  rcjilicd  tlie  yonntr  man.  Tlien.  taking  out  of  lier 
liasket  a  canoe  no  iarirci"  than  a  wahuit.  she  struck  it  w  itii  lier  iiand 
repeatedly  until  it  Iicimuic  lai'irc  enouirii  to  iiold  ijotii.  'I'licn  tliev 
botii  l)oarded  it  an<l  paddled  aci'oss  the  lak'e.  "  AVe  will  now  ijo 
home."  said  she.  ■"  I  have  a  mothei'  and  three  sisters;  all  the  latter 
are  married  and  li\c  in  tlic  same  loil^'c.  \\'('  will  (_ro  to  thcni."  she 
declai-ed. 

Djoireon  and  his  <-ompanion  traxelcd  on  until  they  readied  her 
mother's  lodtre.  When  they  stood  at  the  dooi-  her  mother  saw  the 
stranerer  witii  her  dau<rhter  and  cried  out.  "'  A\'elcome.  son-in-law.  I 
am  irlad  you  ha\e  conu'.""  Djoireon  became  tlie  xounir  woman's  bus 
band,  and  they  lixcd  happily  until  one  niiiht  the  old  woman  had  a 
frillhtfiil  dream,  i-ollinef  out  of  her  couch  and  over  the  lloor  to  the 
ed<i:e  of  the  lii'c.  Then  lier  son-in-law  jumped  up  and  asked  his 
mother-in-law.  "  What  is  the  matter?  .\ie  you  dreamin<r.  mothei-in- 
law  ? '■  She  jiaid  no  attention  to  him  iiut  rolled  about,  mutterinu:  to 
her.self.  Then  he  said,  "I  will  make  ber  li'-teu."  and.  lakinir  the 
pestle  for  poundinit  corn.  li(>  bit  her  a  beavy  blow  on  tbe  bead.  She 
started  np.  sayinir.  "Oh!  I  lia\c  had  such  a  bad  dicaui.  I  dreamed 
that  my  son-in-law  would  kill  the  (laniairwaiheirowa."  "  ( )li."said  he, 
"  I  will  attend  to  that  in  the  niornin":-  Now  "fo  to  sleep,  molber-in- 
law."  The  ne.xt  mornin<r  the  old  woman  told  ber  son-in-law  be  must 
kill  the  bear  and  brinj:  it  back  (juickly.  So  he  soujrbt  and  killed  the 
bear  without  mucb  trouble  ami  bnuiiibt  il   bome. 

The  next  ni<rbt  she  dreamed  that  be  must  mal<e  a  <rreat  feast  for 
the  Dagwanoenyent.'  and  that  he  miwt  invite  them  all  to  a  feast  and 
jn'ovide  so  much  food  that  they  would  not  be  able  to  eat  it  all.  The 
next  day  be  bunted  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  ibe  Da- 
gwanoenyent to  come  to  a  great  feast  iirejiared  for  them  to  eat  their 
lill.  They  answered  bim.  all  agreeing  to  be  at  the  fea.st.  Soon  thev 
began  to  nfipear.  one  after  another:  tiiey  came  in  such  nimibers  that 
the  shelves,  the  floor,  and  the  seats  were  filled  with  them.  'I'hev  be 
gan  to  eat.  and  ale  with  a  terrible  apix-tite.  The  old  woman  went 
around  urging  them,  saying.  "Eat.  eat  your  (ill.  I  want  all  to  have 
plenty  to  eat  in  my  lodge."  They  ate.  and  tbe  old  woman  still  ur-.^ed 
them,  hoping  that  tbe  sujiply  wnubl  run  sbort  and  her  son-in-law 
woidd  be  killed.  'Hie  son-in-law,  with  his  wife,  her  thi'ee  sisters,  and 
their  husbands  went  out  to  ha\e  more  food  brought  in  ease  of  need. 


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

At  last  the  Dagwanoenyent  ate  until  their  jaws  could  move  no 
longer  and  their  tongues  refused  to  stir.  They  said,  "  We  have  had 
enough.  Mother,  mother,  enough."  When  he  heard  tliese  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  Dagtt  anoen}  ent,  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  puifballs  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  imcle. 

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.  AVhen  they  were  far  from  home  darlmess  came  upon 
tliem,  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 


^."ewS]  fiction  87 

charmed  by  his  great  beauty  of  face  and  form.  He  wore  a  wampum 
sasli  around  his  body  and  a  fitie  lieaddress  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  tliat  he  would  await  her  answer.  Answeriiiij; 
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 
stiange  man  stood  near  the  iii-e  while  waiting  foi-  an  answer  from 
the  two  women. 

The  young  woman  told  her  mothci-  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  etpuvocal  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.  A\'hen  they  liad 
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  oiit  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.  Thev 
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  clo.sed  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  Hung  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  himt  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.  axn.  82 

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 
5he  went  forth  to  get  fuel  for  the  fire  and  to  bring  water  to  the  lodge. 
Wliile  thiis  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  hu.sband  came  home  as  before.  After  he  had 
gone  out  to  himt  the  third  time  she  began  seriously  to  think  of  escap- 
ing from  the  terrible  place  in  which  she  found  herself,  and  firmly 
i-esolved  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. 
When  she  looked  into  his  face  he  said:  "My  poor  grandchild,  you  are 
very  unfortunate.  The  seeming  man  to  whom  you  are  mai'ried  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  th^ir  bodies.  Their  hearts 
:ire  tied  in  a  bunch  of  seven,  which  is  carefully  hidden "  under  the 
couch  of  the  eldest  one.  You  must  now  get  it  and  escape  with  it. 
Mv  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  slie  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  liow  you  may  try."  All  her  strength  seemed  to 
leave  her:  but  at  that  mfunent  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  hid  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  AVind  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  had  been  to  them  in  killing  the  great  serpent  and 
his  progeny  :  for  the  old  grandfather  had  blasted  the  liunch  of  hearts 
with  the  lightnings  and  had  shot  them  with  his  arrows,  thus  killing 
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  tlie  head  appeared  to  her  more  fierce  and  ugly 


Z!T:^]  FICTION-  89 

tlian  l)('t'(ni'.  'i'lieii  her  griuidfatlu'r  saiil.  "  Now,  mv  grandchild,  yoi; 
iiiiist  go  liome  witli  us."  After  ]iackiiig  .snitalile  loads  of  the  serpent's 
Hesh  they  started  for  home,  each  with  a  load  of  the  meat  on  his  back.'" 

In  a  short  time  thev  came  to  what  seemed  to  lier  to  l)e  a  lodge, 
"hicli  they  entered;  theie  the  young  woman  saw  an  old  man  wliose 
liair  was  as  white  as  snow  and  whose  manner  an.d  voice  were  kind. 
To  him  the  leader  of  the  jiarty  saiil.  "This  woman  of  tiie  human 
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  thankftd  for  the  great  iielp  you  have  given  us  in  killing  tliat 
awful  serpent  and  his  wicked  progeny."  \Miile  she  was  sitting  tliere 
the  old  man  said,  "My  granddaughter,  come  here  to  my  side." 
When  she  stood  heside  him  he  ruhhcd  her  body  up  and  down  with 
his  hands,  fortified  with  his  orenda.  ^^'llercllpon  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  liei-  to  i)c 
seated. 

While  she  remained  in  this  lodge  the  younger  people  wont  out  to 
hunt  when  they  had  the  inclinatit)n  to  do  so.  They  would  bring  corn 
for  her  to  eat.  as  they  knew  she  could  not  eat  their  food,  wiiich 
was  in  large  measure  the  flesh  of  the  serpents.  They  would  tell  her 
where  they  had  gathered  the  corn,  aiul  they  told  her  also  tlie  names 
of  the  peo]ile  from  whom  they  had  taken  it:  she  iccognized  the  names 
of  .s<uiie  of  the  pe(:i)Ie  mentioned. 

One  day  the  old  man  said  to  his  sons.  "  Perhai)s  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  you  to  take  the  yotnig  woman  with  you  to  hunt.  She  shall 
thus  sectu'e  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  iyiiii: 
on  a  rock.  One  of  our  number  shot  at  it.  but  ho  was  not  quick  enougii 
to  avoid  the  rush  of  the  great  bloodsucker,  and  ho  was  caiigiit  bv  it. 
He  lies  there  on  the  rock',  and  we  <Mn  nut  save  him,  nor  can  we  kill 
the  bloodsucker.  But  you  will  go  with  us.  will  you  not?"  Sjie  cdn- 
sonted  to  go.  and  they  started  for  the  place. 

AVhen  tiiev  arrived  at  the  ]ilace  they  looked  ih  wn  into  the  water, 
tar  into  its  dejiths,  and  there  they  saw  the  great  bloodsucker.  .Ml 
the.se  men  went  high  up  into  the  clouds  and  .><hot  arrows  down  into  the 
water  at  the  great  bloodsucker,  but  they  all  failed  to  hit  it.  Then 
they  aslcod  the  young  woman  to  slioot  an  arrow.  Willingly  she  took 
her  liow  and  arrows  and  shot  into  the  water  at  the  monster.  The 
great  bloodsucker  moved.  -Vt  her  second  shot  there  was  a  terrii)le 
struggle  and  commotion  in  the  water.  When  all  became  <iuiet  again, 
and  while  she  was  still  U]>  in  the  clouds  with  the  men.  they  saw 
tliat   the  gieat  bloodsucker  was  dead.     Just  as  soon  as  the  monster 


90  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.  ans.  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  thinlv  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 — pouhding  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.  AVhen  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  desii-e  to  break  his  command.  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  urged  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  you.  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 


^H^cw.'^]  FICTION  91 

out  of  this  world,"  said  she ;  "  I  know  that  you  are  poor:  you  liave  no 
rehitives;  you  were  left  alone.  None  of  tlie  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 
tlien  T  will  he  tliei-c."  Towai'd  daylu'eak  she  went  out,  stalling  otl 
in  the  direction  from  wliich  slie  said  she  had  come. 

In  the  morning  after  preparing  and  eating  some  food  lie  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  iinished  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  tlay  the  man 
began  to  kill  all  kinds  of  game.  The  woman  .stayed  with  iiiin  all  the 
time  and  did  all  the  necessary  work  at  tlie  camp. 

When  the  hunting  season  was  over,  siie  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 
wiien  you  get  there  everybody  will  find  out  that  you  have  brought 
all  kinds  of  meat  and  skins.  One  will  come  to  you  and  say,  'You 
must  many  my  daughter."  An  old  woman  will  say,  '  You  mu.st 
nuirry  my  granddaughter.'  but  do  not  listen  to  them.  Remain  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  olTer.  many  went  and  brought 
back  all  they  could  carry.  Still  there  was  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 
many  his  daughter.  The  orphan  was  afraid  if  he  refused  harm 
would  come  to  him,  for  the  chief  was  a  powerful  man.  .\t  last  he 
couj-ented  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."  AH  started  olV.  one  after 
another.  When  all  had  gone  he  went  alone  to  the  lodge  where  he 
was  to  meet  the  woman,  .\rriving  there  he  prepared  the  bed,  and 
early  in  the  night  the  woman  came  in;  stopping  halfway  between 


92  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  axn.  3? 

the  door  and  the  couch,  she  said,  "  I  am  soriT  you  have  not  done  as? 
I  tokl  j'ou  to  do.  I  can  not  stay  with  you.  but  I  decided  to  come  once 
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.  This  woman  who  had  befriended  the 
orphan,  it  was  said,  was  a  ghost  woman. 

6.  Hahnowa   (the  Tlktle)   and  His  Fohces  on  the  AVarpath 

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

One  day  the  tliought  again  came  to  him  that  he  should  go  on  the 
war)iath.  So  following  the  lead  of  his  desire,  he  made  the  necessai'y 
prepaiations  and  then  boarded  his  canoe  and  paddled  away  along 
the  river,  singing  as  he  went  along,  "  I  am  on  the  warpath.  I  iun  on 
the  warpath."  AA'hen  he  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  from  his 
lodge  he  was  hailed  by  a  man  who  came  running  to  the  liank  of  tiie 
river  calling  out.  "Hallo,  friend  I  Stop  a  moment!  I  will  go  too. 
We  will  go  on  the  warpath  together."  So  Hahnowa  stopped  at  the 
landing,  and  there  on  the  bank  stood  an  elk.  which  said  to  Haluidwa. 
"I  should  like  to  go  with  you  on  the  warpath."  Hahno\\;a  replied: 
"  Before  giving  my  consent.  I  desire  to  see  you  run.  for  we  might 
be  defeated  and  then  we  shall  have  to  run  for  our  lives,  and  unless 
we  can  escape  through  our  speed  we  shall  be  killed  and  scalped.  Now. 
therefore,  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." 

Keentering  his  canoe.  Hahnowa  started  off.  singing.  "I  am  on  the 
warpath.  T  am  on  the  warpatli."  In  a  slioit  time  a  man  hailed  liim. 
saj'ing.  "Come  liack  to  the  landing.  I  should  like  very  mucli  to  go 
with  you  on  the  warpath."  So  Hahnowa  turned  and  maile  a  land- 
ing. Then  he  said  to  his  friend.  "You  must  run  to  show  me  your 
speed,  for  _\ou  can  not  go  with  me  unless  you  can  run  very  swiftly. 
Therefore  run  to  that  second  mountain  and  liack  at  your  highest 
speed."  Then  Senon  "  showed  his  great  orcnda  and  staited  off'.  l)Uthe 
had  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  oft',  the  Hahnowa  singing,  "I  am  on  the  war- 
path.    I  am  on  the  v.-arjiath.     But  you.  brother,  smell  t|uite  strong." 

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


----,,]  FICTION  93 

«aid.  "  T  see  that  yon  are  on  the  wai'path  and  T  want  to  ac-coini)any 
you."  The  Tiirth'  ans\vefe<l  liini.  "If  you  are  a  irood  runner.  T  will 
take  you.  To  te.st  your  si^eed  you  must  iiiii  to  yonder  second  luouii 
tain  and  hack."  So  Kahi'hda.'-  for  it  was  he.  t  urninjj;.  started  on  a  run. 
In  tiiis  attempt  his  feet  cros.sed  and  he  stunililed  and  feU.  Hut  he 
quickly  arose  and  had  taken  hut  a  few  stej)*  fai'ther  wlicn  Tuitle 
called  to  liim  to  stoj).  telliiiir  him.  "  Vou  will  do.    Come  to  tiie  canoe." 

So  the  motley  crew  started  olf.  with  tiie  Turtle  sinfrintr.  "  AA'e  are 
on  the  warpath,  ^'ou.  iimthci-.  smell  pretty  stroii<r.  ^'on.  hidtlier. 
have  plenty  of  arrows." 

Tiiev  had  not  proceeded  far  when  a  man  from  the  hank  hailed 
them,  sayinii.  "Stop!  Come  to  the  laii<l.  for  I  want  to  1:0  with  you 
on  the  warpath."  So  the  Turtle  and  his  friends  landed  and  the 
Tiutle  informed  I)e<i;iyah<;;on  '■"■  that  he  nuist  show  great  ^jx'cd  in  run- 
ning to  he  acceptahle  as  a  com|>ani<>n  on  the  warpath,  and  he  said. 
■'Kun  as  swiftly  as  you  can  to  yonder  second  mountain  and  return." 
Degiyahgon  was  instantly  off.  hieaking  and  crashing  through  the 
boughs  and  shi'uhliery  as  he  rushed  headlong  on  his  way.  When 
Degiyahgon  returned,  the  Turtle  said.  ■"  ^Ou  have  failed  in  your  trial 
of  speed."  and  he  and  his  fiiends  again  got  alioard  of  their  canoe  and 
sailed  away,  singing  as  l)efore. 

The\'  had  not  proceeded  far  when  a  man  hailed  them  from  the 
shore,  saying.  "  Hring  the  canoe  to  the  land,  for  I  desire  to  accom- 
pany you  on  tli<'  warpath."  The  'i'urtle  replied.  '•  I  shall  first  come  to 
see  you  run,  for  we  can  take  only  swifi  ruiuu-rs.  as  something  may 
hai)])en  while  we  are  gone  which  will  make  it  necessary  for  us  to  rim 
for  our  live.s.  So  go  to  that  second  mountain  yonder  and  return  as 
speedily  as  it  is  possible  for  you  to  do  .so."  So  Sigwaon  '*  laised  him- 
self to  run.  when  Tiu'tle  exclaimed,  ••()li,  you  will  do  I  ^'ou  may 
come  with  me,  too." 

So  the  picked  band  of  warriors  again  started,  the  Turtle  singing. 
•■  A\'e  are  on  the  warpath.  Vou,  brother,  smell  ])retty  strong.  You, 
brother,  have  many  arrows.    .\nd  you.  brother.  ha\e  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,  'i'hey  soon 
arrived  at  the  ]ilace  and  disembarked.  The  Turtle  told  his  com- 
panions that  each  must  choo.se  the  place  best  suiteil  to  his  particular 
method  of  lighting.  So  Senon  declared  thai  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  woidd  attack  with  his  arrows  the  first  per.son  who 
•came  out  for  wood.  Sigwaon  on  his  part  cho.se  the  skin  bucket  in 
which  the  shidled  corn  was  kept,  declaring  that  he  would  a.ssault  the 
first  person  who  should  come   for  corn.     Lastly,  Turtle  exclaimed 


94  SENFXA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [bth   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  the  mother  of  the  Seven 
Sisters  arose  and  took  a  fire  poker  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  ej'es.  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  clubs  and  fought  until  they  had  killed  Iiim.  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.  A\'hen  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  until  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  sisters  to  her  assistance,  who  at  once  responded. 
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 
stooped  down  to  draw  up  the  water,  whereupon  she  was  seized  by  Tur- 
tle. He  caught  her  by  the  toe  and  held  on  persistently;  she  tried  re- 
peatedly, but  she  could  not  get  him  off.  Then  she  walked  back- 
ward, dragging  him  along.  When  she  arrived  at  the  lodge  her 
mother  was  very  angrj'  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  fire,  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 


---0  yicTiox  95 

bottom.  Btit  in  n  f*w  moments  he  rose  to  the  surface  of  the  water 
in  midstream  and.  holding  out  ids  daws  as  if  exlubiting  scalps,  he 
exclaimed  in  derision.  "  I  am  a  liraxc  man.  and  here  is  where  I  live," 
and  he  at  once  sank  out  of  siirht. 

7.    TiiK  <  )i.i)  Man's  (ihandson  and  iiii    Ciiikf  of  the  Desehtkd 

^'II.l,A<.E 

A  certain  grandfather  and  his  grandson  lived  together.  They  were 
the  only  people  of  their  tribe  left.  .\11  the  others  had  been  killed  by 
sorcerers. 

\\'hen  the  boy  became  old  enough  he  had  bows  and  arrows  gi\en 
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 
bi'ought  in. 

One  day  the  grandfather  said :  "  Now.  you  are  old  enough  to  marry 
a  wife.  T  should  like  to  have  a  woman  here  to  cook.  You  must  go 
bouth  and  find  a  wife.  The  people  there  are  good  and  healthy.  None 
of  them  have  been  killed  otT.  For  an  ordinary  man  to  reach  tlieir 
village  it  is  a  jouiney  of  six  years,  but  you  will  go  much  more 
quickly."  The  grandfather  gave  the  young  man.  among  other  things, 
a  pail'  of  moccasins  and  sent  him  off. 

-Vbout  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. 
'I'hen  he  went  to  the  Long  Lodge."'  and  he  looked  in ;  there  he  saw  the 
dead  body  of  a  young  woman,  well-dressed,  with  beautiful  ornament.s. 
lying  on  a  bench  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  As  he  looked  in.  he 
thought.  '■  I  will  go  in  and  take  tho.se  things.  They  will  be  good 
presents  for  my  wife  wiien  T  find  one."  So  he  went  in,  took  off  the 
bracelets  and  neck  oinaments  antl  then  went  out.  After  he  was  out- 
side of  the  Long  Lodge  he  said  to  himself.  "I  think  I  will  go  home 
DOW  and  look  for  a  wife  another  day." 

So  he  started  nortiiward.  as  he  thought,  running  along  (juickly. 
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  I^ong  Lodge, 
and  he  thought.  "Well.  I  must  have  made  some  mistake  in  the  direc- 
tion." lie  took  his  bearings  again  and  nurried  on  toward  iiome. 
Again  he  came  out  in  the  .same  village.  ''  It  nuist  be  that  this  woman 
biings  me  back  because  1  have  taken  her  oi'iiaments.  T  will  gi\e  them 
back  to  her."  So  he  went  into  the  Long  Lodge  and  ])ut  ail  tlie  orna- 
ments back  on  the  dead  body  and  hurried  homeward.  On  the  way 
he  killed  a  bear.      Skinning  it  and  taking  some  of  the  best  meat,  he 


96  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  an.v.  32 

put  it  into  the  skin  and  carried  it  with  him,  running  as  fast  as  lie 
could,  hoping  to  reach  home  that  night.  Once  more  he  came  out  at 
the  same  Liong  Lodge  in  the  opening  at  the  time  it  began  to  be  dai'k. 
"  Well,  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  num.  "  AVell,  I  will  give  it  some  meat."  So  he  threw  it  pieces 
of  meat  and  heard  the  sounds  made  as  they  were  being  eaten.  Aftei- 
he  had  eaten  his  supper  he  got  tmder  the  bearskin  to  sleep.  But  he 
soon  felt  something  begin  to  pull  the  skin  at  his  feet.  When  the 
fire  began  to  die  out  he  arose  quickly  and  stirred  up  the  embei-s. 
])utting  on  more  wood.  All  was  quiet,  however,  and  he  lay  down 
again.  After  a  while,  as  the  tire  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  whei'e  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  closelv; 
then,  leaving  it  on  the  floor,  he  cooked  his  breakfa.'^t. 

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  liut  a  blood-clot 
about  the  size  of  his  fist.  First,  he  matle  a  wooden  ladle  with  his 
flint  knife.  Then,  heating  water,  he  dissolved  in  it  some  of  the 
blood.  Forcing  open  the  skeleton  woman's  jaws,  he  ])ovn-ed  down 
her  throat  some  of  the  blood.    Again  he  did  the  same  thing. 

At  length  her  brea.st  began  to  heave.  AVhen  he  had  given  her  Iialf 
the  blood  she  breathed,  and  when  she  had  taken  all  the  lilood  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  thai 
my  father  and  all  his  people  had  to  leave,  and  I  was  left  here  for 
dead.'"    "  Come !    I  will  go  with  you  to  hiui,"  said  the  young  man. 

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


^°/JS]  FICTION  97 

inhabited  by  a  Crofl  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  tliey  were 
l)oth  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 
btomach  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  tlie  finest  man  I  have  ever  .seen.  T  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 
liunt  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  aliead.  and,  flying  back,  said  to  the 
young  man:  "I  will  fly  behiiid  those  deer  and  drive  them  this  way. 
You  can  kill  all."  The  j^oung  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  tlic  news.  an<l  said:  "  AVhat  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°— IS 7 


98  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  (eth.  ann.  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  with  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  village  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  went  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  the  morning.  We  are  on  a  buffalo  hunt.  There  are  three 
buffaloes,  two  old  and  one  young,  which  run  underground.  If  they 
should  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  except  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."  Climbing  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  ti"ee.      Drawing  back,  he  ran  and 


cc 

HE 


s'^fS]  FICTION  99 


juniiied  into  the  middle  of  the  deer  liclv,  sinkinjr  ahnost  to  his  waist 
in  the  mud:  lie  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  the  place  whence  he  leaped,  it  jumped 
after  him.  lie  dragged  himself  along,  pulling  one  leg  after  the  otlier ; 
the  animal  sank  so  it  could  scarcely  move.  The  man  at  last  got  to 
solid  ground,  but  the  Ganiagwaihegowa  sank  deeper  and  deeper. 
When  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  Imow  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  j'ou  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.  AVhen  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  niglit.  but  he 
paid  no  heed  to  their  begging. 

In  the  morning,  after  he  had  tnneled  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  tiaveled  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  troubled  as  you  were  last  night,  but  pa3'  no  heed  to  the 
words;  if  you  escape  tonight,  you  will  have  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  before, 
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'liagodiyowetigowa.'"  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  sti'engtli. 


100  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth  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.  "  Well,  my  huslismd  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 
staj'ed  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  b}'  and  heard  his  fatiier- 
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  come.  That  morning  they  went  to  the  j)iace  where  the  drum 
was  beaten.  The  little  Buffalo  was  chief  of  all  these  people.  He  iiad 
two  wives.  When  they  got  to  the  place  the  whole  multitude  danced 
all  night,  and  the  little  Buffalo  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  very  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  the}'  smiled  and  looked  pleased,  and  the  young  man  asked  them 
for  a  drink;  they  gave  it  to  him  and  went  on.  Hi.«  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  rumier  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  Avas  to  be  the  winner.  The 
father-in-law  said,  "  You  must  have  an  extia  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, 


S^^  FICTION  101 

for  the  Buffalo  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  beliind. 
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  us  they  came  near  the  stopping  place  the  people  en- 
couraged the  man  to  shoot  a  second  time.  He  did  so,  and  the  Bull'alo 
fell  dead.  So  the  words  of  the  Djogeon  were  fulfilled  that  some  one 
would  come  who  would  kill  tlie  young  Buffalo.  The  people  crowded 
around  the  man  and  thanketl  him  for  what  he  had  done. 

After  this  the  old  man  said  to  the  people,  "All  can  go  where  they 
like."  They  separated.  l)ut  he  and  his  wife  with  their  son-in-law  and 
daughter  went  home.  Then  tiie  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  mothei-in-hiw.  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  inothei-  and  I  will  stop  in  these  woods;  your 
mother  is  making  maple  sugar  and  we  will  iielp  her  all  we  can." 
The  young  man  saw  his  mothei-  and  at  nigiit  went  to  the  lodge,  leav- 
ing his  wife  and  her  luotlu'r  in  tiie  woods. 

In  the  night  the  wife  and  mothei'  collected  all  the  sap  and  brought 
a  great  [)ile  of  wood.  The  next  moi-ning  wiien  the  mother  and  her 
son  went  to  the  woods  tliey  found  no  sap  in  the  troughs  under  the 
ti'ees,  but  when  they  got  to  the  boiling  j)lace  the  big  trough  was  full 
and  a  great  i)ile  of  wcxtd  was  near  by.  The  woik  continued  for  some 
days.  Then  the  old  woman  said  to  liei-  son-in-law:  ••  It  is  time  for 
me  to  go  home  to  my  husband,  and  now  you  may  lie  free.  Have  no 
liard  feelings.  I  shall  take  my  daughtei-  with  me.  You  must 
stay  with  your  mother.  There  are  many  women  about  here  who  want 
to  marry  you.  but  do  not  marry  them :  there  is  but  one  that  you  should 
nuirry — the  gianildaughter  of  the  woman  who  li\es  in  the  last  lodge 
at  the  edge  of  the  village.  They  are  very  ])oor  and  the  girl  takes  care 
of  her  gi-andmother.  You  may  tell  the  peojde  when  you  get  home 
that  you  saw  buffalo  tracks  in  the  swamp;  let  thejn  come  out  and 
shoot:  the  more  they  shoot  the  sooner  we  shall  get  home." 

The  uuin  told  the  peopfe  that  he  saw  tracks  in  the  swamp.  The 
people  went  out,  but  did  not  get  far  before  they  o^•ertook  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  gra^iddaughter  of  the  old  woman  who  lived  in  the  last 
lodge  on  the  edge  of  the  village. 

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

9.  A  Woman  and  Her  Bear  Lover 

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  puny  and.  sickly.  The  man  was 
much  troubled  by  this  and  began  to  think  that  his  wife  was  to  blame. 
Every  day  lie  set  out  to  hunt,  and  the  woman  went  to  get  wood  and 
to  dig  wild  potatoes. 

One  day  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  quidcly  to  the  wonds.  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  hunter  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  merely 
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.  The}'  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  wei-e  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 


CLKTIN, 

HEWITT 


]  FICTION  103 


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

A  couple  of  days  later  the  father  said  to  the  elder  boy,  "  I  tliinlc  I 
must  go  after  your  niotlier;  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  fiist  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  w^ould  like  to 
have  her.''  The  boy  did  as  directed.  "All  right,"  said  the  chief, 
"  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  on 
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  hu.=band  ajipcared  at  the  lodge  of  the  Crows, 
asking  whether  tlicv  had  seen  sucli  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  married  to  one  of  the 
chief's  sons."  "Go  over,"  said  the  (iagahgowa  ="  to  one  of  his  sons, 
"  and  tell  the  chief  that  his  daugliter-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  tliat  liis  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,  wliere  they  inquired,  "  Have  yon 
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.  You  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  aYid  her  husband.  "  Xo,"  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:  "  Run  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  back  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  luck  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  you  know  where  they  are  living 
now."  After  a  long  search  they  found  the  Crow  family  living  in 
happiness  and  plenty,  far  away  in  the  woods.  AVhen  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.  "  ^ly  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. 


^'b'Jv'S]  fiction  105 

10.  The  Fox  and  the  Ivabiiit 

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).  'J'he  first  man  decided  to  iiiii  for  liis 
life.  Starting  on  a  run,  he  circled  round  and  round,  trying  to  escape^ 
but  the  other  nuxn,  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,  saying  to  them.  "  You  run  on  ahead  as  fast  as  you 
can,"  he  himself  lay  down  and  became  a  dead  rabbit,  half  rotten,  and 
all  dii-ty  ami  l)hu'k. 

When  the  second  man  came  up  and  saw  the  black,  dirty  old  carcass 
and  tile  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,  thinlcing,  "This  fellow  has 
surely  fooled  me.    The  next  time  1  will  eat  the  meat  anyhow." 

Thereupon  the  man-eater  turned  back.  As  expected,  the  dead 
rabbit  was  gone,  and  he  followed  the  tiacks.  He  soon  came  ujioii  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  answeii'd.  "Yes:  some  one 
passed  here  just  now."  The  pretended  cord-maker  had  sent  his 
moccasins  on  again. 

The  man-eater  Juiri'ied  on.  and  the  cord-maker,  springing  up,  ran 
on  a  little  and  then  turne<l  himself  into  an  old  tree  with  dry  limbs. 
He  had  made  a  circuit  and  came  in  ahead  of  tlie  man-eater.  When 
ihe  latter  came  to  the  tree,  he  said,  "  1  believe  that  he  has  turned 
himself  into  a  tree;"  so.  ])unching  the  tree,  he  bioke  oil  a  limi)  tiuu 
looked  like  a  nose,  and  that  fell  like  dead  wood.  Then  the  i;in-eater 
said,  "I  do  not  think  that  it  is  he,"  and  started  oil  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."  lie  hurrietl 
back:  wiien  lie  came  to  the  spot  where  the  tree  had  been  it  was  gone, 
but  where  he  had  broken  o(F  tiie  limb  lie  found  blood.  Then  he  knew 
that  the  tree  was  the  man  he  was  seeking,  and  he  followed  the  tracks. 

When  the  man  saw  that  iiis  enemy  was  after  him  again,  he  lied 
until  he  chanced  to  <-ome  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  other  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  [eth.  ann.  32 

11.  The  Snake  with  Two  Heads 

In  olden  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  man}'  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  kept  growing  and  ate  larger  and  larger  game.  It  de- 
voured anj'thing  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  onlj'  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  an-ow  with  blood  from  his  sister's  catamenial  flow. 

When  the  man  arrived  near  the  moimtain  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  oi-der  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,  "We  will  gn  and  land  at  a 
point  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 


^^;^f\  ■  FICTION  107 

mouth  of  an  aflliieiit  of  the  stream  upon  which  they  first  started  and, 
having  arrived  at  their  destination,  the  leader  of  the  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  i)ower,  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  liuiitei-s  said  :  "  I  am  going  a  little  fartiier  away 
than  usual.  I  am  limiting  ollcs."  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  feai-  souiething 
evil  may  come  to  us." 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  one  of  the  hunters  was  exceedingly  stub- 
born and  would  not  accept  advice  fi-om  any  souix-e.  So.  without 
regard  fur  the  tiuiely  caution  of  his  chief,  lie  went  fartiier  than  he 
had  intended  to  go,  after  an  elk.  AVhen  nigiit  <'niiie  all  the  hunters 
reached  camp  safe,  except  this  stubboi-n  man.  As  the  others  gath- 
ered around  their  fire  at  night  they  discus.scd  his  ju-obablc  fate  if  h(> 
had  gone  too  great  a  distance,  reaching  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
gone  fai'ther  away  than  he  had  intended  to  go. 

Now,  the  stubborn  man  lu'.d  traveled  all  day.  ^^'h('n  night  came 
on  he  erected  a  brush  lodge  and  kindled  a  bright  tire.  He  had  en- 
camjied  near  a  stream.  Soon  he  heard  in  the  distance  voices  which 
seemed  to  be  those  of  human  beings.  Looking  across  the  stream  he 
saw  on  the  farthei-  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  (l(>lighted  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.  axn.  32 

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  noC  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  distance  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  w^omen  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,  lest  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. 

Kealizing  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  thev  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. 


^'^f.^S]  FICTION  109 

The  women  could  not  walk  side  by  side,  but  one  had  to  follow  the 
other.  The  yt)Uiiger  one  carried  the  baby.  When  they  saw  him  Inick 
at  his  own  tire,  they  became  (juite  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  1  do  not 
want  you  to  reach  me."  One  of  the  women  tauntingly  replied,  "On 
tile  other  hand,  you  aie  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,  wliich  he  liit  with 
terrific  force.  Seeing  his  skill,  one  of  the  women  said,  "  There,  he  is 
really  a  man  to  be  feaied,"  and  ?hc  showed  signs  of  astonishment  at 
his  feats.  The  younger  woman  exclaimed,  "We  have  now  come  into 
contact  with  Thunder  (i.  e.,  Ilinon),  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  1  intended  to  do 
at  first." 

While  they  were  talking  it  grew  dark  and,  night  coming  on,  the 
hunter  could  not  see  them  but  he  coidd  still  heai-  tlieui  conveise  to- 
gether-. The  elder  woman  was  angry  to  think  that  he  had  endeavored 
to  avoid  them  in  every  way..  Ila\ing  discovei-ed  who  they  were,  the 
hunter  was  very  cautious  in  his  movements  and  continually  on  his 
giuird  lest  they  come  on  him  uiuiwares.  Finding  that,  tmder  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  i)itch  against  him.  He  renuiined  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  nearly  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  himter  saw  the  woman  overtaking  him  he  put  forth  his  best 
efforts  to  nuiintain  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.  32 

came  to  the  tree.  Like  all  Genonsgwa  she  could  not  look  up  into  the 
tree,  for  they  are  prevented  from  doing  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  her  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 
placed  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  nuxn  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  linger  to 
us.''  But,  finding  the  finger  of  great  service  to  him,  he  paid  no  heed 
to  their  pleadings. 

He  could  run  much  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  hi3 
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  loiew  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  had  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  himting  party  asked :  "  What 
did  you  take  from  her?    It  may  be  true  that  we  shall  have  greater 


^"/JS]  FICTIOX  111 

success  if  you  return  it  to  her.  I  think  you  would  lictter  do  so. 
Show  me  what  you  toolc  from  her."  Tlie  young  hunter  then  ch'ew 
out  the  animate  finger  and  showed  it  to  him.  The  chief  at  once  said, 
"Let  her  liave  it  again."  The  hunter  replied:  "It  is  well.  I  sup- 
pose slie  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  hold 
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  young  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,  M'hich  he  always 
consulted  and  which  would  always  jioint  out  where  he  would  find 
whatever  game  he  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  man}'  fine  furs  and  feather  robes. 

13.  The  GnANDMdTiiKi!  and  Hkk  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  angry,  and  with  all  their  might  they  ran  for  their 
lives.  They  heard  tlie  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  are  running  our  best  for  life."  At  the  end 
of  the  song  she  could  scarcely  hear  the  sound  of  the  aninuite  skin 
following  them.  Not  long  afterward  she  heard  it  more  plainly,  but 
then  they  were  near  home.  Wlien  they  reached  the  lodge,  the  animate 
skin  was  so  near  it  almost  caught  them.  A\'lien  they  jumped  thi-ougli 
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.  Chipmunks  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  iSN.  32 

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.  ""WHiat  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  hei'self,  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. 


S'ew'S]  fiction  113 

15.  Gaqga  (tiik  Chow)  Makes  a  Journey  and  Kills  Many  People 

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

After  tiaxeliiig  a  long  time,  he  saw  smoke  through  the  forest,  and 
appi'oaching  it,  he  fouml  four  huntei-s,  named  Djodjogis.-"  Being 
afraid  to  go  near  them,  he  hid  in  the  thickets  and  watched  them.  The 
ne.xt  morning,  after  they  had  departed  to  himt.  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  Djoiiiaik-'  people.  Ga(|ga  ate  the  youngest  child  first  and  then 
he  ate  the  other  foiu"  in  the  meanwhile  the  father  and  tlie  mother 
strove  to  drive  him  away,  hut  they  could  not.  Then,  leaving  old 
Djofuaik  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 
peojde,  he  ran  off.  hut  they  ran  after  him  and  beat  him  on  the  head 
until  they  had  driven  him  far  awa\'.  Then  the  man  said,  "Is  it  not 
a  shame  tiuit  such  little  fellows  should  beat  me,"  but  he  dared  not  go 
back. 

Now  lie  roamed  over  ail  tlie  forest,  but  he  could  not  find  liis  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  tlien  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.  I)isai)pointed  by  this  failure,  he  walked  on; 
toward  night  he  saw  a  camp,  and.  creeping  near  it.  he  again  saw 
the  four  hunters.  He  li.stened  to  what  they  were  saying.  One  said. 
"I  wonder  who  stole  our  meat  tliat  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  wisli  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  said, 
"  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. 

AA^hen  Gaqga  awoke  he  was  very  hungr\\  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  ne.xt 
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,  "  AVhat  do  you  want?  "  "I  do  not 
want  anything,"  said  Gaqga;  "I  have  just  come  to  be  company  for 
you."  "  I  do  not  want  your  company,"  said  Hanisheonon.  Gaqga 
was  frightened.  Both  ."^tood  still.  Suddenly  Hanisheonon  sprang  at 
Gaqga  and  caught  him,  but  Gaqga  screamed  so  loudly  that  all  his 
people  who  had  run  away  from  Hanisheonon  heard  the  call  and  came 
to  his  aid.  They  tlew  at  Hanisheonon  and  pecked  him  until  he  was 
dead. 


'i^^^l^i]  FICTION  115 

1().  OiiiiiiwA  (tiik  Owi.)  and  the  Two  Sisters 

Two  sisters  of  a  tribe  li\ed  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  deei'  droppings  to  put  into  the  liominy 
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  oi'  fish. 

One  day  one  of  the  sisters  asked  her  nujther  to  Jet  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  shoidd  many  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  recjuired." 

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  young  man 
is  very  strong  in  magic — is  possessed  of  jxitent  orenda,  and  so  he  has 
many  wild  deer  around  his  lodge.  You  nmst  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  stum])s  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  tlie  ciiief's  son,"  they  replied.  "  ^^  ell,  what  is 
his  appearance?  "  was  his  next  question.  "  Our  mother  said  that  lie 
had  a  hooked  n<>se,''  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  tiiem  that  he  had  to  get  his  deer 
liemls,  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  the\'  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  [eth.  ann.  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."  When  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  wei'e  lying  there  asleep.  Then,  takijig  their  basket,  which 
still  contained  some  bread,  they  went  outside  the  lodge  to  watch. 
When  the  old  man  returneil  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  Jjeen  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.  Theii  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."  \Vhen  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 


"i^l^r]  FICTION  117 

the  old  man  became  the  chief.  He  sai<l  that  some  one  must  marry 
the  girl  wives  of  the  dead  chief;  so  lie  calKHJ  all  tiie  youn<r  men  t(»- 
^ether,  hut  before  tliey  could  speak  their  niinils  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  answei-  him. 
Then  he  closed  the  conference  by  saying.  "  I  nnist  marry  them  my- 
self." Hilt  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  Snakk  Battle 

In  old  times  some  Indians  hail  a  great  battle  with  snakes,  and  this 
is  how  it  hapi^ened. 

A  certain  man  near  thj  village  of  the  Indians  was  hunting  one 
(lav.  He  found  a  rattlesnake,  which  he  mercilesslv  tormented.  lie 
tied  a  piece  of  bark  around  its  body  and  pas.sed  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  ])eople.  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  numlier  of  all  kinds  of 
snakes  going  in  one  direction.  Li.stening  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  peojile  what  he 
had  seen  and  heard.  The  chief  sent  a  number  of  men  to  the  place, 
and  as  far  as  they  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  tliis  they  cut  great  piles  of  wood  and  drove  stakes  close  together 
ill  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,  aijd  many  of  them  were  burned  to  death.  So 
many  ru.shed  into  the  fire  that  they  put  it  out.  The  live  snakes 
cliBibed  over  the  dead  ones,  and  in  sjiite  of  the  resistance  of  the 
men.  who  were  trying  in  every  way  to  kill  thefn,  they  reached  the 
second  row  of  stakes.  Here  again  many  were  killed,  hut  still  the 
living  climbed  over  the  dead  above  tlie  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.  anx.  32 

was  Djisdaah.  the  man  who  had  challenged  them,  and  then  the  snakes 
made  for  the  village,  and  the  men  stood  and  fought.  Finally  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  (Tire  Cannib.'Vl)  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  Inmt  men  and  eat 
them.  Neither  of  us  will  ever  marry  or  bring  a  woman  to  the  lodge ; 
if  I  marrv,  .vou  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  younger  brother's  room.  The  elder  lu'other  tracked  her  to  the 
lodge,  caught  her  at  the  door,  dragged  her  into  his  room,  and  killed 
and  ate  her.  AVhen  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  ne.xt  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. 


^■^^w"?-!^]  FICTION  119 

The  next  time  the  elder  brother  ran  to  the  door  and  knocked  hur- 
liedly,  calling;  out.  "Give  nie  a  couple  of  arrows;  there  is  a  bear  out 
here,"  the  woman  sat  by  tlie  fire,  but  did  not  move.  Again  lie 
called,  "  Huriy !  (iive  me  the  arrows — the  bear  will  be  gone."  The 
woman  did  not  stir,  but  sat  quietly  by  the  fire.  -Vfter  a  while  the 
elder  l)rotliei'  went  into  his  pnvt  of  the  lodge.  When  the  younger 
brother  came  home  the  woman  told  him  what  had  happened.  While 
they  were  whispering  the  elder  brother  called  out:  "Well,  brotlier. 
you  are  whispering  to  some  one.  Who  is  it?  Have  you  a  woman 
here?"  "Oh,"  answered  the  younger,  "I  am  covmting  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  diflicult  for  you  to  do  so,  for  he  will  make 
himself  just  lilve  me  in  foiMu  and  voice,  but  you  must  strike  him  if 
you  can."  The  woman  tied  to  his  hair  a  small  sqtiash  shell  so  as  to 
be  able  to  distinguish  him  from  his  elder  brother.  The  latter  again 
called  out,  '"  Vou  have  a  wonum;  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  e.xactly  like  the  younger  and  i-epeated  his  words.  AVhen- 
ever  the  younger  cried,  "  Strike  him  I  "  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 
i  in  it  her. 

They  gathered  a  great  pile  of  wood  and,  laying  the  body  on  the 
pile,  set  fire  to  the  wood  and  Inirned  uj)  the  flesh.  AVhen  the  tlesh 
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 
Moman  and,  connng  to  the  ground,  ran  with  great  speed  and  soon 
found  where  the  arrow  had  struck.  The  cat-tail  flag  had  burst  o[)eii 
and  the  woman  was  gone.  He  soon  overtook  her  and  they  traveled 
on  together.  He  told  her  she  must  make  all  speed,  for  tiie  gho.st  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 lie  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  <listance  away.     "Go  quickU'    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  tha^  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  opening; 
he  ran  all  day,  but  the  ridge  was  everywhere.  He  cried  in  anger,  "  I 
hn\e  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 


Xv'^O  FICTION  121 

said :  "  I  will  stop  as  long  as  I  can  tlie  man  who  is  chasing  you.  Vou 
have  an  aunt  who  livi-s  west  of  here,  by  the  roadside.  The  path 
passes  between  two  leilges  of  rock  which  move  backward  and  forward 
so  quickly  that  whoever  tries  to  pass  between  is  crushed,  but  if  you 
beg  of  iier  to  stoj)  them  for  a  moment  she  will  do  so  and  will  give 
you  information."  Tliey  huriied  on  until  they  came  to  the  woman, 
their  aunt,  and  prayed  her  to  let  them  pa.ss.  She  stopped  the  rocks 
long  enough  for  them  to  spring  through,  saying:  "Your  patii  is 
througii  a  river,  on  tlie  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  wliole  army  of  S"hagodiyoweqgowa,  but  they  will  not  harm  you. 
A  little  d(;g  wagging  his  tail  will  run  to  meet  you.  Follow  him  and 
he  will  lead  you  to  an  opening  in  which  is  your  motiier's  lodge.  The 
dog  will  entei' — follow  him." 

When  the  elder  brother  came  to  the  old  man  wlio  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.  Wlien  he  did  that  the  old  man  thi-ew 
the  net  over  him  and  he  became  entangled  and  fell.  After  struggling 
to  get  out  for  a  long  time,  he  tore  himself  fri^e  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  witii  s|)ittlc  and  was  cured.  Then  he  hurried 
on  in  still  greater  fury.  A\'hen  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  hanuuering  of  turtle-shell  rattles  by  8'iiagodiyowe(i- 
giiwa,  keeping  time  with  them  while  dancing.  These  S'hagodiyowe(|- 
gowa,  turning  ujjon  him  immediately,  hanuaeied  all  the  liesh  off  of 
him:  they  then  hammered  all  his  bones  until  there  was  not  a  trace 
of  him  left.  When  the  mother  saw  her  son  and  his  wife  -she  was 
very  liai)py,  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.  Haikndonnis  and  Yenogeauns' 

One  day  Haiefidounis.  carrying  all  his  small  effects,  was  walking 
along  through  the  forest.  It  seems  that  he  did  not  know  where  he 
came  from,  nor  did  he  J<now  to  what  particular  place  he  was  going, 
although  he  well  knew  that  he  was  going  in  a  northerlj-  direction. 
Whei'ever  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   I/ong  To<jth. 


122  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etii.  AXN.  32 

One  morning  he  came  to  a  steep  precipice ;  here  he  began  to  wonder 
how  lie  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  tree,  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  ?  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  liark  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  delayed  by  not  loiowing 
that  the  ground  was  at  the  end  of  the  sti'and  of  basswood  bark."  So 
saying  he  arose  and  went  on. 

When  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  moi-ning  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  doorwav."  The 
wish  thus  exj^ressed  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 


ill^l^i]  FICTION  123 

he  was  abie  to  Icill  iiiuch  nfiniic  in  a  day.  AMicn  he  returned  to  his 
small  (•al)in  he  did  not  carry  the  paine,  i)iit  would  stand  at  the  door 
and  say.  ''Let  the  ijaiue  whieh  1  lune  killed  be  piled  up  beside  my 
doorway."  AV'hen  this  was  done  he  would  say.  "  Let  the  skins  come 
off  and  the  meat  be  (|uartere(l,  put  up  to  diy,  and  be  smoked."  Then 
he  would  enter  nis  cabin,  paying  no  furthei-  attention  to  tiie  jjame. 
In  the  morning  he  would  find  the  meat  hanging  up  to  dry  and  a  large 
heap  of  skins  lying  at  his  door.  He  would  tlien  si)end  the  day  in  tan- 
ning tlie  skins. 

One  day  while  he  was  out  hunting  he  .saw  Gaasyendiet'ha,^^  where- 
upon he  ])ointed  his  finger  at  him  and  (laasyendiefha  at  once  fell 
dead.  Haiendonnis  loolv  off  his  skin  for  a  pouch.  Going  some  dis- 
tance farther,  he  beheld  a  parillier.  On  pointing  his  finger  at  it.  the 
panther  fell  dead  and  he  tlien  skiiuied  it.  In  like  manner  he  killed 
and  skinned  a  fo.\.  \A'ith  these  three  skins  he  was  enabletl  to  make 
three  pouches,  which,  on  his  arrival  at  liis  home,  he  Inuig  on  (lie  wall 
of  his  cabin. 

After  a  while  the  tliought  came  to  him.  "  \\\\At  shall  1  do  with 
those  three  pouches?"  Then  lie  took  down  the  pouch  made  of  the 
skill  of  (iaasyendiet'ha  and  conunancled  it.  saying.  "  StaiuJ  ui)iight 
here."  Instantly  (iaasyendieliia  stood  there  before  him  ali\e.  Then 
Haiendonnis  made  the  otliei-  two  pouches  come  to  life  in  the  same 
manner,  and  tlieie  they  stood  inside  his  cabin.  Meanwhile  the  rumor 
spread  that  llaiefidonnis  had  .settled  down  in  that  place  ami  that  he 
was  po.ssessed  of  potent  orenda,  or  mighty  magic  power,  and  that 
he  was  a  sorcerer  through  jjosse.ssion  of  this  mysterious  potency, 
which  worked  good  for  his  friends  and  evil  for  his  enemies. 

Not  far  from  the  cabin  of  the  mysterious  Haiendonnis  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  pountl  corn  foi' 
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  l)read.  Fill- 
ing a  basket  with  this,  she  said  to  her  eldest  daughter,  Deyondenni- 
gongenvons,^^  who  was  a  very  handsome  girl.  '"  I  want  you  to  go  to 
Ilaiendonnis's  lodge  to  learn  whether  he  will  marry  you  or  not." 
They  lived  one-half  day's  journey  from  Haiendonnis.  Willinglv 
obeying  her  mother,  the  girl  started  with  the  basket  of  coin  bread. 

llaiefidonnis  saw  the  woman  coming  with  a  basket  on  her  back, 
and  he  exclaimed  :  '"  Hoho  I  There  is  a  woman  coining.  I  think 
that  she  is  coming  to  see  me.  I  do  wonder  if  indeed  she  desires  to 
marry  me."    Then,  addressing  the  pouch,  (laasyendiet'lm,  he  said  :  "  I 


124  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  S2 

want  A'oii  to  go  j'onder  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  Haieiidoiinis  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  Hed.  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. 
Haieiidoiinis  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  pounded 
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  Haieiidoiinis  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. 

Haiefidonnis  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  Gaasyendiefha,  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  rulibing  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,  Haien- 
dofinis  laughed  at  her,  too. 

Haieiidoiinis  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 
knew  what  had  happened  to  her  daughters  who  had  made  the  journey 
to  the  lodge  of  Haiefidofinis.  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, 
Yenongiia :  "  You  make  the  attempt  this  time.  Do  not  notice  any- 
thing or  fear  anything,  but  go  directly  to  the  lodge  of  Haieiidoiinis." 
The  dutiful  daughter  replied  with  some  inward  misgivings :  "  It  is 
well.     I  will  try."  and.  taking  up  the  basket  of  bread,  she  started. 

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


^^KW^]  FICTION  125 

come  lieie  with  it  and  then  iiin  ot}',  scattering  it  along  the  path  as 
they  flee.  Now  this  one  is  coniin<i  with  a  hasketful  on  hei-  hack,  and 
I  suppose  that  she  will  run  off,  dropping  it  along  the  way  l)ehind 
her."  He  watched  her  come  up  to  Gaasj'endiet'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  Gaasyeiidief  ha.  On  arriving  at  the  door  where  her  second 
sister  had  thought  she  saw  a  man,  Yenongiia  went  \i\)  to  Fox  and 
struck  him  a  blow  with  her  hand;  down  he  fell,  for  lie.  too.  was 
nothing  hut  a  ]3ouch  of  fox  skin,  the  tail  of  which  the  wind  had  i)een 
brusiiing  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  llaifudofinis  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  Ilaiendofinisr'  Keceiving  no  answer,  she  repeated 
her  question,  and  then  Haieiidofinis  replied  in  an  old  man's  accents. 
"It  seems  to  me  that  I  heai'  a  woman's  voice."  So  she  called  in  a 
louder  tone.  Then  he  looked  u]>,  saying,  "I  do  not  think  that  he  is 
at  home,  or  that  lie  will  return  l)efore  the  end  of  ten  days."  The  un- 
abashed young  woman  replied.  "  It  is  well.  Then  I  will  come  in  ten 
days."  and  started  for  home. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days  the  youngest  daughter  again  set  out  for  the 
lodge  of  Ilaiendonnis.  When  she  drew  near  he  saw  her.  and  said  to 
himself,  "  Now  I  shall  change  my.self  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  diiectly  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  Ilaiendonnis?  "  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  lie  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  Haiendoiinis  saw  her  coming  again,  and  re- 
solved to  make  himself  in\  isibl(>  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  Haiefidonnis.  The  situation  was  so 
amusing  that  Ilaiendonnis  laughed  out  loud,  and  the  young  woman, 
becoming  frightened,  arose  and  fled  home,  where  she  arrived  quite 
ashamed  of  her.self,  for  she  had  left  her  basket  of  corn  bread.  Her 
mother  asked,  "  Where  is  the  basket  of  corn  bread  i  "  but  she  made 


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

no  rcpl.y,  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  Haiefidofinis  were  clinging  to  her  daughter. 
Tiie  old  woman  to^ik  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  Haieiidonnis  saw 
her  he  laughed,  saying,  "I  think  that  all  the  intestines  will  go  this 
time."  On  entering  the  lodge  she  saw  Haieiidonnis  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  Yenongiia  said  to  her  husband  that  she  desired 
to  visit  her  mother.  Haieiidoiinis  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, 
Haieiidonnis  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  Haiehdoiinis  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  j'ou,"  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  Haiendonnis  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  willingly  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 


^,1^,^!^]  FICTION  127 

horned  owl,  a  'common  owl,  and  a  screech  owl  to  the  upper  limbs  of 
a  tree  standinj^  near  tlie  scene.    These  were  owls  in  human  form. 

Thus  were  the  three  women  utterly  destroyed.  Then  Haiefidonnis 
said  to  his  wife,  "  Let  us  go  home  now."  But  she  stood  there  looking 
in  one  direction;  slie  seemed  spelll>ound.  At  last  her  husband  took 
lier  bj-  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  sorcery  and 
encliantment,  who  dwelt  e\  en  to  the  very  edge  of  the  world,  knew  tlie 
exact  moment  Haiefidonnis  had  killed  the  old  woman  and  her  wicked 
daugliters,  for  at  that  moment  a  great  shout  of  joy  went  up  from 
the  peopk',  which  was  heard  all  over  the  world;  tiiey  rejoiced  because 
these  women  so  powerful  in  magic  and  so  utterly  wicked  were  dead 
and  burned  up. 

Xow,  Haiefidonnis,  putting  spittle  on  liis  hands,  rubbed  with  up- 
posing  orenda,  or  magic  power,  the  head  of  Yenongiia,^^  his  wife. 
He  gently  pulled  and  smootlied  her  hair,  which  had  been  short  before 
tliat  time,  and  it  soon  became  long  and  glossy.  He  had  neutralized 
her  orenda  througii  tliis  manipulation.  Thereafter  they  dwelt  in  the 
lodge  of  Haiendonnis  in  great  contentment. 

20.  The  M.\n  wrrii  iiik  Paniiihij-skin  Kobe  and  llis  BnoTiiEit  with 
A  Tukkev-skix  Kobe 

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

One  day  tlie  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  tliat  ?"  queried 
tlie  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  liis  hunting 
a  beautiful  white  wild  (iii'kcy  goliljler  and  his  nephews  were deliglited 
to  see  it.  Then  tlie  elder  nephew  skinned  the  fine  bird,  leaving  the 
head,  legs,  wings,  and  tail  attached  to  the  skin.  He  rubbed  and  care- 
fully pi-epared  in  the  usual  manner  the  skin  with  the  fcatliers  in 
place,  and  when  it  had  been  tlioroughly  cured  and  tanned  with  smoke 
he  placed  the  turkej'-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.  becau.se 
the  little  boy  was  just  the  size  of  a  turkey  gobbler,  and  now  he  looked 


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

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  j^ou  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."  No  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  this  character." 

Then  the  uncle  brought  forth  k  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  enougli." 
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, 
Mith  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 


^uT^l^]  FICTION  129 

which  represented  a  bullfrog  mid  the  stem  a  water  snake;  when 
this  pipe  was  smoked  tlie  bulifroii  wouhl  croak  and  the  snake  woidd 
wriggle  and  try  to  swallow  the  frog.  Lastly  the  uncle  gave  his 
nephew  a  fine  how  and  a  (luivor  full  of  arrows,  and  a  war  club. 

Then,  addressing  his  nephew,  the  uncle  said  :  "  Now,  m\'  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  j)eople  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  mn.st  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  brotheis  started  on  their  long  jouiney  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  tliis  sjii-ing,  foi-  it  is  dangerous  to  do  so."'  As  they  w-ere  pass- 
ing on,  the  elder  brotiier,  hxjking  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  cauglit  him  by  the  hair  and 
pulled  him  into  the  watei'.  (Jripping  the  creature, lie  succeeded  after 
a  long  struggle  in  drawing  it  upon  the  bank.  It  was  a  strange 
creatui'e  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  replie<l.  lie 
stooped  the  second  time  to  drink,  w-lien  another  creature  seized  him, 
but  this  also  he  pulled  out  of  the  water.  It,  too,  gasped,  "Oh, 
grandson,  throw  me  back  into  the  water!  "  AVithout  making  a  reply 
he  stooped  a  third  time  to  drink  and  was  then  undisturlied.  The 
water  was  very  sweet  and  wholesome.  When  he  had  drunk  his  fill 
lie  killed  the  two  creatures.  Then  with  the  Turkey  Hrotlier"s  help  he 
collected  a  great  pile  of  dry  wood  on  which  they  placed  the  two 
creatures  and  soon  burned  them  to  ashes.  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  gi-cat  haste,  shouting:  "Oh,  grandson,  shoot 
it !  Look  here !  Such  a  fine  raccoon  !  Oh,  sh(K)t  it  for  me !  Just  one 
arrow  you  need  spare  me."  He  begged  so  urgently  that  the  elder 
0-1615°— IS a 


130  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  Teth.  ans.32 

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 
raccoon;  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  j'oung  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,  wliich  slipped  its  tail  down  into  the 
hollow  in  the  trunk  until  the  young  man  was  able  to  seize  it;  then 


CURTiy 


,J  FICTION  131 


the  snake  coiled  itself  up,  bringing  the  young  man  to  the  toj)  in 
safety:  thereupon  the  great  BlacksnaUe  disai)peare(]. 

The  Turkey  Brother  greatly  rejoiced  to  see  his  brother  and,  Hying 
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 
on.  I  will  put  on  the  old  man's  clothes."  So  he  arrayed  himself  in 
the  old  man's  worn-out  garments — his  shabby  robe,  still  leggings,  old 
moccasins,  and  filthy  headdress.  He  now  looked  like  the  old  man, 
having  a  weak  voice  and  a  terrifying  cough. 

Meanwliile  the  old  man  felt  grand  in  the  stolen  j^anther-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  opposite  side,  and  the  old  man  shouted  acro.ss  to  him  to 
be  ferried  over.  The  chief's  eldest  daugliter  rowed  across  in  a  canoe 
and,  seeing  the  fine-looking  man  wearing  the  i)anther-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 
truth  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  tine  furs  and  skins,  saying,  "This  is 
your  i)lace  for  repose."  He  sat  there  (piietly  until  his  wife  came  to 
him. 

The  next  evening  the  elder  brotiier  and  the  Tuikey  Brother  ap- 
peared on  the  opposite  side  of  the  rixcr.  The  foimer  attempted  to 
shout,  but  his  voice  was  so  weak  ami  ihin  that  for  a  long  time  he 
could  not  make  himself  heard.  At  last,  some  one  outside  of  the 
lodge  said,  "There  ai-e  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  ajjpearance.  whence 
he  came  and  who  he  was.  "I  came  from  the  east,"  he  replied,  "and 
I  am  on  mj'  way  to  the  chief's  lodge.  I  want  to  get  married,  and 
so  I  am  looking  for  a  wife."  "Looking  for  a  wife?  AVhy,  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  mj'  brother  who  is 
a  little  boy  yet."  "You  come  from  the  east,  you  say;  do  you  come 
from  beyond  the  sorcerer's  s]iring?  "  she  asked.  "  I  am  from  beyond 
that  spring,"  he  replied.  "Did  you  pass  the  spring?  "  she  persisted. 
"Yes,  T  did;  and  1  cleared  it  of  its  monstrous  denizens,"  declared 
the  eider  brother.     "  Did  you  come  past  the  little  old  uum   who 


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  okl  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  couch."  and  they  placed  the  Turkey  Brother  up  there. 

That  night  the  old  thief  opened  the  fisher-skin  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  with  her  husband,  but  with  a  knowing  look  he 
would  say,  "  Oh !  she  knows  what  she  is  doing:  so  let  her  alone." 

For  a  number  of  daA's  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,  becau.se  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  knew  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,  "  Run  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  offensive  odor.  He  tlien  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.  Run  to  the  creek  with  it,  and  thoroughly  wash  and  scrape  the 
))owl;  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  Ijowl  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, 


CDRTI 
HEWITT 


^]  •  FICTION  133 


saying:  "Oh!  lie  is  a  man.  I  tliought  that  there  was  something 
great  in  him,  for  he  conies  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  witii  it  to  her 
father,  but  went  (juickly  to  the  creek,  where  she  spent  an  entire  day 
in  thoroughly  cleansing  it. 

At  this  time  a  AVildcat  and  a  Fo.x  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  Lis  legs  and  (lurr, 
and  talk  to  him.  It  was  not  long  before  tiie  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  A\'il(lcat,  as  the  Turkey  Brother's  bed  was  near  the 
file,  crawled  down  the  smoke-hole  to  a  point  from  which  it  could 
reach  him.  But  the  Turkey  Brother,  sitting  with  his  eyes  o])en.  saw 
the  Wildcat,  and,  waiting  until  it  got  within  reach,  struck  it  on  the 
head  with  a  clul)  whicli  lie  kept  and  tumbled  it  into  the  fire,  in  which 
the  AA'ildcat  rolled  about  a  number  of  times,  with  the  result  that  it 
got  a  singed  coat.  It  got  out  of  the  fire  and  began  to  ciy,  "Oh!  I 
have  fits."  "  You  can  not  have  fits  here,"  cried  the  eldest  sister,  jump- 
ing out  of  her  lied  and  kicking  it  out  of  doors.  "  That  is  not  a  tur- 
key," said  the  A\'ildcat  to  the  Fox,  "  it  is  a  wizard." 

At  this  time  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  chief  said  to  her  hus- 
band, "Why  tlo  you  not  taice  your  enchanted  articles  of  dress  from 
that  old  thief r"  Her  husband  replied:  "T  shall  do  so  when  the 
proper  time  comes.  15ut  in  the  meantime,  will  you  ask  your  father 
for  his  bow  and  airows,  foi-  I  much  wish  to  go  on  a  hunting  trip?" 
So  she  went  to  her  father  with  lier  husband's  retpiest,  and  her  father 
willingly  gave  his  permission  for  the  use  of  his  bow  and  arrows, 
saying,  "  Yes;  he  shall  have  thorn  if  he  needs  them,"  and  his  daughter 
carried  them  back  to  hei-  husiiand. 

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  e\er  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  di'agged  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  ))i-owoss  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.  I'^very- 
one  else  was  up  at  the  break  of  day.  but  the  eldest  daughter  of  the 
chief  and  her  husband  slept  soundly.     AMiile  they  were  asleep  the 


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

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  woman,  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 !  "  ^Vhen  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 
Avily  old  owl  at  once  disappeared  and  was  never  seen  in  that  place 
again. 

When  the  hu.sband  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- 
frog croaked,  the  blacksnake  wriggled  and  tried  to  swallow  the  bull- 
frog. All  the  people  looked  on  in  wonder,  and  they  said,  "  We  have 
iicver  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 
bi'other  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  years  on  the  way.  They 
could  not  travel  with  the  speed  of  men  possessed  of  powerful  orenda. 
The}'  were  welcomed  with  joy  on  their  arrival  in  the  countrj'  of 


CUUTI 
HEWITT 


^]  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  (Tiie.Eartii-Girdlek)  anu  the  Old  Woman's 

Grandson 

An  olil  woman  and  iu>r  <2;ran(lsi)n  lived  together  in  a  lo<l<:;('  in  a 
large  forest.  '1  Ih'v  were  bcitli  t'eelde  and  poor,  for  tiu-  old  woman 
had  no  able-bodied  pei'son  to  help  her  and  her  <rrandson  was  still  a 
very  small  boy.  The  old  woman  cried  much  of  tlio  time,  therefore,  on 
account  of  their  needy  conilition.  Every  day,  however,  she  went  into 
the  forest  to  pather  firewood.  Slie  felled  trees  by  burning,  and 
when  they  were  on  the  <zround  she  buined  them  into  pieces  of  such 
length  that  she  would  be  al)le  to  carry  them  to  lier  lodge ;  but  whether 
she  was  going  or  coming  fi'om  the  forest  she  we|)t  without  ceasing. 

At  last  her  little  grandson  said  to  her.  "(Irandinother,  why  do  you 
cry  all  the  time,  both  niglit  and  day?  Tell  me,  will  you?  "  In  reply 
she  said,  "1  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  nnich  to  touch  the  various  articles,  but  his  grand- 
mother told  him  that  he  must  not  lemain  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  an<l  beat  the  dimn.  whose  sound  was  so 
pleasing  that  he  Mas  deliglited.  Taking  a  ball  and  a  lacrosse  club 
he  went  out  of  doors  and  began  to  play  ball — that  is,  hicrosse.  lie 
threw  the  ball  with  the  club  and  it  flew  ftir  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  grandmothei-  Jiad 
returned  with  the  wood  to  the  lodge. 

On  the  following  day.  while  his  grandmother  was  ab.sent  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.  lie  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,  '"  A^'hy  did  you  go  into  that  room  when  I  told 
you  not  to  go  theie  nor  to  touch  any  of  the  things?  "  "  Oh,  grand- 
mother," he  replied,  "do  not  talk  about  that.  l)ut  tell  me  where  are 
all  our  friends — my  father  and  mother,  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
my  cousins?"     Tlie  grandmother  said  de[)re(aungly :  "Oh.  you  can 


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

never  see  them.  There  is  a  man  dwelling  far  away  in  the  east  who 
carries  off  people  and  devours  them.  His  name  is  Deadoendjadases, 
and  it  is  he  who  has  eaten  all  our  friends  and  relations."  The  lad 
with  impatience  replied:  "INlake  me  four  pairs  of  moccasins.  1  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  person  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  witliin  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  undergi-ound  until  he  came  to  the  spot  above 
which  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 
Deadoendjadases.  He  goes  around  the  world  every  day,  seizing  and 
killing  people,  whose  bodies  he  brings  home  to  e^it.  Living  in  the 
lodge  with  him  are  three  sisters,  who  are  all  great  witches.  Ever}' 
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  Deadoendjadases  and  liis  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  j'ou  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  j'ou 


CUBTIN 
HEWITT 


j^]  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  j^ou  nuist  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  Iladjoqda,  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,  assuming  the  e.xact  form  and  manner  of 
Deadoeiidjadases,  he  walked  through  the  clearing  toward  the  lodge, 
spitting  blood. 

Wiien  he  entered  the  lodge  none  of  tlie  sisters  except  the  youngest 
suspected  any  deceit.  Siie  looked  at  him  sharply,  saying,  "This  is 
not  our  brother."  Then  they  tried  him  with  diiferent  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  (hat 
there  was  no  deception. 

Wiiile  he  was  eating,  tiie  alarm  came  that  tiie  elks  were  in  the 
strawberry  patch,  and  the  three  siste7-s,  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  tlie 
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. 

Kesuming  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  drew  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  Deadoefidjadases  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  tortured  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.  Deadoeiidjadases  sat  down  and  began  to  eat.  Emboldened 
by  the  fact  that  the  lad  stood  beside  him  holding  the  heart  of 
Deadoeiidjadases,  Hadjoqda  taunted  Deadoeiidjadases,  "  the  Earth- 
circler."  ^° 

At  once  Deadoendjadases  rushed  after  the  lad,  who  ran  toward 
the  great  rock.  When  the  man-eater  drew  near  him  the  lad  woidd 
squeeze  the  heart  and  the  great  Deadoeiidjadases  would  fall  in  a 
faint.  When  the  lad  ceased  squeezing  the  heai't  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- 
doeiidjadases fell  dead  in  his  tracks. 

Around  the  great  rock  on  every  hand  the  lad  found  heaps  of  human 
bones,  which  he  carefully  gathei'ed  together  into  a  gi'eat  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,  "  thei'e  is  no  other  such  straw- 
berry patch  in  the  w^orld.  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  Deadoendjadases.  AVith 
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  blie  Quail] ;  the  youth  and  his  grand- 
liiotlier.  and  even  Hadjo(]da,  belonged  to  the  Osoon  tribe. 


^•ifJS]  FICTION  139 

22.  Hat'hondas  (the  Listener)" 

Once  upon  a  time  an  \mcle  and  his  nepliew  lived  to_^ethcr  in  the 
forest.  Being  very  needy,  the^^  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  yon  liear  something  you  must  hurrv  back  to  tell 
me  what  it  is." 

The  nephew  did  as  he  was  ordered.  The  next  morning  as  soon  as 
he  lieard  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  uncle.  He  went  the  next 
day.  and  heard  a  bird  of  some  other  kind.  After  rushing  to  tlie  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  bird  and  told  iiis 
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] 
(o  marry  Dooehdanegen."  *^  The  women  were  moving  through  the 
air  coming  toward  his  uncle's  lodge.  Ilafhondas  rushed  home  almost 
breathless,  crying.  " Oh,  uncle !  I  have  heard  it."  "  Well,  what  is  it?" 
asked  the  uncle,  and  straightway  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  the  smok'e 
arose  from  it.  "  I  heard  two  women  singing,  '  I  am  going  to  marry 
Dooehdanegen,'  and  they  are  coming  this  way,"  declared  the 
nej)hew-.  "We  mu.st  make  ready  to  receive  them."  said  tJie  uncle; 
"  we  must  put  the  lodge  in  order."  lie  therefore  smoothed  tiie  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 
we!'e  in  the  lodge,  and  to  face  the  other  way,  and  further  to  keep 
<|uiet  and  not  to  show  his  face.  The  old  man  then  put  on  his  liest 
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  [bth.  ann.  32 

them  there  was  the  phice  for  them  to  lie  down ;  but,  going  over  to  the 
corner  where  the  ashes  were  piled,  they  lay  down  with  Hat'hondas. 
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  l)is  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  oi-enda 
(magic  power),  fitted  tlie  young  man  well.  Then  the  uncle  took  the 
garments  off  his  nephew;  and  the  cap  became  a  live  otter,  tlie  robe, 
or  mantle,  a  live  panther,  the  leggings  a  pair  of  live  wildcats,  and 
the  moccasins  two  bve  owls.  Again  he  put  the  garments  on  his 
nephew,  telling  Jiim  to  sit  down.  The  latter  did  so  and,  opening  the 
pouch,  took  out  a  pipe,  which  he  filled  with  tobacco.  Immediately 
two  girl  sprites  and  two  trick  pigeons  leaped  out  of  the  pouch;  the 
girls  brought  fire  to  liglit  the  pipe,  and  as  soon  as  he  put  it  to  his 
mouth  the  two  pigeons,  which  were  perched  on  the  stem,  rustled  tlieir 
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.  "  Thot  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  you  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  comi>any.  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 


CUBTI 

iiEwn 


J^]  FICTION  141 


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

The  third  evening  he  came  on  a  man  who  insisted  and  coaxed  so 
nuu'h  that  he  remained  with  him  overnight.  Each  occupied  one  side 
of  the  lire.  After  suppei',  Ilat'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  [lanther  until  the  animal  was 
pacified,  when  he  put  the  mantle  on  his  own  shoulders.  So  with  the 
leixi-'ings  and  all  the  othei-  things,  until  at  last  he  got  pos.'-ession  of  the 
whole  out  lit  of  the  young  man,  exce|)t  the  bow  and  arrows,  which  he 
forgot.  ^\'hcn  ready,  he  thrust  a  sharp  dart  of  hickor}-  bark  down 
the  backbone  of  Ilafhondas.  and  at  daylight  hurried  away  to  the 
comjjany  which  had  g;ithei-ed  at  the  great  woman's  lodge  to  shoot  at 
the  eagle.    . 

llat'liondas  awoke  in  terrible  pain;  he  was  doubled  up  like  an  old 
man  and  began  to  cough  badly.  .Vfter  much  effort  and  great  sulTer- 
ing,  he  succeeded  in  ))ntling  on  the  other  man's  garments  and  in 
draiiging  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  ])oor.  destitute- 
looking  girl  came  to  him.  saying:  "My  mother  lives  not  far  from 
here.  1  will  take  you  to  her."  On  going  home  with  the  girl  he 
learned  that  her  mothei-  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 
everj'thing  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.  Hal'hondas  drew  his  bow  with  great  dilliculty 
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  ])ro- 
vision  enough.  Many  days  later  his  si.stor  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 
soimds  made  by  those  who  had  as.sembled  to  shoot  the  eagle,  and 


142  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32- 

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  waj',  and  going  outside  of  the  lodge  with  his 
bow  and  arrow,  he  said  to  his  sister's  daughter:  "Go  out  into  the 
crowd.  '\Anien  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.  When  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  j^romise  must  be 
kept,  and  had  the  marriage  proclaimed. 

When,  in  the  evening,  the  young  wife  would  not  remove  her  desig- 
nated husband's  clothing,  the  old  woman  did  so.  On  taking  off  the 
moccasins,  and  throwing  thi.'m,  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  iianther,  the 
wildcats,  and  the  otter;  the}'  seemed  scarcely  alive. 

The  young  woman  would  not  go  near  her  designated  husband,  but, 
rolling  herself  up  in  a  beai-skin,  slept  apart.  The  next  morning  the 
mother-in-law,  addressing  hei-  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  angiy,  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  we^^t,  saying,  "  Oh !  nephew,  I  shall  mourn  for  you 
ten  summers."  But  now  the  sky  was  not  so  red,  and  the  old  man 
knew  that  his  nephew  had  gained  some  relief. 

The  second  night  the  young  woman  slej^t  apart  from  her  designated 
husband. 


cu 

HEW 


tw.'^]  FICTION  143 


The  next  day  Ilat'hondas's  niece,  the  poor  woman's  duuijhter,  said. 
"  I  will  visit  the  great  witch  woman,  for  she  is  a  friend  of  mine." 
AVTien  the  girl  went  to  the  lodge,  the  great  woman  was  glad  to  see  her. 
She  heard  all  the  news  of  the  mairiage  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,  Ilat'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  hark 
into  tlie  hack  of  the  sleeping  husband,  hurried  home. 

Ilafiiondas  now  had  his  whole  outfit.  Putting  on  his  garments 
and  taking  his  bow  and  arrows  he  went  to  the  lodge  of  the  great 
witch  woman.  When  the  daughter  saw  him  coming,  she  could 
scarcely  retain  her.self  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  terribh'. 

As  the  arrow  which  was  still  sticking  in  the  eagle  was  unlike  his 
arrows  but  just  like  tht)se  which  were  in  the  quiver  of  Ilat'hondas, 
the  people  were  convinced  that  the  old  man  was  a  deceiver,  so  they 
threw  him  out  witliout  pity. 

Ilatiiondas  was  now  married  to  the  young  woman  and  iier  mother 
proclaimed  (o  all  the  people,  "'My  youngest  daughter  is  now  mar- 
ried." In  the  evening,  when  the  young  wife  ])ullcd  olf  her  hus- 
band's moccasins  and  threw  them  on  the  crossbeam,  they  became  a 
pair  of  fine  owls  with  great  e3'es,  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.  ,\s  he 
opened  his  pouch  the  two  girls  jumped  out  of  it,  followed  bj'  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  moutii,  rustletl  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,  "  Xow,  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  pi-ocess  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  [eth.  ann.  32 

to  eat  venison  all  the}'  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-fiap  he  would  find  merely  a 
fox,  rabbit,  or  some  other  creature. 

Now,  to  make  sure,  he  cut  a  hole  in  the  skin  door-fiap  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  of  the  Oiiohwa  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  away  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  short  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  hu.sband  started  oft'  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 
tl>eir  lodge. 

In  the  morning  he  told  his  wife  that  he  had  had  a  dream  dui'ing 
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- 


CCUTI 
HEW 


^l^]  l-ICTION  1-15 


sibly  he  starter!  away  to  carry  out  this  injunction,  but  when  he  jjot 
out  of  sight  of  the  lodge  he  went  to  the  hxlgc  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?  "  Slie 
replied,  "Oh,  I  am  only  going  homo."  He  asked,  "Let  me  go  home 
with  you?"  Answering  co(]uettishly,  "All  right,  if  you  can  over- 
take me,"  oif  she  ran  with  great  sj^eed,  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.  I'ut  on  tlie  (luestion  being  i'e]ieated  by  the  intruder,  one 
of  the  men.  looking  up.  said.  "It  seonis  to  me  that  T  heard  some 
sound."  and  the  other  made  the  same  remark.  Then  he  who  spoke 
first  said.  "Then  get  our  canoe."  (loing  to  another  jiart  of  the  lodge, 
the  second  man  retuined  witli  a  bark  canoe  and  two  basswood  knives. 
"Now,"  said  the  other  old  man.  "seize  the  game  that  has  come  to 
our  lodge."  The  intruder  di'ow  back  as  the  old  man  ad\anccd.  cau- 
tioning the  old  men.  saying:  "  T^e  very  careful,  old  men.  You  are 
Nosgwais  ])eople.  as  T  Icnow.  T  came  only  to  ask  for  information." 
But  as  the  two  did  men  advanced  the  intruder  turned  and  fled.  The 
old  men  ciiased  hiiu  with  gi'cat  speed,  .\ftcr  a  wiiiie.  tui-niiig  and 
running  back  to  the  lodge,  he  seized  a  wooden  mallet  and  the  first 
man  that  ajipeared  at  the  doorway  he  knoclced  on  the  head,  and  he 
flid  likewise  to  the  second  man.  .\s  the  old  men  ])icked  themselves 
up  they  said,  "It  seems  that  thei-e  is  a  great  deal  of  fun  in  the  game 
animal  that  has  come  to  us."  On  tJicii-  making  aiidtlier  attcmiif  to 
enter  their  lodge  the  intruder  again  knocked  them  down.  There- 
upon one  of  the  old  men  said:  "(!et  i;]i  and  do  the  liest  you  can 
["magically].  .\re  we  to  be  beaten  in  tiiis  way?  It  wouhl  indeed 
be  a  singular  occun-ence  foi-  us  to  i)e  overmatched  by  the  game  ani- 
mal that  has  come  to  us."  But  in  making  a  third  attem])t  to  enter 
the  lodge  the  old  men  were  still  again  knock-ed  down.  But  the  in- 
truder said  to  hiu/self,  however.  "I  can  not  kill  these  peo])le.  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."  T?nt  these  tracks 
were  not  those  of  the  woman.  He  had  made  a  circuit  and  at  dayl)reak 
he  was  near  the  starting  point.  He  looked  down  and,  seeing  his  own 
94615°— 18 10 


146  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.  ann.  33 

tracks,  said:  "  Oli,  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  tliev  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  mc."  The  man  in  the 
canoe  replied,  "I  do  tliink  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  Imocking  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  off  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  tra\el.  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,  '■'Tgdiiehe  one"  ohraqdendi'  tie"  ak'Jionicd''\"  '\'inien  he 
finished  singing  "  Correctly  mj'  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.  Loolring 
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  anc\  wails  of  pain.  Placing  them  under  the  canoe, 
he  crushed  them,  and  their  cries  ceased.  Then  the  J'oung  man  lay 
down  and  slept. 

The  next  morning  he  awoke  and  said :  '  Xow  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  learned  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  lioard  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 


^<-^^-^]  FICTION  147 

aboard,  so  I  leaped.  You  are  afraid  this  canoe  will  carry  you  awaj'. 
1  am  the  peri^on  who  was  with  you  last  iii<;;ht.  It  is  my  fault  tiiat 
you  are  frightened,  for  I  did  not  give  you  full  instructions.  Tlic 
rea.son  the  canoe  goes  faster  and  faster  and  higher  and  higher  is  that 
you  keep  rejieating  the  song.  You  shoukl  change  the  words  of  tiie 
song,  anil  then  you  can  guide  it.  I  came  to  tell  you  this."  As  lie 
stopped  speaking,  he  stepped  of!  the  stern  of  the  canoe  into  the  air 
and  disappeared. 

Tiie  youtli  now  clianged  the  words  of  the  song,  singing,  "  TgdUehe 
waHke"^dion'da't  ne"  ak^hoii'wd''\"  and  at  once  the  canoe  began  to 
descend,  gradually  coming  to  the  ground.  But  the  occupant  of  the 
canoe  exclaimed,  "Oh  I  this  is  not  wliat  1  wanted.  I  desired  to  come 
down  a  little  lower  only,  not  to  the  ground."  So  he  sang  again  tiie 
first  words  of  the  song.  At  once  the  canoe  siiot  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,  tiie  wind  whizzing  past  his  ears  in  a  frightful  man- 
ner. The  speed  of  tiie  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,  "Tf/diiche  hehdageshon 
hohircson  vak^hon'icd"\'''  The  can<ie  descended,  but  its  speed  was  so 
great  tiiat  he  was  greatly  disturlicd  and  distressed.  At  last  he  said, 
"I  have  learned  the  music,  and  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  sing,  'My  canoe 
must  stop  immediately."" 

[The  story  ends  here  thus  aiiruptly.] 

24.  The  Chestnut  Tree  Glakdkd  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  cook  every  day  the  food 
required  by  his  nephew,  but  he  never  ate  with  him.  There  came  a 
time.  liowe\er.  when  the  little  nephew  asked  his  uncle  to  eat  with 
him.  The  only  reply  was,  "Xo;  I  have  already  eaten  my  food." 
Then,  ui-ging  his  ne|ihew  to  be  (|ui('t.  he  would  remai-k",  "  I  have 
cooked  this  food  for  you  alone." 

As  the  little  nephew  grew  older  he  began  to  wonder  at  (his  sti-angc 
conduct  of  his  uncle.  Finally  he  asked  him :  "  Oh.  my  uncle,  I  never 
see  you  eat  I  ITow  is  this^  "  Rut  the  uncle  nnul<>  him  no  reply.  So 
the  little  ne]>ln'w  decided  to  try  to  catch  his  uncle  eating  by  spying 
on  him.  One  night  after  this,  when  the  little  nei)hew  had  eaten  his 
supper,  he  said :  "  Oh,  inicle,  I  am  very  tired  and  sleepy.  I  am  now 
going  to  bed  to  get  a  good  rest."  A^'ith  tliis  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  l)egin  getting  his  own  evening 
lueal.  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  3'ou  to  grow  in  size."  Obedient  to  the  woi'ds  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  stopi>ed 
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  sliook  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  stiil  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  youth  brouglit  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  foi-  him.  I  think  that  I  can  j^repare  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  tins  exactly  as  my  uncle  did.  This  chest- 
nut must  be  enough  for  one  K:ore  meal." 

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


CUBTIN 
HEWITT 


':^]  FICTION  149 


over  the  fii-c.  Tlien  taking  the  waiul  IVoiii  its  sl<iii  wrapping,  \vhen 
the  water  began  to  boil  lie  gently  tapped  on  tiie  kettle,  waving.  "  I 
want  j'ou  to  grow,  my  kettle."  lie  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  apjjroaching.  The  latter  from  a  distance  saw 
him  on  the  roof,  and  watched  his  actions.  As  he  apjiroached  the 
lodge  he  heai'd  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  nej^hew?  "  The  youth 
replied  in  delight:  ''Oh,  I  have  so  mucii  ]iudding  that  we  shall  have 
a  grand  feast."    Then  he  told  his  uncle  everything. 

The  uncle  asked.  "Did  v-ou  use  all  the  chestnut?  "  The  youth  re- 
plied, ■'  Yes.  There  was  only  a  .small  bit  here."  Thereupon  the  jioor 
uncle  exclaimed:  "By  doing  this  you  kill  me.  That  is  the  only  kind 
of  food  T  can  eat.  I  shall  die  of  hunger  now.  That  kind  of  chestnut 
does  not  gi'ow  everywhere,  and  oidy  a  jierson  who  has  great  orenda 
(magic  power)  can  get  it."  "Oh.  pshaw!"  rejilied  the  nephew;  "I 
know  where  tiiere  are  whole  trees  full  of  chestnuts  of  this  kind.  I 
can  get  a  large  bagful  for  V'ou,  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  liave 
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 
world  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  conlidently  replied,  "I  am  sure  that  I 
can  get  you  one."  The  uncle  answered :  "  No,  you  can  not.  You  are 
yet  oidy  a  small  boy.  You  would  lo.se  your  life.  These  seven  women 
have  a  great  eagle  perched  upon  a  very  tall  tree  to  watch  it.  Night 
and  day  he  guartls  it.  Not  a  living  thing  can  come  near  the  tree,  for 
if  even  a  man  try  his  utmost  the  eagle  woidd  discover  him  and 
scream  out  a  cry  of  distress.  Thereui)on  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  they  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  [bth.  ANN.  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 
ej'es  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. 

Finally  the  nephew  came  to  a  place  where  he  began  to  see  through 
the  forests  to  an  opening,  whereupon  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 
luicle  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  with  me.  Do  you  think  that 
j'ou  can  bear  me  and  it,  too?"  The  mole  answered,  "Oh,  3'es!  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  tree,  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.  WTien  the  meat  was  all  eaten  the  eagle  uttered  a  loud 
scream,  and  out  ran  the  seven  sisters  with  their  clubs.  When  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  hei'e,  and  you  must  then  take  me  back  to  the 
lodge  of  the  seven  sisters,  so  I  can  hear  what  they  say,  in  order  to 


CURTIN 
HEWITT 


]  FICTIOX  151 


learn  wliether  tlic}*  inteinl  to  follow  us  in  an  attempt  to  recover  the 
chestnuts."  Ilaviiig  ajraiii  enteied  the  liody  of  the  mole,  tlie  youth 
tokl  it  to  fjo  under  tlie  fjround  until  it  came  to  the  lodge.  The  mole 
obeyed  liim  liteially.  A\'hen  the  mole  reached  the  lodge,  it  thrust 
out  its  nose  and  mouth.  TIh'  youth  then  stuck  his  ear  out  of  its 
mouth  and  listened  to  what  was  being  said  in  the  lodge.  lie  finally 
overheard  one  of  the  sisters  say:  '"It  must  he  a  y(HUig  man  just 
grown.  No  one  has  succeeded  since  his  inicle  in  stealing  the  chest- 
nuts. Perhajis  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 answei'eil  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  hack  to  tlie  forest  at  once.  After  reaching  the 
forest  the  youth  dismiss(>d  the  mole  with,  thanks  for  its  aid.  and  then 
hurried  home. 

When  the  youth  reached  home  he  found  his  luicle  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  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  tiie  hitter's  success,  and  he  was 
very,  very  happy.  Tie  is  still  making  chestnut  puddings.  His 
nephew  became  a  great  hunter.  lie  obtaiiu'd  whatever  be  desii-ed, 
because  he  had  the  mole  for  his  guardian  spirit  and  aid. 

[Not?:. — 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  tiiercby  became  preg- 
nant.    Being  born  of  her.  he  became  the  master  of  the  chestnuts.] 

25.  The  Otteu's  IIk.\I!T  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  exjiedition  far  away 
from  their  village.  Having  arrived  at  thei:  usual  hunting  grounds, 
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  pai'ty 
to  h\s J,-(inof<'h(i  (temporary  lodge),  asked  each  person  to  lay  hold  of 
his  pouch  fetish,  and  to  declare  while  touching  the  pouch  what  lie  or 
she  intended  to  kill  on  the  following  day. 

The  lii-st  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  declai'ed  that  she  intended  to 
kill  geese.  But.  as  the  pouch  pa.ssed  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  [eth.  ann.  32 

ing  them  on  its  round  she  grasped  her  husband's  arm  to  keep  him 
the  more  effectuality  from  putting  his  hand  on  the  pouch.  As  he 
showed  a  disposition  to  touch  it,  she  pushed  him  over  on  the  ground, 
but  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 
tliis  he  unwittingly  destroyed  the  power  of  the  orenda  (magic  ])o- 
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  fiying:  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  very  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 


Sy,^;S]  FICTION  153 

those  of  a  i-al)hit.  These  he  followed  to  a  large  hollow  tree,  in  which 
inrleed  he  fomul  a  bear,  which  he  killed,  (^iri'viiig  it  home,  he 
pkinned  and  dicKsed  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 .ibout  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.  .\s  soon  as  she  has  rested,  send  her  on  the  following 
da}'  for  her  father  and  his  peoi)le.  Instruct  her  to  tell  her  father 
that  you  ai-e  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  jjunished  enough 
for  abandoning  you."'    Then  the  stranger  departed. 

The  ne.xt  day  about  noontide  the  wife  came  and  she  was  welcomed  by 
her  husband.  After  resting  that  nigiit  the  young  man  in  the  morning 
sent  her  for  her  father.  The  night  she  was  absent  the  sti'anger  again 
came  to  the  lodge  and  said  to  the  young  man:  "  Your  father-in-law 
will  be  very  glad  to  know  that  you  ha\e  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  ostensii)ly 
to  rcpaj-  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  tiap.  You  must  not 
pay  heed  to  your  father-in-law's  statement  that  it  is  not  of  much 
account.  lie  will  insist  that  you  take  some  other  which  he  will  rep- 
resent as  of  much  greater  potency  than  this.  Rut  take  my  advice 
and  choose  this  one."'    Then  the  stranger  de^Jarted. 

The  next  morning  toward  midday  the  chief  and  all  his  ])eople 
returned  to  the  lodge  of  the  chief's  son-in-law,  who  welcomed  them 
and  ort'ered  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  bearskin,  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  lie  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  friend  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  ojiening  in  the 
forest  was  now  a  lai'ge  body  of  water. 

Ever  after  this  circumstance  the  chief's  son-in-law  enjoyed  good 
fortune  in  all  that  he  undertook.  He  became  a  great  hunter  and  a 
great  wai'rior.  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. 

2G.  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  yoimg  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- 


ZTni]  FICTION  155 

proach  ste.ilthily  the  spot  where  slie  was  picking  berries  by  herself 
and  to  s])eak  to  hci'  at  all  hazards.  Tie  did  not  L'ct  the  opijortiinity 
until  the  next  day. 

On  iioinii"  af;ain  to  the  .spot  he  had  chosen  as  the  best  place  to  meet 
her,  he  concealed  himself  and  awaited  the  coniinij  of  (lie  seven  si.sters 
to  their  daily  task  of  ijatherinf;  berries.  By  j^dod  fortune  the  young- 
est sister  came  directly  to  the  i)Iace  near  which  the  ardent  gallant 
was  concealed,  and  he  lost  little  time  in  making  his  presence  known 
by  s])eaking  to  her  in  very  low  tones  lest  the  other  sisters  sliould 
hear  him.  The  sister  addressed,  turning  around,  saw  him  and  at 
once  fell  in  love  with  him,  for  he  was  a  finedooking  young  man.  Ho 
said  to  Iier,  "  1  greatly  desire  to  speak  to  you.  but  I  do  not  want  3'our 
sisters  to  overhear  lue.  foi-  I  am  afraid  of  them."'  So  she  stopped 
picking  ben-ies  and  listened  to  what  he  had  to  say  to  her.  They  con- 
versed together  for  a  long  time.  At  last  he  remarked:  "T  must  go 
lest  your  sisters  discover  me.     I  will  meet  you  here  tomorrow." 

After  her  lover  had  gone  the  youngest  sistei-  tried  very  diligently 
to  fill  her  basket  with  hucklebei-ries.  imt  she  did  not  lune  time  to  do 
so  before  the  eldest  sister  called  out,  "Come,  now,  my  sisters,  our 
baskets  are  full,  and  wo  must  go  home."  They  stalled  toward  their 
lodge,  but  missing  their  youngest  sister,  called  her  until  she  came. 
She  acted  shyly,  being  afraid  to  go  very  neai-  them  lest  they  should 
detect  any  odor  which  would  let  them  know  that  she  had  been 
near  a  man.  Then  they  asked  her,  "  IIow  is  it  that  you  have  not 
Idled  youi'  basket?"  To  deceive  them  she  feigned  illness,  but  the 
eldest  sister,  going  near  hei-,  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  afi-aid 
of  her  sisters:  but  they  would  not  belie\e  her.  Too  well  did  they 
know  the  odoi-  of  a  man.  They  were  vei-y  angry,  and  they  scolded 
and  threatened  her;  l)ut  she  was  now  thinking  of  the  young  man, 
and  so  did  not  cai-e  what  thev  said  or  did. 

The  next  day  they  .started  out  again  to  gather  hucklebei  ries.  and 
the  youngest  sister  went  directly  to  the  spot  where  the  young  man 
had  ])romised  to  meet  her.  She  was  more  than  delighted  to  see  him 
there  awaiting  her  coming.  She  sat  down  with  him  and  tliey  made 
love  to  each  other.  The  other  sisters,  being  very  busy,  forgot  to 
watch  her,  as  they  did  not  exj^cct  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  b(>gan  to  pick  berries  together.  When  her 
basket  was  nearly  full,  the  eldest  sister  again  called  out:  "Come, 
si.sters!  our  baskets  are  full.     We  must  now  go  home." 

The  youngest  si.ster  lagged  behind  as  long  as  possible,  and  tlie  other 
sisters  waited  for  her  until  she  came  up  to  them.     AVhen  she  drew 


156  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ETH.  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  would  not  listen  to  her 
pleading,  their  only  answer  being,  "Tomorrow  we  shall  go  once  more 
to  pick  huckleberries,  and  if  j'ou  again  talk  to  a  man  we  shall  never 
pei-mit  you  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  thej' 
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  impatienth'  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, 
couie  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  youngest  sister.  She  is  very  proud. 
If  we  turn  her  away  from  home,  she  will  never  come  back  again. 
We  shall  then  lose  her  forever";  and  they  were  very  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 
answer,  she  started  away.    Weeping  bitterly  thus  to  leave  her  sisters, 


hewito]  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  home  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 
3-oung  wife. 

For  a  time  they  were  undisturbed  in  their  happiness  arising  from 
their  devotion  to  each  other.  But  there  came  an  evil  day  when  the 
young  man's  mother  began  to  I"'  ir.Mous  of  her  daughter-in-law, 
for  .she  felt  that  the  yoiuig  wife  had  dis[)laced  her  in  her  own  son's 
affections.  She  felt  this  the  more  keenly  because  up  to  the  time  of 
•  his  marriage  he  had  l)cen  devoted  to  his  mother  and  had  not  passed 
his  time  in  the  company  of  other  women  and  men.  Now  ho  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  wei"e  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  trouiiled  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  warv,  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  jilace.  I  am  afraid  tiiat  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  know  wiietiier  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  [eth.  ann.  32 

had  made  him  a  captive  in  such  manner  that  he  covild  not  escape  to 
I'eturn  to  them. 

Years  passed  and  the  boy  grew  into  manhood.  In  looks  and  man- 
ner he  was  the  exact  doulile  of  his  father.  He  had  become  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!  you  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  know  about  such  things,  I  will  tell  you  all  that 
you  should  Imow.  This  misfortune  has  come  upon  me  tlirough  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  ine.  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  sisters.  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 
3'ou."  The  youth  exclaimed  with  delight,  "Oh,  mother!  why  did 
you  not  give  me  this  beautiful  little  dog  long  ago?"    The  boy  was 


i'^I^Tvmtt']  fiction  159 

dclif^litcd  witli  tlio  tiny  clop;,  takinc  it  up  and  carespinp  it  in  an 
exiihorance  of  joy.  WluMi  lie  put  tlie  ilo<:  dwwn,  it  leaped  around, 
trying  to  bark  and  seeniin<r  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  tajijied  the  dog, 
accom|)anying  the  action  with  the  woivls.  "(irowl  my  dog.  Grow! 
my  dog."  With  each  Mow  of  the  wand  the  dog  increased  in  size 
milil  he  became  an  immense  beast.  Then  she  said  to  the  boy:  "Get 
on  his  back  and  you  will  see  that  he  can  carr^v  you.  You  must  be 
very  kind  to  him  and  never  neglect  him.  lie  will  always  fight  f(n- 
and  ])rotect  you.  Should  you  desire  to  make  him  small  again, 
l)ull  his  ears  and  shake  him  gently,  and  he  will  assume  any  size  you 
may  w  ish,  from  a  great  dog  to  one  so  small  that  you  can  secrete  liim 
in  your  bosom." 

'I'he  youth  willingly  accepted  his  mother's  commission,  saying: 
"Mother,  I  shall  not  wait  another  day  to  iierfect  my  preparations. 
I  will  go  after  the  lower  ])art  of  your  body  at  once."  Tlis  mother 
told  him  that  the  oil  of  a  wild  turkey  was  the  only  thing  which 
coidd  make  the  parts  of  hei-  body  grow  together  again:  that  it 
must  come  from  a  gobbler:  and  that  he  should  prei)are  this  oil 
before  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  togctlu'r  again,  and  she  would  be  well. 
The  youth  said,  "  I  will  kill  tiie  turkey  gobbler  on  the  way."  I5ut  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  jouth  started  on  his  (juest  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  anim;ds  of 
prey  and  where  he  would  find  it  on  his  return. 

When  the  youth  drew  near  the  lodge  of  public  a.ssembly,  which 
was  his  destination,  he  heard  loud  laughing,  screaming,  and  (juarrel- 
ing  over  wampnm  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  T  return";  then  he  went  to  the  lodge  of 
a.ssembly.  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,  wlio  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  ai'ose  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  j'ears,  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  wnnan.'"''  Although  the  youth  was  alwa3-s  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,  the.y  did  not  Icnow  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. 

T\nien  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 
fairlj'  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, 


^^KW.'x!^]  FICTION  10 1 

iiiul  call  out:  "Wrll,  little  hoy,  you  think  you  are  jroinp;  to  die,  but 
you  will  not.  I  am  ji<iiiii;  to  help  you.  The  chief  has  went  a  man  to 
see  whether  you  are  still  alive,  but  he  will  not  be  here  for  some  time 
yet.  I  will  be  your  friend.  AVhen  you  want  me  to  aid  you  all  you  have 
to  do  is  to  think  of  me  and  I  will  come."  Soon  nitev  that  the  l)oy 
fell  aslee]).  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.     liuilding  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.  Tn  the  morning  you  will 
find  between  the  roots  of  the  old  stump  in  the  dooryard  a  ti'usty 
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  moining  the  boy  did  as  the  voice  told  him.  .\ftei-  he 
had  killed  the  beai-,  he  went  to  the  lodge  and  was  very  glad. 

The  next  night  he  awok-e,  and  the  stranger,  knocking,  said:  "  ISIy 
friend.  I  want  to  say  to  you  that  men  are  coming  for  you ;  you  must 
go  w  ith  them  for  they  will  be  f(Hul  of  you.  You  mu.st  not  be  ]iroud. 
The  headman  of  the  tribe  will  want  you  to  .stay  with  him.  You  will 
l)c  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  l)e  in 
this  lodge.  They  will  ask  you  about  the  great  bear,  and  you  shall 
say, '  I  saw-  no  gi-eat  bear,  but  a  .strong  wind  went  tiirongh  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  liow  nor  arrow.  They  took  him 
home  the  next  day.  The  chief  oi-dered  them  to  bring  him  to  his  lodge 
for  the  lad's  relatives  were  all  dead.  The  chief  said,  "  You  shall  l)e 
my  grandson  and  you  shall  live  with  me."  The  boy  wanted  a  cluli 
instead  of  a  bow  and  ari-ows.  "  A\'hat  do  want  a  cluV)  for?"  asUed 
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.''  I?ut  the  boy  had  this  idea  of  running  always  in  his  mind; 
04615°— IS 11 


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

when  he  saw  other  boys  running,  he  laughed,  thinking,  "  That  nin- 
uing  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  simrise  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 
I  do  not  believe  it  is  a  man.  It  is  a  beast.  Perhaps  you  will  get 
killed,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Well,  I  must  be  ready,"  said  the  boy ; 
"  we  run  on  the  thii'd  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  Iniow  what  it  was.  Allien  daylight 
came,  he  saw  that  it  was  a  great  bear.  When  tlie  sun  appeared  the 
bear  said,  "Now,  we  will  start."  At  once  he  le;tped  straight  across 
the  valley  to  the  next  hill.  The  groimd  sank  where  he  struck.  He 
leaped  from  hill  to  liill  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 
hoy  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  iiave  killed  the  great 
bear,  and  you  must  send  and  get  his  body."  The  grandfather  sent 
eight  men  to  get  his  body,  rhey  were  twenty  da\s  going  and  twenty 
days  returning.  The  boy  was  not  one  day  coming,  for  Gaha  carried 
liim  over  the  woods  and  under  the  clouds. 

28.  The  Old  Max  and  the  I5ot 

In  the  past  an  old  man  and  a  small  boj'  lived  together  in  a  lodge 
by  themselves.  With  great  aifection  they  passed  the  time.  Each 
called  the  other  "  friend."  They  were  not  blood  relatives,  only 
cousins. 


S^w^/^]  FICTION  163 

One  (lay  tlie  old  mnn  dressed  himself  richly — sticking  now  feathers 
in  his  headdress.  ti'inuiiin<i;  his  hair,  and  paintiiii;'  his  face,  and  put- 
ting on  new  moccasins.  The  little  hoy.  watching  him,  asked.  "  AVhat 
are  3'oii  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  mothei-  will  let  you  go,  T  will  take  you  along," 
said  the  old  num. 

(loing  to  his  mother,  the  bo}'  asked  her  if  he  might  go.  After 
thinking  a  minute,  she  said,  "Yes;  you  nuiy  go,"  and  gave  him  a 
new  pair  of  moccasins  to  wear  on  the  journey. 

He  returned  to  his  friend,  who  washed  him,  trinuned  his  hair, 
painted  his  face,  put  new  feathers  in  his  heaildress,  and  gave  him  a 
tine  new  bow  and  arrows.  Then  both  .set  out  together.  They  traveled 
until  night,  wlu'n  they  stopjied  and  made  tlirir  Wiv  in  tlic  w()(}(is; 
tlieu  tliey  ate  their  evening  lueal  and  slept. 

They  traveled  in  this  way  for  five  days,  until  tiiey  rauic  to  a  lake 
so  broad  that  they  could  not  see  the  other  shore.  "  How  can  we 
get  across?"  asked  the  boy.  "  Oh  I  we  shall  have  to  make  a  canoe." 
said  the  old  man.  "' A\'ill  it  take  hmg?  "  asked  the  boy.  "  About  one 
day,"  the  old  man  rejilietl.  lie  looked  around  in  the  woods  until  he 
found  a  large  bitteniut  lii(ko!-y  tree;  stripi>ing  off  the  bark  he  made 
a  large  canoe. 

The  next  morning  the  old  nuin  and  the  boy,  putting  their  hows, 
arrows,  and  fur  robes  into  the  canoe,  started  across  the  lake.  The 
jjoy  was  seated  in  front  and  the  old  man,  who  ))addled.  in  the  stei'n. 
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  hei-e?  Is  it  safe?  Are  there  not  things 
in  the  water  that  might  kill  us?'"  were  some  of  the  anxious  (|ueries 
of  the  boy.  "Oh!"  said  the  old  num,  "there  are  fi.sh  in  the  water, 
and  there  are  in  the  world  evil  tilings  reaching  from  the  bottom  of  the 
water  up  to  the  home  of  the  Master  of  Life."*"  "  If  the  wind  blows 
we  shall  be  carried  olf  into  the  lake."  saiil  the  boy.  "  Oh.  no  I  we  ai-e 
safe,"  said  the  old  man.    So  both  lay  down  and  soon  fell  asleep. 

About  midnight  the  boy  heard  a  rii>irnig  sound  as  of  swiftly  mov- 
ing water,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  canoe  was  nio\ing  rapidly. 
He  thought  that  the  wind  must  be  blowing  luinl.  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:  "(Jet  up,  friend,  and  see  what  the  trouble  is. 
The  water  is  running  by  very  fast.  A\'hei'e  is  the  lake  going?  What 
aie  we  to  do?  "  "Lie  down,"  said  the  <  id  man,  "no  harm  will  come 
to  YOU  or  me." 


164  SENECA    FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  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  tlie  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 
awake.  When  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 
heard  of  us  before.  We  are  the  people  whom  you  call  Hinon  in 
your  home.  AVe  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.  We  want  you  to  help  us,  for  you 
are  more  powerful  in  orenda  than  is  anj'thing  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.  We  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  younge-st  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  (juills  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  tliey  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  wovdd  venture 
nearer. 


"kw/^]  fiction      ■  165 

'I'lit'ii.  tlic  little  lioy  <X()\nfi  down  into  the  i^roiiiul.  went  forward 
until  he  was  directly  iiiidei-  the  tree  in  which  the  jjorciipine  lived. 
Putting  his  head  and  arms  ciiit  of  the  "ground,  and  takinj:  aim.  he 
sent  an  arrow  into  the  porcupine's  body.  It  moved  a  little.  'I'hen 
he  sent  another  and  still  another  arrow  in  (]uick  succession.  Feeling 
soniethinc:  hit  him.  the  porcupine,  raisinji  his  quills,  shot  them  in 
every  direction.  To  avoid  them  the  boy  hid  under  the  <;round.  Then 
the  porcupine  groaned  and.  jolling  from  the  tree,  fell  to  the  ground 
dead.  Thereupon  all  the  Ilinon  with  the  old  man  came  up.  (fitting 
open  the  great  porcupine,  which  was  very  fat.  they  took  out  his  en- 
trails, and  then  di'agged  his  hody  liome;  they  saxcd  his  (|uiils  and  ate 
his  flesh.    All  wondered  at  the  oivnda  of  the  little  hoy. 

Old  IlinoTi  was  delighted.  "Now,"  said  he,  "we  have  an.itiicr 
enemy — a  great  and  terrible  sunfish,  which  lives  in  our  river  here  and 
which  lets  no  one  come  near  for  water;  he  devours  everything,  and 
he  even  springs  up  out  of  the  watci-  and  catches  birds  as  they  flv  over 
the  river.  The  little  boy  said.  "1  can  kill  iiim  without  troulijc.  for 
he  is  in  the  water."" 

The  next  day  the  Ilinon  and  the  old  man  went  near  enough  to  show 
him  where  the  sunfish  lived.  The  trunk  of  a  great  tiee  had  fallen 
into  the  river,  and  it  was  under  tliis  that  tlie  suulish  used  to  lie  in 
wait.  He  was  in  his  lurking  place  when  they  arrived  there.  Tiie 
little  fellow  at  once  saw  him;  he  siiot  his  ariow  straight  into  the 
heart  of  the  sunfish,  which  came  to  tiie  surface  and  died.  Springing 
into  the  water,  the  whole  party  of  Ilinon  pulled  the  sunfish  to  land 
and  dragged  him  off  to  the  lodge  of  old  Ilinon,  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  sickne.ss,  and  many  of  our  people 
die  because  of  him.  If  we  could  kill  this  butterfly,  we  should  have 
good  health  an<l  very  few  of  us  would  die.  lie  passes  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  irrass, 
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  tui'iietl  and  Hew  back  slowly  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  came.  Hinon  said:  "  I  am  very  glad.  I  do  not  think  that 
he  will  ctmic  again  to  this  place.     Our  last  enemy  is  destroyed." 


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

They  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  pa.ss 
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  around  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  ob'  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  one/isa 
[moss]  ;  HOW  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  marriage  bread.  The  old 
woman  baked  22  cakes  in  the  ashes,  which  she  wrapped  in  corn  husks. 
The  next  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. 


ftJKTiN.l  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  ti'oe  and  the  arrow  has  gone  so  far  tliiit 
I  can  not  find  it."  The  elder  daughter  put  her  basket  on  a  log  ;ind 
both  girls  hunted  for  the  arrow.  The  strange  man  ran  around  tlie 
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  hei- 
elder  sister.  After  a  while,  failing  to  find  the  ari-ow,  they  i-eturned 
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,  ".V  man  asked  us  to  look  for  his  arrow,  and  T  tliiid< 
that  he  stole  it."  The  old  wdinan  scolded  them,  saying:  "You  do 
not  love  me.  You  know  tliat  T  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  thev  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  tlie  mari'iagc  bread  near  the  wom;in.  thinking  that  she  was 
Doendjowens. 

When  the  man  came  home  he  sent  his  wife  to  the  other  side  of  the 
tire,  telling  her  to  preteiul  that  he  was  her  brother.  She  did  so.  He 
sat  between  the  girls,  talking  to  them.  Soon  the  little  boy  began 
to  say.  "Father!  Father  I"  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  heai-d  running.  He  came  and  kicked  at  the 
door,  calling,  "Ohohwa.  tbey  want  you  at  Doendjoweus's  long 
lodge."  Ohohwa  said  to  the  girls :  "  They  are  always  using  nick- 
names here.  My  real  name  is  Tagnnsowes."  He  continued  :  "  They 
are  holding  a  council  and  can  not  get  on  without  me.  so  T  must  go. 
"\'ou  lie  down  here  whenever  you  like,  and  I  v.ill  come  liome  soon." 
Then  he  went  away  to  attend  the  council. 

The  younger  girl  whispered:  "Let  us  go  out.  Tiiis  is  not  Tagon- 
sowes's  lodge.  Tf  we  could  get  the  basket  we  migiit  go  on."  When 
Ohohwa's  wife  fell  asleep  the  younger  girl  took  the  liaskel  of  mar- 
riage bread  out  of  doors,  saying:  "AVe  must  go  on.  Let  us  put  two 
elm  logs  in  the  bed."    They  did  so,  and  started  away. 


168  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.  ann.  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  (3hohwa. 
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  couch  and  smoked  a  while.  As  he  sat  there, 
he  was  pinched  several  times  by  black  ants.  Turning  to  the  bed  he 
said,  ■'  Wait  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  or  Man 

(modern  folk  explanation) 

God  at  first  created  the  sun  and  the  moon.  One  day  while  walking 
al)Out  on  the  eaith,  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  ^ery  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 


V^]^i]  FICTION  1(59 

necessary  susteiinnce.  God  niiick'  u  Iuiiiimii  tieinp  from  the  eurlli  pilod 
up  aiiionji  tilt'  roots  of  this  tree.  There  were  so  iinuiy  small  liiiers  in 
this  eai'th  that  the  huiuaii  heiiig  was  seemingly  hairy,  and  the  soil 
was  so  pool-  and  li::ht-c()lored  that  he  had  a  pale,  sickly  complexion, 
(iod  liieathed  on  him  and  he  stood  up  and  walked.  Then  (lod  looked 
at  liim  fi'om  behind  the  roots  of  the  ti'et>.  l)Ut  heinir  not  pleased  with 
iiis  creation,  he  I'esohcd  liiat  he  wouhl  try  again. 

Ciod  soon  came  to  a  walnut  tree  lying  u])roote(l.  which  had  pulled 
up  with  its  roots  a  mound  of  black  earth.  From  this  earth  (iod  made 
another  hiiinan  being.  As  he  looked  at  him.  he  saw  that,  being  black. 
he  had  too  nnich  color.  So  (iod  was  not  satislied  with  this  ])iece  of 
work',  either. 

Going  on  farther,  he  came  at  last  to  an  uprooted  sugar  maple. 
There  the  earth  had  a  line  deep  color:  so  out  of  this  God  made  the 
third  human  being,  whose  body  was  smooth  and  linn  and  of  a  full 
rich  tint.  And  (iod.  [)leased  with  his  looks,  said.  "He  will  ilo ;  he 
looks  like  me."  This  last  human  being  was  an  Indian;  thus  the 
Indian  was  the  native  human  being. 

'ii.  Ci.\M.\('.w.\iiir.(;owA 

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  (ianiagwaihegowa  came  out.  They  shot  arrows  at  the  beast, 
but  none  of  these  injured  him,  for  he  was  full  of  evil  orenda.  But, 
while  tlie  bear  was  rushing  ai'ound.  he  liap])eiied  to  raise  his  fore 
feet,  and  when  tlie  men  shot  him  there,  he  died  instantly,  for  it  is  said 
that  the  life  of  the  (ianiagwaihegowa  is  in  the  soles  of  his  fore  feet, 
and  that  this  bear  is  vulnerable  in  no  other  spot. 

The  (ianiagwaihegowa  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. 

3"2.  The  .Man   W'iki  Bkivmk  a   I'isii.  ami  a  G  ania(;waiiie 

Two  young  warriors,  who  wei-e  cousins,  started  on  a  hunting  e.\|)e- 
(lition.  Having  arrived  at  their  destination,  they  constructed  a  tem- 
porary camp. 

Some  time  after  cam])ing  they  heai'd  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 
hollow  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  camp."  The  other  replied.  "  No !  Do  not  touch  it :  it  may 
be  something  that  will  bring  us  hai'm."  But  the  other  young  man 
would  not  heed  this  advice.  Taking  tlie  fish  to  camp,  he  cleaned, 
cooked,  and  ate  it.  AVhen  he  had  finished  eating,  he  began  to  be  very 
thirsty,  and  said  to  his  companion,  "  Go  and  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,  "  <  )h  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  ?  "  Puttinsr 
up  liis  hand,  the  afflicted  youth  found  that  his  moutli  had  grown 
large.  Init  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  everyone  what  had  befallen 
his  companion.     The  people  then  visited  the  pond,  whereupon  the 


CI- 
HE 


l^i^  FICTION  171 


great  fi.'-li.  lifting  its  iieiul  al)ove  the  surface,  said.  "T  shall  not  long 
be  a  fish,  for  1  shall  soon  become  a  Ganiagwaihe."  Then  the  people 
departed. 

In  a  short  time  the  gi'eat  fish  hecaine  a  ( ianiagw  ailic.  ha\'ing  hail' 
only  on  its  back  and  feet.  It  reinaiiicil  aronnil  the  lake,  and  of  those 
Avho  came  thei-e  to  fish  it  always  killed  and  ate  one.  The  people 
did  not  see  this  d<ine.  but  always  niis.sed  one  of  their  number  at  that 
place.  They  did  not  like  this  at  ;dl,  knowing  tiiat  if  tiie  fish  con- 
tinued to  li\e  there  long  it  would  kill  many  persons.  The  people 
therefore  assemiiied  in  ccuncil  to  decide  how  to  get  rid  of  the  great 
fish.  At  last  two  or  three  young  men  agreed  to  go  theic  and  trv  to 
kill  the  (Janiagwaihe:  but  they  ne\('r  returned.  .Men  wlio  went  to 
find  tiiem  recovered  only  their  garnu'nts. 

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  [lond.  lie  camped 
there.  That  night  he  dreamed  that  his  cousin,  appearing  to  him  in 
the  form  of  a  num.  asked  him:  "  ^\'hy  did  you  come  ^  I  can  kill 
you."  The  other  answered,  "I  have  come  to  kill  you  because  you 
are  doing  great  hai'ui  to  our  pco]ile.''  Then  (Janiagwaihe  said,  '"1 
shall  start  at  daylight,  and  you  pursue  me  and  see  if  you  can 
catch  me." 

Karly  the  next  morning  the  young  man  started  in  the  direction 
the  (ianiagwaihc  had  indicated  it  woulil  flee.  and.  running  as  swiftly 
as  he  could,  he  kept  up  the  pursuit  until  midday,  when  he  saw  the 
tracks  of  the  (ianiagwaihe.  Thereupon  he  shouteil  in  triumph: 
"  Xow  1  shall  kill  you.  I  shall  soon  o\ertake  you  lunv."  Then  he  I'an 
fa.ster  than  he  had  been  nmning  befoie.  lie  ran  until  night,  when 
he  camped  and  built  a  fire.  On  looking  at  his  bundle  of  corn  Hour 
he  found  that  it  had  become  ants:  so  he  had  nothing  to  eat.  This 
mishap  was  caused  by  the  (ianiagwaihe  in  order  to  deprive  the  man 
of  food.  It  was  now  night.  While  the  young  man  sat  theie  thiid; 
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  (ianiagwaihe  called  :  "  Stop,  cousin  !  Hold,  until  I 
can  have  a  talk  with  you.  If  you  will  permit  iTie  to  e.scape  this  time.  I 
will  start  early  in  the  morning  and  will  leave  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try forever,  and  I  will  injure  your  ]ieoj)1e  no  more."  The  youii" 
man  replied:  "If  you  are  in  earnest  in  what  you  have  just  said.  T 
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  (ianiagwaihe  agreed  to  this;  and,  having  bade 
each  other  farewell,  they  parted. 


172  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  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  Ganiag^yaihe  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  biother  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  ask^,  "  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  off  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  lietween 
lier  son's  voice  anci  his.  He  said,  "  AVell,  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 
leturned.  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 
liis  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  you  toward  the 
east.  AVhen  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. 


-'-;;•]  FICTION  173 

After  runninjr  around  in  circles  and  inakinf;  many  tracks  around 
the  iodf^e,  tlie  brother  then  went  up  the  smoke-hole  and  stood  on  tlie 
roof.  There  was  visible  a  long  streak,  or  trail,  which  the  arrow  had 
made  through  the  air.  Kunning  under  this  trail,  he  soon  came  to 
the  spot  where  the  ai'row  had  struck  the  stone,  and  then  he  followed 
his  sister's  tracks. 

The  old  woman,  the  murdered  man's  mother,  growing  tired  of  w^ait- 
ing  for  her  son,  went  over  to  the  neighboring  lodge  to  see  what  he 
was  doing.  She  found  the  lodge  empty.  While  sitting  there  by  the 
fir(>,  a  voire  spoko  to  her  out  of  the  (lames,  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 
slie  became  a  (ianiagwaihegowa.  Then  siie  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  ran  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,  thev  hiv 
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  aci-oss  the  worKl  so  high  that  nothing 
can  climb  over  or  pass  it.' " 

In  the  morning  he  saw  ncai-  the  i)rusli  lodge  the  very  stone  he  liad 
seen  in  his  dream.  He  took  this  piece  of  .stone  with  him.  IJefore 
midday  they  heard  the  roaring  of  (ianiagwaihegowa.  At  noon  the 
young  man  threw  the  i)iece  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  clamliered  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  (ianiagwaihegowa  ran  toward  the  north,  but 
could  lind  no  end  to  or  opening  in  the  wall  of  rocks.  Then,  coming 
back,  the  monster  ran  to  the  south,  but  could  lind  no  end  there.  Once 
more  returning,  she  lay  down  near  the  tracks  by  the  wall.  It  was 
now  night.  The  (ianiagwaihegowa  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  [eth.  a<js.  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  thick  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 
the  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  find  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  the}'  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  iielp  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  iiad 
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 
anj'one  who  comes."  Thereupon  the  monster  crushed  his  he;n!.  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  you  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 
imtil  she  got  into  the  second  trap.  After  a  longer  struggle  she  broke 
through  this,  only  to  fall  into  the  third  trap,  from  which  also  .she 
esi'aped  at  last.  Coming  .soon  to  tlie  third  old  man.  the  (ianiagwai- 
hegowa  asked.  "  Have  you  seen  a  couple  of  persons  pass  this  way?  " 
"  I  have  not,"  was  the  reply,  whereupon  tlie  monster,  seizing  the  old 
man,  ground  him  to  pieces  with  her  teeth.    Then,  finding  the  tracks 


^/i^JJ^]  FICTIOX  175 

of  the  yoiino;  couple,  she  said:  ■"  Ilei'e  are  tlie  tracks  a  frain  :  they  have 
passed  on.    I  am  sorry  that  I  kiHed  the  okl  man.'' 

Tlie  brother  and  sister  went  to  the  third  uncle.  Kushing  into  his 
lodile,  they  found  him  maiving  a  net.  His  eyes  were  closed  and  filliHl 
with  matter,  hut  still  he  was  at  woik.  He  had  long  upi)er  eyelids 
haiiging  down  on  his  ciieeks.  I\aisin<r  the  lids  he  cleaned  his  eyes: 
then  with  a  piece  of  huckslvin  he  tied  the  lids  across  his  forehead. 
When  the  brother  and  sister  rushed  in,  they  said,  "ITncle!"  but  he 
ditl  not  hear  them.  They  called  again,  "  Uncle !  we  are  running  away 
anil  want  your  assistance,"  l)ut  he  did  not  stop,  for  he  failed  to  hear 
them.  Then  the  bi'otlier  hil  liiiu  on  the  head  with  a  corn  pouiuler. 
whereupon,  raising  his  eyelids,  he  said,  "I  heard  a  voice."  The 
brother  and  si-ster  exclaimed.  "  We  are  closely  pursued  by  a  Ganiag- 
waihegowa."  ''  I  v.ill  help  you  as  fai'  as  I  can.  but  your  grandfather, 
who  lives  near  here,  will  do  more  tiian  T.  Run  to  him."  was  his 
answei'.    The\'  hurried  on. 

The  Ganiagwaihegowa  came  neai'er  and  nearer.  The  old  man  laid 
a  long  net  across  the  trail,  in  which  tlie  (ianiagwaihegowa  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.  'I'he  old  man  had  told  them  to  run  to 
their  grandfather,  aiul  they  had  done  so. 

On  reaching  their  grandfather  they  found  Siiagodiyowecigowa 
there,  wiio  hail  rattles.  When  the  brother  and  sister  came  up  S'hago- 
diyoweiigowa  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.  Tlie  lieai-  came  to  the  S'hago- 
diyoweqgowa,  whom  she  killed  aftei-  a  hard  hght.  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  Ijrother  and  sister 
and  to  put  over  it  to  boil  a  kettle  of  bear's  oU.  They  made  two  fires, 
putting  two  kettles  over  them,  into  which  they  poured  the  oil.  Then 
the  three  boys  got  red  willow,  from  which  thcv  soon  m;Mlc  a  number 
of  arrows. 

The  Djogeon  woman  ^tood  near  the  first  k'cttle  when  the  ( ianiaL'wai- 
hegowa  came  rushing  along  asking,  "Are  the  two  persons  here  who 
made  these  tracks?"  "'^'es;  they  are  in  the  lodge."  was  the  reply. 
The  Ganiagwaihegowa  started  to  go  around  the  kettles,  but  the 
woman  said.  "  Xo.  you  must  go  the  way  they  went,  right  through  the 
fire,  kettles  and  all;  you  nuist  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  luirned,  the  monster  fell   back, 


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

growling.  In  making  for  the  second  kettle,  that  too  was  upset  in 
the  same  way  and  she  was  burned  still  moi'e.  Then  the  boys  killed 
the  Ganiagwaihegowa  with  their  red-willow  arrows,  and,  building  a 
fire,  they  burned  her  bones  to  powder,  so  that  the  monster  could  not 
come  to  life  again. 

The  old  Djogeon  told  the  bi-other  and  sister  to  stay  two  or  three 
days  at  her  lodge  and  rest;  then  her  sons  would  take  thcin  home. 
She  told  her  sons  that  this  old  Ganiagwaihegowa  woman  stole  a 
young  boy  and  girl  from  them  and  took  them  away,  wisliing  to  make 
the  girl  marry  her  son.  The  boj's  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  off  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 
]ust  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.    They  had  a  son  four  or  five  years  old. 

After  a  time  the  woman  gave  birth  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  every  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  la.st  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  liim.  This  made  the  baby  look  like  a  chipmunk  as  he  ran 
around.  They  went  to  the  lodge  and  pla,ved  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  tlie  fire  and  seeing  a  small  track 
and  very  short  steps,  the  father  said :  ''  Here  are  the  tracks  of  a  boy. 
Who  is  it?  "  The  boy  told  him  how  he  had  found  his  little  brother  in 
a  hollow  tree,  and  that  he  liad  given  him  soup  and  had  made  him  a 


(■iriTiN.-l  FICTION  177 

fawn-skin  coat,  anil  that  tlicv  had  i)layt'(l  toircthor.  "Cio  anil  Iniiiir 
liiiii."  said  the  father.  "  He  would  nut  <-<)iiii'  foi-  anvthing.  for  lie  is 
verv  timid."  was  the  answ  ei'.  "■  \\'i'll.  we  will  catch  him.  "\'ou  ask 
iiim  to  fro  to  hunt  mice  in  an  old  stiini])  there  iievond  the  Iolt.  1  \\  ill 
<iet  him."  Catchiutr  a  jrreat  many  mice,  the  man  put  them  in  his 
ho.som,  in  his  clothes,  and  all  ai'ound  his  body  and.  _<roin<j  lieyond  the 
log.  tui-ned  himself  into  an  old  stump  full  of  mice. 

(ioing  to  the  hcilliiw  ti'ee.  the  hoy  said. ''  Come.  l(>t  us  ]ilay  catciiing 
mice."  The  little  fellow  came  out  and  running  to  the  stump  rushed 
around  it.  catchin*:  many  mice.  The  little  hoy.  wild  with  excite- 
ment, laujrhed  and  shouted  with  joy.  foi'  it  seemed  that  he  had  never 
known  such  fun.  All  of  a  sudden  the  stum]i  tui'iied  into  a  man.  who. 
catihin<r  him  in  Iiis  ai-ms,  ran  home.  The  hoy  screamed  and  strufj- 
<rled.  hut  it  was  of  no  use:  he  could  not  get  away,  and  he  would  not 
be  [)acitied  until  his  father  ])ut  a  small  club  into  his  hand,  saying. 
•'  Now  sti'ike  that  tree."  He  struck  a  great  hickory  which  stood  neai\ 
Tlie  tree  fell.  Everything  he  struck  was  crushed  or  killed:  he  was 
delighted  and  cried  no  more.  The  little  boy  stayed  now  with  his 
biother  and  i)layed  with  him  while  theii-  father  went  hunting.  "  You 
must  not  go  to  the  north  while  I  am  away."  said  the  father:  "bad. 
dangerous  people  live  thei'e."  When  the  father  was  gone  the  little 
boy  said.  "Oh.  let  us  go  north:  I  should  like  to  sec  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  I  My  father!"  "Oh,  these  people  want  to  hurt  my 
father."  said  he.  Making  i-eady  a  |)ile  of  red-hot  stones,  he  hurled 
them  at  the.se  people  and  killed  all  of  them.  They  were  frogs  and 
sang  nohi/ira.  When  the  boys  came  home  their  father  was  very  angry 
and  said.  "  You  nuist  not  go  again,  and  you  must  not  go  west:  it  is 
very  dangei'ous  there,  too." 

When  their  father  had  gone  hunting  the  ne.xt  day  the  little  i)oy 
said.  "  I  should  like  to  .see  what  there  is  in  the  we.st :  let  lis  go  there." 
Traveling  westward,  they  went  on  until  they  came  to  a  very  tall  pine 
tree.  In  the  top  of  the  tree  was  a  bed  made  of  skins.  "  Oh  I  "  said 
the  little  boy.  "that  is  a  strange  place  for  a  bed.  I  should  like  t(j 
see  it.  I  will  climb  up  and  look  at  it."  Fp  he  went.  He  found  in  it 
two  little  naked  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl;  they  were  frightened. 
On  pinching  the  lioy.  the  child  called  out  :  "Oh.  father,  father!  .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 
near(>r  and  nearer,  hurrying  along  until  it  reached  the  bed  in  the 
tree  top.  Raising  his  club,  the  little  Ixjy  struck  Thunder,  ciaishing  his 
head  so  that  he  fell  dead  to  the  ground.  Then,  by  pinching  her, 
04615°— 18 12 


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

he  made  the  little  girl  call:  "  Mother,  Mother!  some  strange  boy  has 
come  and  is  playing  with  me."  Instantly  the  mother  Thunder's  voice 
was  heard  in  the  west,  and  presently  she  stood  by  the  nest.  The  boy 
.?trucl\  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  fatlier.  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.  The}'  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 ;  "  you  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  hmg.  The  little  boy  had 
never  seen  anything  like  it.  Stone  Coat  skinned  the  two  bears;  he 
put  one  before  his  visitor  and  took  one  for  himself,  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 


ZT,^]  FICTION  179 

him  down  at  a  groat  rate.  Presently  he  ran  up  aciiin  to  the  place 
where  he  staitcd.  "  AVhere  did  you  leave  the  bowl?"  asked  Stone 
Coat.  "Oh I  I  do  not  know;  it  has  gone  down  there  T  suppose." 
replied  the  little  fellow.  "  Well,  let  us  try  to  see  who  can  kick  this 
log  Iiighest."  said  Stone  Coiit.  "  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  tiic  lot;  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.  Tlie  dog  came  and  tlie  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  verj'  large  head  (far  largei'  than  the  head  of  a  buffalo),  who 
played  dice  for  the  heads  of  all  who  came  along.  Crowds  of  people 
were  theie  betting  in  threes.  Wlien  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  tlie  number  was  large  enough  for  his  puipuse; 
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.  AA'hen  the  big-headed  uuiii 
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  imtil  the  boy  won  back  all  the  peojile  and  the  big- 
head'ed  man  lost  his  own  head,  which  the  boy  immediately  cut  off. 
The  whole  crowd  shouted,  "  Now,  you  must  be  our  chief."  "  Oh  ? 
how  could  such  a  little  fellow  as  T  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  gamliling. 

"  Now,"  said  the  father,  "  you  must  never  go  to  the  east ;  they  i)lay 
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,    LEC.ENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

against  the  eagle,  the  turtle,  and  the  beaver  chins  on  the  other.  The 
little  hoy  took  the  side  of  the  wolf  and  the  bear:  they  said.  "  If  yon 
win.  yo!i  will  own  all  this  country."  They  played,  and  he  won  for 
them.  "Now."  they  said,  "you  ai-e  the  owner  of  all  the  country." 
On  reaching  home  the  little  boy  said  to  his  father.  "I  have  won  all 
tile  beautiful  country  of  the  east:  you  come  and  be  the  chief  of  it." 
His  father  consented,  and  going  to  the  counti'V  of  the  east  with  the 
two  boys,  there  they  lived.     That  is  the  story. 

?>5.  The  Faithless  Wike  and  the  Tiiiiee  Old  Mex 

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

Everything  went  well  until  the  boy  was  large  enough  to  do  errands. 
Then  his  mother  began  to  send  him  for  water,  which  was  at  some 
distance  from  the  cabin.  For  some  reason  unknown  to  her  the  child 
was  much  afraid  of  going  to  the  spring.  Whenever  his  mother 
ordered  him  to  go  he  would  complain  and  try  to  beg  off;  but.  taking 
him  by  the  hair,  she  would,  lead  him  to  the  door,  push  him  out, 
throwing  the  water  vessel  after  him.  Then  the  child  knew  he  must 
pick  up  the  vessel  and  go.  When  he  had  brought  the  water  into 
the  lodge  the  mother  would  wash  herself,  comb  Ikm-  hair  carefully,  and 
after  donning  hei'  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  e\erv  day  for  a  long 
while.  Then  the  mother  began  to  be  very  cruel  to  the  l)oy.  She  did 
not  feed  him  properly,  and  neglected  him  in  every  way,  seeming 
almost  to  hate  him.  At  last  the  boy  told  his  father  that  his  mother 
<lid  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  side  of  the  fire  and  fhe  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  bov  told  him  thtit  about  the  same  time  every  day  his  mother 
sent  him  after  water  to  a  place  whei'e  he  was  afivud  to  go;  that  then, 
after  washing  her.sel.f  and  combing  her  hair,  she  would  go  off  into 
the  woods  for  bark  for  the  fire,  and  remain  a  long  time. 


V/.w,"^]  FICTION  181 

The  next  day  wlicii  tlic  fnthci-  I'luiic  home  lu^  a-ki'd  whcthiT  tlic 
same  tliin<;:  liad  talicii  |)lac,.'.  The  hoy  i-cplietL  "  ^'cs."  Then  tlie 
man  determined  to  watch  his  wife.  Tlie  following  day  lie  stafted 
out  to  hunt,  as  usual,  .\fter  going  some  distance,  he  crept  l)ack  to 
a  place  whence  he  could  see  what  took  place  around  the  cahin. 
Shortly  he  saw  the  skin  (h)or  ()])en  and  his  hoy  thrust  out  and  the 
water  vessel  thrown  after  liiiii.  lie  saw  the  boy  pick  up  the  vessel 
and  start  off.  crying  bitterlv.  -This  made  the  father  very  sad.  hut  he 
waited  as  patiently  as  po.ssible  to  see  what  would  happen  ne.\t. 

The  boy  brought  the  water.  Soon  after  this  his  wife  came  out  in 
new  garments,  carrj'ing  her  strap  and  hatchet.  She  walked  away 
from  the  lodge  in  a  bee  line,  her  husband  following  cautiously. 
Walking  down  a  little  hill,  she  went  on  until  she  came  to  a  dry  black 
ash  tree,  from  which  the  bark  could  be  stripped  easily.  There  she 
stood,  looking  up  at  it.  Her  husband  drew  as  near  as  he  could  with- 
out being  seen  by  her.  .Vftcr  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.  .\.s  it  alighted  on  the  ground  it  became  a  handsome  man. 
The  husband  saw  how  his  wife  and  her  lover  ilallied  togi'tlier.  At 
that  moment,  drawing  his  bow,  he  shot  an  arrow.  In  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  tlie  lo\  er,  turning  himself  into  a  biid,  flew  upward  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  air.  The  woman  sprang  up.  and  seeing  her  husband, 
said,  "It  is  yon,  is  it^  ""  "  1'es,"  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.  >lie  ran  home,  put  her  children  out- 
side the  cabin,  and  set  lire  to  the  hemlock  boughs  composing  its  roof. 
These  bla/.ed  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  ;iir,  saying, 
"  Let  there  be  a  snow>torm  and  let  the  >now  lie  as  deep  as  these  trees 
are  high."  .\s  the  .snow  began  to  fail,  she  said  to  the  boy,  "  Here  is 
your  dog:  keep  liim  with  you,  and  take  care  of  your  sister."  Then 
she  .started  oil. 

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. 

.\fter  a  while  the  father,  having  recovered,  dragged  himself  toward 
his  home.  AVhen  near,  he  saw  there  was  no  longer  a  lodge,  lie 
searched  for  his  children  and  at  last  found  and  re.scued  them.  Then 
he  set  about  building  a  lodge  of  Ijoughs.  The  boy  told  him  what  his 
mother  had  said  and  done,  and  he  was  very  sad.  \\'hen  the  lodge 
was  linished,  he  sjiid:  "  Vou  must  stay  here  and  take  care  of  your 


182  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  Ibth.  ann.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  yourself. 
AVhen  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  boy  said,  "  I  think  our  dog  wants  to  go  back  home."  So  they 
turned  back,  and  when  they  got  home  their  supper  was  ready. 

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

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

After  a  few  days  the  fish  got  into  a  small  stream,  on  the  banks 
of  which  two  sisters  had  built  a  lodge;  they  had  also  made  a  dam 
to  catch  fish.  One  morning  on  going  to  the  dam  they  were  delighted 
to  find  a  great  fish  there.     The  first  said,  "Let  us  dress  it  right 


CUKTI 
HEWITT 


^]  FICTION  .  183 


f.Wiiy."  "Wait."  the  other  said,  "until  we  get  the  water  boiliiio;  to 
cook  it.  We  must  cut  it  up  carefully.  Such  a  fish  must  have  much 
roe." 

When  everything  was  ready  they  opened  the  tish  carefully:  in 
the  place  of  roe  they  found  a  beautiful  boy.  For  a  moment  they 
forgot  the  fish.  They  washed  the  boy  and  cared  foi-  him,  and  were 
icjoiced  that  sucli  a  gift  liad  come  to  their  door.  They  said:  "We 
will  take  good  care  of  him.  Terhapa  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  hapjnly  together.  He  soon  surprised 
them  b}'  killing  large  game  and  by  becoming  a  great  hunter,  ^^'hen 
they  found,  however,  that  while  hunting  he  wandered  off  a  long 
distance  from  home,  tliev  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  tiie  sisters  were  pleased  with  his 
)>ower  and  skill,  they  were  afraid  sometiiing  might  hapjien  to  him. 
i-ince  there  were  .so  many  wicked  ]ieople  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  kilk^d  any  kind  of  game  lie  wisiied.  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  lie 
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  j'ou  come?" 
Knowing  that  he  was  discovered  (by  sorcery),  the  boy  answered: 
"Yes:  I  have  como.  I  thought  I  would  see  wliat  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  pin  that 
lay  at  his  side,  he  drove  tiie  ])in  down  his  spinal  column.  T^p  came 
his  head,  whereupon  he  said.  "I  ha\e  a  rule  that  when  one  of  my 
nephews  comes  I  play  a  game  with  him.  ami  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  lire- 
place  and  made  it  smooth ;  then  he  shook  the  bowl  and  plum  pits. 
The  agreement  was  that  the  first  who  turned  the  plum  j)its  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  fiist."  At  last  the  old  man  agreed  to  this.  As  he  shook 
the  bowl  the  six  plum  pits  Hew  out  of  the  smoke  hole.  When  thev 
got  outside  they  turned  into  birds,  which  flew  off  out  of  hearing. 
By  and  by  tlie  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  [bth.  ANN.  32 

could  not  get  them  all  of  one  color.  At  last  he  ceased  his  efforts. 
Then  the  boy  threw  his  own  dice.  and.  like  the  others,  they  went  out 
of  the  smoke  hole  and.  turnino;  into  birds,  flew  off.  Thereupon  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  wish  that,'"  and  they  all  turned  to  one  color. 
When  the  old  man  saw  that  he  had  lost  the  game  he  wished  to  jilay 
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. 
]ii  \\hich  he  saw  a  second  cabin.  All  around  it  the  ground  was  very 
smooth  as  if  it  were  a  gi-eat  playground.  Seeing  nobody,  he  walked 
u})  (|uietly  and  peeped  into  tlie  cal)in:  an  old  man  sitting  within 
called  out :  "  Is  that  you,  nephew  ?  Come  in.  I  have  been  waiting 
for  you  now  some  time."  "  Yes.  I  was  going  by.  and  I  thought  I  would 
look  in  and  see  you."  said  tiie  boy.  "  AA'ell.  I  ha\e  a  way  of  passing 
time.  I  play  a  game  when  my  ne])liews  come,"  declared  the  old  man. 
"What  is  your  gamei'"  asked  the  boy.  "Playing  ball,"  implied  the 
old  man.  "I  like  that  game."  answered  the  youth.  "I  bet  my  head 
against  my  nephew's,"  said  the  old  man.  "All  right.  Let  us  play, 
then,''  was  the  boy's  reply.  They  went  to  the  middle  of  the  clearing. 
At  each  end  was  a  stake.  The  young  man  said.  "  Ai'e  you  ready?" 
Counting.  "  One.  two.  three."  they  threw  th':-  ball.  Tlie  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 
loot.  He  had  to  stop,  sit  down,  and  i^ull  out  the  horn.  Just  as  he 
drew  it  out,  the  old  man  passed  him.  Spitting  on  his  hand,  the  young 
man  rubbed  his  foot,  and  it  was  healed.  He  then  threw  the  horn, 
liitting  tiie  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 
I  he  old  man,  who  wanted  to  try  again :  but  the  young  man  said,  "  No; 
that  is  not  the  rule."  Thereupon  with  his  knife  he  cut  off  the  old 
man's  head,  and,  after  burning  his  cabin,  went  home. 

A  third  time  the  youth  went  toward  the  setting  sun,  farther  than 
before.  Passing  the  first  and  second  clearings,  he  came  to  a  third, 
in  which  he  saw  a  great  pond  covered  with  ice;  near  it  was  a  cabin. 
As  the  young  man  peeped  in,  an  old  man  sitting  there  called  out: 
■'  Well,  nephew,  I  knew  you  would  come.  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 
■'  Yes,  I  thought  I  would  look  in  and  see  you.     Now  I  must  go," 


^'kw,'^]  fiction  185 

added  the  youth.  "Oli.  ik)!  1  lia\o  a  i-iile  that  wlien  one  of  my 
nepliews  comes  I  i)lay  a  jrame.  I  inn  a  race  on  the  ice,  and  who- 
ever gets  beaten  to  tlie  end  h)ses  his  head.  No  matter  how  lie  gets 
there;  oidy  let  him  get  there  first,  he  wins."  Just  as  he  was  ready 
to  start,  the  young  man.  taking  a  l)ail  oil'  an  oak  tree,  said,  "  I.iet 
there  come  a  liigii  wind!""  He  got  into  the  hall  (which  glows  on 
the  oak  tree  at  a  certain  time  of  the  year)  and  in  a  inoiiu'iit  he  was 
o\er  the  ice.  The  old  man  was  scarcely  halfway  across.  The  young 
man  then  pulled  out  of  his  |)ouch  a  white  flint.  As  he  threw  it 
toward  the  midille  of  tlu'  pond,  he  said.  "Let  this  stone  melt  the 
ice  and  hoil  tiie  water.""  In  an  instant  tiie  old  man  was  sinking 
in  boiling  water  and  cried  for  mercy,  but  the  young  man  said.  "  No  I  " 
As  the  \\ater  boiled  it  melted  all  tlu'  ice:  thereupon  then  the  water 
disappeared,  dry  land  a|)peared.  and  the  old  man  was  left  in  the 
middle  of  it,  a  great  stone  inonuinent.  .\fter  setting  fire  to  the 
cabin  the  young  man  went  home.  He  had  never  forgotten  his  father 
and  sister,  and  he  knew  where  they  were. 

()n(>  day  a  runner  came  t^)  the  lodire  of  the  two  sisters,  announcing. 
"  I  lia\('  been  sent  by  the  chief  to  gi\e  notice  of  the  marriage  of  a 
certain  woman.  'I'he  chief  wishes  all  to  come.'"  Knowing  that  the 
boy  had  oirnda  (magic  powers),  tiie  sisters  were  <'areful  of  him. 
'When  be  said.  "  I  want  to  go  to  the  gathering.""  they  raised  many 
objections,  saying.  "' Had  people  will  be  there:  all  sorts  of  games 
will  be  ])lay<Ml."  They  were  afraid  to  let  him  go.  lie  replied: 
•' ^'ou  were  afraid  to  ba\c  mc  go  toward  the  setting  sun.  I  ha\e 
been  there.  I  have  destroyed  the  dice  man.'''  the  ball  man,  and  the 
ice-pond  man.""  The  sisters  were  greatly  a.stonished.  Tlie  youth 
added.  "  Now.  1  am  going  to  the  gathering.  My  mother,  father, 
sister,  and  dog  are  there.""  Yiehling  at  last,  they  told  him  how- 
to  find  his  grandmotlu'r.  and  said  that  slic  would  tell  him  what 
to  do. 

He  set  out:  after  traveling  a  long  way  he  struck  another  trail; 
then  he  began  to  meet  many  jjcople.  and  as  they  journeyed  the  crowd 
kept  increasing.  When  night  came  they  all  camped  together  and 
were  very  hungry,  (ioing  ont.  the  youtii  killed  game,  which  he 
told  the  men  to  bring  in:  this  the  women  i)repared.  The  next  day 
all  went  on.  The  sisters  had  said  to  bim  before  starting:  "There 
will  be  one  woman  in  the  crowd  who  will  seem  to  have  jjower  ()\er 
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 
desii'es.     He  looked  at  her  but  passed  on. 

At  last  he  reached  the  [)lace  where  his  grandmother  lived.  She 
was  \ery  poor.  He  said.  "  (irandmother.  T  have  come.""  "  Poor 
grandchild.  I  am  sorry.  1  have  so  little  to  give.  T  am  alone  and 
poor,""  murmured  the  grandmother.     "  Oh  I  do  not   mind;  we  shall 


186  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  S2 

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.  When  night  came  he  said  to  his  grand- 
mother, "  I  am  going  to  the  gathering."  She  warned  him  to  beware 
of  ev'il  men  and  women  who  played  games  and  tried  to  deceive  people. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  gathering  he  pretended  to  be  a  little  boy, 
playing  around  with  the  children  and  going  into  the  Long  Lodge 
with  them.  There  he  saw  his  mother  decked  out  gaily,  perched  on  a 
high  seat  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  where  she  could  be  seen  by  every- 
body. He  saw  his  father  secured  to  a  stake.  Over  the  fire  his  sister 
was  roasting,  and  he  heard  his  dog  coughing,  bai-ely  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  ready  to  help  you.  I 
have  a  pair  of  moccasins  you  must  wear.  At  certain  intervals  your 
mother  orders  your  father  to  be  branded.  Now,  you  must  stand  near 
the  fire.  The  moccasins,  being  made  of  the  skin  of  a  woman's  private 
parts,  have  sympathetic  power  over  them.  When  v'our  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  elied.  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  nuigic  powers,  their  heads  burst,  the  pieces 
strildng  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. 


^I'^l^]  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."  Thanlving  his  grandmother,  they  started  for  the 
sisters'  cabin.  Wiien  they  came  near,  the  sisters  ran  to  meet  them, 
saying.  "  We  will  be  your  father's  wives."  And  they  all  lived  happily 
together. 

30.  The  Dagwanoentent  (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  niu.st  not  go  north  to 
collect  fungus,  but  always  south.  The  uncle  him.self  went  hunting 
every  day  but  brought  back  no  game.  At  home  he  lived  on  chestnut 
pudding  and  bear's  oil.  Tlie  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,  saj'ing,  "  Watchisgwengo,  Swell,  Pud- 
ding."   Thereupon  the  mush  would  increase  in  quantity. 

The  next  day  after  his  disco\ery  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  liunting. 
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  injunction. 

The  boy  started  on  his  journey,  traveling  until  he  came  to  a 
Long  Lodge.  In  the  lodge  was  a  great  supply  of  venison  and  bear 
meat,  and  skin  bags  of  bear's  oil  were  hanging  all  around  the  wall. 
The  only  person  within  was  a  woman,  who  was  sitting  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  with  her  head  bent  down.  There  was  also  a  small  boy 
toddling  around,  who  clapped  his  hands  and  laughed  wlien  he  saw 
the  young  man.  The  woman  took  no  notice  of  him.  The  young 
man  played  a  while  with  the  child.  After  a  time  he  started  for 
home,  taking  with  him  a  small  piece  of  meat  whic^h  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 P'  He  asked  her  various 
questions,  but  she  would  not  answer  him  a  word.  Thereupon  with 
his  bow  and  anow  he  shot  at  a  bag  of  bear's  oil  which  hung  above 


188  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

her  head.  The  sn  row  piereed  the  bag  and  the  oil  flowing  out  fell 
upon  the  woman's  head  and  face.  This  made  her  very  angry,  but  she 
did  not  speak. 

Now,  all  the  meat  in  the  lodge  was  the  game  which  the  uncle  of  the 
young  man  killed  and  brought  in  every  day.  He  never  came  there 
until  late  in  the  day  while  tlie  nephew  went  home  early,  so  that  in  all 
these  years  they  had  ne\er  met  at  tlie  Long  Lodge.  When  tlie  uncle 
came  that  e\ening  he  found  the  bag  liroken  and  tlie  oil  spilt  over  the 
woman.  He  suspected  that  his  nejihew  had  been  there.  On  reaciiing 
his  own  lodge  that  night  he  asked.  "Have  you  been  at  the  r.,ong 
Lodge '^  "  "  Oh.  yes."  said  tlie  nephew ;  ''  I  have  lieen  g<iing  there  for 
the  last  13  years.  I  have  always  eaten  of  the  meat  there.  I 
have  not  eaten  fungus  for  many  years."  The  uncle  was  very  angry, 
and  asked  him  whether  he  broke  the  bag  containing  the  bear's  oil. 
"  Yes,"  the  young  man  answered.  "  Oh  I  you  have  destroyed  us  both, 
T  fcai-.  That  woman  is  an  awful  witch.  She  can  not  be  killed.  .She 
will  ruin  us  both."  said  the  uncle. 

The  next  day  the  uncle  went  off  again.  But  that  time  the  nephew 
remained  at  home.  During  the  day.  raising  the  cover  of  his  uncle's 
couch,  he  found  a  great  pot.  This  he  filled  with  water,  putting  in 
also  a  good-sized  piece  of  the  chestnut,  for  he  was  very  angry  with  his 
uncle.  When  the  pot  boiled,  he  liegan  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  ai'ound  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,  loiowing  how  terribly  angry 
his  uncle  would  be  when  he  returned  in  the  evening. 

When  his  uncle  came  home  he  said  to  the  boy,  "  What  have  you 
been  doing?"  ''Making  chestnut  pudding,"  declaied  tlie  nephew. 
■' Oh  I  it  is  too  bad."  exclaimed  the  uncle.  "Oh!  that  is  an  old  stoi-y 
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  noLse  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 
(he  stoi-m.  Sweejiing  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. 


<""'T'-'<,1  FICTION  189 

That  (lay  the  boy,  goini^  to  the  I.oiig  Lodge  as  before,  foiiml  the 
old  woman  sittiiiii  tliere.  mute  and  motionless,  as  if  nothing'  had 
hap[)ened  in  the  meantime,  lie  asked  the  other  boy.  "What  has 
your  niotlier  done  with  your  father?"  "  Oh  I  you  will  never  see  him 
again.  She  will  come  for  \nii  tiiiiKwi'ow  morning.  1  do  not  know 
what  she  has  done  with  my  father,  hut  she  went  oil'  with  him  and 
came  hack  without  him."  deciarecl  the  hoy. 

The  nephew  of  the  man  went  home  to  prepai'e  for  the  eonnng  of 
the  wonuin.  He  iiad  a  mole  for  his  guardian.  He  got  inside  of  th." 
mole,  which,  instructed  by  him.  went  down  into  the  ground  under 
llie  lodge  as  deep  as  he  could.  The  next  moi-ning  the  woman  came 
again  with  terrible  fui-y.  raging  worse  tluui  before.  She  uprooted 
all  the  trees  in  her  jiath,  but  she  could  not  iind  the  ne|)hew.  .so  she 
luid  to  go  away  without  him. 

Soon  afterward  the  nephew  went  again  to  the  l,ong  l^odge.  There 
sat  the  woman,  motionless  as  before.  '■  ( )h  I  "  said  the  small  boy. 
"she  went  for  you  this  morning,  but  could  not  find  you.  Where 
were  you?  '"    "  1  was  right  there.'"  rei)lied  the  nephew  of  the  man. 

Then  the  nephew  went  honu'.  The  next  morning  at  daybreak  a 
sinulai-  temi)e>t  came:  but  the  boy  was  down  in  the  grouiul.  inside 
the  mole,  .so  that  the  woman  could  not  iind  him.  Thereupon,  mailing 
herself  into  a  great  whirlwind,  and  digging  a  deep  hole  in  the 
grouiul.  she  lifted  fhe  eaith  to  the  sky,  carrying  the  mole  along  in 
the  dii-t.  The  mole  fell,  but  escaped,  while  the  boy  was  killed.  The 
old  woman  went  home  well  satisfied. 

The  mole  went  immediately  to  work,  howevei-.  and  by  blowing  the 
breath  into  the  l)oy's  mouth  and  withdrawing  it  brought  him  back 
to  life. 

.\fter  that  the  nephew  set  out  to  iind  where  his  uncle  was.  going 
northward.  He  went  beyond  the  I^ong  r.iodge.  ti'aveling  as  fast  as 
he  could  all  day  and  night  and  carrying  the  mole  with  him.  Tiu' 
ne.xt  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  tlie  Long 
Jiodge.  He  traveled  the  second  day  as  fast  as  he  could.  On  the 
third  morning  the  woman  (ame  still  again  in  a  roaring  ten\i)est. 
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  dii-t  fai-  up  into  the  clouds.  The  mole  falling  to 
the  earth,  the  boy  was  kill<>d.  'ihc  witch  went  home  satisfied.  The 
mole,  by  again  working  o\er  the  dead  neiihew,  brought  him  back  to 
life.  Whei'eupon  the  lattei-.  putting  the  mole  into  his  belt,  ran  on 
as  fast  as  he  could  all  the  third  day.  That  night  he  spent  deei) 
down  in  the  great  rocks  of  a  mountain. 


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

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

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

But  the  witch  came  to  life,  and  suspecting  that  they  were  at  the 
Long  Lodge,  she  went  there  in  a  terrible  rage.  Now  the  nephew, 
determined  to  meet  her  alone,  sent  his  uncle  and  the  boy  away.  He 
himself  kept  out  of  her  j)ath.  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  bocame  weak  and  could  not  go  fast.  He  kept 
swerving  to  one  side,  therefore,  until  she  turned  into  a  whiilwind, 
and  even  afterward.  When  all  her  strength  was  spent  and  she  had 
not  found  him  the  witch  turned  to  go  home.  She  had  to  walk,  for 
she  could  no  longer  go  through  the  air.  Then,  following  lier,  tiie 
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  I^dge  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 


CUIITIN 
HEWITT 


]  FICTION  191 


always  keep  apart,  so  that  the  force  that  is  in  these  powders  can  not 
unite.'' 

Then  tlie  three  went  to  the  first  Lonfr  I.odfre.  where  there  was  a 
large  snpi)ly  of  every  kind  of  dried  meat,  and  they  lived  togetlier, 
prosperous  and  happy. 

37.  A  Kaccoox  Story 

An  uncle  and  a  nephew  lived  together  in  a  lodge  in  the  foiei^t. 
The  nephew  was  a  fine  hunter.  One  day  when  the  nephew  was  off 
in  the  woods  hunting  for  game,  a  handsome  woman,  hringing  a  l>asket 
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.  "  Ye-s.''  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,  "  "i'ou 
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,  t'limlv 
ing  the  tree,  he  threw  one  raccoon  after  another  to  the  ground.  .\11 
at  once  he  heard  a  woman's  voice  under  the  tree,  saying.  ''Come 
down!  come  down  I  you  are  tiied."  With  that,  she  ran  off  through 
the  forest.  When  he  reached  home,  he  told  what  had  happened. 
His  wife  laughed  at  his  pei'plexity.  but  said  nothing. 

Not  long  afterward,  on  a  hunting  trip,  while  packing  up  his  game 
and  making  ready  to  start  home,  a  woman  came  up  behind  him.  and 
taking  him  by  the  arm.  led  him  to  a  neighboiing  log.  They  sat  down 
on  it,  whereupon  drawing  his  heatl  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  know  this  place?"  Looking 
around,  he  replied.  "  Yes.  This  is  the  place  where  my  uncle  and  I 
used  to  fish,"  and  giving  a  sudden  spring  into  the  water,  he  became 
a  bass  and  escaped  in  a  flash. 

On  re;iching  home,  he  told  his  wife  what  had  hajipened  to  him. 
She  laughed,  but  said  nothing.  He  was  so  frightened  at  what  had 
taken  place  that  he  remained  at  home  for  several  dav's.  At  last  the 
feeling  of  fear  wore  awav  and  he  started  off  to  hunt. 


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

As  he  was  packing  up  his  game  to  return  home,  a  woman's  voice 
said.  "  Stop  I  "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  kiu)w  this  jjlace ^  "  "I  will  tell  you  soon,"  said  he,  looking 
around.  But  at  that  instant  the  woman  disappeared.  He  soon  saw 
some  one  farther  along  on  the  rock,  and  heard  him  say,  "  I  am  fish 
hungry.  I  will  fish  a  while."  Then,  throwing  out  his  line  into  the 
water  below,  he  began  singing  while  he  pulled  up  one  fish  after 
another.  At  last  he  said:  "I  have  enough.  I  shall  take  a  rest  now 
and  have  something  to  eat.  This  is  what  we  people  eat  when  we 
are  out  all  night  in  the  rocks."  Then  he  took  a  baked  squash  out  of 
his  basket. 

The  3'oung  man  said  to  the  rock.  "  Stand  back  a  little,  so  that  I 
can  string  my  bow."  The  rock  stood  back.  Stringing  his  bow  ami 
saying.  "  Now  boast  again  I  "  he  shot  the  fisherman.  The  young  man 
soon  heard  a  loud  noise,  and  looking  in  the  direction  from  which  it 
came,  he  saw  an  enormous  bat  pass  a  little  to  one  side  of  him.  Taking 
from  his  pouch  a  hemlock  leaf,  and  dropping  it  over  the  rocks,  he 
began  to  sing,  "A  tree  must  grow  from,  the  hemlock  leaf."  Soon  a 
tree  came  in  sight.  Then  he  talked  to  the  troe,  saying.  "  Come  near  to 
me  and  have  nuuiy  limbs."  As  the  tree  came  to  a  level  with  the  place 
on  the  rocks  where  the  young  man  was  sitting,  it  stopped  growing. 
He  had  seen  along  the  narrow  shelf  on  the  rocks  many  other  men. 
He  called  to  the  neai'est  one.  asking  him  to  tell  all  to  come,  so  thev 
could  escape.  Slowly  creeping  up.  one  aftei-  another,  they  went  down 
the  hemlock  tree. 

AVhen  all  had  reached  the  ground,  the  young  man.  taking  a  straw- 
berry leaf  out  of  his  pocket  and  laying  it  on  the  ground,  said,  "  Grow 
and  bear  berries."  Then  he  began  singing,  "  Ripen  berries,  ripen 
berries."  The  \ines  grew,  and  were  filled  with  berries,  which  ripened 
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  beri'ies  disappeared. 

Then  he  said.  '' I..et  us  go  to  our  wife"  (meaning  the  woman). 
After  traveling  some  distance  the  young  man  killed  an  elk.  Cutting 
into  strings  the  hide  they  made  a  "  papoose  board,"  but  big  enoug'i 
for  an  adult;  then  they  started  on.  Soon  they  came  near  a  lodge, 
where  they  saw  a  woman  pounding  corn.  When  she  noticed  them 
coming  she  began  to  .scold  and,  holding  up  the  corn  pounder,  was 
going  to  fight  with  them.  AVhen  the  young  man  said,  however,  "  Let 
the  corn  pounder  stop  right  there,"  it  stopped  in  the  air,  half  raised. 


CURTIN, 
HEWITT 


]  FICTIOIT  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.    AVhen  the  young  man  came  home  his  wife  was  there. 

38.  TiiK  Skli'-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  tlie  man  knew  that  it  had  stojiped 
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  ci'eature 
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  creature;  its  head 
and  part  of  its  body  were  protruding  out  of  the  hollow  in  the  trunk; 
it  had  very  long  teeth,  enormous  eyes,  and  long  claws.  The  man 
had  never  before  seen  anything  so  dreadful.  He  went  back  to  his 
camp.  One  of  the  dogs  followed  him,  saying:  "We  two  shall  be 
destroyed,  but  we  will  do  what  we  can  to  save  you.  You  must  hurry 
back  to  the  village.  Do  not  take  a  torch  or  a  bow  with  you ;  it  will 
only  be  in  your  way.  Put  on  a  pair  of  new  moccasins,  and  carry 
also  a  second  pair.  I  will  lick  the  soles  of  your  feet  to  give  you 
speed."  The  dog  licked  the  soles  of  his  feet;  then  the  man,  putting 
on  the  new  moccasins,  started  toward  home. 
94615°— 18 13 


194  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [etb.  an.s.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  3'ou  can ! 
Our  enemy  has  started  in  pursuit.  It  does  not  travel  on  the  ground, 
but  leaps  from  tree  to  tree.  The  only  thing  left  for  us  to  do  is  to 
get  between  the  trees  and  spring  at  it  as  it  leaps  past.  When  you 
come  to  water,  stick  your  feet  in  it,  making  it  as  muddy  as  you  can; 
then  drink  that  water.  You  have  noticed  that  since  we  have  been 
your  dogs  we  have  drunk  such  water;  it  is  better  for  us.-'  The  man 
soon  got  very  thirsty.  Coming  to  a  place  where  there  was  water, 
he  stirred  it  up  with  his  feet:  then,  after  drinking  what  he  wanted, 
he  went  on.  He  had  not  gone  far  when  a  dog  came  up  to  him  and 
said,  "I  think  there  is  a  hole  in  your  moccasin."  (The  man  looked; 
there  was  indeed  a  hole  in  his  moccasin.)  "Put  on  new  ones." 
Again  the  dog  licked  his  feet  and  put  on  new  moccasins.  Then  the 
dog  said,  "  My  companion  will  come  the  next  time."  Then  the  dog 
ran  back  and  the  man  rushed  on. 

Soon  the  other  dog.  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  only  one  dog  barked  and  howled.  The  man  tried  to 
increase  his  speed.  It  was  still  dark.  The  barking  ceased,  and 
presently  the  dog  spoke  behind  him,  saying:  "My  brother  is  killed 
and  I  am  left  alone.  You  would  better  start  the  death  cry;  our 
village  is  not  far  away  and  the  people  may  hear  you."  The  man 
began  to  scream  out  the  death  cry,  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 ; 


^^S:?',:"']  FICTION  195 

I  sliall  be  destroyed  now.  If  the  people  hear  your  cries  and  conu'  to 
meet  you,  you  will  escape;  if  nc)t,  you  will  surely  be  killed." 

The  dog  went  back;  he  had  but  a  short  di.stance  to  go  tliis  time. 
As  the  man  ran,  screaming,  lie  saw  a  torchlight  aheail.  The  dog 
howled  in  distress;  then  his  howl  died  away  and  the  man  knew  that 
he  was  dead.  Finally,  seeing  people  coining  to  the  rescue,  he  strug- 
gled on  harder  and  harder.  AVhen  he  met  the  people  he  fell  in  a 
faint:  ho  he;ird  the  sounds  liehind  him  as  he  fell,  and  that  was  all 
lie  knew. 

Holding  up  theii-  torches  the  peo])le  saw  a  terrible  animal :  its  fore 
legs  seemed  longer  than  the  hind  ones.  They  shot  at  it,  whereupon 
it  disappeared,  and  they  leturned  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  couhl  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. 
Xot  far  from  the  village  they  found  the  last  dog  torn  to  ])ieces, 
and  farther  on  the  other  one.  When  they  reached  the  camp  they 
saw  that  the  strange  animal  had  eaten  most  of  the  meat;  what 
lemained  they  took  home.  They  did  not  see  the  animal  and  never 
knew  what  it  was. 

39.  The  Three  Young  Women,  D.MciirKiis  or  Awaeii  Yeoendji  oe 

MoTiir.i!  Swan 

There  was  an  old  woman  who  had  three  daughters,  all  of  whom 
wei'c  young,  good  locjking,  and  clever. 

When  the  eldest  was  1(5  years  of  age  and  the  youngest  12,  the  old 
woman  said  :  "  A\'e  want  some  venison  and  bear  meat.  AVe  have  lived 
here  a  good  many  years,  and  have  had  no  meat — nothing  but  bread, 
and  corn,  and  beans,  and  I  long  very  nuich  for  meat.  And  now," 
said  she  to  the  eldest,  "  \'ou  arc  old  enough  to  be  married  to  a  man 
who  can  get  us  some  meat."  To  the  .second  ilaughter  she  said :  "  You 
nuist  go  with  your  sister:  perhaps  you  will  have  to  stay  all  night  on 
the  way.  There  aic  an  old  woman  and  her  son  living  in  a  broad 
field  where  you  must  go.  The  young  man  is  handsome  and  a  s\ic- 
ce.ssfu.l  hunter.    The  old  woman's  name  is  Big  Earth." 

Both  girls  were  willing  to  go,  so  the  old  woman  continued:  "To- 
morrow we  nuist  make  uuirriage-bread."  After  shelling  and  ]iouni]ing 
corn,  they  made  marriage-bread  and  some  cakes,  which  they  baked  in 
the  ashes.  They  made  twenty-four  of  these  cakes,  which  weie  put 
into  a  basket.  The  old  woman  painted  the  elder  girl,  combed  her 
hair,  and  dressed  her  well.  'J'hen  she  told  her:  "Carry  this  basket 
on  your  back.  You  must  take  no  notice  of  anyone  3'o~u  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  Ibth.  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.  AVhen  they  got  back  the  basket, 
which  they  had  left  on  the  log,  was  gone.  "  Now,"  said  the  younger 
girl,  "  we  have  disobej'ed  our  mother.  She  told  us  not  to  answer 
anyone  who  spoke  to  us."  They  had  then  nothing  to  do  but  to  go 
home. 

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

By  and  bv  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 :  "  ily  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. 


CURT 
HEW 


l^]  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."  Tlion,  putting  into  the  bed  two  slip- 
pery-elm sticks  antl  covering  them  up.  they  started  on  with  their 
basket  of  marriage-bread.  They  heard  dancing,  and  as  they  ap- 
proached the  source  of  the  soimd  they  saw  a  Long  Lodge.  Peeping  in, 
tiiey  saw  Gesagwe  in  tlie  middle  of  the  floor.  The  singers  sang  to 
iiini.  Then  everyone,  rising,  threw  corn  into  his  mouth.  He  had  a 
lilaukct  around  him.  They  threw  what  they  iiad  into  his  mouth.  A 
woman  and  her  son  sat  by  the  fire,  and  tiiey,  too,  looked  vei'v  at- 
tractive.    The  younger  sister  said, "  That  is  the  young  man  we  want." 

Going  into  the  lodge,  they  walked  up  to  the  old  woman.  Rig 
Earth,  and  put  down  the  basket.  I^ig  Earth  was  pleased.  When 
the  dflncing  was  over  all  the  ])eople  went  home.  The  man  who  w-as 
dancing  went  home.  Seeing  what  he  thought  were  two  girls  in 
his  bed,  he  said:  "  Well,  1  must  smoke.  They  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  s[)at  it  sim- 
mered on  the  fire.  He  lay  down  and  one  of  the  girls,  he  thought, 
pinched  him.    He  said,  "  ^^'ait  until  I  get  ready  to  lie  down." 

Undressing  himself,  lie  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  liear  meat  and  deer  meat,  wliich  he  i>ut 
into  very  small  packages.  He  nuide  two  loads  of  the  meat,  one  for 
each  of  his  wives.  Then  they  iiH  started  with  the  meat  to  visit 
liis  mother-in-law.  She  had  been  vei'y  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  motlier-in- 
law  to  his  own  home.  They  all  went  to  his  place,  where  they  lived 
happily  together. 

40.    HiNON    AN»   THE    SeNEC.\    WaRRIORS 

(a  tai.e  of  thk   waks   of  the   sf.neca   and   the   chehokee) 

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  paity  following  it.  When  he  had  gone  some  dis- 
tance into  the  den  he  could  no  longer  see  the  bear,  but  he  saw  instead 
a  lire  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  [bth.  ann-.  32 

whom  he  had  sent  to  entice  him  into  the  den.  He  continued,  "  1 
want  to  send  woi'd  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  wisli  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  man  arose, 
and  going  over  to  the  spot  where  the  first  warrior  lay,  rubbed  his 
body  fi'om  his  feet  to  his  head.  Then  setting  down  a  vessel  which 
he  held  in  one  hand  he  proceeded  to  dismember  this  warrior's  body 
joint  by  joint  until  he  had  taken  him  to  pieces.  Placing  each  piece 
in  a  mortar,  with  a  pestle  he  pounded  the  bones  to  a  jelly,  which 
he  poured  into  a  bowl.  Then  he  took  the  bowl  and  the  other  vessel 
into  another  part  of  the  den,  where  he  left  them.  Returning  and 
sitting  down,  he  began  to  smoke. 

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

Then  the  warrior  laid  himself  down,  and  the  old  man  went 
through  the  same  process  as  he  had  with  the  otlier  warrior.  After 
he  had  carried  the  two  vessels  into  the  remote  part  of  the  den,  the 
old  man,  returning,  began  to  smoke.  Shoi'tly  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  refusetl,  saj'ing:  "  I  have  now  done  enough.  I 
will  tell  you  why  I  have  taken  the  trouble  to  do  this  to  four  of  your 
people.  There  is  a  large  opening  extending  from  one  end  of  the 
world  to  the  other.  In  this  opening  is  a  great  rock,  and  in  this  rock 
is  a  man  possessed  of  enormous  horns.    We  have  tried  to  kill  him, 


?,7w;?t]  fiction  199 

but  ciiii  not  do  so.  Now.  I  want  two  of  you  to  try  to  crush  this  rock 
and  so  kill  him;  but  first  you  must  fio  out  and  try  your  strength  in 
oronda  "  (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  ojjcn- 
ing  and  see  what  you  can  do  with  that  enchanted  rock.  Your  com- 
panions may  remain  heie:  the}'  will  not  die,  for  we  never  die  hei-e. 
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  ojiening,  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  (juickly  asked 
them,  "Did  you  use  all  your  orenda  ?  "  They  replied.  "No.  We 
could  have  struck  the  rock  a  harder  blow";  whereupon  the  old  man 
said,  "  Go  back  there  and  employ  all  your  magical  strength."  He- 
tuining  to  the  ojiening  whei-e  the  great  rock  stood,  the  tw'o  warriors 
shot  it  with  all  their  orenda.  After  waiting  for  some  time,  they 
iieard  a  person  coming  toward  them.  Soon  they  saw  that  it  was  a 
man  carrying  the  head  of  an  enormous  hoi'iied  snake  securely  strappetl 
to  his  back.  This  man  was  the  old  man  who  had  transformed  them. 
Returning  to  the  den,  the  two  warriors  said,  "  Now  our  work  is  done; 
the  great  horned  snake  is  dead."    Then  they  went  back  to  their  homes. 

41.    HoDADENON    AND    YeN  YENT'iIWUS  " 

There  was  a  little  boy,  Hodadenon,  who  lived  with  his  elder  sister, 
Yenyent'hwus.  in  a  bark  lodge. 

When  the  sister  went  out  io  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  :i  raccoon's  foot,  and  also 
brought  him  a  bow  and  some  ari'ows.  In  jjlaying  he  tossed  uj)  the 
raccoon's  foot,  telling  the  arrows  to  strike  it,  and  the  arrows  always 
hit  the  foot  before  it  fell  to  the  ground. 

One  day  while  Yenyent'hwus  was  at  home,  a  voice  was  heard  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  lodge,  saying,  "Mush,  brother  I  Mush,  brother!" 
ITodadefion  asked,  "How  is  this?  I  thought  we  were  alone  in  the 
lodge?"  The  sister  said,  "It  is  our  pooi-  bi-olher:  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  chestmit  into  the  pot  with  water,  she  boiled  it. 
While  doing  this  she  stirred  the  meal  and  tapped  the  pot,  which  in- 
ci'cased  in  size  until  it  became  as  large  as  any  pot.  ^^'hen  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,  "  (3ur  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. 

Wlien  his  sister  had  gone.  Hodadenon  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  pu*^  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  you  would  sing 
while  I  dance,"  said  Hodadenon. 

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 


z::^;^]  .      FICTION  201 

Yenyent'hwus.  "  I  shaved  up  the  i)iece  of  tobacco,  put  it  into  the 
)ii[)e.  and  gave  it  to  him,''  said  he.  "Now  we  shall  surely  lose  our 
brother  on  your  account,"  said  Yenyent'hwus;  "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.  Ik'fore  you  come  1o  the  lodge  of  the  wizards  is  a  river, 
over  which  trees  are  thrown  to  walk  upon.  Just  beyond  the  river 
aie  two  great  rattlesnakes,  one  on  each  side  of  the  path,  which  attack 
every  one  who  goes  that  way.  If  you  j^ass  them  safely,  you  will  come 
to  a  great  rocky  mountain,  so  steep  that  no  mere  man  can  climl)  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  you  should  -succeed  in  pa.ssing  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  (ind  approaching.  If  you  should 
make  your  way  past  these  men  and  reach  a  knoll  fiom  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  vlio  is  approaching." 

The  next  day  when  Yenyent'hwus  went  to  plant  she  fastened  the 
door,  shutting  in  Hodadenou.  While  she  was  gone,  hearing  some 
living  thing  outside,  he  tried  to  get  out  to  shoot  it.  Then  he  heard 
£  noise  on  the  lodge  roof  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  some  kind  of 
creature — he  did  not  know  what — with  its  eyes  fi.xed  on  him.  Then 
he  said,  "  You  are  Odyaqgweonion,"'  anyhow,"  thinking  to  himself, 
'I  will  shoot  at  the  game."  Drawing  his  liow,  he  said  to  the  airow. 
"  I  wish  you  to  go  straight  to  the  game."  The  arrow  struck  the 
creature,  killing  it;  thereupon  he  rushed  to  biing  it  in.  Not  i)eing 
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."  "  AVell,  where  is  it  ^ ""  she 
asked.  "  Here  in  the  corn  mortar,"  answered  Hodadeiion.  Rimning 
thither,  he  brought  the  game  to  his  sister.  "  Oh  I  that  is  a  chickadee." 
said  she.  Having  dressed  and  (-ooked  the  bird,  Yenyent'hwus  began 
to  eat  it.  Hodadeiion  stood  there  watching  her  eat,  and  asked,  "Is 
it  good?  "  "  Yes,"  she  replied.  After  looking  on  a  while  longer,  he 
asked,  "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  [eth.  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  could  not  help  doing  it.  Putting  the  belt  on  him 
and  preparing  him  for  the  day,  she  said,  "  You  must  not  go  north 
nor  far  away;  stay  near  the  lodge." 

Yenyent'hwus  then  went  to  her  work  in  the  field.  Soon  the  boy, 
seeing  a  bird  on  a  tree,  said,  "  You  must  be  the  bird  they  call 
Gwenhdaen  nisedosyoden," '"*  whei-eupon  he  killed  it  with  his  arrow. 
Carrying  in  the  game,  he  put  it  into  the  corn  mortar.  When  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  foi-  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 
tliink  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  awa.y.  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 ;  you  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  stopped  and  died. 

He  had  all  he  could  do  to  carry  it  home.  He  put  it  in  the  corn 
mortar.    "Wlien  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  both  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  ai-e  the  one  they  call 


--i^]  FICTION  203 

Shadjinoqgyot.""  The  third  lime  he  said,  "  I  thinit  it  is  you  they  call 
Osoont.'""*  At  that  moment  the  creature,  seeing  him,  turned  to  run, 
but  on  Hodadenon  calling  out,  "  Stop !  "  it  stopped  right  there. 
Drawing  his  bov,-,  he  shot  it.  As  the  animal  struggled  he  called, 
"  Look  ("it !  do  '"'t  break  my  best  arrow."  Whereupon  it  stopped 
and  died.  Ilodadeiion  tried  to  carry  the  carcass,  but  could  not  lift  it. 
L'unning  to  the  place  where  his  sister  was  planting,  he  said,  "  My 
si-siter,  I  have  shot  big  game.  I  can  not  carry  it."  She  went  with 
him  to  the  game;  when  she  «aw  it,  she  said,  "That  is  what  we  call 
Osoont  "  (i.  e.,  a  turkey).  Sli'>  carried  home  the  turkey,  and  after 
dressing  it  put  half  awaj'  and  cooked  the  other  half. 

The  next  morning  Yenyent'hwus  put  the  belt  on  Hodadeiion.  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  exactl_y.  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  lireak  my  arrow:  that  is  my  best  arrow."  Rtmning  up  to  it, 
he  pulled  out  the  ariow.  Finding  he  was  not  able  to  carry  the  game 
animal,  he  had  to  go  for  liis  sister.  When  she  came  she  said,  "  That 
is  called  DJoeaga'""'  After  (hanking  her  brother,  she  seized  the 
laccoon  by  one  leg  and,  throwing  it  ovei-  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  i-eached  home  they  cooked 
pail  of  the  raccoon  and  made  corn  bread.  While  the  meat  was  cook- 
ing she  skimmed  off  the  oil.  telling  her  brotiu>r  that  she  had  wanted  oil 
for  a  long  time.    This  oil  slu'  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.  Hodadenon  went 
this  time  a  few  steps  farther  than  before.  When  he  saw  game  connng 
toward  him,  he  said:  "You  are  the  one  they  call  Hustoyowanen."" 
Then,  looking  again,  he  said:  "T  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,  Hodadenon  pierced  it  with  an  arrow.  The  animal  ran  off 
out  of  sight,  whereupon  Hodadenon  screamed :  "  Stop !  Stop !  You 
are  lireaking  my  arrow !  "  I:>ut  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  mv  arrow.  l)ut  I  will  follow  a  little 


204  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [bth.  ann.  82 

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  Hodadeiion  went  a  little  farther  than  before.  On 
seeing  a  game  animal  walking  along,  he  said  to  it.  "You  must  be 
what  thej'  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.  Hodadefion  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,  Hodadeiion  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  vei-y  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." 

Hodadeiion  ran  back  to  the  woods,  the  men  chasing  him  to  the 
edge  of  the  opening,  where  they  turned  back.  Hodadeiion  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,  "  ^Vlien  the  men 
in  that  lodge  run  after  me  with  their  clubs,  do  you  fight  against 
them  to  help  me."  Then  he  bi'ought  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 
HEW 


i'xt]  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  escaped,  however,  to  the  woods, 
and  when  the  naked  men  came  to  the  edge  of  the  woods  the  sticks 
of  Ilodadeiion  became  people  and  fought,  killing  all  the  men.  There- 
upon Ilodadefion  came,  and  after  dragging  tlie  men  one  after  anotlier 
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  wliich 
stood  a  man,  who  called  out  '"''OgoAgaqgeni  hiwaden.  My  eyes  have 
outmatclied  yours,  my  nephew,"  Imt  the  boy  thouglit.  "  He  does  not 
see  me."  so  he  passed  by.  The  uncle  ditl  not  see  liiin.  When  the  boy 
walked  ui),  the  uncle  said:  "  Vou  iiavc  come  to  me.  I  am  an  Ilodi- 
adatgon,  a  great  wizard.  AVhat  would  you  do  if  it  should  rain 
si)ears  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."  Tlien 
lie  ran  home  with  all  his  speed.  When  near  the  lodge  he  saw  his 
sistei'  go  into  it,  whereupon  he  ran  around  it,  saying,  ''  Let  our  lodge 
be  stone,"  and  straightway  it  was  stone.  Just  then  he  heard  a 
terrible  roar,  and  a  great  rain  of  spears  came  down;  some  broke  on 
the  roof,  others  fell  on  tlu'  ground.  When  the  siiower  of  spears  was 
over,  his  sister  said,  "  You  have  gone  tow  ard  the  north."  "  Yes,  but 
I  shall  not  go  again,"  replied  the  boy. 

After  a  while  he  went  out  to  play.  While  playing  lie  thought,  "I 
will  go  to  my  uncle  and  be  the  first  to  say,  '  Ogongaqgeni^  My  eyes 
outmatch  yours.' "  So  he  went  on  until  he  came  as  near  his  uncle  as 
he  could  witiiout  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 
hav'knosen,  What  would  you  say  if  a  fire  sliould  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  Hodadenon,  "  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  Hodadefion's  uncle  was.  He  fell  off  the  stump,  and, 
his  head  bursting,  an  owl  came  out  of  it  and  flew  away. 

Hodadenon  thought,  "  Xow,  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  clo-sed.  All  at  once  he  called.  "Come  in, 
nephew!  come  in!"  When  the  boy  went  in  the  old  man  said.  "T 
always  play  a  game  of  dice  with  jjeople  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  {hihi  ogaa'^hoon)  for  dice,  say- 


206  SENECA   FICTIOX,   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,  but  the  boy 
insisted,  so  he  had  to  do  so.  Then  Hodadeiion  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, 
Xondjoqgwen."  "^  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  oft'  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 
DagwanoenA'ent  called  out,  "  Oh !  you  are  my  nephew.  I  have  been 
wishing  for  a  long  time  that  yon  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  (deivaqsentwus),  jumped  into  the  long 
bushy  hair  of  Dagwanoenyent,  where  he  hid.  Then  he  called  out, 
"  Yon  can  not  find  me,  nncle ;  you  can  not  find  me."  Dagwanoenyent 
looked  all  around — up  in  the  air,  in  the  trees,  everywhere.  At  last, 
noticing  a  weed  with  a  Imot  on  its  stem,  he  said.  "  Nephew,  you 
are  in  that  knot ; "  but  the  nephew  was  not  there.  Looking  aroimd 
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. 
AAlien  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,  xmcle."     Dagwanoenyent  replied :  "  I  have 


c[;kt[N 

HEWITT 


]  FICTIOX  207 


lost  the  <rame,  but  I  did  not  bet  my  head.  Now,  you  may  have 
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 
tiie  words  of  Dagwanoenyent,  their  servant,  and  ran  to  strike  him 
with  their  clubs.  They  had  the  clubs  raised  to  give  the  blow,  when 
Ilodadenon  willed  their  ileath,  and  they  dropjied  lifeless.  The  boy 
and  his  uncle  cut  their  heads  oil'  and  burned  their  lodge.  Now 
Dagwanoenyent  and  Ilodadenon  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  m\'  uncle  on  the  stump 
and  my  uncle  who  playeil  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  nuiny 
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  1  am  going 
to  get  the  chestnuts."  t»he  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  chipnumk  to  each,  saying,  "  You  are  free 
now.  1  shall  kill  you  unless  you  leave  this  place."  The  snakes  ran 
away. 

Hodadefion  went  on  until  he  came  to  the  opening  in  the  forest,  at 
the  farther  end  of  which  was  the  mountain  wall.  \\'hen  he  came  to 
the  wall  he  found  the  pass.  As  hg  was  coming  out  on  the  other  side 
he  heard  all  at  once  ho"  ho"  Jw"  ho",  and  saw  the  two  S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa,  half  as  tall  as  the  highest  tree.  "  Keep  still !  Keep  still !  " 
said  Hodadefion :  "  I  have  brought  you  dumplings.  You  like  dump- 
lings." So  saying,  he  gave  each  one.  Then  he  said:  "  ¥ou  are  free 
now.  You  need  not  guard  this  place  any  longer."  Thereupon  they 
ran  away. 

Hodadefion  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  l)eans  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  [ETn.ANN.a2 

Hodadeiion  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  Hodadeiion ;  kill  him  and  finish  his  family." 

The  three  sisters  saw  Hodadeiion  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,  strildng  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  disappeared 
into  the  ground.  She,  too,  striking  her  kneepan,  fell.  The  youngest 
sister  tried,  but  with  the  same  result,  and  then  the  old  woman.  All 
four  were  disabled,  while  Hodadefion  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  Hodadefion  was  playing  near  the  lodge,  he  cried 
out  suddenly  and  fell  to  the  ground  screaming.  His  sister  ran  to  him, 
asking,  "  What  is  the  matter  ?  Where  are  you  hurt  ?  "  "  Nowhere," 
he  answered.  "  Wliy  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  ho  • 
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  <Jry,  for  his  tears  are  wampum,  and  when  they  fall  the  peo- 
ple run  to  pick  them  up."  "  Well,  where  does  tobacco  grow  ?  "  asked 
Hodadefion.  "  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  gi'eat  wizard,  i.  e.,  Hotgongowa." 

That  night  Hodadefion  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 


CUKTI 
BE 


"J,'?;]  FICTION  209 


so  lu'iivv  tliJit  at  noon  he  liad  only  readied  the  edge  of  the  clearing 
where  their  lodge  was.  Sitting  down  there,  he  ate  his  lunch.  Yen- 
venfhwus,  who  was  watching  him  all  the  time.  said.  "Poor  brother. 
I  think  he  will  come  hack  soon."    She  looked  again,  but  he  was  gone. 

In  the  evening  lloiladenon  looked  for  a  hollow  tree  in  which  to 
spend  the  night.  Having  foiinil  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  tiie  tree,  the  man  called  out, ''  llodade- 
non,  are  you  here?  "  "  I  am."'  answered  Ilodadefion.  "  Well,"  asked 
the  stranger,  "  what  would  you  do  if  one  of  the  Ganiagwaihe  should 
come  to  eat  you  uji?"  "Oh,  I  should  have  fun  with  him."  said 
Hodadenon. 

The  other  went  away  and  soon  a  very  large  (ianiagwaihe  came. 
Pointing  his  arrow  at  it,  Hodadenon  shot  the  Ix'ar  in  the  neck.  Then 
awa}'  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 
u[)  by  the  roots  all  along  the  track  of  the  bear.  At  last  coming  to 
tlie  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,  jirepared  to  sleep.  But  early  in  the  night  he  heard  some 
one  come  up  to  the  trc«  and  say:  "Hodadenon,  you  are  now  here. 
What  would  you  do  if  a  S"liagodiyowe(]gowa  should  come  to  kill 
you  ^  "  "Oh  I  I  should  have  sport  with  him,'"  replied  Hodadenon. 
"  It  is  well,'"  the  other  returned,  going  away. 

\'ery  soon  a  S'hagodiyowe(|gowa,  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  jioint  where  he  found  the  S'hagodiyowef|gowa  l.ving  dead.  This 
being  had  a  face  of  most  terrifying  aspect.  Hodadenon,  remarking 
to  liiin.self.  "I  will  not  have  anything  to  do  with  a  creature  of  so 
malign  aspect,"  ilrew  out  his  ari-ow  from  the  body  and  went  on  his 
w:iy. 

During  that  day  Hodadenon  came  to  a  great  lake  on  the  farther 
side  of  whicii  was  a  village.  He  searched  until  he  found  an  oak 
l)utll)all.  which  he  placed  at  the  water's  edge.  Entering  this  ball,  he 
cau.sed  the  wind  to  blow  it  across  the  lake  to  the  village  on  the  o|iposite 
shore.  Hodadenon  went  through  this  village  without  stopi)in<:  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  irrand- 
94Cl.j°— 18 14 


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

son,  Hodadenon  said,  "  Well,  little  boy,  may  I  remain  with  you 
to-night?  "  The  boy  answered,  "  I  do  not  loiow.  I  will  speak  to  my 
gi-andmother."  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  Hodadeiion,  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  wliile  with  us."  Having 
received  this  message  from  the  little  boy,  Hodadenon  decided  to 
stay  there. 

The  next  morning  Hodadenon  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  Hodadeiion.  After 
going  a  long  distance  into  the  woods  they  found  a  large  hollow  tree 
frequented  by  a  bear.  Hodadenon  tapped  the  tree,  saying  to  the  occu- 
pant, "  Thou  who  dwellest  in  this  tree,  come  forth."  At  once  the 
bear  came  out,  whereupon  Hodadeiion  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,  "  "\\Tiat  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- 
denon 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 


HKwrr^]  FICTION  211 

gather  more  than  other  people,  it  is  your  good  fortune."  The  name 
of  the  herald  was  Hadyuswus.'"  lie  then  liiirried  on  to  tlio  other 
lodges. 

Toward  evening  of  the  ne.xt  day  Hodadenon,  with  the  old  woman 
and  her  grandson,  wont  to  the  Long  I^odge,  where  Hotgoondaqsais, 
tied  to  a  post,  was  heing  torinenlod  with  firehrantls.  Before  going 
into  the  assembly  hall  the  boys  gathered  a  bundle  of  dry  reeds  for 
the  purpose  of  lighting  the  {)ipes  of  tliose  who  de;^ired  to  smoke, 
llothulehon  then  said  to  his  young  companion,  "You  go  to  one  of 
the  fires  in  the  Long  Lodge  and  1  will  go  to  the  other."  Pa.ssing  into 
the  assembly  hall  they  found  that  there  were  already  many  people 
inside.  When  Ilotgoenda<isais  saw  Hodadenon  he  smiled  as  lie 
seemed  to  recall  him  to  his  mind.  One  of  the  old  women  saw  this 
and  said:  "The  bound  man  smiled  when  tiiese  boys  came  into  the 
room.  It  would  seem  that  one  of  them  is  Hodadenon.''  After  the 
old  woman  spoke  Ilotgoendacjsais  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  tiie 
men  who  were  smoking  continually  called  the  boys  to  bring  them  lire, 
and  the  boys  carried  the  torches  to  all. 

In  the  Long  Lodge  were  two  women  who  had  two  firelirands, 
and  it  was  they  who  took  the  lead  in  torturing  the  man.  First  one 
of  these  two  women  would  burn  Ilolgoendaqsais  on  one  side  from  one 
of  the  fires,  and  then  the  other  would  burn  him  on  tlie  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  i)eo])le  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- 
mis.'ied  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- 
denon 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  (hou.sehold)  to  be  present  in 
the  torture  chamber  that  evening;  then  he  hurried  away.  There- 
upon Hodadenon  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  de.stroy  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  numeaters  and  their  home.     In  the  evening 


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

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. 
AVhen  they  were  all  fast  asleep,  quickly  imbinding  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  thi-ough  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  liis  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,  "  AVe 
will  now  go  through  the  village  and  kill  all  the  children  of  the 
wizards  and  anyone  else  who  is  left  of  the  maneaters,  for  some  of 
them  may  not  have  been  present  in  the  Long  Lodge  last  night."  So, 
going  forth  they  killed  all  the  relations  of  the  maneaters  and  burned 
their  lodges. 

After  that  they  went  outside  of  the  village,  where  they  found  great 
piles  of  bones  which  once  belonged  to  persons  whom  the  wizards  had 
killed.  These  they  collected  near  a  great  hickory  tree.  When  all  had 
been  gathered  together,  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- 


CIRTIN 
IIKWITT 


]  FICTION  213 


fusion  of  the  iiioinciit  siifTiciont  chip  IkkI  not  been  taken  to  j)\it  to- 
fjetlier  the  bones  l)elonpinf;  to  tlie  same  persons,  lien'ce  one  had  an  arm 
too  sliort,  another  a  le<i;  but  IloiUidenon  went  aronml  anionj^  them 
stretching  and  arranging  these  defective  limbs.  Then  he  said  to  their 
possessors:  '"  I  iiave  now  brought  you  to  life  again.  ^ On  must  remain 
in  one  place  for  two  days  while  I  go  to  get  meat  foi'  you." 

So,  selecting  a  comfortable  spot,  they  patiently  waited,  llnda- 
denon  went  out  to  iiunt  and  killed  a  gicat  (|Uantity  of  game.  lie 
sent  men  to  bring  it  into  the  camp.  Tln'se  were  gone  all  day,  but 
they  brought  in  an  abundance  of  meat.  When  all  had  returned, 
Ilodailenon  said:  "Now,  my  brother  is  tired.  Stay  here  and  rest. 
I  must  go  away  for  a  short  time,  for  I  have  nuich  work  to  do." 

Thereupon  IIodadent)n  started  away.  .Vs  he  hurried  along  he  heard 
the  .sound,  "  Diini.  dum,  dinn  1  "  This,  he  knew,  was  caused  by  the 
man  whcse  name  was  Deagahgweoses.  in  making  tobacco,  which  he 
jjounded  with  a  mallet.  When  he  ariived  at  the  lodge  he  found  the 
old  man  sitting  inside  hammering  tobacco  and  singing.  lie  yaiuli/en- 
gonni  goycngwaijen  yens,  signifying  "  \\'hei-ever  one  makes  tobacco, 
one  posse.sses  tobacco  customarily."  .Vnd  when  the  tobacco  rolls 
were  i-eady  he  would  tie  them  with  baik  coids.  .Vddressing  him, 
Hotladeiion  said  several  times,  "'  Well,  uncle,  1  ha\e  come  to  your 
lodge,"  but  the  old  man  ga\c  bim  no  I'ecognition.  Then  Ilodade- 
non  struck  the  old  man  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  snuill  mallet 
wiiich  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  Ilodadenon  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  Ilodadenon  struck  him  still  another 
severe  blow,  whereupon  the  old  man  raised  his  upper  lids,  which 
hung  down  over  his  face  to  his  chin.  Carefidly  tying  them  back 
with  balk  cords,  he  sci-aped  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  Ilodadenon,  he  asked  him,  "For 
what  (In  \'iu  come  here  ^  What  do  you  want?"  Ilodadenon  re- 
plied. '■  1  have  come  for  tobacco."  The  old  man  refused  tobacco  to 
his  visitor,  saying.  "  ^'ou  w  ill  get  no  tobacco  here."  Then  starting 
up.  exclaiming,  "  I  will  kill  you!"  he  pursued  Ilodadenon  with  a 
large  club  out  of  doors  and  around  the  lodge,  ilodadenon  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  Deagalj- 
gweoses. 

Then  Ilodadenon  cast  into  the  air  toward  the  west  a  large  (juan- 
tity  of  tobacco,  saying  as  he  did  so.  "  (lO  ye  to  the  lodge  of  my  sister, 
Yenyentiiwus,"    Far  otl  in  the  west  Yenyenfhwus  picked  up  the  rolls 


214  SENECA   FICTIOlSr,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ann.32 

of  tobacco  which  fell  on  her  doorstep,  with  the  words.  "  I  thank  you, 
brother;  I  am  so  fhankful  to  you,  brother."  When  Hodadeiion  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,  Hodadenon,  halting  the  company,  said  to  them,  '*  You 
have  with  you  two  of  my  uncles,  who  can  show  you  the  rest  of 
the  way,  for  I  must  go  on  by  myself."  It  was  his  desire  to  go  on 
alone  and  thus  to  reach  home  first.  When  he  arrived  at  the  lodge  of 
his  sister,  he  told  her  that  he  had  brought  to  life  all  their  relatives 
wlio  had  been  captives,  and  that  he  had  also  saved  their  brother  from 
tlie  tortures  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." 

Hodadefion  thought  that  he  would  make  a  number  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  lai'ge  as  the  lodge  he  desired  to  stand  therein.  Then  he  wished 
for  the  lodge  with  suitable  provisions  and  wliatever  else  was  needed. 
As  soon  as  he  wished  it,  the  lodge  came  into  being  with  everything  in 
it  as  he  desired.  In  this  peculiar  way  he  made  a  long  row  of  lodges. 
He  made  his  own  lodge  also  in  the  same  way,  but  he  caused  it  to  be 
larger  than  any  of  the  others.  When  he  had  prepared  everything 
he  went  to  meet  the  people  who  were  coming.  Having  joined  them, 
he  brought  them  to  the  place  he  had  made  ready,  where  he  gave  each 
one  his  own  home.  Hodadefion  gave  each  of  his  relations  a  couch 
in  his  own  lodge;  but  there  were  not  people  enough  to  occupy  the 
place,  so  Hodadenon  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." 


CCKTl 
HEWITT 


^]  FICTIOX  215 


So  he  stni'ted.  and  as  lie  went  on  lie  lieanl  this  same  sound  from 
time  to  time.  Diiectiiiii  his  couise  towaid  the  spot  whence  came 
the  sound,  at  last  he  reached  the  edt^e  of  a  villajre.  Entering  the 
fiist  lodge  he  encountered,  he  met  nohody  thei-e.  lie  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.  Raising  himself  and  thiowing 
off  the  skin  mantles  which  covered  him.  the  old  man  said  to  lloda- 
denon:  "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  loom  yonder.  AVe  are  now  the  only  per- 
sons left  in  this  place."  ITodadenon,  going  to  the  room  indicated, 
said  to  the  young  woman  in  lliore:  "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 
j'oii  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  li-:"  nothing  left  of  us 
e-xcejit  our  heads.  You  mu-<l  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  mistidfe  me  for  him.  for  if  you  do  I  shall  be 
lo.st  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  tiie  legs  and  tliighs  of  the 
old  man.  There  he  stood  with  his  Hint  knife,  ready  to  cut  off 
more  fiesli,  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,  "  !M_v  friend,  you  agreed  when  we  parted  last  that  if  you 
would  eat  Iiuman  flesh  you  would  first  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  \Yoman 
heai'd  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  [eth.  ann.  32 

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 
inunediately  it  was  made  whole  and  well. 

"  Now,"  said  Hodadenon  to  his  two  companions.  "  I  want  your 
a.ssistance  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,  Hodadenon  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  the\'  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- 


^/--^]  FICTION  217 

form.  l)iit  (io  not  lot  Irm-  see  us;  so  pass  beneath  the  surfiifo  of  tlie 
ground  and  eint'i<:e  under  tlie  i)hitfoi'in."  The  mole.  ol)eyin<r.  took 
Hochuiefion,  who  had  reduced  his  size  by  ma<ric.  into  its  body  and. 
going  underneath  the  surface,  did  as  it  was  ordered.  It  emei-gcd 
very  neai'  the  ])lace  wheie  the  woman  was  passing  to  and  fro.  Com- 
ing out  of  (lie  body  of  the  mole,  llodadenon  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  llodadenon  called  on  the  moles  to  go  into  the  lodge  of 
the  four  women  to  discover  theii'  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  tiie 
four  women.  Seizing  them  at  oiue  he  fletl  out  of  the  lodge.  At  that 
moment  the  woman  on  watch  gave  the  alai'iii,  shouting,  "llodade- 
non has  cornel  Ho,  there!  "  The  mother  of  the  witches  screamed  to 
her  daughters:  "  Hurry  after  him  my  children  !  Kill  him  !  for  he  is 
the  last  of  the  family."  The  eldest  daughter  outfooted  the  othei-s 
ami,  as  she  wa.s  overtaking  llodadenon,  he  brui.sed  one  of  the 
he;irts  on  the  .sti'ing  and  she  fell  dead.  When  the  second  daughter 
i-ame  up.  he  bi'uised  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  u]i  to  him.  whereu]>on 
be  bruised  the  fourth  heart,  and  she.  too.  fell  lifeless.  When  the  four 
were  (load,  Hodadenon  ground  their  hearts  to  powder:  then  drag- 
ging the  bodies  to  the  lodge,  he  bui'ne<l  lodge,  bodies,  and  jiowdeivd 
hearts. 

Now,  the  woman  watch,  who  was  walking  to  and  fro  on  the  plat- 
form continually,  was  the  own  si.ster  of  Hodadenon.  At  this  time 
she  was  a  mere  pouch  of  hunuin  skin  for  her  bones  and  flesh  were 
wanting.  Near  this  platform  was  a  large  heap  of  bones  of  dead 
{>ersons.  Hodadenon  carried  these  bones  to  the  foot  of  a  very 
large  hickory  tiee,  and  npcm  the  ])ile  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  Hodadenon  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. 

Hodadei'ion  now  went  home  with  his  jiarents  and  sister  and 
friends.  AVhen  they  had  all  taken  their  places  it  was  seen  that  one 
of  their  numbei-  was  missing,  that  ther-e  was  still  a  vacant  place. 

The  ne.xt  mor-ning  they  found  that  they  wer-e  living  in  a  chestinit 
grove,  for  the  trees  were  standing  all  aroinid  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  clanger  of  death.  Keplying  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  lo.se  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  arrows,  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  clearing,  in  the  forest  ahead 
of  him.  AVhen  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  doortlap,  he  entered ; 
within  he  found  an  old  man  mending  moccasins. 

Eaising  his  head,  the  old  man  said:  "  W^ell,  nephew,  I  have  been 
looking  for  you  a  long  time.  I  knew  that  you  would  come.  I  am 
ready  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.  During  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."  Hodadenon  started  for  the  lower  end  of  the 
island,  but  in  a  short  time  he  heard  the  song  of  the  old  man.    Turn- 


CUKT 
HEW 


Jl^i]  FICTION  219 


ing  around,  he  saw  him  sailing  back  to  the  mainland.  Hodadeuon 
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." 

Wliile  standing  and  watcliinu  the  canoe  going  over  the  lake,  IIo- 
dadehon  heard  a  voice  near  him,  saying,  "  Oh,  my  nephew !  come 
to  me."  Hodadehon  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  Hodadehon.  Tlie 
bones,  answering,  said:  "There  is  a  nianeater.  a  cannil)al.  coming 
to-night  to  kill  you,  i)ut  do  me  a  favor,  and  I  will  tell  you  how  to 
save  yourself.  Go  to  that  gieat  tree  and  bring  me  my  pouch,  and  let 
me  smoke,  and  I  will  explain  all  to  you."  (loiug  after  the  jiouch.  as 
directed,  Hodadehon  brought  it  to  his  uncle:  tiien  cutting  u])  to- 
bacco, he  filled  the  pi])e  and  lighted  it  for  his  uncle.  \\'hen  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  Hodadehon  to  take  the 
pouch  back  to  the  place  whence  he  had  brought  it.  whereu])on  Hoda- 
dehon returned  it  to  tiie  i)iii'  of  bones.  Then  the  voice  from  the 
bones  said:  '"  "\'ou  nuist  go  now  to  cut  red  willows  for  material  for 
making  manikins  and  bows  and  ai-rows.  Run  from  here  to  various 
places  on  the  island;  put  tiie  m:\nikins  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.'  Wiien  you  iia\e  ])ut  \\p  a  number  of  these- come  back  to  me. 
Then  you  nnist  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  nuist  in- 
struct them  to  shoot  the  dogs;  after  doing  this,  you  must  retui-n  to 
me.  From  here  you  nuist  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  o])])osite  the  landing  place.  There  they 
can  not  find  you." 

Hodadehon  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,  Mhich  he  urged  at  once 
to  find  the  game,  Hodadehon,  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  [eth.  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  very  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,  wliicli  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  tlie  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  Hodadenon  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  nuinikin  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  arrow  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.  Finallj'  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  clul).  he 
pounded  the  bones  savagely. 

A  third  time  he  set  out  with  iiis  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. 


^^;^]  FICTION  221 

At  tliis  time  day  began  to  dawn.  Tlie  Ongwe  las  said  to  himself, 
"  I  shall  Co  home  now.  When  it  is  niplit  again  I  shall  return  and  I 
shall  he  sure  of  the  game."  So  bringing  his  dead  dogs  to  life  and 
taking  tiiem  into  his  canoe  he  sailed  away. 

llodadefion  in  his  hiding  place  heard  the  chasing  during  the  entire 
night,  the  barking  of  the  dogs  and  the  shouting  of  the  Ongvve  las; 
also  the  sounds  made  by  the  chib  striking  his  inicle,  the  bones.  When 
daylight  had  come  and  all  was  (|uiet  llodadefion,  emerging  from  his 
hiding  place,  returned  to  his  uncle,  who  welcomed  him  with  the 
words:  *' \\'ell.  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  tlicn  wliat  to  do  next."  llodadefion  (juickly  fetched  the  jiouch 
and  tilled  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  !iose  and  ear  ojienings.  The  uncle  said  to  his  nephew.  "I 
thank  you  for  this  smoke.  Now  take  the  ]ioucli  iiack,  and  when  you 
return  we  will  talk  over  our  troubles."  llodadefion  carefuilv  con- 
cealed the  pouch,  and  when  he  returned  to  his  uncle  he  was  i-eady  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  i'ury  yourself  in  the  sand,  leaving  only  the  tip  of 
your  no.se  out.  \\'!ien  Shagowenotha  lands  and  hurries  away  to  the 
opposite  side  of  tiie  island,  you  must  get  u|)  ([uickly  and  l)oai'd  the 
canoe  and  have  the  ducks  paildle  you  back  to  the  mainland.  So, 
nephew,  take  courage  and  you  will  win." 

While  llodadefion  was  covering  himself  he  heard  Shagowenotha 
singing  to  the  ducks  as  the\'  paddled  him  o\er  liie  water.  Soon  he 
heurd  the  canoe  ground  on  the  sandy  shore  and  a  voice  saying,  "I 
shall  now  go  to  the  i)lace  where  my  nephew  has  spilled  his  blood." 
Paying  strict  attention  to  the  ad\ice  of  his  uncle,  the  bones.  lloda- 
defion knew  exactly  what  to  do  next.  As  soon  as  Shagowenotha 
was  out  of  sight  llodadefion  arose  ([uickly.  and.  calling  the  ducks, 
he  pushed  the  canoe  back  into  tiie  water;  then  he  began  to  sing.  "  Now 
we  paddle,  my  ducks:  now  we  paddle,  my  duck,."  'Die  ducks  pad- 
dled so  swiftly  that  the  canoe  fairly  Hew  o\er  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  I  het  me  get 
alxiard  1  " 

llodadefion  hearil  but  paid  no  attention  to  this  entreaty;  on  the 
contrary,  turning  to  the  monsters  dwelling  in  tiie  depths  of  tiie  lake, 
he  said,  "If  Siiagowenotha  should  try  to  swim  after  me.  do  you 
devour  him."  Then  fr-om  the  watei-  came  a  confusion  of  voices  say- 
ing hoaiselv,  "  It  shall  be  done:  it  >iiall  be  done." 


222  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,  AND   MYTHS  (eth.  anx.  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  l)egan  at  once  to  chase  around  with  them  to  find  traces  of 
Hodadenon,  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  tauntingly  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  bod}^  and  cast  it  into  the  canoe,  after 
which  he  paddled  away. 

The  next  morning  Hodadenon  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  imtil  almost 
evening,  when  Hodadeiion  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  Hodadeiion  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  bark,  she  asked  him  to  step  on  that.  Then  she  put  the 
first  piece  before  the  second,  and  then  the  second  before  the  first,  and 
Hodadenon  kept  stepping  on  bark  until  at  last  he  reached  the  lodge 
without  leaving  a  single  track  on  the  ground.  When  they  were  in  the 
lodsje  Hodadenon  said  to  the  woman :  "  I  have  come  after  vou.  I  am 
your  brother.  What  will  you  do?"  She  replied.  "I  will  go  with 
you,  but  you  must  remain  here  until  midday  to-moi-row."  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."  There- 
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 : 


CCETIN, 


]  FICTION  223 


"That  is  too  much  to  say.     '^'uii  iiiiirht  as  well  kill  mo.     You  sliould 
not  talk  that  way.'" 

The  next  morning  Ongwe  las  said  :  ''  I  .'^hall  not  go  hunting  on  that 
island  again.  I  shall  go  to  the  other  side  of  the  country."  Then  he 
went  away,  nnich  to  the  relief  of  his  prisoners. 

After  he  had  been  gone  sonne  time  the  woman  said,  '"  He  must  be 
at  his  destination  by  this  time,  so  you  may  come  out."  liodadenon 
came  out  from  under  the  couch  and  went  with  the  woman  to  the  lake. 
There  he  raised  the  canoe;  getting  aboard,  the  two  jjaddled  away  as 
(luickly  as  possible.  When  they  had  reached  tiie  middle  of  the  lake 
they  suddenly  heard  Ongwe  las  shouting  to  them, '"  You  can  not  escape 
from  me !  You  can  not  escape  from  me  I  "  Kunning  into  the  lodge, 
he  seized  a  hook  and  line,  which  he  hurled  at  liodadenon,  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  liodadenon  to  break  the 
hook.  This  he  quickly  did  and  they  were  again  free:  thereupon 
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  (o  run  along  the  bottom  of  the  lake  toward  his  intended  vic- 
tims; but  at  the  moment  he  w-as  at  the  bottom  liodadenon  said,  "  Let 
there  be  ice  all  over  the  lake  so  thick  that  nothing* can  break  tl)rough 
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  tlie  l)low 
crushed  the  head  of  Ongwe  las,  so  that  ho  died. 

At  once  liodadenon  willed  that  the  ice  melt  away  as  I'apidly 
as  it  had  formed.  When  the  ice  was  gone  he  and  his  sister  jiaddled 
to  the  siiore.  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,  liodade- 
non took  his  sister  to  the  last  couch,  which  was  at  tlie  nortliwestern 
corner,  where  he  seated  her.  The  family  was  now  comjilete  and 
happy. 

42.  TiiK  Unci.k  and  His  Nkimikw 

An  uncle  and  his  nephew  lived  togetiier  in  a  bark  lodge  in  the 
woods.     The}'  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  bi-ouglit  home  jilonty  of  good  potatoes,  he 
gave  his  nephew  only  small,  poor  ones  to  eat. 


224  SENECA    FICTION.    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  Ietu.  ANN.  32 

The  nephew  wondered  why  tliey  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  u.s  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.  80  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,  coveied 
with  moss,  were  simmering  over  the  flames.  The  uncle  uncovered 
them,  jiicked  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  yo\ing 
man,  saying  to  himself,  "I  supi)ose  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  I  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:  tliey  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 
iind  begged  so  hard,  however,  that  iiis  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, 
llVr'tt."  Instantly  the  elder  brother,  junipijig  under  the  couch,  cov- 
ered himself. 

-Ml  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  I  where  is  he?"  cried  they.  "Your 
brother  I  where  is  he?"  said  one  of  the  women.  "I  have  oidy  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  I  you  little  rogue,  you  lie," 
.'<aid  tlie  woman.    "  If  I  should  lie.  that  is  mv  business."  answered  the 


CUKTIN, 
HEWITT 


]  FICIION-  225 


chill].    ••  Well,  we  will  let  \()U  off  this  time,  but  you  shall  suffer  if  you 
lie  again  to  us." 

Ill  the  excniim  when  the  ohl  uncle  came  home,  he  inquired  what  he 
had  i)een  doiniT-  "  lla\e  you  found  a  brcjther^"  he  asked.  "I  have 
no  brother,  have  I '(  "  asked  the  little  boy.  '•  Was  not  there  anyone  here 
to-day  r'  queried  the  uncle.  "'No."'  said  the  lad.  "Well,  wliat  did 
those  women  come  for^  I  heard  them."  said  the  uncle.  "There  was 
uo  one  here,"  said  the  child.    The  uncle  said  no  more. 

The  next  morninsr.  when  going  off  to  hunt,  the  uncle  said,  "  You 
would  better  go  out  of  doors  to  ])lay,  instead  of  turning  everything 
upside  down  in  the  lodge:  go  out  of  doors  to  play."  His  uncle  had 
scarcely  disa]")]H'ated  when  the  boy  ran  to  his  brother,  begging  him 
to  come  out.  until  at  last  lie  did  .so.  Again  they  amused  themselves; 
but  in  the  midst  of  the  dancing  the  elder  brother  heard  two  of  the 
women  coming.  '"  Xow,"  said  he,  "  I  must  go:  there  is  no  use  to  hide 
or  to  deny  that  I  am  here.  I  must  go."  I'resently  the  two  women 
arrived  in  their  canoe,  which,  grazing  tiie  top  of  the  lodge,  came  to 
the  giound.  The  elder  brother  got  into  the  canoe,  and  awiiy  they  went 
to  the  west. 

When  the  uncle  came  hoiue  at  nigiit  he  was  bowed  down  with 
grief,  for  he  knew  wiiat  iiad  hajipencHJ.  He  sat  down,  crying  bitterly. 
"Ohl  do  not  cry  so.  uncle."  said  his  little  nei)hew;  "do  not  cry;  I 
will  go  and  bi-ing  iiim  back."  Eunning  out  (juickly.  he  gathered  a 
lot  of  red-willow  twigs,  fiom  which  he  sci-ai)ed  the  i>ark.  On  throw- 
ing this  into  the  fiie  straightway  a  thick  coluuui  of  smoke  ro.se  and 
shot  off  toward  the  west.  Jumping  into  the  smoke,  the  boy  was 
borne  -.xwny  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  w-as  following  to  lescue  him.  One  of  the 
women  was  sitting  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe  i)addling,  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  w'ith  the  paddle,  crying  out :  "  !-^it  still !  do  not  look 
around."  As  she  struck-  him  he  turned  his  head  slightly,  so  as  to 
look  again:  he  saw  that  his  bi-othei\  on  noticing  the  Idow.  spransi: 
forward  and  jumi)ed  into  the  canoe,  shouting:  "Do  not  strike  mv 
brother."  Then  he  cried:  "Let  this  boat  turn  around  an<l  take  my 
brother  home."  Instantly  the  canoe,  turning  around  in  spite  of  all 
that  the  women  could  do.  sailed  back  fa.ster  than  it  had  come. 

xVs  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  wliat  he 

might  ask  in  payment  for  letting  his  brother  go  again.     Then  the 

94615°— 18 15 


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

young  woman  inquired :  "  Is  there  anything  we  might  give  to  induce 
you  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  their  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.  fringing  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  him.self 
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  brothei's.  "  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." 

When  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  him.self  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  hung  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  sistei's  were 
sittitig  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  the.y  will  let  us  in." 


--S]  MICTION  227 

When  till'  uld  woman  uanie  tu  the  Lon<^  Lodye  .she  asked  whether 
she  nii<iht  not  have  a  chance  to  get  some  \vami)iim.  They  asked  the 
cliief.  who  said,  "  Yes;  she  is  a  <rood  woman.  Let  her  liave  a  chance, 
too."'  "  }>l\  little  grandson  and  his  fi'iend."  said  the  old  woman, 
"will  come  in  and  eaii'v  lights  to  those  who  want  to  smoke."  "Oil, 
yes,"  sail!  the  chief.  "  let  the  little  hoys  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.  Pi-est>ntly  the  chief  gave  oi'ders  to  ai)|)ly 
the  Hrei)rands.  Thereupon  they  hurned  him  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other:  he  cried  bitterly,  aiul  as  the  teais  fell  they  tiii'ne<l  into 
wampum  beads,  falling  in  a  shower.  .Ml  the  ])eo|)le  ran  to  collect  the 
wam[)um,  and  the  old  grandmothei-  got  some  too.  .Vfter  the  man  had 
cried  a  while  they  rested  and  smoked."*  When  the  order  was  given  to 
begin  the  torture  a  .second  time,  the  little  bi'other  gave  one  moccasin  to 
his  friend  and  kept  the  othei-  himself.  .Vs  they  were  ai)out  to  begin 
the  burning  he  said  to  tiie  boy,  "  Now  .stick  your  foot  into  the  fire." 
When  he  did  so.  one  of  the  sistei-s  screamed,  as  though  in  the  agony 
of  death,  and  never  stopi)ed  until  the  boy  took  out  his  foot.  All  the 
people  wondered  w  hat  was  the  matter,  but  she  would  not  tell. 

Again,  as  they  wei-e  going  to  a]iply  the  fire  to  the  man.  the  little 
nephew  pnt  his  foot  into  the  tire  and  the  other  sistei-  screamed  in 
te^Tible  pain.  After  they  had  gotten  some  wampuui  aiwl  rested,  the 
boy  said,  "Let  them  all  sleep  soundly."  His  giandmother  and  the 
little  boy  went  outside  with  his  fi-iend,  and  the  grandmother  said,  too, 
'"Let  them  all  slee|)  .soundly."  \\'heii  all  were  asleej)  the  la<l  cut 
down  his  brother,  whom  he  took  outside:  then,  walking  around  the 
lodire.  he  said.  "  Ix't  this  lodge  be  turned  into  (lint  and  let  it  become 
red-hot."  At  once  this  came  to  pass  and  all  within  the  lodiZe  w(>re 
burned  up.  "Now."  said  the  Ixiy,  "I  thitd<  you  would  better  come 
home  with  me,  grandmother:  yon  would  be  a  good  wife  for  my 
nncle." 

All  wi>nt  to  the  uncle's  lodge,  where  they  found  him  crying  ff)r  his 
lost  ne])hew.  lie  had  been  tormented  by  fo.xes.  who  had  knocked  at 
the  dooi'.  saying.  "  A\'e  have  come,  uncle."  After  the  nejihews  and 
the  rest  of  the  company  ha<l  come  into  the  old  micle's  lodge,  a  fox 
who  did  not  know  of  the  new  ai-rivals  kiKx'ked  at  the  door,  saying, 
"Uncle,  I  have  come."  •' T.,et  him  in."  said  the  boy,  while  all  hid 
themselves.  t)n  coming  in  the  fo.\  ran  toward  the  fire  to  get  .nshes 
to  throw  into  the  old  man's  face,  but  the  boy  caught  him.  Saying, 
"Oh,  you  ras(\d  !  I  will  li.x  you  now,"  he  tieil  together  the  fo.\"s  fore- 
legs with  a  bark  rojie  and  hung  him  up:  thereupon  the  teai"s  came 
out  of  his  eyes,  his  face  and — [Here  the  story  ends  abruptly.] 


228  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etu.  ann.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  trying  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  wh}'.  saying,  '"While  hunting  I  often  asked  her  never  to  sleep 
in  the  daytime,  but  one  afternoon  on  returning  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,  (jetting 
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."  Boasting  the  snake  on  the  hot  coals  of  his  health  he 
ate  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. 


^,"/JS]  FICTION  229 

They  lived  in  this  way  until  the  woman  was  far  advanced  in 
pre<rnancy.  Then  Hinon  said  to  some  of  his  companions.  "It  is  now 
time  to  deliver  this  woman  to  her  mother.  Yon  must  take  her 
only  to  her  mother's  field."  So,  taking  her  to  the  field,  they  left  her. 
Soon  she  heard  some  one  cryin<r.  and  then  she  saw  her  mother.  The 
mother  was  frightened,  hut  she  stop])ed  ci-ying  and  called  out,  ''Are 
yon  in  your  natural  life^  "  Tiie  young  woman  assured  her  that  she 
was,  and  together  they  went  to  tlie  mother's  lodge.  Not  long  after 
her  arri\  al  there  the  young  woman  ga\e  hirth  to  a  hoy. 

When  the  boy  was  large  enough  to  run  around  they  often  heard 
Hinon  coming,  and  then  it  woidd  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.  anil  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  .\xo  tiik.  Raccoon 

The  chief  of  the  Crawfish  settlement  one  day  told  his  people  that 
he  was  going  about  to  iiis])('ct  things  and  to  see  if  tlie  Ongwe  las 
was  around. 

Starting  out.  lie  went  to  e\-ery  lodge :  he  found  that  every  one  was  in 
and  well.  On  his  way  liome,  as  he  was  walking  along  the  edge  of  the 
water  he  found  what  he  judged  to  be  the  l)ody  of  Ongwe  las.  "Oh! 
this  is  good  luck."  sai<l  he;  "  T  will  go  and  tell  all  the  peoi)le  to  come 
to  .see  Ongwe  las  lying  here  dead."  So  he  invited  all  to  t\n-n  out 
and  see  their  enemy,  whom  he  supposed  wa.s  dead. 

The  whole  nudtitude  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,  liut  he  did  not  move.  Then 
saying,  "We  will  sing  a  song  of  rejoicing."  they  formed  in  a  ciicle 
around  the  Ongwe  las  to  dance.  While  they  were  dancing  and  sing- 
ing, all  at  once  their  etiemy,  tlie  Ongwe  Tas,  springing  up.  ate  the 
wiiole  tribe  except  two  or  three  who  escaped.  The  Ongwe  las  knew 
the  fondne.ss  of  the  (^rawfi.sh  for  dead  meat  of  any  kind,  so  his  ruse 
was  successful  in  pi'o\  i<ling  liiui  with  a  meal. 

4").  Tin:  IJaci:  Hki\vi:i:n  riir  'i'l  ritk  axo  tht  Bkar 

There  was  once  an  old  man  going  aUmg  slowly  but  surely  by  him- 
self. After  traveling  some  distance  he  met  another  man.  who  asked 
him.  "  Where  are  you  going  ^ ''  "  Oh.  T  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. 
Thereuj)on  they  parted  company. 


230  SENECA   FICTION^   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.32 

Soon  the  old  man  met  another  person,  a  slender  young  man,  -who 
asked,  "  AVhere  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  lying  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  yon 
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 kind  of  person  tlirough  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  ea.st,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  You  will  never  get  there ;  you  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  gi-eat  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  tlie  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. 


m"v.rr]  FICTION  .  231 

Tln'ii  tlie  fat  man's  friends,  all  coming  out  of  the  water,  went  to  the 
startinf,'  plaro.  When  tlu-v  looked  at  the  dead  land  runner  they  said: 
"Oh.  what  a  fool!      Oh.  what  a  fool!  "" 

Now,  the  (lid  man.  the  water  rniiinT.  was  a  mud  turtle.  The  land 
runner  was  a  iiear,  i»ut  lie  had  been  a  fox  until  he  lost  his  tail  in  the 
ice.     I>ears  are  all  stub-tailed  since  the  fox  lost  his  tail  in  the  ice. 

•It).    Tin;  W'u.MAN   Who  Hkca.mk  a  Maneateh  Thkoloh   tiik  Okknda 

OF   11  Kit    ni:sHANL)".S   DoGS 

'I'licre  was  once  a  man  who,  in  company  with  his  wife  and  little 
dMii<;iitcr.  went  huiitiuir  in  a  distant  I'cgion.  Ha\  in<^  arrived  at  his 
destination,  the  man  i>uilt  a  hiush  lodge  in  the  woods.  Every  day  he 
went  in  pursuit  of  game. 

The  man  had  three  dogs,  who  wei'e  his  hiothers.  and  of  whom  he 
was  f(Mid.  He  shared  his  food  with  them  and  felt  bad  if  they  were 
ill-used.  When  lie  left  tjiem  at  home  he  always  told  his  wife  to  feed 
them  well  and  to  take  good  care  of  them,  but  in  spite  of  this  she  ai)Used 
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  wei-e  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  hu.sband  was  around 
the  woman  was  kind  to  the  dogs  in  order  to  deceive  him.  The  little 
dog.  however,  told  him  all  that  hap[)ened  in  the  loilge  while  he  was 
away  hunting. 

Now,  the  little  dog  was  fond  of  good  things;  so  one  night  he  said 
to  his  brothers,  "1  will  get  some  food  without  asking,  if  only  you 
will  hclji  me."  He  had  noticed  that  the  woman  ke]it  fo(jd  for  her- 
self, which  she  hid  undei-  the  skins  on  which  she  slept,  and  had  seen 
her  hide  there  a  skin  bag  of  I'oasted  corn.  He  said  further  to  his 
brothers,  "  Vou  are  large  and  sti'oug  and  can  get  it  w  hile  she  is 
aslee])."  "  X<i,"  said  the  large  dog;  "we  are  heavy  and  awkward, 
and  we  w<iuld  only  awaken  her:  but  you  are  light  and  small,  and  so 
can  111'  down  by  her  without  being  noticed."  "  \'ery  well;  1  will 
try,"  was  the  little  dog's  answer  to  this. 

So  at  midnight,  when  all  were  sound  asleep,  the  little  <l(ig.  making 
his  wav  to  the  bag  of  roasted  corn  liiddiMi  under  the  woman's  head, 
pulled  it  carefully  until  he  got  it  out.  The  large  dogs  had  drawn 
the  door  flap  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  in.stead  of  a  bag  of  corn : 
so  thev  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  [eth.  i.NN.  32 

niiist  retuin  it."  So.  taking  it  back,  the  little  dog  placed  it  with  the 
torn  side  down,  near  the  woman's  head.  The  next  nnn'ning  when  the 
woman  shook  the  skins  she  found  tlie  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  tliat.  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  around  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  cliild  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  3'our  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  lielieve  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 


Z^^l^]  FICTION  233 

dogs.  lie  wan  in  tlic  middle  of  the  stream  ■when  tlio  \vom;in  lenrhod 
till'  Iiaiik  and  called  out.  "  Voiir  flesh  is  mine.  I  am  goinir  to  eat  it." 
'J'hereupon  she  made  a  great  leap  with  the  intention  f>f  landing  on 
tiie  rait,  but  missing  it,  she  was  diowned.  After  the  fugitives  had 
crossed  the  river  and  had  given  thaidcs  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  ojiening  or  clearing  in  the  forest  they  saw 
near  by  a  wretched-looking  lodge,  and  the  little  dog  said,  "We  are 
going  there;  a  couple  cd"  poor  old  people  live  in  that  lodge."  On 
entering,  the  hunter  asked  the  old  man  of  the  lodge  whether  he  coulil 
stay  with  him  foi'  a  short  time.  The  old  nuin  answered:  ''It  is  difli- 
cult  to  grant  your  re(|uest.  \\'e  have  as  much  as  we  can  do  to  live 
ourselves."  "  It  is  true."  sai<l  the  man,  "you  are  very  jioor:  so  ai'e  we. 
I  am  iKJt  in  search  (d'  a  good  home.  I  am  looking  for  ])eople  in  my 
own  circumstances."  "  \'eiv  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  1  am  afraid  that  he  will  take 
your  life." 

Some  time  ](assed.  Kvery  night  the  old  man  would  s|)eud  a  long 
time  in  relating  the  liistoi-y  of  tlie  chief  and  the  people.  As  the 
visiting  man  was  a  gond  luinti'i'.  he  l>r<iuglit  in  much  game  and 
soon  the  old  mau's  lodge  was  full  of  meat.  After  a  while  the  old 
nuiri  said.  "  ^^'c  have  decideil  to  atlopt  you.  and  you  shall  l)e  one  of 
oui'  cliildreu." 

The  chief  knew  that  there  was  a  stranger  in  the  ])lace.  and  the 
old  man  said  :  "  lie  will  be  here  in  two  <hiys;  he  is  coming  to  see  who 
is  with  us.  He  will  tell  you  that  he  is  your  uncli,  and  will  challenge 
you  to  a  foot  i-ace.  ^  ou  must  ask  for  two  days'  time  for  preparation." 
'•  Very  well,"  said  the  man,  and  as  usual  he  started  off  to  hunt.  I  lis 
dog  .seemed  to  know  where  all  the  iicars  were.  A\'hen  he  had  killed 
as  numy  as  he  wanted  he  went  home.  The  old  uuin  said.  "The  chief 
has  been  here,  and  he  challenges  you  to  a  foot  race." 

When  tlie  time  canie  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  prejiarations."  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";  ami 
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  huiitei-  and  the  dog  were  very  ha])py.  for 
they  knew  that  their  little  bi-other  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  [eth.  ann.32 

pared  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  off  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:  '"'' Otoe!  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  dfig-man,  which  stuck  into  his  foot. 
While  the  dog-man  was  trying  to  pull  out  the  horn,  the  chief  pas-sed 
him,  calling,  "What  are  you  doing  there?  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  hiin  to  fall  to  the  ground. 
Then  the  dog-man  ran  ahead,  calling  out,  "  AVhy  do  you  not  get  up? 
You  can  not  sit  there  and  beat  me."  But  before  the  chief  could  pull 
out  the  horn,  the  dng-nian  had  passed  the  goal. 

When  the  old  man  came  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,  you  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  liall  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  unexpectedly, 
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 


^.■^^T;^]  fiction  235 

now  start."  "  Very  well :  I  shall  come  soori."  said  the  adojited  son. 
Then  the  little  dog  said.  "  I^et  it  be  om-  elde.'-t  brother  who  shall  take 
part  in  this  game."  So  the  man  removed  his  garments,  and  tiie  dog 
l)iit  them  on;  there  he  stood,  looicing  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.  \t 
last  he  saw  him  coming,  with  his  long  hair  tied  back;  he  carried 
his  club  well  and  looked  splentlid.  The  old  man,  supi)osing  it  was 
his  son,  said :  "  Now,  you  nnist  use  all  your  strength  and  nuist  not 
be  beaten."  The  dog-man  saw  that  his  antagonist  was  walking 
around  in  the  crowd,  with  a  \ery  proud  and  haughty  manner.  Tlie 
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.  AVhea  the  woi-d  was  given  the  players  came 
forward,  and  the  chief  said ;  "  T  will  take  my  place  on  this  side." 
"No;  you  shall  not,"  said  tiic  other;  "you  gave  the  challenge,  and  I 
will  choose  my  place."  The  chief  had  to  yield,  the  dog-man  ciioosing 
the  side  the  chief  wanted.  'I'hey  (hen  began  to  play.  "  Now,"  said 
the  little  dog  to  tlie  hunter  in  the  woods,  "  our  brother  has  liegun 
(he  game,  which  will  be  a  very  close  contest."  Soon  he  said:  "  Tiie 
chief's  ball  has  missed  the  goal;  they  play  well;  our  bnitlier 
has  caugiit  and  .sent  the  ball  back.  Oh  !  now  lie  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  iiaviug 
all  he  can  do.  ^^'e  may  be  lieaten.  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  sti-aight  games,  he  cauglit  tlie  chief 
by  the  hair  and  cut  his  head  off.  Many  of  the  people  thaidicd  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  slaugliter 
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  l)ut  a  shoi-t  time 
when  the  ball  player  came  in;  gi\ing  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  al)le  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  [ETU.  anx.  32 

moved  into  the  new  lodge.  All  the  old  chief's  things  had  been  left 
in  theii-  ])laces,  as  they  were  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  was  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  inmates  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  M'ith  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  (ianyadjigowa.  So  they  swam  across  the 
I'iver  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," 


cu 

mm- 


;^;'y       ■  .  FiCTiox  237 


said  Hoiij^ak;  "  do  not  pull  inc  back."  "  I  am  iiq^.  pulling  you  back," 
rojiliod  (ianyadjigowa ;  '"1  will  go  ;du'ad  if  you  like.  Wait  and  T 
will  ]);iss  you." 

When  Ganyadjigowa  got  ahead,  he  said,  "Now,  conic  on!" 
Hongak  cotdd  not  go.  for  he  was  unable  to  walk.  Ganyadjigowa 
went  on,  leaving  liini  behind.  The  path  grew  narrowei-  and  nar- 
rower until  he  came  to  a  place  where  thei'p  was  not  roniu  to  walk, 
and  he  thought.  "  IIow  am  I  to  get  by  these  rocks?  "  The  name  of 
this  place  was  lleiosdenoon  ("'  the  rocks  go  to  the  water  "). 

Here  (lanyadjigowa  resolved  to  go  back,  but  there  was  not  room 
to  turn  around.  Then  he  said,  "T  nmst  go  liackward."  After  a 
few  steps  in  this  way,  he  fell  into  the  watei-  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, 
"^^'hen  shall  I  get  home?"  It  was  soon  dark.  Finding  a  hollow 
tree,  he  crawled  into  it. 

Not  long  after  this  (ianyadjigowa  heard  footsteps  in  the  leaves 
outside.  Tiie  sound  stojiped  at  the  tree,  (lanyadjigowii  kejjt  very 
still.  A  voice  said,  "  Well,  you  are  sleeping  in  here?  "  "  Yes:  I  am," 
replied  Ganyadjigowa.  "  T  want  you  to  come  out  and  talk  with  me." 
was  the  cliallenge.  Ganyadjigowii  crawled  out.  There  stood  Hon- 
gak. the  num  he  had  left  behiiul.  "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  (Janyadji- 
gowa.  Hongak  said:  "  Xo.  Yon  iVu]  something  to  make  me  stoji. 
Look  at  my  back."  The  feathei's  weie  all  ofT  where  the  stone  hatl 
been  secui'ed. 

Now  Hongak  began  to  light  with  (ianyadjigowa,  who  soon  ran 
away,  for  he  did  not  want  to  light.  Speedily  o\ertaking  him,  Hon- 
gak began  to  light  again.  Ganyadjigowa  now  giew  angry.  They 
fought  till  dark  the  next  day.  "  Ijct  us  rest."  said  Ganyadjigowa. 
"Well,  you  stay  here:  T  will  be  back  to-morrow,"  said  Hongak.  As 
soon  as  Hongak  was  ont  of  sight  (ianyadjigowa  ran  away.  Coming 
to  a  ri\cr  he  decided  to  try  to  swim,  but  the  water  I'an  too  swiftly. 
He  was  carried  downstream  into  rough  water,  where  he  coidd  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  moining  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.  Rut  the  water  ran  so  fast 
that  it  carried  him  down  to  the  stone  where  (ianyadjigowa  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  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS.    AND    MYTHS  (eth.  as.v.  32 

away.  After  stniirgling  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  1  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  around  him;  he  had  rolled  off  his  couch  to  the  floor.  He 
said,  "  "l^liat  a  bad  dream  I  have  had  I  " 

Falling  asleep  again,  again  he  dreamed  of  the  same  creatui-es,  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.  "  \^Tlere  do  you  come 
from?  "  asked  the  old  man.  "I  came  from  the  Great  Lake,"  replied 
(lanyadjigowa.  "\Aliat  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.  "  AMiat  is  your  name?"  asked  the  old  man. 
"  My  name  is  Gan3'adjigowa,"  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. 


I'l^^l^i]  FICTION  239 

"  AVhat  is  your  nuine  ?  "  ci>nt  iniicil  i  lie  (iccupant  of  the  lodge.  "  (nin- 
yadjigowa,"  the  younij;  man  derlarod.  "  W'liat  is  yours?  "  (ianyad- 
jifXowa  asked  in  turn.  '"  I  am  called  Dajrwanoenyent,"  said  the  old 
m;uii.  Then  (ianyadjigowa  .said,  "  Will  you  let  lue  visit  you?  "  "  Oh, 
yes !  you  can  stay  with  nic  as  long  as  you  like,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I 
will  stay  sexeral  days."  saitl  the  visitor. 

One  morning  Dagwanoenyent  asked.  •"  Would  you  like  to  so  down 
to  see  my  servant ?  "  "  Yes:  I  siiouid  like  to  go."  said  (ianyadjigowa. 
They  soon  cauie  to  DjothowandoiTs  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  eome  and 
ehase  you  if  you  are  down  here  at  midday,"  said  the  old  man.  "  \'ery 
well,"'  said  (ianyadjigowa,  starting  aftei'  his  animals. 

Soon,  on  seeing  Dahdahwat ""  appi'oaehing,  (ianyadjigowa  tried  to 
hide,  but  he  could  find  no  place  of  concealment.  Dahdahwat  cha.sed 
him.  and,  seizing  him.  threw  him  down  and  began  to  bite  him. 
(ianyadjigowa  could  not  get  away.  He  ti'ied  so  hai'd  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  aliout  his  dreams. 
About  noon,  becoming  iningry,  he  said.  "I  nmst  take  my  canoe  and 
try  to  catch  some  fish."  He  went  far  out  into  the  lake,  kee])ing  a 
shai'p  lookout  for  fish.  Seeing  one.  he  jumped  overboard  aftei'  it, 
but  could  not  find  it.  On  seeing  anolliei  lie  dived  again — once 
more,  no  fish.  He  looked  down  again.  \'es:  there  it  was.  He 
looked  and  ioolced.  Then  he  found  that  there  was  a  fi.sh  on  the 
right  side  of  his  canoe,  the  shadow  of  which  was  visible  down  in 
the  water.  Ho  caught  the  fish,  and  after  eating  it  started  to  go  home, 
but  he  was  far  out  in  the  lake  antl  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,  (ioing 
near  it,  he  .stood  and  listened.  Theie  was  a  man  talking  in  the  hut, 
who  said:  "This  is  the  wa}'  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  (ianyadjigowa  would  come.  I 
cotdd  slunv  him  how  strong  magically  I  am.  He  thinks  he  is  the 
strongest  man  under  the  Blue  Sky."  (ianyadjigowa  thouglit,  "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.     (laasyendiet'ha"'   (for  this  was  the  name  of  the  old 


240  SEJs^ECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

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 
sti-ength  magically  than  anyone  else.  For  several  years  the  Duck 
jDeople  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?  "  "  Oh,  no,"  replied  the  strange  man.  "  Well, 
I  will  go.  I  thought  you  were  talking  about  me,"  repeated  Ganya- 
djigowa. 

Going  outside  the  hut,  Ganj'adjigowa  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  Gaasyendiefha.  "  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,  Gaasyendiefha  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.  Gaasyendiefha  said,  v  Why  do  you  come  here?  Why  do  you 
not  go  home?  "  "  Oh,  I  want  to  visit  you  until  to-mori'ow  morning," 
said  Ganyadjigowa.  "  Xo,  I  do  not  want  such  a  man  as  you  are 
around,"  declared  Gaasyendiefha.  "  I  will  not  trouble  you.  I  will 
not  chase  you,"  said  Ganyadjigowa.  "  Go  on  home !  I  do  not  like 
you.  You  ai'e  too  mean,"  Gaasyendiefha  declared.  Ganyadjigowa 
answered,  "  Oh,  no !  I  am  not."  Gaas3-endief  ha  said.  "  Well,  stay 
then ;  but  3'ou  niust  not  talk  to  me."    "  Very  well,"  said  Ganyadjigowa. 

Night  came.  Sitting  down  by  the  fire  with  his  pipe,  Gaasyendiefha 
put  coals  into  it  and  began  to  puff  clouds  of  smoke.  Ganyadjigowa 
said,  "How  do  you  get  tobacco?  "  Turning  around,  Gaasyendiefha 
looked  at  him.  "  Do  not  speak  to  me."  commanded  Gaasyendiefha. 
Soon  Ganyadjigowa  asked,  "Dues  it  taste  good?"  Gaasyendiefha 
did  not  answer,  but  kept  on  smoking.  Soon  afterward  Ganyadjigowa 
spoke  again,  saying,  "  How  strangely  the  smoke  is  rolling  around  the 
room."  Gaasyendiefha  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  (Janyadjigowa.  "I  will  be  quiet  now;  do  not  put 
me  out."     "  Verj'  well,"  said  Gaasyendiefha.  and  smoked  on. 

Ganyadjigowa  laughed.  After  a  while  he  said:  "I  want  to  ask 
you  a  question.  What  is  the  world  made  of?  "  Gaasyendiefha  turned 
around,  feeling  cross,  but  lie  did  not  answer.  Then  Ganyadjigowa 
continued,  "  Do  3'ou  believe  people  who  say  a  man  lives  up  in  the  Blue 


^li^i]  FICTION  241 

Sky?"  Gaasj-encliet'ha  looked  at  him  but  did  not  answer  and  kept 
on  smoking.  Then  (ianyadjigowa  said.  "Do  you  believe  this  world 
stands  on  the  Turtle's  back  {  ■'  Gaasyendiet'ha,  now  angry,  said, "  Did 
I  not  tell  you  not  to  talk  to  me'.  "  (ianyadjigowa  said,  "  Yes;  I  am 
going  to  be  <]uiet  now."  (iaasyendiefha  kept  on  smoking.  Then 
(ianyadjigowa  said,  "  Do  you  believe  Hawenniyo''^  made  the  things  of 
the  world?"'  There  was  no  answer,  (ianyadjigowa  spoke  again, 
saying,  "  AVell,  do  you  believe  the  old  folks  who  say  that  Dagwa- 
noenyent  is  still  alive?"  (laasyendiet'ha  said  nothing;  he  merely 
turned  and  looked  at  him,  then  he  tuined  back,  still  smoking.  Gan- 
yadjigowa  said  once  more,  "  Do  you  believe  the  old  folks  who  say  that 
wind  goes  everywhere?"  Gaasyendiet'ha  sprang  up,  saying,  "I  will 
throw  you  out.  I  told  you  not  to  talk  to  me."  Ganyadjigowa  said, 
'■  I  am  going  to  be  (juiet  now  ;  do  not  throw  me  out."  Believing  him, 
Gaasyeiidiefha  sat  down.  But  after  a  while  (ianyadjigowa  began 
once  more,  "  Well,  do  you  believe  the  old  i)eople  who  say  that  llinon 
makes  rain?"  He  received  no  answer.  Soon  again  he  asked,  ''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,  (iaasyendiefha  began  to  strike 
Ganyadjigowa.  who  begged  oil'  with  promises  to  be  quiet.  '"  No  I  get 
out  I  I  do  not  want  you  here,"  said  (jaasyendiet'ha.  (ianyadjigowa 
begged  hard,  (iaasyendiefha  became  cool  and  quiet  again,  (ian- 
ya(ljig()wa,  laughing,  said,  "'Whenever  I  say  anytliing  jieople  get 
cool."  In  the  middle  of  the  night  (ianyadjigowa  spoke  again.  While 
Gaasyendiet'ha  was  still  sitting  by  the  fire  .smoking,  he  asked, 
"  Do  }'ou  believe  old  folks  who  say  that  water  runs  day  and 
night?"  Gaasyendiet'ha  did  not  answer.  After  a  while  (ian- 
yadjigowa said,  "Do  you  beli-eve  that  trees  grow?"  (iaasyendiefha 
stood  up;  he  was  very  mad.  (ianyadjigowa  said,  "Oh,  do  not  be 
mad.  I  merely  want  to  know  things."  Gaasyendiet'ha  asked,  "Do 
you  believe  Ilawenniyo  is  alive?"  "No,"  replied  (ianyadjigowa. 
"  I  do,"  said  Gaasyendiet'ha.  "  Do  you  not  believe  he  made  the 
woods?"  (iaasyendiefha  asked.  "No;  Ilawenniyo  eloes  not  make 
anything  because  he  is  not  alive,"  declared  (ianyadjigowa.  "  Do  you 
not  believe  the  wind  goes  everywhere?  "  asked  (iaa.syendief  iia.  "  He 
goes  only  just  outside  of  my  person,"  said  (ianyadjigowa.  "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  (ianyadjigowa.  "Do  you  not 
believe  water  runs  all  the  time?"  (iaasyendiefha  persisted  in  ques- 
tioning. "Oh,  no,"  said  (ianyadjigowa;  "when  it  is  night,  water 
stops."  (iaa.syendief ha  said,  "Well,  what  do  you  believe?" 
94615°— 18 IG 


242  SEXECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [ErH.  ANN.  32 

Now,  (^anyadjigowa  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?  Yfju  have  to  die  before  I  do,"  declared 
'  Gaasyendiet'ha.  "  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."  Gaasyendiefha  still 
sat  by  the  fire  smoking.  Soon  Ganyadjigowa  said,  "Do  you  know 
anything  when  you  are  asleep?  "  No  answer.  Again  he  asked, 
"  What  would  you  do  if  Wind  should  come  here?  "  Flashing  up, 
Gaasyendiefha  said.  "  Now  go !  I  do  not  like  you."  Ganyadjigowa 
began  to  beg,  but  Gaasyendiefha,  seizing  him  by  the  hair,  pushed  him 
outside.  "Oh!  let  me  go  in.  I  will  stop  talking  now,"  pleaded 
Ganyadjigowa.  Gaasyendiefha  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.  Gaasyendiefha  began  to  follow.  Ganya- 
djigowa heard  somebody  coming.  Looking  back  and  seeing  Gaasyen- 
diefha, he  went  into  a  hollow  tree.  Gaasyendiefha  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.  Gaasyendiefha 
followed  again,  and  seeing  Ganyadjigowa,  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  I" — and  they  began  to 
dispute.  Gaasyendiefha  said  :  "  I  will  ask  you  a  question.  How  can 
you  make  Wind  blow  down  my  lodge?"  Ganyadjigowa  answered, 
"  Oh  I  I  do  not  know  how."  "  Well,  why  did  you  ask  the  question, 
'What  will  you  do  if  a  heavy  wind  blows  away  your  lodge?'" 
inquired  Gaasyendiefha.  "I  did  not  say  that."  declared  Ganyadji- 
gowa. "What  did  \'ou  say?"  demanded  Gaasyendiefha.  "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  I  "  asked 
Gaa.syendief  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  Gaasyendiefha.  "No;  the  Turtle  is  not  strong  enough  to 
keep  it  up,"  declared  (xanyadjigowa.  "How  is  it  kept  up?"  came 
the  question.  "  Oh  I  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,"  Gaasyendiefha  said.  "  Why,  that  is  just  what  I  believe," 
Ganyadjigowa  said.  "No:  it  is  different.  You  do  not  believe  as  I 
do."  declared  Gaasyendiefha.  "  Well,  do  you  know  what  I  believe?  " 
asked  Gaasyendiefha.  "  The  old  folks  used  to  say  that  you  believed 
the  earth  never  goes  into  the  water,"  was  Ganyadjigowa's  rejoinder. 


CrUTIN 
HEWITT 


;,]  FICTION  243 


(laasyendiel'liii  asked.  '•■\Vi'll.  do  you  believe  that  T  can  kill  you?" 
'•  Yes, yes  !  "said  (iaiiyadjifiowa.  wiiile  he  kept  backing  away.  Gaasy- 
eiidiefha  threatened,  "I  will  kill  you  now."  "What  have  I  done 
that  you  should  kill  me? ""  deuiaiided  (ianyadjiirowa.  '"  Von  told  me 
that  I  believe  the  earth  is  very  thick."  said  ( iaasyendief  ha.  luniiiig  to 
go  home.  (lanyadjigowa  kept  on  laughing,  and  said.  "  Tiiat  is  the 
kind  of  a  man  I  am."  Now.  Ciaasyendiefha.  on  hearing  this,  came 
back  (]uickly,  and  shaking  him.  threw  him  on  the  ground,  whereupon 
he  cried  out :  "  Oh,  my  friend  I  do  not  kill  me.  I  am  always  on  your 
side."  "Xo:  I  will  not  stop  until  I  kill  you."  said  (iaasyendict'ha. 
'J'hen  he  thought:  "  ^\'hy  do  I  kill  this  man?  Soon  Ilanisheonon 
will  come  around  and  punish  me  for  it."  so  he  let  (lanyadjigowa  go. 
(lanyadjigowa.  laugliing.  said.  "That  is  the  kind  of  a  man  T  am." 

Xow  Gaasyendietiia  grew  very  angry,  and  caught  him  by  the  neck, 
.saying,  "Go  far  away  west."  (Joing  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." Gaasyendiefha  heard  him.  and,  flying  through  the  air.  came 
to  the  spot  where  he  was  and  asked,  "  A\'hat  were  you  saying?" 
"Oh!  I  was  saying  what  a  nice  place  this  is."  replied  Ganyadjigowa. 

Gaasyendiefha  now  caused  Ganyadjigowa  to  become  S'hodieons- 
kon.  Then  Ganyadjigowa  traveled  north,  saying.  "  I  must  go  and  see 
where  my  fiiend  lives."  Seeing  a  great  rock  on  which  stood  a  lodge, 
he  thought,  "This  must  lie  the  place  I  dreamed  of."  He  went  to  a 
hut  near  by.  A  man  sat  there,  who  greeted  him  with.  "Where  do 
you  come  from?"  "I  come  from  the  (Jreat  Lake."  said  Ganyadji- 
gowa. Then  the  man  asked.  "  A\'hy  did  you  come  here?"  "  Oh  I  I 
was  lonely  at  home."  answered  ( ianyadjigowa.  "  \'ery  well:  what 
is  your  name  ?  "  he  was  asketl.  "  (ianyadjigowa."  he  rei)lieil.  "  What 
is  your  nami- ?  "  demanded  (ianyadjigowa.  "  Djothowandon."  was 
the  answer.  "Can  I  visit  you?"  he  was  asked.  "\o:  you  must  go 
to  mv  master  first,"  said  Djothowandon.  "  A\'here  does  he  live?" 
inquired  (ianyadjigowa.  "  \'>\i  will  see  his  lodge  on  a  great  rock 
not  far  from  here,"  was  the  old  man's  answer. 

On  reaching  the  rocjj  (ianyadjigowa  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  otT  west."  The  man 
turned,  and,  looking  at  (ianyadjigowa.  said.  "AVell,  who  are  you?" 
"  I  am  (ianyadjigowa,"  replied  the  visitor.  "  AVhat  is  your  name?  " 
asked  (ianyadjigowa.  "I  am  Dagwanoenyent."  replied  the  man. 
"Will  you  let  me  stay  with  you  a  few  days?"  asked  (ianyadjigowa. 
"Oh,  3'es!  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  I"    said    (ianyadjigowa.     They    wont    to 


244  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  a.\s.  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  jjeople  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  have  killed  S'hodieon- 
skon,"*  who  has  great  power  magically.  I  will  go  home  now."  "VVliile 
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  j'our  name?  "  said  Dahdahwat.  "  My  name  is  Djoiii- 
aik,"  replied  the  stranger.  "  What  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  savr 
how  Dahdaliwat  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?  "  Djofiiafk  answered:  "Do  not  say  that.  He  must  be 
near  by."  Ganyadjigowa  woidd  not  stop,  but  kept  scolding  and 
scolding,  getting  more  angry  all  the  time.    Djoniaik  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'liodieonskon  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'lio- 
dieonskon can  make  churlish  people  quiet."  "All  right,  I  will  go,"  an- 
swered the  young  man.    ^\'hen  he  came  down  from  the  rock  on  which 


.ctKTi.N,-|  1-icTiox  245 

Dagwmioc'iiyiiitV  lodge  was  built,  SiKJclit'unskon.  taking  hold  of  the 
rock,  tried  to  turn  it  oxer.  Dajiwanoenyent,  t'eelin<j:  his  lodge  move, 
declared,  "This  must  he  inv  friend  wiio  disturbs  me.""  (ianyadji- 
gowa  kept  at  woi  k-.  and  at  last  o\cr  went  tlie  lock,  bivakini;'  the  lodge 
to  pieces.  The  old  man.  wlio  was  wounded  on  the  head,  cried,  "Oh! 
my  dear  friend:  I  must  kill  him  now"";  and.  getting  up,  he  trietl  to 
iiin  after  him,  but  his  iiead  was  so  dizzy  that  he  soon  fell,  (lanyadji- 
gowa  came  around  tlie  rock',  and  seeing  the  old  man  with  blood  flow- 
ing from  his  head,  began  to  laugh,  saying:  "What  does  he  thinks 
Doe-s  he  not  know  tliat  I  am  stronger  magically  than  he  is? "'  IIa\  ing 
rolled  the  rock  over  on  Dagwancx'nyent,  he  went  on. 

When  he  came  to  the  ])lace  where  the  churlish  jieople  lived,  he  stood 
near  the  earth  lodge  in  which  they  all  dwelt,  thinking.  "I  will  loU 
this  lodge  over."  Taking  hold  of  tlie  end,  lie  lifted  it  iij).  The  peo- 
ple ran  out.  and.  seeing  a  man  standing  there  holding  up  the  end  of 
their  lodge,  they  began  to  bite  him.  Then  (Janyadjigowa  ran  with 
all  his  si)eed  to  get  outside  of  tlie  ciowd.  The  peoj^ie  pursued  iiiin, 
l)ut  he  escapeii.  "That  is  tlie  kind  of  ,i  man  1  am,"'  .'^'hodieonskon 
exclaimed. 

lie  walked  westward  until  nigiit.  when  lie  came  to  a  clilf.  De- 
Eceiuling  a  short  distance  on  one  side,  he  saw  a  hole  in  the  clilf  wall. 
"Somebody  seems  to  be  lixing  here."  thought  he:  "  1  will  go  in  and 
see."  Inside  he  found  a  large  looni  in  which  sat  an  old  man:  then 
anothei'  room,  and  another,  until  he  saw  si'\en.  "  \\'ell.""  asked 
(ianyadjigowa,  "what  are  you  folk  <loing  in  the  clilf  ^""  •■^\'hy  do 
you  want  to  know  ^  ""  they  (I(>nianded.  "Oh!  I  go  around  the  world 
to  make  all  (jiiiet  and  ha])i)y.""  said  the  young  man.  "  We  do  not 
belieAe  you.  and  we  do  not  want  you  here.""  they  continued.  These 
wei-e  all  biother.s — seven  Sigweont.  "  Do  you  believe  that  llani- 
sheonon  is  alive?''  asked  (ianyadjigowa.  "Oh,  no  I "  they  said. 
"  ^^'hat  do  you  believe'  "  the  young  man  inciuired.  "  \\'e  believe  that 
Ilanisheonon  is  Hayadagwennio.""^  Then  (ianyadjigowa  .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  Ilani- 
sheonon made  the  earth?"  asked  Ganyadjigowa.  "No;  we  beliexe 
that  Ilayadagwennio  made  the  world,"  they  replied.  "  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  anyone  living  covered  up  in  (he  earth?''  the  yoinig  man 
asked.  "No,"  was  the  response.  "Now  we  will  tell  yon  that  we  are 
the  fathers  of  Ilanisheonon,"  said  Sigweont.""  These  old  men  would 
not  believe  Ganyadjigowa,  who,  becoming  discouraged,  said,  "I  am 
going  away." 

\\'hile  turning  arouiul  (ianyadjigowa  .saw  a  lodge  in  the  woods. 
Disdis""  lived  here.  Hearing  a  thumping  noise  from  within.  Ganya- 
djigowa, looking  through  a  crack,  saw  an  old  man  who  had  a  thin 
piece  of  wood  into  which  he  w  as  pounding  something.    Then  he  would 


246  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

put  the  wooden  object  into  his  face.  '"  AA'ell.  I  have  never  seen  such  a 
man  as  tliat.  He  is  making  a  mask."'  thought  (lanyadjigowa.  "  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  goipg  into  the  spring  near  by,  Ganyadjigowa 
shook  his  wings  so  that  the  water  flew  high  and  came  back  just  to  the 
spot  wliere  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  tind  no  dry  place.  "  AVell,  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  I  am  trying 
to  fish,"  replied  Ganyadjigowa;  "when  I  get  the  water  away  it  will 
be  easy."  "  Get  out  I  "  said  the  old  man ;  "  that  is  my  spring.  If  you 
do  not  go  I  will  kill  you."  "  Oh !  I  am  not  afraid  of  you.  You  are 
too  old.  You  ai'e  not  strong  magically  now,"  was  the  young  man's 
answer.  "  Well,  I  can  kill  you  quickly."  retorted  the  old  man.  "  Xo; 
you  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 
young  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  moi-e  than  full."  asserted  the  young  man.  "  Oh !  the  water  goes 
into  the  ground  again  and  comes  out  in  the  springs,"  replied  the  old 
man.  "Oh  I  "  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  ?  "  "  Xo :  I  do 
not  think  so,"  .said  the  old  man.  Then  Ganyadjigowa  said:  "I  will 
give  you  another  question:  Do  you  believe  what  the  old  folk  say — 
that  they  went  all  over  the  world?"  "Oh,  no!"  answered  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.  "\A'hy  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  found  my  imcle.  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  I  just  want  to  see  you  to 


CURT 

HEW 


','.;!•]  FICTION'  247 


have  a  very  anuisinsjf  <x-mw  which  I  always  jtlay  when  anyone  comes 
to  visit  nie.  We  wa<,'ei-  our  necks.  I  liuve  sj^kMidid  canoes  made  of 
white  flint  with  which  to  race  on  llie  waters."  "Very  wcH,"  said 
(ianyadjijiowa,  "  tiiat  is  what  I  usetl  to  phiy  with."  The  old  man 
started  to  fret  tiie  canoes,  and  hrin<:in<r  tliein  all  out.  said.  "  Now. 
lake  your  choice."  Lookiii<^  cartd'ully  and  seeing  a  poor  old  canoe, 
(ianyadji<irowa  said.  "'I'liis  will  do  for  me."  "Oh,  pshaw!"  an- 
swered the  old  man:  "that  is  the  worst  one  1  have;  you  ousrht  to 
take  somethiiii!;  hetter.  I'hat  canoe  can  not  help  you.  It  will  lip 
over  when  you  sail  it.  "  This  was.  howe\er.  the  boat  jios.ses-sed  of  the 
greatest  power,  which  the  old  man  wanted  to  use  himself.  "  Well," 
said  the  old  man,  "let  us  p)  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.  I/<iii  oiun.  The  two  canoes  start^^l. 
(lanyadjigowa's  canoe  ha\  ing  the  greater  magic  power,  the  old  man 
was  left  behind.  When  ( ianyadjigowa  got  to  the  other  end  of  the 
lake  he  said.  "  AVhere  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.  "  Lei  us  rest  until  to-morrow."  After  a  while  (ian- 
yadjigowa pretended  to  go  to  sleep.  The  old  man  looking  at  him, 
said,  "He  is  asleep  now;"  so  getting  into  ( ianyadjigowa's  boat,  he 
said  to  it.  "  I  want  you  to  go  where  the  sun  goes  down."  (ianyadji- 
gowa heard  all.  The  boat  rushed  olf  through  the  air.  (ianyadji- 
gowa, getting  up,  looked  at  his  uni'le's  boat.  "  \A'hat  ;i  mean  boat  n)y 
uncle  has."  he  said,  then  exclaiming.  "I  want  you  to  go  where  my 
uncle  has  gone."  Tliereuiion  with  a  white  flint  stone  he  struck  the 
bow  of  the  boat.  The  canoe.  Upcoming  alive,  went  very  fast,  faster 
than  his  uncle  in  the  old  boat.  While  flying  (ianyadjigowa  com- 
menced his  song,  "  X((W  we  are  in  the  i-ace  of  my  uncle — Ontii  daon- 
dJyentadon  nhakn-osen.''^ 

In  a  little  while  he  saw  a  small  speck  ahead.  .Vs  he  drew  nearer, 
the  six'ck  became  larger  and  larger.  At  last  they  arrived  at  the  place 
where  the  sun  goes  down.  an<l  the  old  man  reaching  tiiere  first, 
(ianyadjigowa  said :  "  You  cheated  me.  1  am  going  to  cut  your  head 
off."  The  ohl  man  answered  :  "  Oh  !  I  have  not  cheated  you.  I  tried 
to  wake  you.  but  I  could  not.  so  1  let  it  go."  "  ^Vhy  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  i-eply.  "No;  I  think  you  tried  to  get  away 
from  me."  said  Ganyadjigowa.  "Xo:  I  was  going  back  soon,"  re- 
torte<l  the  old  man.  "Well,  let  us  go."  said  (ianyadjigowa.  "Very 
well,"  said  the  old  man.  Soon  they  went  back,  whereupon  (lanenaitha 
paid:  "Now  go  to  sleep.  I  want  you  to  stay  nntil  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  place  first,  Ganyadjigowa  looked  back — away  oS  was  a 
speck :  this  was  the  old  man  returning.  When  he  came  in  the  latter 
asked.  "  Do  you  know  what  this  lake  is  called?  "  "  Xo,"  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  ti'ees  he  heard 
some  one  saying  Hihi.  "  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?"  "AVhat  can 
you  call  me?  My  name  is  good  enough."  said  the  man.  "I  will  call 
you  Hihi."  Hihi  laughed,  for  he  was  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.  "  Wliy 
do  you  come  here,  then?  "  he  demanded.  Ganyadjigowa  answered, 
"What  would  you  do  if  the  rocks  should  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  you  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.  "  AVell, 
then,  what  did  you  ask  me?"  said  the  man.  "Nothing.  I  tell  you 
that  Hanisheonon  was  killed  last  night."  said  Ganyadjigowa.  Tlie 
man  began  to  cry.  He  cried  louder  and  louder  until  manv  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  j'ou  cry?  You  are 
free  now.  I  should  be  glad."  "  AVell.  I  am  not  glad."  said  the  man. 
"I  will  give  you  a  name,"  said  Ganyadjigowa;  "I  will  call  j'ou 
Genonsgwa  ("  Stone  Giant  "). 


,'ew,'t^]  fiction  249 


c 

HEW 


(iniiVMdjiirowa  started  off.  aftt'r  sayin<T  to  Genonsgwa  and  to  his 
peopk'.  "1  should  lie  glad  if  you  caught  nie."  The  Genousgwa,  who 
were  angry,  followed  him.  They  nui  hard  but  they  could  not  catch 
him.  Ganyadjigowa  began  to  lly.  going  up,  up,  up.  until  he  reached 
the  clouds.  There  he  .saw  ])eoi)le.  "Well,  who  are  living  here?  I 
never  before  heard  that  peoi)le  were  living  here,"  he  nursed.  Soon  a 
man  came  near  him  who  wore  beautiful,  downy  clothes.  lie  greeted 
Ganyailjigowa  with,  "Where  are  you  from?"  "From  below,"  was 
the  answer.  "How  did  you  come?"  was  the  next  question. 
"Through  the  air,"  was  the  response.  "I  suppose  you  firing  news?  " 
"No;  1  came  for  anursement."  said  Ganyadjigowa.  "  \\'hat  is  your 
name?"  he  was  asked.  "  (ianyadjigowa,"  he  replied.  "I  will  give 
you  a  name."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  num.  "1  will  call  you  Siiadah- 
geah.  This  place  where  you  live  is  sti'ange,"  declared  Ganyatljiguwa. 
"Yes;  1  can  see  all  over  the  world."  came  the  answer.  "Well,  how- 
can  I  see?"  said  Ganyadjigowa.  "Look  right  straight  down,"  the 
man  said,  (ianyadjigowa.  hniking  straight  down,  saw  all  over  the 
woild.  It  did  not  seem  far  down,  (ianyadjigowa  asked,  "Do  you 
knov>  the  man  who  lives  liy  the  sitle  of  the  lake  down  there?  He  is 
a  very  mean  man."  "  You  must  not  do  anything  to  that  nuin,"  re- 
sponded S'hadahgeah ; '"'  "he  has  great  orenda  (nuigic  power).  He 
is  chief  of  all  gods.  We  are  afraid  of  him.  You  must  g"  now.  Tli." 
\\'ind  is  coming.    It  will  kill  you  if  you  stay  here." 

'{'hereupon  (ianyadjigowa  went  straight  down.  Then  looking 
around,  he  saw  somebody  coming  out  of  the  grouiul.  (ioing  to  the 
s])ot,  he  said:  "What  are  you  doing  f  A\'hy  do  you  live  in  the 
grounds"  "Oh!  I  have  always  lived  there.  You  need  not  bother 
me,"  came  the  reply.  "1  will  not  bother  you,"  said  (ianyadjigowa; 
I  came  merely  to  ask  you  a  <iuestion:  Is  Hanisheonon  alive  ^  "  "No; 
llanisheonon  is,  I  think,  not  alive.  I  believe  Hanisheonon  is  mag- 
ically a  great  power."  said  the  man.  "Well,  do  you  know  where 
Hanisheonon  lives?"  in(iuired  (ianyadjigowa.  "Yes,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "Where  is  the  place?"  continued  (ianyadjigowa.  "Kight  in 
the  ground.  That  is  why  I  live  in  the  ground,"  said  the  man. 
"  \\'ell.  do  you  think  you  have  the  same  jiower  as  Hanisheonon?" 
he  was  asked.  "Oh.  no  1  "  he  replied.  "Can  you  kill  the  people?" 
igaiii  (lueried  (ianyadjigowa.  He  answered.  "Yes."  "Have  you 
a  name?"  asked  (ianyadjigowa.  "I  do  not  want  a  name."  he  said. 
"Well,  I  will  give  you  a  name  anyhow.  I  will  call  you  ()no(|gont- 
gowa."  '"=  said  the  young  man.  The  man  hung  down  his  head :  then, 
raising  it  again,  he  said,  "  Can  you  call  me  another  name?  "  "  Xo; 
that  is  the  name  that  suits  you  best.  You  are  bad-looking,"  said  (ian- 
yadjigowa. The  man  cried  (i.  c.,  buzzed) —he  was  a  winged  Djihons- 
ilomigwcn."'-'  "Well,"  said  Onocigontgowa,  "when  they  talk  about 
me.  they  shall  say  Onoqgontgowa." 


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

Traveling  on,  Ganyadjigowa  came  to  the  lodge  of  Gaasyendiet'ha, 
in  which  he  saw  an  old  man  asleep.  Ganyadjigowa  went  in.  The 
old  man,  waking  up,  began  to  sing,  "  Now  he  has  come."  Ganyadji- 
gowa thouglit,  ''  AVhy  does  he  sing  about  me  ?  "  Gaasyendiet'ha  said 
to  himself :  "  Oh  !  I  have  the  backache.  Why  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  mullet,  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.  "  AVell,  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?  Why  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  w'e  will  be  good  friends."  said  Ganyadjigowa. 
"Very  well;  sit  at  the  other  end  of  the  fire  and  be  cjuiet,"  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  (ianya- 
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- 
endiet'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  (xanyadjigowa'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. 


™;,?^]  FICTION  251 

Gaiiyadjiffowii  now  went  lioinc.  lie  was  proud  ami  said:  "1 
killed  the  old  inaii  who  was  called  so  powerful  magically.  I  must 
go  to-morrow  to  see  him."  Tiie  next  moi'iiing  he  went  to  (laasyen- 
(Iiet'ha's  lodge,  where  he  heard  singing.  "  \\'h:it  kind  of  man  is  he? 
I  thouglit  I  killed  him."  mu.sed  (ianyadjigowa.  The  song  I'an.  '' T 
shall  kill  (ianyad  jigiiwM  as  soon  as  I  see  him."  In  a  little  while  the 
old  man.  ceasing  his  song,  liegan  to  talk.  "Now  1  will  go  to  see 
(ianyadjigowa  and  kill  him."  Thereuixin  (ianyadjigowa  said. ''My 
grandfather  means  to  kill  me.  hut  I  will  liurn  his  lodge,"  and  piling 
up  a  great  (luantity  of  Inush.  he  set  the  lodge  on  fire.  The  hlaze 
mounted  very  high.  ( ia.isyi'iidiefha  >aid:  "I  believe  the  lodge  is 
burning.  I  think  (ianyadjigowa  is  doing  this.''  He  was  very  angry, 
and  sprang  through  the  fii-e.  The  first  thing  (xanyadjigowa  knew 
there  was  the  old  man.  who  asked,  "Why  did  you  make  this  fire?" 
"  Oh  I  I  did  not  make  it.  I  came  to  l)low  it  out,"  he  answered. 
Gaa.syendiet'ha  continued.  "  Who  made  it  ?  "  "  I  do  not  know.  I  have 
just  come,"  said  (ianyadjigowa.  They  kept  on  talking,  but  the  old 
man  did  not  believe  (ianyadjigowa  and  ])ounded  him  to  death. 
Thereupon  Gaasyendiefha  whoo[)ed :  "'i'liat  is  the  kind  of  a  man  1 
am.  I  am  the  most  iK)w<'rful  man  under  the  blue  sky  because  I 
have  the  most  powerful  orenda."  The  people  all  over  the  world, 
hearing  his  outoiy,  exclaimed,  "  (ianyadjigowa  is  dead  !  " 

48.  Hadi'.nt'iikni  .xnd  Il.\M(;uN(u:Ni).vrii.\ '"' 

In  old  times  two  young  men  living  in  a  \  illagc  wei-e  gi-eat  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  lirst  was  evergreens  and 
lichens.  Having  made  bows  and  arrows,  they  killed  small  birds. 
The  young  men  were  at  this  time  about  20  years  old.  Aftei-  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  thi-ough  this  rough  place,"  but  his  companion 
would  encourage  him,  and  on  they  would  go. 

One  day  about  noon  they  came  to  a  huge  hemlock  tree.  "  (^limb 
U])  and  look  arountl."  said  one:  "  See  if  there  are  any  people  in  sight." 
The  limbs  of  the  tree  came  almost  to  the  gi'ound.  hence  he  climbed  it 
easily.  From  the  top  he  saw  a  beautiful  trail  leading  from  the 
tree  through  the  air.  lie  called  to  his  companion.  "Thiow  down 
your  bow  and  arrow.■^  and  come  up  to  see  what  a'splendid  ti'ail   I 


252  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

have  found."  The  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 
the3'  wei-e  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  ver}'  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  they  ga\'e  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  lind 
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.  Vou  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  stay,  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,  sajnng,  "  I  go  under  the  earth  and  come 
out  in  the  east,  and  when  you  reach  the  next  lodge  you  must  stop." 

They  parted,  and  the  two  men  soon  came  to  the  second  lodge. 
One  said  to  the  other,  "  AVe  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  you  return, 


lEwrr^]  FICTION  253 


stop  and  I  will  j^ivo  tou  iiiori".  It  is  I  wlioin  people  down  liclow 
call  the  Moon."  A\'h('ii  they  entei'od  iiei'  lod<j;e,  she  was  sowing 
skins.  She  contiiiiieil :  "It  is  the  or<ler  of  llawenniyo  that  I  make 
light  i'or  jH'oplc  on  the  earth,  so  that  they  ean  see  at  night.  It  is 
only  at  certain  times  that  you  see  me  comijletely.  I  tell  you  now 
that  you  nuist  he  on  your  guard,  for  the  i)ath  before  you  is  full  of 
danger  and  dillieulties.  ^'ou  nuist  he  l)ra\e  and  must  never  look  at 
anything  not  in  your  path,  for  your  enemy  is  outside  of  it:  never 
heed  anything  you  see  or  heai'.  for  if  you  do,  you  ai'e  lost.  You 
will  soon  pass  this  danger(Mis  path,  hut  reniemlier  my  advice." 

As  the  young  men  traveled  on  they  saw  all  kinds  of  fi-iiit  and  game. 
The  first  would  eall  out. ""'"  Stop  !  eome  antl  eat;  this  is  very  good." 
But  keeping  in  mind  the  old  woman's  words,  they  paid  no  heed. 
Each  fruit  h;id  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. 
■'  Perha])s  we  are  out  of  troubl(>  now;  we  shall  soon  come  to  the  lodge 
where  the  old  woman  told  us  to  stop.'' 

After  passing  the  lii'st  i)hi(e  they  came  to  another.  The  first  fruit 
was  full  of  witchcraft  or  emliantmcnt :  if  they  had  eaten  of  it.  they 
would  have  become  bewitciied.  At  tlie  second  jilace.  howe\ei-.  after 
eating  jdums  and  hucklel)ei'ries  they  felt  refreshed.  The  old  woman 
had  told  them  that  aiiiuuds  were  numerous  along  their  path,  but  they 
passed  these  without  haim. 

After  a  while  they  saw  another  lodge  in  the  distaiu-e.  whereupon 
one  of  the  young  nuMi  said:  "  We  are  now  in  the  i)lace  where  we  shall 
meet  the  greatest  difficulty.  We  have  no  idea  of  our  own  except  to 
follow  the  advice  g'ven;  since  we  have  set  out  to  come  and  ai-e  here, 
we  must  eiulure  what  we  meet."'  They  talked  in  this  way  until  they 
came  to  the  hxlge.  Finding  a  man  who  called  himself  their  uncle. 
ihey  saluted  him.  He  said:  "T  am  glad  that  your  brothei'  has  sent 
you.  You  are  going  to  a  lai'ge  assemi)ly,  but  you  can  not  join  it 
unless  I  transform  you."  ""  ( )iu>  of  the  young  men  i'es])onded  :  "  How 
so?  "W'e  are  men.  Why  should  we  be  transformed^  ^^'e  have  come 
here  in  our  projjei-  foi-ms.  Why  should  we  change?"'  '' "^'ou  have 
come  here  as  you  are.  init  it  is  my  duty  to  jirejiare  you  to  enter  the 
assembly  of  this  up])er  world.''  i'e])lied  tlH>  man. 

The  other  young  man.  looking  steadfastly  at  his  uncle,  was  not 
frightened  nor  discouraged.  The  old  man.  going  to  anotiier  jiart 
of  the  lodge,  brought  a  long  strip  of  bai'k.  which  he  laid  out  length- 
wise, saying.  "The  (iist  that  cauu'  shall  be  transformed  first."  There- 
upon he  called  him  to  come  and  lie  on  the  bark.  AVhen  the  latter 
had  done  .so.  the  man  asked.  "Ai-e  you  ready?"  "Yes."  was  the 
young  man's  rejily.  \t  that  moment  the  luicle  blew  through  his  haiul 
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  SKXECA    FICTIOV,   LEGENDS,   AXD    MYTHS  fETir:  ANN.  32 

uncle  se]iaratecl  the  parts  of  every  bone,  and  after  wiping  them,  put 
them  aside,  cleaned:  and  he  thought,  '"My  luck  is  hard.  I  am  alone 
here ;  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  j'et  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  l>e  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  submit, 
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  uncleanness  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  otl'  a  long  distance,  becoming  a 
beautiful  young  maii.  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;  mj-  nephew  is  going  to  kill  you.''  The  deer  sprang  oS,  but 
had  made  only  a  few  bounds  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  ofl",  but  the 
young  man,  soon  overtaking  it.  brought  the  animal  to  the  old  man, 
w1k»  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  as.sembly.  He  who  has  charge  of  it  is  the  .same  per.son  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  man}'  voices,  which  increased  continually.     The 


n^Ti^i]  FICTIOIT  255 

man  said  :  "  It  is  the  sound  of  mirth  from  the  assembly-"  AVhen  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 
bi'others  are  there,  too:  but  you  can  not  go  into  their  lodge.  ^  ou 
liavc  not  died""*  yet.  so  you  must  pass  through  the  same  change  as 
they  have  done  in  order  to  eiiti'r  their  dwellings."  As  they  went  along 
they  felt  a  great  desire  to  go  in  Imt  knew  they  woidd  not  be  ad- 
mitted. They  inhaled  the  odor  of  cNci-y  flower  on  their  path.  After 
a  while  their  guide  pointed  to  a  Ijong  Lodge,  saying:  ''That  is  the 
lodge  of  Ilawenniyo,'""  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,  wiiich  was  built  with  very  low  walls,  was 
hung  inside  with  bougiis,  which  gave  out  a  delightful  odor.  As  the 
air  moved  a  perfume  came  from  the  flowers  and  herbs  \tithin.  On  en- 
tering they  saw  a  great  many  people  who  had  come  to  praise  Ilawen- 
niyo  and  to  have  part  in  the  (ireen  Coin  dance.  These  jH'oj)le  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  iiigh  place  what  things  were  to  be 
done.  The  guide  said  :  "  This  is  the  one  whom  you  call  Hawenniyo." 
The  yoimg  men  looked  on  with  great  wonder  to  sec  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.  A\'hen  you  reach  liome  you  shall 
tell  your  people  what  you  have  seen  since  I  first  met  j-ou.'"""  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  the  Sun's  lodge,  the  Sun 
said:  "You  are  going  home  now.  It  is  I  who  cau.sed  you  to  come 
hither.  You  have  been  traveling  10  days.  What  we  call  one  day 
here  is  a  year  in  the  othei-  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  tlie  hemlock  tree  from  which  the  trail  began, 
where  they  foimd  thcii-  bows  and  arrows  sticking  in  the  ground,  cov- 
ered with  moss.  As  the  Sun  took  them  in  his  hand  he  wipeil  off  the 
moss,  and  inunediately  they  were  as  new  as  if  just  made.  He  said 
that  the  peojjle  of  the  place  where  the.se  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.32 

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  tliat  time  until  the  settlement  moved.  If  he  gives  you  no  in- 
formation, go  to  the  next  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  ne.xt 
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  cliildren."     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  where  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  return  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 


ZT,^i]  FICTION  257 

started  out.  and  on  coinin<;  to  a  certain  spot  he  called,  Go'tref  Go'we! 
and  continued  to  call  thu.s  until  he  reached  the  end  of  the  village. 

Soon  all  the  people  assembled,  whereupon  the  chief  went  to  the 
two  stranujers.  Entering  the  old  wonian'.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  dilferent 
kind  of  people.  1  hej'  did  not  recognize  them.  The  chief  said: 
"These  men  are  here  with  messages.  Whence  they  have  come  no 
one  knows,  for  we  ai'e  not  aware  of  any  people  living  in  the  world 
but  ourselves  ''  (this  was  true,  for  they  did  not  know  that  other  peojde 
existed,  and  therefore  were  sui-prised).  The  chief  having  sat  down, 
one  of  the  men  rising,  saifl,  "  Listen  all."  (lie  was  the  one  first  trans- 
formed, had  been  first  in  all  things,  afterward,  and  so  was  now  fir.st 
to  speak.)  After  thanking  the  pt'o[)le  for  assembling,  he  said:  "I 
wish  to  ask  you  a  question.  Did  you,  while  li\ing  in  tlu>  old  village, 
lose  two  young  men  ^  "  Then  he  sat  down.  An  old  woman,  rising, 
replied:  "I  will  answer  that  (]uestion.  Two  young  men,  despised 
and  shunned  by  all,  disappeared  and  have  not  iiecu  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:  '"  ^^'e  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  tliro\igh  your 
wickedness  that  you  left  your  old  homes.  You  are  like  animals  of 
the  foiest;  when  their  young  are  old  enough  they  are  left  to  them- 
selves. As  soon  as  we  were  large  enough,  we  were  left  alone  and 
desolate.  The  Inrds  build  homes  for  theii-  children  but  soon  leave 
them:  you  will  sec  that  whenever  the  young  bird  meets  the  mother  it 
will  flutter  its  wings,  but  the  mother  i)asses  it  by.  AYe,  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?  Y'ill  it  be  customary  hereafter 
to  desert  homeless  children?"  (It  a]i]ieaied  that  the  two  wanted 
to  be  received  into  the  gens.)  His  companion,  having  listened  to 
his  speech,  said:  "  L(>t  this  be  tlie  starting  point.  AA'hcne\ei-  a  ])oor 
family  are  rearing  children  and  the  parents  die,  never  foi'sake  them." 
The  men  then  told  all  their  adventures  to  the  great  assembly;  that 
they  had  visited  the  Long  Lodge  ami  had  .seen  Ilawenniio;  that  they 
had  been  directed  to  describe  to  tlu'ir  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  3'oinig  man  was  to  sing  the  songs  he 
had  heard  in  the  ujiper  world,  while  the  other  was  to  teach  the  people 
94G1.5°— IS 17 


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

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  tlie  meaning  of  everything  touching  Hawenniyo. 
The  transformed  said  further,  "  Let  it  be  that  whatever  was  done 
in  the  upper  world  shall  be  done  down  here."  So  they  danced,  and 
the  people  adopted  the  rules  laid  down  for  them  at  this  time.  Thus 
their  religion  was  formed  and  tlie  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  himt. 
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  cliff,  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  they  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 
througli  the  first  opening,  then  through  a  second.  In  the  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  j'our  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  maj'  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  jou.  we  shall  all  die.     We  have  tried  many 


?,':^;,^;Tf^]  FICTION  259 

tinu'S  to  destroy  this  Ganiagwaiheg^owa,  hut  lie  is  so  filled  with  magic 
l)o\ver  that  we  can  not  kill  him.  ^[y  advice  is  this:  'Go  home  and 
make  some  basswood  manikins;  your  friend  iias  returned  to  camp 
and  will  help  you.  When  the  manikins  are  finished,  put  them  at 
the  door  in  front  of  youi'  brush  hxlire.  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.  (laniagwai- 
hegowa's  life  is  assailable  only  in  the  soles  of  his  feet.  \\'iien  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  vou  can,  for  there  only  will  a  shot  take 
effect.' " 

Going  back  to  camp,  the  man  cut  down  a  basswood  tree,  from 
whi<-h.  with  the  aid  of  his  friend,  he  made  two  maiiilcins,  obeying 
the  old  man  in  everything.  They  sat  in  their  i)rush  lodge  until  noon 
the  next  day.  Then  they  heard  Ganiagwaihegowa  roaring  far  olF  in 
the  ravine,  whereupon  they  grew  weak,  (iadjiqsa '"  had  told  them 
to  keep  on  the  leeward  of  Ganiagwaihegowa  so  (liat  he  might  iifit  scent 
them.  They  were  fi-ightened  but  said:  '•  AVe  can  not  run  away;  we 
can  not  escajx',  as  the  only  chance  we  ha\e  for  our  li\es  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  loojied  fi'ightful. 
Wlienever  he  came  to  a  tree,  he  woidd  jumji  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 
I  lie  ground.  When,  however,  he  passed  (heir  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 
i!iiiiio  over  the  second  log.  the  othei'  man  shot  him  thi'oiigh  tli(>  other 
I'nol,  'riic  ])aiii  uKide  ( iauiagwailicgowa  rage  fearfully,  lie  bit  (he 
manikins  through  the  body:  then,  turning,  he  went  througli  the 
lodge,  tearing  it  to  fi'agmeiits,  but  a  li((le  fai'ther  oti  he  fell  dead. 
Coming  out  from  (heir  hiding  place,  the  men  cut  oif  his  hhid  legs, 
(iadjiqsa  had  said  that  if  they  failed  to  do  this,  Ganiagwaihegowa 
woLild  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  quai'ters  into  pieces,  which  they  burned  to  ashes 
together  with  all  the  bones,  for  the  old  man  (iadji(isa  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  thoroughlj' 
over  a  fire,  otherwise  it  will  retain  life  and  become  (laniagwai- 
liegdwa  himself  again."  The  youths  did  exactly  as  they  had  been 
told. 


260  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  Ieth.  axx.  35 

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 
b«ar  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  destroj-ed  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  ])eople.  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  journey'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  people  down  under 
the  hill;  they  are  Stone  Coats,  who  intend  to  destroy  us.  We  must 
get  out  of  their  wa}-."  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  coidd  that  night.  Soon  they  heard 
the  sound  of  the  approach  of  the  Stone  Coats — the  noise  w-as  like 
thunder.  It  was  evident  that  they  traveled  faster  than  the  two  men, 
for  when  thev  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  surely  die, 
but  do  not  die  without  a  struggle."  Returning,  he  reached  his  com- 
rade that  day,  so  fast  could  he  run.  The  comrade  said,  "  I  shall  stay 
near  tlie  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,  "  Xo  one  nuist  go  far;  if  he  does  and  is  away, 
he  will  lose  his  share  of  the  feast,"    The  two  men  were  listening  and 


lIKWriT 


•]  FICTION  '201 


heard  wliat  the  chief  said.  They  could  devise  no  way  of  saving 
tiieniselves  or  tiieir  people.  The  |)eo])le  in  the  settlement,  bewildered 
witli  IViyht,  ran  from  place  to  ])lace.  not  kiiowmir  what  to  do.  The 
Stone  Coats  were  near  the  village,  when  the  chief  said,  "  J^et  us  halt 
and  rest  a  little." 

The  two  friends  s;it  on  the  hank  (d'  tlie  ri\er.  on  the  lei'\\aiil  side 
so  that  they  could  not  be  scentetl.  .Vll  at  once  they  saw  a  man 
with  a  smiling  face.  AVhen  he  came  u]),  he  said:  "T  will  help  you; 
]  will  save  your  i)eople.  I  will  c(iii(|ui'r  tlu>  Stone  Coats,  for  Ilaweii- 
niyo  has  sent  me  to  aid  you.  1  will  go  alone  and  light  for  your 
people."'  Telling  the  i)eople  who  were  running  for  their  li\es  not 
to  be  afraid  if  they  heard  a  fright  fid  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  ilesperate 
battle,  and  the  two  men.  wlm  had  been  conmunided  not  to  move,  but 
to  sit  and  listen,  could  see  steam  rising  above  the  hill  from  the  sweat 
of  the  Stone  Coats."''  'I'lien  the  somids  came  only  at  intervals  and 
were  not  so  loud,  and  linally  they  ceased  altogether.  The  watchers 
saw  the  stranger  with  the  smiling  face  coining  up  the  hill.  lie  said: 
"I  am  thaidiful  that  1  have  destroyed  them.  The  Stone  Coats  are 
all  dead,  and  the  pcoi)le  now  alixc  will  live  in  jjeace.  I  am  ap- 
ptvnted  by  Ilawenniyo  to  open  the  way  and  the  paths  to  his  i)eo- 
ple  on  eailh.  Wherever  there  is  sorcery  among  your  ]3eople.  I  am 
always  sent  against  it.  A\'e  ai-e  suie  to  kill  all  we  i)nrsue.  If  a  witch 
crawls  into  a  tree,  we  shoot  the  ti'ee  until  it  opens  and  the  witchcraft 
comes  out.  It  is  I  whom  you  always  hear  called  Lightning  or 
Hinon,"  i.  e..  Thunder. 

He  left  them,  wheieupon  the  two  men  went  to  the  place  where 
the  Stone  Coat  arm}'  had  been.  Oidy  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  njiper  woi-ld. 

49.  Daow.anokn VKN-r 

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 
rhe  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  lea\e  to  go  with  them,  hut  no  one  would  let  him  ijo. 
for  the}'  considered  him  foolish,  and  hence  unlucky. 


262  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  S2 

After  all  had  left,  a  young  woman,  who  took  pity  on  him,  went 
to  him  and  said,  "  Let  us  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  lie  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  two  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  ]iieces.  Now  we  are  going  to  die  for  that  feather.  I 
want  you  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 
j)anther  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 
while  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  cha.^ed  them.  Then  the  panther  told 
the  man  that  she  knew  he  was  poor  and  that  no  man  would  hunt 
with  him,  adding,  "  Now,  I  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  shamnn  and  his  nephew  dwelt  together  in 
a  lodge  in  the  forest. 

One  day,  when  the  nephew  had  grown  to  manhood,  the  uncle  said 
to  him:  "Now,  my  nephew,  you  must  go  to  the  lodge  of  the  chief, 
who  has  two  daughters  whom  you  shall  marry.  A^Hien  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-skm  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."  P'irst  the  nephew  placed  in  the  bowl 
of  the  pipe  red-willow  bark  which  had  been  dried  for  the  purpose. 


'H^l^]  FICTION  263 

Then  \w  took  out  the  manikin,  wliich  at  once  ran  to  the  fire  and, 
brin<iin<i  an  ember,  put  it  into  tlie  l)il)e.  Now  tiie  nephew  began  to 
smoke,  and  as  he  smoked  he  expectorated  wampum,  first  on  one  side 
and  then  on  the  other.  The  uncU;  said  to  him:  "That  will  do  very 
well.  Xow  you  must  don  the  feather  headdi'e.ss  that  I  wore  when  I 
was  a  young  man."'  On  the  top  of  this  headdress  was  a  duck  which, 
when  the  iieaddress  was  not  worn,  drooped  its  head,  seeming  not  to 
1)0  ali\e,  but  which,  as  soon  as  tlie  headdress  was  put  on,  held  up  its 
head  and  became  ali\e.  After  the  nephew  Jiad  put  on  the  Iiead- 
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  \  oice.  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  you  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  an<l  nuist  not  see  any- 
thing. She  mu.st  lie  with  her  head  carefully  covered.  Then  you 
shall  sing,  and  all  the  wild  animals  will  come  around  to  listen  to  your 
singing.  You  may  kill  only  such  as  you  desire."  "  But,"  he  added, 
"the  young  woman  must  not  look  at  them;  if  she  does,  something 
evil  will  happen."  "" 

The  nephew,  wearing  iiis  uncle's  garments  and  featiici-  Iieaddress, 
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 
whicii  he  kindled  a  fiie.  Early  in  the  night  a  man  came  to  tiie  fire, 
saying:  "My  nephew,  I  am  tia\cling.  I  am  going  to  the  village 
near  iiere,  but  it  being  now  late.  I  think  I  will  stop  with  you  at  your 
fire.  Jii  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  hapix'iied  to  me  during  my  life  to  pa.ss  the  time  away."  The 
young  man  unwarily  agreed  to  this  proposition  of  the  stranger. 
Then  the  nuui  who  called  himself  uncle  began  to  tell  stories,  and 
the  young  man  would  respond  at  times.  But  at  last,  growing  sleepy, 
the  latter  stojiped  nuiking  resjjonses,  whereupon  the  self-styled  uncle 
remarked.  "  Nejjhew,  I  think  that  you  are  asleep."  The  young  man 
did  not  make  rejily.  Then  the  stranger  stirred  the  fire,  and  blow- 
ing sparks  from  it  on  the  young  man,  called  out,  "Nephew,  !•  think 
that  sparks  of  fire  are  falling  on  you.''  But  as  the  young  man  did 
not  mo\e.  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  tlie 


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

3'()iiiif;  mail,  wlio  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  uncle  began  again 
to  tell  stories,  to  which  the  young  man  responded  for  a  while,  after 
v.'hicli  he  again  became  silent.  Knowing  that  the  young  man  was 
askM;p,  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 
tilings  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  young  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  exjiected.  Hence,  when  he  entered  the 
lodge,  lea\ing  the  side  of  her  sister,  she  went  over  to  the  other  side 
of  the  fire.  Tiie  man  took  his  seat  beside  her  elder  sister,  who  said 
to  jier :  "  Why  do  you  leave  me  now  ?  You  have  been  wishing  that  he 
would  come,  and  now  that  he  has  come,  you  leave  and  go  to  the  otiier 
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  (o  .see  iiim  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  peojile  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- 
mounted the  stolen  headdress  appeared  to  be  lifeless,  for  its  head 
hung  lim]i.  Drawing  the  pijie  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  tlie  people, 
"My  manikin  is  .shy  because  of  the  great  concourse  of  people." 
Reaching  out,  the  man  took  an  ember  which  he  placed  in  the  hand  of 


y 


^"i/^T.'.J'']  FICTION  265 

the  manikin,  bnt  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. 

.\ftei-  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.  \A'lien  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  Howing  from  his  mouth,  which,  when  it 
fell  on  the  ground,  became  wampum.  Astonished,  the  younger 
daughter  ran  home  to  tell  her  fatiier  what  she  had  .seen,  lie  at  once 
sent  her  back  to  bring  the  strange  man  to  the  lodge.  Carefully 
gatheiing  the  wampum,  she  informed  tiie  man  that  her  father  had 
sent  for  him,  and  that  lie  must  therefore  accompany  her  to  the  lodge. 

Soon  after  the  elder  sister  and  her  husband  reached  home  from 
the  assembly  lodge,  the}'  seated  themselves  on  one  side  of  the  hre. 
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  eld^r  daughter  went  to  liunt.  In  the  evening  he  returned  with  a 
dead  bloodsucker  rolled  up  in  lea\es,  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  reuwrk.  "  I  woidd  willingly 
give  it  to  ycHi,  but  I  do  not  like  the  looks  of  your  man." 

In  the  morning  of  the  next  day  the  hu.sband  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  jou  part  of  the  time. 
Hereafter  you  shall  be  called  by  my  name."  The  other  person  agreed 
to  the  pro]iosition.  As  soon  as  the  change  was  made,  the  husband 
of  the  yomiger  dauglitcr  became  a  finedooking  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  gatliered  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 
!is  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.  anx.32 

its  head,  began  to  sound  its  usual  note.  Then,  talking  his  pipe  from 
his  pouch  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  floor.  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  evei-y  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  you  see  what  he  can  do 
with  their  aid."  The  elder  sister  replied,  "  I  will  turn  my  husl)and 
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 


CIRTI 
HEWITT 


^]  FICTION  267 


obey  him.  You  are  too  foolish.  You  took  the  other  luiin  when  I 
knew  that  he  was  not  the  right  one.  So  yo\i  shouhl  not  go."  But 
when  the  young  man  wa.s  ready  to  start  slie  cried  like  a  child  to  be 
permitted  to  go;  and  finally  iier  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  foiest.  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 
to  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  IIo,  ho,  ho!  and  then 
carried  him  off  on  its  back.  Frigiitened,  the  sister-in-law  leaped  up 
and  ran  home.  AVhen  she  arrived  there  her  younger  sister  said, 
"  AVhere  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 
accom])any  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 
wdiite  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  yoimg  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;  tiien  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!  It  would  seem  that  they  were  becoming  tired.  Tiiey  thought 
that  she  was  a  deer,  and  that  she  would  help  tliem.  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  Woman 

A  woman  living  near  Cayuga  Lake  had  been  asked  many  times 
by  young  men  to  many  her,  but  she  would  never  consent.  The 
knowledge  that  slie  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,  "Ai-e  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  possibles  like  him."  When  the  time  came  he  aj^peared  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 


^.ii'^.l^i]  FICTION  269 

her  feet  in  liis  footprints.  At  last  lie  said,  as  if  in  answer  to  her 
thouffhts:  '•  You  h:ne  become  my  wife;  you  can  not  help  yourself. 
My  home  is  near."  They  descended  the  wall  of  a  precipice  until  they 
?eached  a  large  opening  in  the  rocks.  She  was  glad  at  any  rate  to  be 
so  near  the  lodge.  Stopping  again,  she  took  council  with  hei'self  and 
.-.Imost  resohed  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  saAv  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  \vith  her  new  home. 

Some  time  passed.  She  did  not  discover  that  the  man  was  difi'er- 
ent  from  other  men.  As  soon  as  the  sun  rose  every  day,  he  went 
away. 

One  day  he  tolil  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  Ije  afraid  of  me;  I  am  sent  to  tell  you  of  your  dan- 
ger: you  nuist  do  my  bidding,  for  I  pity  you.  Your  huslsand  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  hapjien  to  you.  When  you  .see  your  husliand.  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 
bej'ond  the  place  a  large  body  of  water  rising,  and  soon  it  was  as 
high  as  the  hole  in  the  rocks  which  led  to  iier  homo.  Then  she 
saw  approaching  the  rocks  a  great  horned  snake  with  glisteninsr 
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,  saying:  "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.  Ths 
old   man  told  her  to  take  off  her  clothes.     She  knew  that  she  had 


270  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  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  passed  from  her  reproductive  organs,  whereupon  the 
old  man  remarked,  "  You  are  now  saved  from  the  evil  orenda  with 
which  you  have  been  afflicted."  To  purify  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  own  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  tmdergo  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  returning  home  her  people  found  her  lying 
in  the  lodge.  Her  family  were  all  delighted  that  she  had  returned 
to  them  safe.  When  they  had  found  she  was  missing  they  had 
searched  for  her  everywhere,  but  had  nevei-  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. 

\Mien  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. 

62.  The  Man  Puestjed  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  yoimger  brother  noticed,  however,  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  clay  while  the  younger  brother  was  watching  he  found  that, 
when  returning  with  game,  a  woman  apjiroached  from  a  side  path 


CinTi.s, 

HEWITT 


]  FICTIOIT  271 


and  took  from  the  elder  brother  tlie  giune,  which  she  carried  awuy. 
So  the  next  day  the  younger  brother  started  off  in  the  direction  the 
strange  woman  had  taken.  lie  soon  came  to  a  lodge,  and  on  entei-ing 
he  found  a  young  woman,  who  smiled  and  began  talking  to  hiiu. 

In  the  afteinoon  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  biother:  "  "^'our  (mly  safe  course  now  is 
to  escape  from  this  place  as  (|uickly  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 
after  securing  him  there,  told  him.  '*  When  the  arrow  strikes  the 
ground,  quickly  get  out  of  this  arrow  and  tlien  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  aiul 
back  again  to  the  bush.  There  she  found  the  trail  of  the  ai'row, 
which  she  followed  to  the  spot  where  it  fell.  On  finding  there  the 
tracks  of  the  young  man,  she  pursued  his  trail  with  great  sj^eed. 
As  she  approached  the  young  man  he  heard' her  footsteps  and,  j^ull- 
ing  off  his  moccasins,  he  told  thciu  to  lun  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  hei-e?"  she  ran  on.  When  she  reacheil  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  heai'd  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  lock  she  could  go  neither 
through  it  nor  over  it.  Finally  she  said.  "  I  have  never  heard  of 
this  hiirh  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  the  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  droppings  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. 
lieturning  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  u]3  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  peoiile  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  slie  liad  done  so  he  took 
his  own  form,  whereu]ion  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  young  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 


^"ewS]  fiction  273 

on  a  side  liill.  The  yoiiiiir  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  tlie  tracks  of  the  young  man.  At  last  she  reached  the  hill.  AVhen 
the  young  man  reached  the  hill  he  ran  along  its  top  for  a  considerable 
time  until  he  slip]ied  and  fell.  Being  unable  to  help  himself,  he  slid 
down  the  hill  with  great  rapidity,  so  fast  that  he  did  not  realize 
anytiiing  until  he  struck  a  lodge,  a  voice  within  which  said.  "I  think 
there  must  be  something  in  our  ti-a|)." 

A  young  woman  came  out  and.  seeing  the  young  man,  lifted 
him  uj)  and  took  him  into  the  lodge.  "  A\'hat  is  the  trouble?  "  asked 
an  old  woman.  He  rejiiied:  '"A  woman  is  following  me.  I  have  long 
been  trying  to  escape  from  her."  "  Keep  out  of  sight  and  I  will  hel{) 
you,"  said  the  old  woman.  Then  the  old  woman,  filling  a  kettle  w  ith 
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  liottom  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  loiew  I  should  conijuer  you  at  last;  "  and 
plunged  into  the  boiling  oil  in  oi'der  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,  "  1  w  ill  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  imcle."  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,  "  (Irandmother,  we  want  you  to  marry  this  man.  our 
uncle."  She  replied,  "So  it  shall  be."  So  they  were  married  and 
all  lived  happily  together. 

.">;i.  TnK  Story  of  Bi.oodv  Hand 

According  to  tradition  several   tribes  of  the   Iroquois  claim   tlie 
honor  of  having  produced  a  gieat  man.  whose  name   was   Bloody 
Hand,  and  whose  fame  as  a  hunter  was  not  less  than  his  rejjutation 
as  a  l)old  and  resolute  war  captain. 
94015°— IS 18 


274  SENECA    FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.  ann.  si 

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  baud. 
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  enemj%  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 
human  friend.  Finally  one  of  the  assembly  said:  "Let  us  try  to 
bring  him  back  to  life.  But  before  we  can  begin  to  resuscitate  his 
body  we  must  recover  his  scalp,  which  hangs  befoi-e  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; 
thiis  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 


CLKTIN, 
HEWnT 


]  FICTION  275 


sanfi;  and  the  rattlesnakes  rattled;  all  present  made  music,  every  one 
in  his  own  way. 

Above  the  clouds  and  mists  of  the  sUy  dwells  a  bird  who  is  the 
chief  of  all  the  birds.  His  name  is  S'hadahojeah.  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  have 
sung  enoKgh.  Our  medicine  will  now  act,  and  we  m  ;st  select  some- 
one to  put  it  into  the  nuui'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. 
While  this  was  taking  i)luce  the  others  were  engaged  in  rubbing  tlie 
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  fi-om  singing,  until  they  perceived  that  tha 
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  varif)us 
sounds  made  by  the  beasts  around  him,  and  finally  came  to  life  again. 
Kenuuning  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  the.se  chants  of  the  sorcerers.  As 
soon  as  his  body  began  to  show  signs  of  motion  the  liirds  and  tlu 
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  pcojjle.  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  fi-om  time  to  time  strengthen 
and  renew  this  medicine  by  giving  a  feast  in  its  honor.'-"  AVhen  you 
make  use  of  it  you  must  bum  tobacco  in  om-  behalf  and  turn  j'our 
thoughts  toward  us.  As  long  as  you  shall  have  this  medicine,  you 
shall  assemble  at  intervals  at  appointed  feasts  to  strengthen  it.  and 
for  this  i)urpose  you  shall  liuin  tobacco  of  the  old  kind.  While  doing 
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  tol>acco.'  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  [bth.  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  tlieir  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  been  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,  selecting  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  sonae  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  meml)er  (tf  the  party  came  behind,  carrying  the  kettle. 

At  last,  when  they  were  getting  very  hungi-y,  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  tie  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 
fre.sher  than  they  were,  he  soon  passed  them,  and  overtaking  the 
bear,  he  killed  it. 


COKTl 
HE 


w.'tt]  fiction  277 


His  companions  never  noticed  in  theii-  hurrv  that  tliey  were  going 
upward  all  tlie  time.  Many  persons  saw  them  in  the  air,  always 
rising  as  they  ran.  When  they  overtook  the  bear  they  had  reached 
the  heavens,  wlierc  they  have  remained  to  this  day,  and  where  they 
can  be  seen  any  starlit  night  near  the  Polar  Stai'. 

The  man  who  carried  the  kettle  is  seen  in  the  bend  of  the  Great 
Dipper,  the  middle  star  of  the  handle,  whik;  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  wlien  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." 

bi>.  Thk  IStokv  oi'  iiii;  Two  Brothers 

Two  brothers  living  by  themselves  in  the  forest  believed  that  they 
were  the  only  persons  in  the  world.  They  were  greatly  devoteel  to 
each  other.  The  younger  did  the  thinking  and  the  planning  for 
both,  for  whatever  he  said  the  ekier  brother  did. 

One  day  the  younger  brother  exclaimed,  "  Go  yonder  and  kill  that 
turkey,  for  I  want  its  featliers."  "  I  will,"  answered  the  elder. 
So  going  to  the  point  indicated,  the  elder  killed  the  turkey  and 
brought  its  carcass  to  his  brother,  asking,  "  AVhat  do  you  want  to  do 
with  its  feathers?"'  "I  want  to  wear  them,  because  it  will  be  a 
pleasure  to  know  that  I  liave  them  on  my  head,"  declared  the  youno'er 
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  the.se  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  fa.stened  on  his  brother's  head. 
This  gave  the  younger  brother  a  distinguished  aspect. 

Every  night  liefore  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  (hiyliglit  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  brotlier  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  liefore.  AVhen  the  younger  brother  returned  to  the 
lodge  his  brother  asked  him  bluntly :  "  What  were  you  doing?     Were 


278  SENECA    FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  (eth.  asn.  32 

you  not  dancing  behind  the  tree?  Why  do  you  go  so  far  away  from 
the  lodge?  You  should  have  j-our  dance  right  here  m  this  lodge. 
AVhy  should  you  go  off  alone  ? "'  "  You  do  not  Imow  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  l)rother  rejoined:  "No;  it  is  not  right  that  I 
should  dance  while  I  have  no  featliers  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  leam  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  j'oursclf.  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 
home.  When  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  bi'other  to  wonder  and 
to  fear  that  something  peculiar  was  about  to  happen  to  both  of  them. 
Often  he  would  say  to  his  brother:  ""WTiy  did  you  stop  hunting? 
You  do  not  go  to  himt  any  more."  The  younger  brother  answered : 
^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  nearh'  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."    blatters  continued  thus  for  some  time. 

One  day  the  younger  brother  said :  "  You  must  staj'^  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 


CtRTI 
HEWITT 


i^]  FICTION  279 


ever  have  an}^  people  or  kindred;  hence  yoii  must  learn  these  songs." 
So  lie  made  a  rule  that  people  of  his  tribe  should  wear  feathers  as 
insionia.  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  tlie  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  tlie  people  shall  sing,  and  they,  too. 
shall  wear  feathers  on  their  heads."  The  people  had  never  heard 
jinyone  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  ha\c  heard  them  gi\en  in 
my  hunting  expeditions.  1  dance  to  my  own  songs  because  T  hear 
the  birds  sing,  and  I  see  them  dance,  "i'ou  and  I  must  do  the  same, 
for  it  will  rouse  a  feeling  of  joy  in  our  hearts."  Thus,  the  youth  was 
the  wiser  of  the  two  l)r()thers. 

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  bi-other  must  have  leai'ned  a 
song  from  this  bii-d,  for  he  i-ecognized  a  song  which  had  been  taught 
to  him.  "  "\'ou  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)."  Thereu[)on  he  be- 
gan to  sing  a  S(mg  of  his  own,  which  was  dilTeient  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  eider 
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  are  sad  we  will  draw 
our  words  from  it;  we  will  sing  it  and  gain  courage  and  sti'ength 
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  i)ouch,  saying,  "  Brother,  let  mc  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  SEXECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

going,  finally  the  elder  said,  "  I  will  let  you  go  part  of  the  way.  but 
i  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 
pight.  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  by  them;  he  was  learning 
all  the  habits  of  the  turkey,  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  bod_y,  so  he  let  it  alone. 

The  brothers  always  ate  together  when  encamped  in  the  same  lodge. 
One  day  the  brother  with  the  turkey-skin  rolie  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 
something  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  j'outh  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- 


'i^^T,^]  FICTION  281 

iug.  lie  Siiid,  "I  shall  ask  my  brother,  to  learn  what  he  will  think 
about  this  matter."  (loing  out,  lie  consulted  with  his  younger 
brother,  who  had  in  appearance  become  a  turkey,  saying,  "That 
woman  lias  come.  What  is  to  be  done'^  "  The  answer  came:  "Have 
I  iiot  told  you  that  she  would  come?  She  is  a  great  sorceress  whose 
purpose  is  to  destroy  us.  You  nmst  tell  her  that  you  are  not  ready 
to  go  today,  but  that  you  and  your  brother  will  go  tomorrow.  I 
foresee  that  if  we  go  something  evil  will  happen  to  us  if  we  are  not 
very  cautious."  doing  into  the  lodge,  the  elder  brother  said  to  the 
woman,  "  We  will  start  as  .soon  as  we  can  get  ready."  She  did  not 
once  su.spect  that  what  she  had  taken  for  a  turkey  was  the  other 
brother.  The  brother  with  the  turkey-skin  I'obe  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  wrong  of  you  to  go.  She  is  a  great  sorceress, 
and  wc  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  liim, 
I  shall  dream  of  it."  After  the  lapse  of  some  time  he  said,  "  Well,  I 
nmst  go  after  my  brothei-."  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.  Pei'haps  it  has  come  to 
stay  with  us:  it  is  very  tame."  Tlie  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,  .\fter  the  two  women  had  gone 
a  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  3'ou  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.  an.\.  32 

th.Mn."  So  saying,  he  started  eastward.  As  his  captive  brother 
watclied  him,  he  remarked,  "  It  is  fortunate  that  he  can  go  where 
he  lilces." 

On  the  way  homeward  the  Turkey  Brother  became  so  anxious 
&i00ut  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  off  his  turkey-skin  robe,  for  he  had  definitely  decided  in  his 
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!  "  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  you  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  Moo.se  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.  Your 
journey  has  caused  me  great  trouble.  We  are  now  free  from  the 
woman  and  can  now  live  happily  together." 


CUItTI 
HEWITT 


?f]  FICTION  283 

5f).  S'lioDiKONSKON  '"'    (tiie  Trickstkk) 

S'hodieonskon  went  on  a  journey  to  di;.tant  places  in  visits  of  ad- 
venture. In  the  fii-st  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  di.sease;  that  tlie  same  disease  would  come  to  them,  too: 
and  that  his  people  had  discovered  but  one  cure  for  it — all  i)eisons 
who  wei'c  married  slept  witli  other  men's  wives  and  other  women's 
husbands,  and  this  saved  them.  I'elieving  this,  the  people  did  as  he 
had  told  them. 

Then  S'hodieonskon  started  oft' in  anothei- direction.  When  became 
in  sight  of  the  second  village  he  began  to  call  out  according  to  the 
custom  of  runners,  Go'trcJi!  go'vch!  so  the  people  knew  that  news  of 
some  kind  was  coming.  .\s  they  gathered  around  him  after  his  ar- 
rival, he  tokl  them  that  a  jilague  was  upon  the  place  from  which  he 
had  come,  and  that  if  they  wished  to  prevent  or  cure  this  plague  tiiey 
must  cut  holes  in  the  bark  walls  of  tlieir  lodges  and  close  these  by 
putting  their  buttocks  into  them,  and  that  all  the  families  must  do 
this.  Going  home,  the  j)eople  defecated  into  tlieir  lodges  through 
these  holes  in  the  walls,  whei-eupou  S'hodieonskon  mpcked  them  for 
being  fools,  and  thrust  his  walking-stick  through  the  holes  as  lie 
went,  jeering  at  them,  from  lodge  to  lodge,  before  his  depai'ture. 

Tn  the  next  adventure  he  met  a  crowd  of  men;  this  time  he  wore 
long  hair  I'eaching  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  liml).  jumped  oft".  In  this  way  the 
hair  became  stretched  as  much  as  he  wanted.  Further,  tliey  could  do 
likewise  if  they  wished.  A  fter  S-hodieonskon  had  gone  his  way  one  of 
the  men.  saying,  '"I  am  going  (o  make  my  hair  long."  climlied  a  tree 
aiul.  having  tied  his  hair  to  a  limb,  jumped  down.  His  seal])  was 
torn  off.  and.  falling  to  the  ground,  he  was  killed.  Tlu>  other  ]ieople. 
enraged,  said.  "'J'hat  man  is  S'hodieonskon:  we  must  overtak'e  and 
kill  him."  Kunning  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  i)uil  off  a  fish,  for  he  had  sharpened  his  leg  and  was 
using  it  for  a  spear.  They  watched  him  take  several  fish  fi-oin  his 
log.  '\\'hen  they  reac-hed  the  bank  he  came  up  out  of  the  water.  'I'hey 
were  astonished  at  the  number  of  fish  he  had  caught  and  asked  him 
how  he  had  taken  .so  many.  "  You  can  all  sc(\"'  he  replied,  "I  have 
shai'pened  my  leg  and  use  it  foi-  a  spear;  when  I  get  all  the  fi.sh  I 
want  I  s])it  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  (he  men  w  anted  to  s])ear  fish,  so  they  nsked  iiim.  "  (^an 
not  you  sharpen  our  legs,  so  that  we  may  s])ear  fish?  "  After  he  had 
.sharjiened  theii-  legs,  entering  the  water,  they  went  to  work,  while  he 
disappearccl.    Presently  they  began  to  feel  sore  and  had  caught  noth- 


284  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.  ann.  S2 

ing.  So  they  all  came  up,  and  sitting  on  the  bank,  they  spat  on  their 
legs  and  rubbed  them,  but  this  treatment  was  of  no  efficacy  in  heal- 
ing their  wounds.  Meanwhile  Siiodieonskon  was  far  out  of  sight  on 
his  way  to  a  new  village. 

When  S'hodieonskon  drew  near  to  the  third  village  he  called  out, 
Oo'iceh!  go'  wch!  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  eat  it  and  went 
his  way. 

S'hodieonskon,  not  to  be  baffled,  called  up  a  coui:)le  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.  Stojiping  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  tei-ms  with  him."  Going  on 
through  the  woods,  the  women  soon  saw  something  moving  in  front 
of  them,  whicli  they  noticed  was  covered  with  hemlock  boughs.    They 


^™^.;]  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  the  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,  hut  he  had  gone  after  fooling  them  all.  8"ho- 
dieonskon  and  the  man  in  the  hemlock  boughs  were  one. 

JS'hodieonskon  went  on  again,  soon  coming  to  an  opening  whei'e 
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  nnist  cover  all  the  smoke-hol(>s,  for  he  has  a  long  spear  which 
he  thrusts  into  them  to  spear  the  people."  Then  he  imented  a  luinie 
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  i-oof  of  the  chief's 
lodge,  speared  him  to  death  and  look  his  wi\es  and  all  he  had. 

In  due  liun'  the  funeral  of  the  chief  was  held,  and  all  canu'  to  bury 
him.  S'hodieonskon,  aj^pearing  amcjng  the  mourners,  cried,  saying: 
"I  am  sorry  for  the  chief;  he  was  a  frieiul  of  mine,  and  now  he  is 
dead  and  gone.  I  am  so  sad.  I  do  not  wish  to  live.  ^Ou  must  bury 
me  with  him."  So  they  jjut  S'hodieonskon  in  tlu;  ground  beside  the 
chief.  'J'he  next  day  some  boys  who  were  out  at  jilay  heard  a  man 
calling  for  help,  his  voice  seeming  to  come  from  the  gravi'vard. 
whereupon  they  went  to  the  s]>ot.  'i'he  voice  seeming  to  come  out  of 
the  grave,  they  ran  and  told  the  people.  The  peojjle  agreed  to  dig 
hiui  u]).  When  they  had  tlone  so  S'hodieonskon,  stantling  on  the 
ground,  said:  "There  is  a  \'ery  impoitant  thing  to  be  done.  1  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  mai'ried  them,  settled  down. 

i>7.  Till.  ('annii!.\i,  I*N(i,n,  His  Xki'iiew,  .\ni)  the  Xi.imikw's 
Invisibi.k  Bkotiikk 

An  uncle  and  his  nephew  dwelt  together  in  a  foiest.  subsisting  bv 
hunting.  They  lived  in  a  lodge  which  had  a  partition  through  the 
middle  and  a  door  at  each  end.  Neither  one  e\er  entered  the  part 
occui)ied  by  the  other,  all  communication  lietween  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  young  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:  "  My  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  3'ou  are  here,  and  now  you  must  heed  my  words,  or  he  will  kill 
and  eat  you.  Three  other  women  have  been  here  before  you.  He 
killed  and  devoured  them  all,  for  (hey  disregarded  my  warnings. 
Now,  before  I  go,  I  will  bring  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 
you  are  here."  After  he  left  the  door,  the  young  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 
taid,  "  Let  the  water  with  which  she  is  cooking  boil  away."  The 
water  boiled  away,  but  as  she  had  plenty  more  she  did  not  go  out. 
Seeing  this,  the  uncle  became  terribly  angry,  and  said,  "  I  will  get 
lier  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  every  man  or  woman  he 
met.  he  killed,  and  having  brought  home  the  bodj^  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 


'i^T^^]  FICTION  287 

would  have  his  own.  Tie  heai'd  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  faitlier 
and  farther  each  day.  AMien  he  had  made  paths  three  days'  journey 
in  circuit  he  told  his  wife  what  lie  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  posses.sed  of  orenda  (magic  power),  had 
caused  a  lodge  to  be  built  in  a  place  distant  si.\  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  accomjianied  him.  but  in  the  futuie  would 
a.ssist  her.  Taking  an  arrow  from  his  qui\er  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  througli  the  air. 

The  nephew  remained  in  his  i^art  of  the  lodge,  waiting,  and  in 
three  days  the  old  man  aj^peared  without  game.  When  he  came 
in,  talking  with  himself,  he  said :  "  What  luck  has  my  nephew  hail '(  " 
"  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  Sfimething  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  daybreak  he  said,  "  I  am  going  to  hunt,  and  I  shall  be 
away  for  three  days."  "T  am  glad."  thought  the  nephew;  he  was 
very  ancrv  with  his  uncle  and  i-eadv  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 
along,  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  befoi-e;  no 
one  but  my  brother  has  ever  seen  me,  and  he  only  two  or  three 
times.  I  know  whfit  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  gi'ew  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  quickh'.  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  determined  to  go  home,  trying  again  the  next  day.  Looking 
up,  he  saw  his  lodge  was  near.  He  had  lieen  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 


^y^;^]  FICTION  289 

until  at  last  he  reached  the  end,  whereupon  he  cried  out  exultingly, 
"  My  daughter-in-law's  Hesh  is  mine."  Looking  up  in  the  air,  he  dis- 
covered his  nephew's  trail.  AVhile  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  tliat  he  saw 
in  the  air,  he  muttered  to  himself.  The  invisible  brother  heard  him. 
All  started  for  tlie  beach,  the  woman  taking  the  lead,  and  the  hu.sband 
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  slop  there  for  the  night."  As  they  were  going  along  the 
beach  he  halted,  and.  taking  a  clamsliell  from  his  bosom,  tiirew  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  lie  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, 
be  called  out,  "Daughter-in-law!  daughter-in-law  I  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),  "  AVhy  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.  lie  took  my  game  and  held  it  as  his  wife."  With  one  blow  the 
old  man  cut  her  head  oil'.  She  had  been  left  alone,  as  her  husl)and 
was  hunting,  and  the  invisible  brother  was  not  near  to  warn  her,  so 
she  was  lost. 

The  lake  had  now  expanded  to  its  proper  width.  Taking  olf  her 
raiment,  the  old  man  threw  it  into  his  nephew's  lodge,  saying. 
"Be  3'ou  a  helpmate  to  my  nephew."  He  then  cut  the  body  ojien, 
finding  that  it  contained  twins.  lie  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  [eth.  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  the  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  cliildren's 
tracks,  but  he  could  not  believe  they  were  such,  thinking  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  foilnd  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.  AMiile  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,  (loing  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 


%"^^l^]  FICTION  291 

talk,  for  a^  they  piilleil  tho  iiu'at  aloiifjf.  ho  hcaid  one  say.  "  TTiirry  tip: 
father  will  soon  foiiie." 

The  next  niomiii''-.  after  fjoinfr  a  short  distance,  he  hid  himself 
and  waited.  The  time  seemed  \n\)<x.  At  last  the  children  came  from 
the  lotr.  and-enteriiii;'  tli;-  lods^e.  closed  the  (Unw.  Then  the  fathei'  ran 
up  and  went  in  iiiiiisell'.  fa-stening  the  (hior  alter  liim.  The  moment 
the  chihlren  saw  liim.  they  be<;an  to  cry.  '*  \A'iiy  do  you  (;i-y,"  he 
asked,  "T  am  your  father.  Do  not  cry."  At  this  they  stopped 
crying.  Then  he  said,  "Yon  will  stay  here  with  me."  As  he  had 
overheard  them  calling;  liim  father,  he  asked.  ■"How  do  you  know 
that  I  am  your  father^"  As  he  questioned  them,  sittinii  by  the 
fire,  he  on  one  side  and  the  two  children  to<rether  on  the  other,  one 
of  them,  who  was  sliu;hlly  larger  than  the  other,  said:  "Your  uncle 
came  ()\er  here  and  killed  our  motlier,  cuttiiiii;  oil'  her  head  and  her 
breasts.  Then  he  threw  her  intestines  into  a  hollow  loff.  We  w'cre 
amon<r  the;  intestines,  and  as  the  breasts  were  theie,  we  drew  milk 
from  them  and  so  were  able  to  live.  Her  head  is  there  with  us  now. 
As  the  l)oy  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."  lie  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  wlien  tiie  fathci'  came  home,  one  of  the  boys  said 
to  him.  "Our  iixither  is  very  hungry,  for  we  have  not  fed  her  today." 
Tho  father  replied:  "Feed  her:  gi\e  lier  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.?e  to  feed  your  mother."  He 
was  \ery  kind  to  the  children,  because  he  loved  them,  and  to  keep 
them  from  running  away,  he  let  them  do  as  they  likeil  with  what 
was  in  the  lodge.  He  .soon  discovered,  however,  that  his  stock'  of 
meat  was  disappearing  very  fast,  faster  than  he  ccjuld  bring  in  more 
This  continued  until  he  began  to  feel  discourageil  and  frightened. 
The  boy  said  to  his  father  when  the  latter  I'eturned  one  day,  "My 
mother  eats  all  the  time,"  telling  how  mucli  she  ate,  and  asked  his 
fathei-  to  go  and  see  her.  'I"he  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  disapi)earcd.  and  the  bones 
of  which  were  somewhat  bruised. 

The  boys  aske(l.  "Now.  father,  wliat  do  you  thinks"  "I  am 
afraid,"  he  answered,  "that  after  she  has  eaten  all  our  meat  she 
will  cat  us."" 

"  I.,et  us  go  to  some  othei'  part  of  the  woild.  .'<o  she  will  have  to 
travel   far  to  oxertake  us,"  said  one  of  the  boys;  "we  can  not  feed 


■292  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  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 :  "  Yo>i  may  go.  Your  mother  lias  become  a  man-eater. 
You  may  escape."  The  next  morning  the  boys  started  westward 
with  the  dogs.  The  father  said  he  would  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  bo_ys'  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  ti'ees  had 
been  cut  down.  The  dogs  said,  "  Now  you  would  better  slip  off 
and  go  on  foot  to  the  settlement."  The  boys  were  unwilling  to  go, 
but  the  dogs  were  determined,  and  shaking  themselves,  as  if  they 
had  just  been  in  water,  the  children  tumbled  oft'.  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  esca]3e,  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  eft'ort  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,"  tlie 
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 


^Vkwitt]  fiction  293 

very  angry."  As  the  dog  looked  hacic  lio  said  :  "  Tlic  Tlcad  lias  started 
and  is  coming.  \\'e  have  never  seen  so  great  witchcraft  as  she  has, 
although  we  have  seen  much,  but  this  we  are  n(it  al)lo  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  woul<l  si)ring 
at  iier;  and  when  she  turneil  on  tlieni  they  wouUl  again  escape  into 
the  ground.  Her  track  coidd  he  seen  plainly,  for  the  bark  was  all 
bitten  from  the  trees,  where  the  dogs  kept  her  back  anti  prevented 
her  from  Hying  ahead. 

All  at  once,  one  of  the  little  !)oys,  far  oil'  in  the  west,  said  to  his 
brother.  "Our  father  is  to  be  pitied;  our  mother  has  turned  into 
some  strange  being  and  is  pursuing  him."  Soon  ii  second  dog  came 
up  to  the  man,  saying,  "  Your  wife  has  changed  into  a  Flying  Head 
and  is  ])osscssed  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  straigiit  aiiead.  (jio  always  toward  the 
south."  The  man  i-an  with  all  his  might.  Seeing  a  lodge  at  a  dis- 
tance he  ran  up  to  it,  ;ind  entering,  said  to  an  old  man  sitting  there: 
'  Uncle,  help  me!  Something  is  after  me  that  is  going  to  take  my 
life.  Help  me!  "  ".Vll  right.  Altiiough  1  do  not  know  what  it  is,  I 
will  help  you  all  1  can  :  but  hui-ry  on  to  the  next  lodge;  there  you  will 
find  your  aunts,"  replied  the  old  man.  Tiie  man  had  got  abo>it 
halfway  between  the  two  lodges  wiien  he  lieard  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  teri-ible  struggle  about  the  lotlge.  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  afler  the  Head  had  killed 
him  a  dark  cloud  would  go  up  to  the  very  heavens.  At  th;  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  untde  the  Head 
rushed  after  the  husband,  for  she  had  eaten  every  bit  of  the  uncle's 
flesh  in  a  luonunt.  "  lluirv !  "  said  the  dog:  "  we  are  sure  to  die;  we 
have  but  two  places  of  refuge  left.  It  is  through  your  uiude  who 
killed  her  that  she  has  become  a  witch." 

As  the  man  ran  on,  nearly  e.xhausted,  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  w'ill  do  what  we  can  to  delay  the  Head,  (io  to  the  next  lodge, 
where  your  mothers  li\e:  if  we  can  not  detain  her,  peruaps  they  will 
be  able  to  help  yon."  He  was  not  out  of  sight  when  he  heard  his 
aunts  call  to  ihv'w  children  to  have  courair<'.  and   then   lie   heard   a 


294  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  axn.  33 

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  soimd  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  brother  calling  out,  "  Rim  I  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  the  lodge,  and  he  ^Dushed  him 
on  until  they  were  there.  Thereupon  the  man  called  on  his  mothers, 
saying.  "  Mothers,  help  me !  help  me  I  "  "  Oh,  poor  son  I  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  they  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  have 
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,  warriors !  is  a  ball  you  pan  have 
to  play  ^ith."  Soon  a  great  crowd  of  people  came  together  with 
their  netted  clubs  and  began  to  play.  All  the  players  were  wild 
beasts  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  ma.ster  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 


^lii]  FICTION  295 


old  uncle  has  gone  back  to  his  own  home  and  will  not  trouble  us  now 
that  he  lias  eaten  your  wife's  flesh."  He  ad<le(l:  '•  Your  children 
are  living  in  this  dii-ection  (pointing  westward)  ;  he  of  good  eoui'age, 
and  g()  after  them.  T  shall  retiii-n.  Yon  will  contiiuu^  in  one  direc- 
tion with  your  dcgs  until  yon  reach  the  boys.  Wni  need  never  fear 
to  sutler  such  hardships  again."  So  saying,  he  w<>nt  In  me.  and 
when  the  brother  looked  after  him  he  had  disappeared. 

The  man  and  his  dogs  went  toward  the  west.  The  dogs  had  left 
the  chihlrcii  in  a  ]>lace  near  a  village  where  an  old  woman  li\ed  with 
her  gi-anddaughter.  ^\'hile  the  yovuig  girl  was  in  the  woods  gather- 
ing fuel  she  heard  the  sound  of  voices.  On  listening,  as  the  wind 
came  dii'ectly  to  her,  she  discovered  that  they  were  hmnan  voices, 
and  thought.  "T  will  ask  giandmother  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  foi' 
her.self.  The  old  woman  a.sked:  "In  what  direction  were  the 
voices?  It  is  a  pleasure  to  know  that  there  are  children  yet  ;di\-e; 
they  must  be  for  u.s."  They  went  to  the  place.  *'  Now  listen  !  "said 
the  girl.  "  True."  said  the  giandmother.  "  I^ook  everywhere  and  finrl 
these  children:  they  may  be  .sent  to  us.  as  we  are  alone."  The. girl 
followed  the  sound,  which  she  could  hear  distinctly  ;is  cominii'  from 
the  groimd.  She  kept  on  until  she  found  the  two  children,  .seem- 
ingly a  year  old,  one  slightly  larger  than  the  other.  (Joingup  to  them 
she  tokl  them  to  stop  crying:  that  she  would  be  their  mother.  .\s 
she  stood  there  talking  her  grandmother  came,  who  pitied  the  chil- 
dren: she  found  that  they  were  clothed  with  skins.  The  grand- 
mother said:  "'Now  sto])  crying,  "^'oii  shall  be  our  children.  I  will 
be  your  grandmother  and  my  granddaughtei-  will  be  your  mothei." 
The  girl  added:  "All  we  have  shall  lie  yours.  T  will  lf)\c  yoii  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  okl  woman  said:  "  A\'e  will  take  care  of  these  children.  There 
are  many  people  in  the  village,  but  iu)t  a  child  among  them  all.  I 
lived  hei-e  a  Iftng  time,  but  have  never  seen  a  little  child."  Tin-  chil- 
dren soon  seemed  larger  aiul  sometimes  woidd  go  to  hunt  birds. 
They  were  ne\er  gone  long  at  a  time,  and  never  went  out  f)f  sight 
of  the  lodge.  "  (irandmothei-."  called  one  of  the  boys  one  day,  "come 
and  see  what  we  have  killed;  it  is  all  spotted  and  lies  yonder-  in  the 
w^eeds."  "Where  is  it?  ^A'here  is  it?"  she  asked.  The  boys  led  the 
way.  lint  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  her.self:  "I  am 
thank'ful  to  have  these  children:  they  will  lie  great  himters  in  time: 
their  game  is  getting  larger.     First  they  kill  birds,  now  a   fawn." 


296  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  »2 

When  they  did  not  feel  lik£  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  came  into  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  novr  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?  "Why  did  you  frighten  us  so?  "  "We  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  si.ster  and  the  grandmother 
was  his  grandmother.  They  all  lived  very  happily  together.  And 
this  is  the  story. 

58.  DoOXONGAES"'  AND  TSODIQGWADON 

Doonongaes.  who  lived  at  one  end  of  Ganyodaes,"''  or  Long  Lake, 
had  such  orendu  (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,^-]  FICTION  297 

Doonongaps  had  a  servant,  Skalinowa,'"  who  lived  at  the  other  end 
of  (ianyodaes.  whicli  was  so  long  tiiat  one  end  of  it  eoiiKl  not  be 
seen  from  the  other.  Slcahnowa's  work  was  to  patrol  the  lake  and 
keep  off  intruders.  One  niornin<r  early  he  jumped  up.  saying,  "  I 
must  he  on  my  rounds,  for  if  I  do  not  I  shall  be  jiunislied."  So  he 
hurried  along  the  shore;  soon  he  sa>v  some  one  with  a  pole,  evidently 
fishing.  Skahnowa  approaciied  and,  seeing  him  eating  a  fish,  he 
asked,  ''What  are  you  doing  iiere  ^ '"  ''Ohl  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
fungus'^'  growhig  on  the  hickory  trees  here,"  replied  the  intruder. 
•'  If  you  are  getting  fungus  from  the  trees,  why  do  you  go  to  the 
water;"  asked  Skahnowa.  "  Vou  see,"  said  tlie  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  ])euj)le  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  l;ie  true?  It  is  very  strange  if  it 
be  true  tliat  one  person  owns  this  lake."  Going  to  his  master,  Skah- 
nowa said  :  "  I  have  news  for  you.  There  is  a  man  yonder  at  Uedio- 
steniagoii  "'  who  is  getting  fish  out  of  the  water  very  fast."  "I 
will  stop  him.  I  like  to  amuse  myself  in  this  way,"  said  Doonongaes, 
who  got  his  kettle  ready  at  once  and,  taking  iiis  club,  started  for 
the  phice. 

■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  imder  the  water  he  came  out  right  in  front  of  Djidjogwen, 
who  had  pulled  out  a  great  fish  a  moment  before.  "  What  are  you 
doing?"  asked  Doonongaes.  "What  business  have  you  to  meddle 
with  my  game  animals?"  "Oh!  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  not  med- 
ilHng  with  them.  I  am  merely  eating  the  fungus  "^  that  grows  around 
here,"  replied  Djidjogwen.  "Then  iiow  came  that  fish  here?  "  asked 
Doonongaes.  "As  I  stood  here  a  small  bird  Hew  along  above  the 
water,  and  a  fi-sh,  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  rini. 
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  shoidder 
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  [ETH.  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,"  thought  he,  "  I  will  go  underground."  He  went 
into  the  ground,  and  going  forward  imtil  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  roaongi' ons  ne  ganio}*^ 
"  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,  "i?wM,"' 
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  smolce-hole,  and,  looking  around,  saw  that 
rhey  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  very  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. 
■w€re  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  youngei- 
sister,  seeing  objects  which  resembled  fins  sticking  out,  began  to 
pound  these ;  soon  she  saw  that  she  was  driving  them  in.  "  AVhat 
shall  I  do,"  thought  she;  "  my  sister  said  these  things  woidd  crumble 
to  pieces."  .She  kept  on  pounding,  however,  imtil  she  saw  that 
something  like  milk  began  to  come  out.  She  stopped  striking  them, 
whereupon  the  milklike  Huid  turned  into  foam  and  came  out  stronger 
and  stronger.     At  last,  becoming  frightened,  she  ran  to  her  sister, 


Cf 

HEW 


iTiri]  FICTION  299 


whom  she  found  lyini;  down,  dohip  nothinc;.  She  said,  "  Oh !  my 
sister,  what  is  the  matter?"  "Oh!"  said  tiie  elder,  "'I  can  not  do 
anything;  he  has  ovci-powered  me  liy  his  oremla  (magic  powei-)  :  do 
the  best  yon  can."  Tlie  yoiuigei-.  <h'ivin<r  (lieir  flint  knife  into  the 
neclv  joint,  began  to  hammer  it;  finally  the  knife  went  out  of  sight. 
Then  she  asked  her  sister,  "  AVhat  shall  we  (Id  now?"  ''Our  oidy 
safety  is  to  run  away."  was  the  answer.  The  yoiuiger  sister,  going 
down  the  sniokediole.  got  a  narrow  strij)  of  the  skin  of  Djaino.^gowa. 
This  was  the  container  of  their  magic  powei-.  oi"  fetish.  Com- 
ing bade  to  her  sister,  she  said,  "  Now  I  am  i-cady."  The  elder 
answered:  "Take  liold  of  one  end  of  the  skin  and  I  will  take  the 
other.  Then  let  us  run  to  the  end  of  Doonongaes'  tail,  wheie  we 
will  jump  oil'  and  get  away  as  fast  as  we  can."  Tt  was  a  good  while 
before  they  came  to  the  end  of  the  tail.  Then  jumping  olf.  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,  "T  do  not  heai-  anyone  talking."  1'hen  his  lu'ck  began  to  feel 
tired,  and  he  said.  "This  lodge  wcai'ies  me,"  and  jerking  his  head, 
off  went  the  lodge,  falling  some  distance  away.  On  going  up  to  it  he 
found  i(  empty.  "  ^'ery  well.  AVe  shall  soon  see  .about  this."  thought 
he:  "No  one  has  ever  been  able  to  get  a^ay  from  me.  I  will  ]iut 
these  two  out  of  the  way."  Thcueupon  he  ran  back  as  fast  as  he 
could,  saying.  "When  could  they  have  escaped?  Oh  I  my  neck  is 
soi-e."  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  eai-|li  wms  foiTi  u]i.  "Ila.  ha!  vou  lliiiik  you  are  going  to 
esca])e  me."  he  said,  starting  with  lightning  speed  on  their  track. 
ITe  ran  until  night.  'I'oward  morning  he  said  :  "  The  pain  in  my  neck 
is  inci-easing.  I  wonder  if  I  should  bettei-  go  back.  No:  T  can  not 
give  up  this  chase.  I  have  always  thought  T  could  allow  no  one  to 
overjiower  me,  so  T  will  kee)')  on."  At  midday  he  came  to  the  end 
of  the  women's  frail,  and  could  track-  theui  no  fai-ther.  Now.  he 
thought,  "  \\'hat  shall  T  do.  for  I  am  determined  to  put  tliein  out  f)f 
the  woi'ld  '.  " 

Standing  nj).  he  became  taller  and  taller  until  at  last  he  stood  on 
the  ti])  of  his  tail  with  his  head  high  in  the  air.  He  saw  a  smoke  far 
(.ff  on  oiu'  side,  so  he  came  down  and  shot  off  in  that  direction,  reach- 
ing the  place  in  a  tew  moments.  Halting  by  the  lodge,  he  thought: 
"T  hear  som(>  one  inside.  Very  likely  magically  powerful  people 
live  here."  On  i)eei)ing  in.  he  saw  a  very  old  man  sitting  down  smok- 
ing, with  his  head  bowed.  Doonongaes  watrhed  him  foi'  some  time: 
at  last  the  old  man,  looking  up,  said:  ''IIir>i.  my  nei)hew  has  come! 
Well,  nephew  conx'  in.  Why  do  you  stand  outside?"  "This  is  my 
uncle's  lodge;  it  seems  he  knows  me,"  thought  Dooiu)ngaes:  so  he 


300  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ans.  S2 

went  in.  "  Well,  nephew,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
I  have  been  expecting  a'ou  for  a  long  time."  "  Well,  I  have  come. 
What  do  you  want  ?  "  said  Doonongaes.  "  Oh !  yon  and  I  will  fight 
against  each  other,"  replied  the  old  man.  "'  That  suits  me  exactly," 
answered  Doonongaes ;  "  it  is  the  very  game  I  amuse  mj'self  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  ^  "  "  No,"  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  around 
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  the}^  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  Hint  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 


CUKTIN 
HKWITT. 


]  FICTION  301 


man's  head,  and  heads  all  anuind  the  kidge  with  Oesli  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  eut  my  head  off."'  thought  he, 
running  away.  A  few  moments  later  one  of  the  boys  said  to  the 
other,  "Did  not  you  think  some  game  eame  to  the  lodge  just  now?  " 
'■  Yes,"  replied  the  other.  "  'Well,  let  us  hurry  out;  we  will  soon  bring 
it  back,"  said  the  other.  'J'aking  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  aim.  he  hurried  on.  As  he 
went  along,  he  saw  a  high  preeipiee,  whereupon  he  said,  '"Perhaps 
I  had  better  throw  these  boys  over,  for  they  annoy  me."  After  throw- 
ing them  ovei'  the  precipice,  he  walked  on.  Presently  he  heard  "  Tcu! 
Ten!  that  man  walking  o\er  there  falls  (is  about  to  fall)."  l)oo- 
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  clilf.  "It  is  absurd  that  he  should  make  sport  of  me,"  said 
Doonongaes;  "I  will  punish  him."  Doonougaes  hiu'ried  toward  the 
man.  who  \'(*as  ahead.  When  he  came  to  the  s|)ot  where  he  thought 
the  man  was.  he  could  nut  lind  him.  and  could  see  no  one.  Soon  he 
saw  fai'  ahead  the  man  jieep  from  behiiui  a  tiec.  then  dart  back  and 
peep  out  again.  Doonongaes  ran  to  the  tree,  and  going  around  it, 
said,  "  Now,  1  will  punish  you.  you  scoundrel  ";  but  he  found  no  one 
there.  lie  looked  e\erywhere.  At  last  he  saw  another  tree  far  ahead 
with  the  man  peeping  from  behind  it.  Tie  hurried  to  the  place, 
saying  as  he  ran  after  the  man  ai'ound  the  tr(>e.  "  I  have  caught  you  "; 
but  when  he  got  around,  he  could  see  no  one.  "This  is  ]iro\dking." 
said  Doonongaes.  "he  is  making  sport  of  me;  I  must  punish  him 
without  fail."' 

Doonongaes  sat  down  under  the  tree  to  re.st  from  the  chase  and 
closed  his  eyes;  in  a  little  while  he  was  sound  asleep.  The  man  came 
back  and.  si'cing  Doonongaes  asleep,  said.  "I  thought  this  man  said 
he  was  going  to  beat  me."  As  he  .stood  looking  at  Dof)nougaes  he 
resolved  to  kill  him.  Talcing  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.  whereu|)oii  out  came  the  blood 
streaming  in  every  direction.  Then  Dooiu)ngaes  died.  ''  1  did  not 
have  much  trouble,"  thought  the  murderer,  who  was  one  of  the 
Djoniaik  '''"  i)eople.  "  though  he  called  himself  powerfid  ";  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  li\ed  in  the  raxine  below  said  they  saw  it.     "This 


302  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32- 

looks  like  the  blood  of  our  people,  like  the  blood  of  our  great  cliief." 
The.v  all  gathered  at  the  place  where  the  blood  was  coming,  and  one 
of  tile  tallest  men  said,  "  I  will  try  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  shoulder  of  the  second, 
another  and  another  doing  likewise  until  in  this  way  they  reached 
the  top.  Djoniaik  saw  men  coming,  and  noticing  that  they  were  the 
same  kind  of  people  as  Doonongaes,  he  said,  "They  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  laige  Kre  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 
iiappened  and  find  out  what  he  thinks  aI)out  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  anj'  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  hank,  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."  "  AVell.  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  vou  sure  of  that."  asked. 


--■?•]  FICTIOX  303 

Skalinowa.  "  Yes:  wo  lia\o  just  come  fi'oni  tlie  spot  where  Iiis  body 
is,"  they  said.  "  W'Iuti'  is  that '  "  asked  Skalinowa.  "At  Broken 
Land,  where  the  laughing  man  lives.  You  know  where  that  is," 
they  said.  "Oh.  yes."  answered  Skahnowa;  "I  will  go  and  see. 
If  he  is  dead.  I  supp(  se  I  shall  get  possession  of  this  lake  and  own 
it  myself."  "Take  tlic  trail  we  cauie  on,"  said  the  men.  Then  they 
went  their  way.  while  Skalinowa  took  the  ti'ail  along  which  they 
had  come. 

Tiie  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  last,  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, 
"  Tt  is  true  that  he  is  dead,  and  yet  he  thought  no  man  could  kill 
him,  so  gi'catly  did  he  estf'cui  himself."  The  two  men  delivered 
the  pouch,  and  then  sat  down,  waiting  for  the  othei's  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 
saitl:  ■'  We  are  here.  Now  how  are  we  to  find  where  our  grandfather 
lives?  "  The  other  answered,  "  I  wonder  if  this  is  reall}'  the  jjlaee?  " 
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  tiacks  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.  \ow  let 
lis  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. Thei-e  is  something  in  my  foot.  You  finish  the  journey  alone. 
On  the  way  back  you  can  stop  for  inc."  "  \\'ry  well."  said  the 
other.  On  running  around  the  lake  still  again,  he  said.  "There  are 
six  men  running:  now  I  will  do  the  best  T  can.  Why!  there  is  a 
man  sitting  ahead  on  the  bank,  ^\'cll.  T  thought  I  would  overtake 
those  jjcople  .soon."  The  man  who  was  sitting  down,  on  turning 
to  see  who  was  running  up.  saw  his  friend.  The  runnei-  said  to 
himself,  "  AVhy,  it  looks  like  my  friend  who  hurt  his  foot."  ( )ii 
coming  to  him,  he  asked,  "  ^^'h:^t  ai'c  you  doing  here?"  "I  am 
resting;  my  foot  is  nearly  well  now,  and  I  will  start  at  once.  Did 
you  go  around  and  come  bade  ^  "  he  asked.  "Oh.  no!  T  was  on  the 
trail  all  the  time,"  came  the  rei)ly.  They  set  out  together.  One 
said:  "This  must  be  a  small  lake.  When  we  come  to  the  other  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.  anx.  32 

more  tliey  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  smoke  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:  '  (lo  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  Hint 
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  wound  and  wash  his  face  with  cold 
water.  Tlien  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 :  "  We  were  hindered  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  an  opening  lengthwise  in  the  trail.  On  look- 
ing around,  they  could  see  people  sitting  here  and  there.  One  of  the 
men  said :  ''  I  wonder  wiiat  they  are  doing.  Are  they  watching  and 
guarding  the  opening?  We  must  pass,"  They  passed  by  unharmed 
and  traveled  till  night,  wlien  they  came  to  a  hollow  tree  lying  on  the 
ground.  They  crawled  into  tills  and  had  been  there  only  a  short  time 
when  some  one  rapped  and  said,  "  Well,  are  you  here  for  the  night?  " 
One  answei-ed,  "  Yes;  we  are."  "  What  would  you  do  if  the  Ganiag- 
waihegowa  should  come?  "  was  asked  them.  "  Oh  I  we  should  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 


CURTI  V. 
HEWITT 


^]  FICTION  305 


to  help  you,  for  this  is  a  v(M-v  (hiuj^crous  spot.  The  nia<ric  power 
(orenda)  of  the  inaii  you  arc  l(»okiii<i  for  extends  to  this  phice,  and 
he  has  a  ffreat  many  otiier  places  under  his  control.  You  must  fol- 
low me.  or  you  will  not  live  throu<rli  the  nifrht."  They  went  with 
the  owner  of  the  voice,  seeming  to  rise  in  the  air  as  they  journeyed. 
After  a  wliile  the  guide  said.  "Stop  here  and  see  what  would  have 
happened  to  you  if  you  had  stayed  in  the  tree."  As  they  looked  hack, 
they  saw  (ianiag\\  aiiii'gowa '■' '  Icar  tlic  tree  into  bits,  which  llt'w 
around  in  every  direction,  (ianiagwailicgowa  looked  for  the  men, 
saying:  "He  who  notiiied  me  said  that  two  men  were  here.  lie  al- 
ways disappoints  me,  but  if  he  eloes  this  once  more,  I  will  cut  his 
head  otlV  Then  Cianiagwaihegowa  went  away.  The  guide  said, 
"  Ganiagwaihegowa  has  gone  home,  and  you  are  now  safe." 

They  s])ent  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  worhl — on  the  summit  of 
which  lived  the  old  man.  As  they  stood  at  the  fo(i(  and  hxikeil  u]), 
they  said.  "  How  is  it  po.ssible  to  get  up  where  that  old  man 
lives?  "  but  they  went.  They  searciuHl  until  they  found  a  ledge  that 
seemed  to  ascend  in  a  spiral;  this  they  began  to  climb,  one  ahead  of 
the  other.  Sometimes  they  slippeil,  almost  falling  olf.  At  length 
the  man  ahead  slipped  on  a  round  stone,  am!  over  he  went,  striking 
on  the  rocks  as  he  fell  and  going  down  out  of  sight.  "  A\'ell," 
thought  tile  other  man,  ""my  friend  is  dead;"  theieupon  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.  Idlling 
him. 

The  man  above  went  on  until  he  reached  the  top  of  the  i-ocks. 
At  the  lodge  of  the  old  man.  whose  name  was  Has'honyot  (i.  e.,  "his 
back  is  turned"),  of  the  Odjie(|dah '^*  (Ci'ayfish  or  Lobster)  peo]ile, 
he  stood  a  wiiile.  thinking,  "  this  man  is  at  home,  I  suppose."  Ijooking 
down  aUKing  the  I'ocks,  he  saitl,  "See  where  I  wouiil  fall  if  lie  wei'e 
to  kill  me."  l'ee])ing  into  the  lodge,  he  said:  "Sure  enougii.  he  is 
at  home;  he  is  looking  toward  me  and  nnist  have  been  looking  at  me 
ever  since  I  came  up.  I  wonder  where  that  thing  is  foi'  wiiich  T 
have  come.  I  wonder  whether  that  is  it  hanging  up  tiiei'e.  How 
shall  I  manage  to  get  inside^  IN-rhaps  I  would  bettei-  turn  the 
lodge  over  and  let  it  fall  among  the  rocks."  lie  overturne<l  the 
lodge — down  it  went  over  the  precipice,  wheroipon  he  thought: 
"What  will  ha|)pen  when  it  sti-ikes?  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.  slipi)ing  over  the  edge  of  the  rocks,  he  fell  till  ho 
<)4«15°— 18 20 


306  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  J2 

struck  on  the  topmost  limbs  of  a  great  hickory  tree ;  the  limbs  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  think  it  was  I  who  killed  him  by  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  burn  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 
gi'eat  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  bring  what  you  went  for?" 
he  was  asked.  "  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  Where  is  it,"  was  the  next 
question.  "  Not  far  from  here,  and  I  want  you  to  say  what  shall  be 
done  with  it."  The  chief  replied,  "  Well,  let  us  all  go  there."  There- 
upon all  went  to  the  spot  where  Has'honyot'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  ver}^  magically  powerful 
man;  he  could  kill  me  in  a  moment  if  he  liked:"  then  he  said,  "My 
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 


CLItTIN 
UK  WITT 


]  FICTION  307 


said,  "It  seems  us  thoii<rh  someone  is  talkiiiir."  riicii  scoopinsr  the 
mutter  out  of  <iiie  of  his  eyes  with  JKiif  of  a  chuushell.  he  thiew  it 
away:  then  lie  cleaned  the  other  eye  in  the  .same  way.  Ihnini:  done 
this,  he  looked  ii|),  and.  seeinjr  the  num.  said  :  "  \\'hat  are  you  standinu; 
there  for?  (io  out  I  '  I  do  not  want  you  in  my  lodtre.  I  live  on  the 
top  of  these  ineks  so  as  to  he  alone."  said  the  old  man.  "  I  came  out 
here."  an^wered  the  other,  "in  a  friendly  way.  Come  out.  look 
•irouiul.  and  see  where  yon  live."  On  fToinir  out  and  lookinj;  ai'ound, 
Has'honyot  .saw  that  he  was  in  a  le\('l  eomiliy  and  that  many  people 
lived  about  him.  and  he  wondere<l  how  he  irot  theie,  "Did  1  lii'ing 
it,""  thought  he.  "  from  where  the  wind  blows,  or  not  '.  J  wonder 
whether  my  lodge  was  moving  when  my  head  was  moving  and  bump- 
ing here  and  there.""  "  Well,"  lie  linuUy  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.  "  ( )ur  chief  has  been 
overpowered  and  killed.  A\'e  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 
youi'  best-looking  women  and  send  them  to  me.  I  ask  no  more," 
he  rei)lied.    "  I  will  talk  with  my  friends,""  answered  the  chief. 

Thereupon  the  chief  went  out  and  told  his  people  what  the  old 
nnm  said.  They  talked  together  a  good  while,  saying:  "The  most 
beautiful  women  are  tnarried;  how  can  they  be  given  away?  Per- 
haps we  shouUl  never  see  them  again?"  At  last  the  people  said: 
"  I.iet  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:  "  A\'e  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  liere,  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'honyot's 
back.  "All  i-ight  now.*'  said  Has'honyot;  "youi-  chief  will  be  alive 
tomorrow,  but  in  the  meanwhile  I  do  not  want  any  of  your  jjcople 
around  here.*'  'I'he  people  dispersed,  but  stayed  ai'ound  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  liad  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  Mhat  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,  '■'■Oncn  donda'we  ne  diioher/o"  (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  saffaion  rte  honhehgon,  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 
home,  and  the  M'omen  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.  "  AVe  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  g(it  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  Doononsfaes. 
"Well,  then  you  mtist  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 
yon.  I  did  not  think  you  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- 


HBWITT 


J  FICTION  309 


ing  back  sliirhtly.  thought.  "  Psluiw  !  what  a  coward  I  ami  I  can 
play  tricks  on  the  old  man."  Going;  outside,  he  put  iiis  horns  under 
the  lodge — up  it  Hew  in  the  air  and  then  fell  to  the  ground.  (The 
lodge  was  of  stone."")  "Very  well,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  will  kill 
you."  So  he  went  out.  "  What  aiv  you  doing  ^ ""  he  asketl;  "'  1  think 
you  are  trying  to  thi<i\v  my  lodge  over.  Do  you  want  me  to  cut  your 
head  otl'  again?  I  can  do  it  very  easily,"  he  added.  "AH  I  want," 
replied  Doonongaes,  "'is  that  you  i-elease  the  women."  "1  will  not 
release  them,"  declared  llas'honyot.  "  Vou  must,"  said  Doonongaes, 
and  taking  a  reed,  called  owl's  ari-ow,  he  hit  him  (in  the  hack:  the 
blow  glanced  otl'  without  hurting  the  old  man  a  bit.  Again  Doonon- 
gaes asked,  "Will  you  let  me  have  the  women?"  '"No,"  exclaimed 
llas'honyot.  "  Well,  I  am  going  o\er  tliere  a  short  distance.  I  will 
come  back  soon,"  said  Doonongaes. 

Going  into  the  lodge,  llas'honyot  asked  his  attendants,  the  blood- 
suckers: "What  shall  we  do?  I  think  he  intends  to  kill  us.  Do 
you  tliink  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  jilace  in  which  they  all  lived,  one  great 
lodge — a  mouni^i  lodge.  I'eejMug  in,  he  saw  a  great  many  ])e<)ple 
walking  around.  Immeiliately  one  spoke  to  the  others,  saying, 
'"Hurry  upl  we  ha\e  .some  game  hei-e."  Straigiitway  thei'e  were 
great  confusion  and  crowding  and  rushing  to  and  fro.  Tiiere 
seemed  to  be  rooms  all  ovei-  this  immense  lodge,  above  and  lieiow 
and  on  every  side.  I^ntering,  Doonongaes  said:  "  Let  us  have  jieace. 
I  came  here  to  lead  to  a  work  which  you  will  like:  I  know  you 
will.  I  have  come  to  hire  you  to  Idlj  a  man  over  there."  They  said 
to  one  anotiier,  "Let  us  get  ready  to  go."  U'heir  chief  lived  (iii  a  hill 
near  by,  but  Ihey  did  not  notify  him.  Doonongaes  led  them  to 
Has'honyot's  lodge,  saying,  "  1  want  you  to  l<ill  this  old  man,  liut  do 
not  harm  the  women."  A  great  many  went  into  the  lodge,  tilling  it, 
and  there  was  a  vast  crowd  outside.  Some  time  iiassed,  and  tiien 
Doonongaes  heard  the  old  man  scicam  and  saw  him  i  un  out.  \\  lien 
outside  the  crowd  around  the  lodge  caught  him.  'I'hey  released  the 
women.  They  hurried  iiome,  accom  )anied  by  Doonongaes,  who  left 
the  Djihonsdoncigwen  to  fight  w  itii  tiu'  <iid  man  until  tiiev  th(i\ight  he 
was  tlead.  ^^'hen  the  women  reached  home  they  said.  "  ^\'e  are  now 
the  wives  of  our  great  chief.  Doonongaes."  "Thank  you,  my  daugh- 
ters," said  their  motiier:  "  he  has  saved  you,  and  it  is  right  that  you 
should  live  with  him."  So  Doonongaes  went  to  the  lodge  of  tlie  two 
women  and  did  not  return  to  Ganyodaes. 

After  a  long  time  had  passed  both  women  had  childreJi,  and  lie 
continued  to  Viw  witii  them  initil  one  day  he  said,  "I  am  going  to 
the  place  where  my  friend,  Has'honyot,  used  to  li\e  on  the  high 
rocks."     When  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  rocks,  he  saw  something 


310  SENECA    FfCTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  Ieth.  ann.  32 

lying  on  the  ground,  whereupon  he  said,  "  He  kioks  like  some  of  our 
people."  It  was  the  man  who  had  fallen  over  the  precipice  while 
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  liad  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  man  killing  people,  he  exclaimed,  "Pshaw,  that  man  is  a 
fool !  "  Descending  the  cliff,  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  I  am  guarding  the  land  under  my 
control,"  was  the  reply.  "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  barel}'  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  Tsodiqgwadon.  He  said,  "  I  command  every  rock  of  the  cliff  to 
fall,"  and  every  stone  fell  with  a  great  noise,  only  a  mound  of  earth 
remaining  whei-e  the  cliff  had  just  stood.  Then  Doonongaes  said: 
"  You  have  won.  You  \u\\e  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."  '""^  Tsodiqgwadon  said.  "  I  want  you  to 
let  women  alone.  Every  woman  living  is  mine."  Going  home  to  his 
wives,  Doonongaes  said  to  them,  "  You  are  not  mine  any  longer." 
'"  Why  not,"  they  asked;  "  liave  you  sold  us,  or  have  you  been  beaten 
in  a  game  in  which  you  wagered  us?"  "No;  I  met  a  man  who 
claimed  you,"  he  replied.  "Who  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  liegan  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  me? 


m'w.'Tr]  FICTION  811 

I  have  come  back,"  said  D()()iU)iijj;aes.  "You  Doononpaes?  No;  I 
am  sure  my  master  was  killed  and  thai  his  body  has  decayed  by  this 
time,"  said  Skahiiowa.  "No;  it  is  I.  I  have  come  to  life,"  answered 
Doononirac's.  For  a  time  Skahnowa  was  silent:  at  last  he  said:  "  We 
will  test  this  matter,  (io  to  my  lodge  and  bring  the  hind  quarter  of 
a  bear."  "Very  wt'll."'  replied  Doonongaes,  and  he  started,  disap- 
pearing in  the  water  of  the  lake.  Coming  out  at  a  distance  fi'om  the 
lodge,  he  killed  a  bear  and.  without  ha\ing  gone  to  Skahnowa's  lodge, 
brought  a  hind  (juarter.  Skahnowa  said :  "  You  went  quickly.  Did 
you  bi'ing  what  I  sunt  you  for?"  "Yes.  Here  it  is."  replied  Doon- 
ongaes. "This  is  fresh.  All  (he  bear  meat  I  had  home  was  I'oasted. 
You  are  not  Doonongaes.  (io  out  of  (his  lodge."  said  Skahnowa. 
Beginning  to  cry.  Doonongaes  went  out.  Skahnowa  then  s(ai(ed  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  to  give  u[)  my 
lodge."  He  went  back  but  did  no(  find  Skahnowa  there,  so  he  took 
possession.  The  next  day  a(  noon  Skahnowa  ie(urned  just  as  Doon- 
ongaes was  ready  to  eat.  "  What  are  you  here  for?"  asked  Skahnowa. 
"  I  told  you  to  go  away."  "  ^^'hy  should  1  give  up  my  lodge?  "  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  moi'uing  Skahnowa  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.  lie  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  e<iual  magical  strenglh.  they 
fought  day  and  night  for  one  month.'""  Then  Skahnowa  said:  "We 
wtiukl  bettei-  st()|)  fighting.  I  thiidv  neither  of  us  can  cont|uer." 
"  Yes,"  replied  Doonongaes.  "it  is  useless  to  fight  longei"  but  I  want 
you  to  promise  not  to  ordei-  me  out  of  my  own  lodge  again."  "Very 
well,"  answered  Skahnowa,  "  you  may  keej)  (he  lodge;  the  owner  of  it 
was  killed  long  ago."  Doonongaes  ask'ed :  "Do  you  not  really  know 
me?"    "  1  know  my  master  is  dead."  said  Skahnowa. 

Dooiumgaes  now  went  back  to  the  lodge,  thinking:  "  ITow  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.  \\\'  pe()i)le  of  orenda, 
or  magic  power,"^"  ku(jw  immediately  what  is  going  on.  All  (he  peo- 
ple of  magic  power  are  sdrred  up  now.  and  if  you  wish  to  live,  you 
must  gu  to  Tsodiqgwadon.  All  these  peoi)le  fear  him.  Vou  must 
get  up  and  go  now,  for  these  people  will  be  here  exactly  as  the  sun 


31^  SEKECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

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  journej^ed  on.  He  foimd  Tsodiqgwadon  at  the  same 
place  where  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?  "  retoi'ted  Tsodiqgwadon.  "  But  the  tracks  made 
by  him  are  fresh,"  was  the  other's  repl}'.  "  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  j'ou  do  not,  then  go  home," 
said  Tsodiqgwadon.     The  man  then  started  for  home. 

This  man  was  barelv  out  of  sight  when  thej'  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  w^ay  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.  ^Vliat  do  you  come  for?  I  do  not 
want  you  in  my  lodge,"  declared  Tsodiqgwadon.  "Why  do  you  hide 
Doonongaes?"  rejoined  Niagwnihe.  "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.  Tlie  man  went  out  to  look:  then,  coming 
back,  he  said,  "  No;  it  is  as  I  told  yoti :  his  trail  comes  in  here."  "  Do 
you  want  to  fight  him?  "  asked  Tsodiqgwadon.  "Xo:  I  merely  came 
to  see  him,"  was  the  reply.  "  If  you  do  not  go  away  I  will  kill  you," 
said  Tsodiqgwadon.  "You  know  wliat  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 
you,"  said  Tsodiqg^vadon.  Xiagwaihe  disappeared.  "Now,"  said 
Tsodiqgwadon  to  Doonongaes,  who  was  standing  just  behind  him, 
"  come  out  of  your  hiding  place." 


f^'^^S]  FICTION  313 

They  had  barely  sat  down  in  tlie  lodsie  wlien  footsteps  were  heai'd 
again  and  Djiiinosgowii  '""  rushed  into  tlie  lodge,  saying,  "  Yes;  tiiis 
is  the  man  for  whom  I  ha\e  come."  Seizing  Doonongaes  by  the  hair 
he  |)ulied  him  out  of  doors.  Tsodicigwadon  followed  tlieni.  AViieii 
outside  he  saw  Djainosgowa  waliving  otl'  with  Doonongaes  on  his 
shouldei-.  "  lie  has  taken  away  m_v  friend,  who  came  to  live  with 
me.  Never  mind,"  said  'rsodi(|g\vadon  to  himself,  going  bad':  into 
the  lodge  and  beginning  to  smoice.  Tiien  he  tliought :  "  I'orhaps  I 
would  better  go  to  he!])  him.  'J'hey  may  i<ill  him."  So,  following 
Djainosgowa's  trail,  he  found  hini  sitting  down  talking  with  Doonon- 
gaes, and  asking,  "  How  did  you  come  to  think  that  you  have  orenda? 
Why  did  3'ou  want  to  kill  your  servant?"  Tsodi<]gwadon  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  had  made  himself  invisible 
to  them.  All  at  once  Tsodiqgwadon  seized  Doonongaes  and,  ])utting 
him  on  his  back,  said,  "  Let  us  go  home.  What  is  the  use  of  being 
here  ? " 

After  T.sodiqgwadon  had  gone  a  few  steps  Djainosgowa  found, 
on  looking  around,  tliat  Doonongaes  had  disappeared.  He  searciied 
everywhere  for  him.  At  last  he  said,  "  Pshaw  !  I  think  Tsodiqg- 
wadon took  him  away."  wheren]H)n  lie  started  back.  A\'heu 
Tsodiqgwadon  reached  home,  he  said  to  Doonongaes,  "  We  will  sit 
right  down  here.  Djainosgowa  will  l)e  back  soon."  Almost  im- 
mediately Djainosgowa  came  in  and  asked,  "  Have  you  seen  Doonon- 
gaes? ""  "No;  you  jerked  him  out  of  my  lodge.  'J'hat  is  the  last  1 
have  seen  of  him,"  declared  Tsodicjgwadon.  Djainosgowa  said,  "I 
believe  you  are  jilaying  tricks  on  me.  Where  did  .vou  leave  iiim?" 
'■  A\'hy  do  you  accuse  uie?  Go  home  I  I  am  tired  of  you,"  said 
Tsodiqgwadon.  "  I  \\  ant  to  see  Doonongaes,"  replied  Djainosgowa. 
'•  (Jo  out  of  here  I  "  exclaimed  Tsodi(jgwad(in.  "  I  will  not  go  until  1 
am  satisfied,"  persisted  the  visitor.  "  I  tell  you  to  go.  Can  you  not 
understand?"  said  Tsodi(]gwadon,  getting  up  and  going  toward 
Djainosgowa.  who  jumped  out  of  the  lodge,  saying.  "•  Oh  I  do  not  be 
angry.  I  did  not  come  with  any  bad  feelings."  "Go  home."  rejilied 
Tsodiqgwadon,  "or  I  will  iieat  you."  Djainosgowa  had  to  go.  for 
he  was  con(|uere<l  i\v  supei'ior  orenda.  Then  Tsodiqgwadon  said  to 
Doonongaes.  "  \\'hat  ha\e  you  done  to  all  these  people  tliat  they 
come  here  after  you?"  '"I  had  fought  with  Skahnowa.  who  had 
taken  my  lodge,"  re|)lii'd  Doonongaes.  "We  fought  for  one  inonlli, 
and  because  we  fought  so  long  all  the  jieople  having  magic  power 
around  the  world  are  excited:  that  is  all."  "' I..et  us  go  to  your 
lodge,"  said  Tsodiqgwadon.  "1  should  like  to  see  \'our  servant  who 
is  so  powerful  in  orenda." 


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

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  you  doing  in  here?  Go  out!"  "Oh!  be  quiet," 
said  Tsodiqgwadon.  "Well,  what  right  have  you  in  my  lodge?" 
answered  Skahnowa.  "Be  reasonable,"  said  Tsodi(igwadon. 
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- 
j)lied  Tsodiqgwadon.  "  It  is  a  great  annoyance  to  have  people  come 
to  try  the  strength  of  Doonongaes  since  your  fight  with  him  took 
place."  "Is  that  man  there  my  ma.ster?  "  asked  Skahnowa.  "  Yes: 
he  is,"  replied  Tsodiqgwadon.  "How  came  he  to  be  alive  again?" 
Skahnowa  asked.  "  That  is  nothing  strange  among  us  people  of 
great  magic  power — persons  who  are  possessed  of  potent  orenda.  We 
die  and  become  alive  again  ;^"'  that  is  the  way  it  was  with  Doonon- 
gaes." said  Tsodiqgwadon.  "  Now  I  imderstand,"  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  scrap  was  left.  "What  are  j'ou  going  to  do  now?"  asked 
Tsodiqgwadon.  "  The  best  I  can  do,"  said  Doonongaes,  "  is  to  go 
home  with  you  and  you  can  give  me  a  couple  of  women  to  live  with. 
Skalinowa  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. 
rhey  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  Tsodiqgwadon  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  10  days  had  passed  Tsodiqgwadon  went  to 
the  place  where  the  women,  Hanondon  and  Hawiqson(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. 


m'w.'rT]  FICTIOX  .  315 

"Where  h:is  he  gone?"  asked  Tsodiqgwadon.  "  AVe  do  not  know," 
said  tliev,  "he  did  not  stay  here:  he  went  off  the  first  night  you  left 
him."    ••  Psliaw  I  let  him  go,"'  said  he.  and  Tsodicjgwadon  went  home. 

At  the  end  of  10  days  Doonongaes  eame  to  a  large  village  in  which 
all  the  people  wore  feather  headdresses.  The  chief  of  the  village, 
Gasaisdowanen,''''  asked  Doonongiies,"  What  did  you  come  here  foi' ^  " 
"To  make  a  visit,"  replied  Doonongaes.  "Who  will  take  thi.s  man 
to  his  lodge?"  asked  the  ciiief.  "He  may  go  with  me."  called  out 
one  man.  so  Doonongaes  ii\cJ  with  him.  After  a  few  days,  news 
came  to  the  chief  th;it  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  light  the  western  people.  In  two  days  he  had 
500  volunteers,  among  whom  was  Dooiujngaes.  The}'  started,  women 
going  Avith  them  until  the  night  of  the  first  day.  The  next  morning 
when  the  warriors  went  on  the  women  returned  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  the  chief  said.  ■"  Let  one  man  he  on 
guard  all  night."  Doonongaes  volunteered  to  do  this  sentijiel  duty. 
He  kept  the  fires  burning  and  watched.  About  midnight  he  heaixl  a 
great  war  whoop  and,  saying  to  himself, "I  do  not  want  to  die."  he 
ran  off.  The  western  people,  who  were  Dagwanocnyents,  came  to 
the  spot  where  the  people  were  asleep  and  killed  and  scalped  every 
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, 
whereupon  he  thought,  "I  will  go  to  the  wives  of  these  men  and 
take  them  all." 

When  Doonongaes  retui'ned  to  the  \  illage  he  called  the  women 
together,  and  said.  "I  wish  to  tell  you  that  your  husbands  aie  killed. 
and  that  I  will  marry  all  of  you."  After  talking  the  matter  ovei- 
all  the  women  except  one  were  finally  w'illing  to  accept  the  proposal. 
Doonongaes  said,  "Very  well;  1  will  settle  with  the  unwilling  one." 
He  stayed  one  night  at  each  woman's  lodge.  AVhen  he  came  to  the 
tmwilling  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.''  refei-ring  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. 

(joing  southwai-d,  Doonongaes  traveled  until  evening,  'ihat 
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  sleeji 


316  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [bth.ann.S2 

when  he  heard  someone  walking  on  the  leaves  who,  coming  to  the 
opening  of  his  camp,  said:  '"  Doonongaes,  are  you  here^  AVhat 
would  you  do  if  Hononeowanen  '"'^  should  come  here  'i ''  "  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 !  "  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  he  the  most  powerful  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.  Enterms  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  foimd  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 
here,"  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.  "  Xiagwaihe  has  eaten  them  all.  To- 
morrow, perhaps,  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 


T:r-i]  FICTIOX  317 


CUIITIN 
HE 


thiiijrs — wain]Muii,  shells,  and  valualile  skins :  there  were  many  peojile 
and  lod<ros.  At't<"r  they  had  seen  all  the  villaire,  Ilostovowanen  said: 
"  Now,  you  must  not  stay  any  longer.  I  do  not  want  you  to  die 
here.  Kun  southward  and  you  may  be  saved.''  The  chief  went  home 
and  Doonongaes  went  soutiiwaixl.  lie  ran  fast,  and  when  night  came 
he  slept  in  a  iiojlow  tree.  The  next  morninii  he  said,  "  I  am  going 
westward.  I  tlo  not  mind  what  that  chief  said."  Toward  miilday 
he  was  hungry.  He  said :  ''  Oh !  my  neck  is  sore;  it  has  been  sore  for 
a  long  time  and  feels  as  thougli  something  were  in  it.  How  can  I 
cure  it^  "  Having  found  a  spring,  he  lay  down  to  driidv  from  it,  hut 
s-aw  the  reflection  of  someone  in  the  water.  ''  Oh  !  that  looks  like  my 
wife,  Hawi(ison(t).  \\'hy  is  her  face  rellected  in  this  water?  I  inr 
far  from  her  now.  'J'his  is  strange,"  mused  Doonougaes.  Being 
frightened,  he  did  not  drink  but,  jumping  up,  he  ran  toward  the 
south,  forgetting  which  way  he  was  going.  He  ran  all  night.  ,Iust  at 
daylight  he  fell  down  from  weakness.  "Why,"  thought  lie,  "am  1 
getting  so  heavy  and  weak?  Is  it  becau.se  I  am  hungry^"  He  lay 
there  and  could  not  I'ise;  he  was  too  hungry,  for  he  had  not  eaten 
anything  for  a  whole  year.'*"  He  thought :  '•  AVell,  there  is  no  need  of 
my  standing  uj).  I  am  a  snake."  Changed  from  a  man  into  a  great 
snake,  he  went  on.  saying.  "AVell,  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  jtoor.  "  I  want 
to  stay  with  you  a  few  days,"  said  Doonougaes.  "I  have  nothing  to 
eat,"  answered  the  old  woman.  "I  want  merely  to  sleep;  I  do  not 
care  for  eating,"  Doonougaes  replied.  "Then  you  may  sta}',"  said 
the  old  woman.  The  ne.xt  morning,  liefore  she  was  out  of  bed,  Doon- 
ougaes asked,  "  Had  you  a  family  long  ago?  "  "  Yes."  she  answered, 
"  a  long  time  ago  I  was  married  and  had  a  large  family,  but  only  two 
ere  living  now."  "Well,"  said  Doonougaes,  "you  must  have  kept  a 
bow  and  arrows."  "  Loolc  around."  said  tlie  old  woman  to  her  grand- 
daughter, "and  see  whether  you  can  lind  a  bow  and  arrows."  After 
hunting  for  tiiem,  at  last  she  found  a  bow  and  arrows.  Doonougaes 
straightened  the  arrows  antl  strung  the  1)0W.  Tiien  he  shot  through 
the  smoke  hole,  saying  to  the  arrow,  "(Jo  for  a  large  bear."  Soon 
they  heard  the  soiuid  of  approaching  footsteps  and  then  of  some- 
thing falling  in  front  of  the  door,  at  which  the  old  woman  said:  "I 
think  thai  man  Dagadiye  has  come  again.  foi-  he  is  always  rushing 
th.rough  the  \illage.  He  does  not  kill,  but  he  chases  our  iieojjle." 
Doonougaes  laughed  at  her  words.  "  A\"hy  ilo  you  laughs"  asked 
the  old  widow.  "  I  laugh  at  w hat  you  say,"  lejilied  Doonongaes. 
"Well,  what  do  you  think  the  noise  wasT'  she  a.sked.  "I  do  not 
know."  said  Doonongaes.  "  do  and  see."  (ioing  to  the  door,  she 
exclaimed,  "  Flwu!  II  wu!  There  is  a  great  bear  here  I"  The  ol<l 
woman   made   a   hole  under  the   jaw   of  the   bear   and.   putting   her 


318  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

Uuiml)  into  the  incision,  she  tore  off  the  skin.  Then  cutting  open  the 
body,  she  took  out  the  intestines,  after  which  she  hung  up  the  meat. 
'J'hen  she  began  to  think:  *'  Wliy  did  this  bear  come?  AVho  sent  it?  " 
Finally  she  asked,  "  ily  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  there  all  day,  while  the  grandmother  cooked. 
']"he  next  morning  he  heard  a  noise.  A  messenger  came  in,  saying: 
'•  I  have  come  to  notify  you  that  the  daughter  of  our  chief,  Dej'ene- 
gonsdasden,'*^  is  to  be  married  to  the  man  who  can  shoot  the  black 
eagle  perched  on  the  top  of  a  pole  that  reaches  to  the  clouds;  the 
siiooting  begins  at  midday."  Doonongaes  said,  "  I  can  marry  the 
'thief's  daughter,  for  I  can  kill  any  one  of  the  eagles,  even  when 
flying  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  wei'e  around  the  pole, 
when  the  chief  said,  "  Now,  do  j'ou  begin."  Doonongaes  saw  through 
the  smoke-hole  how  the  arrows  flew.  Each  man  trietl  twice,  but  none 
of  the  arrows  went  near  the  taz-get.  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  straiglit  to  the  eagle  and  pierce  it.  The  eagle  fell,  while 
the  arrow  transfixing  it  stuck  into  the  ground,  taking  root  so  deep 
that  no  one  was  able  to  pull  it  out.  Every  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  nw  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.  siie  pulled  it  out 
easily. 

"  My  daughter  is  married  now,"  said  Dej^enegonsdasden,  so  he  sent 
two  men  for  Doonongaes.  They  found  him  by  the  fire  at  the  widow's 
lodge.  When  they  told  him  to  come  to  the  chief's  lodge,  he  asked, 
"  Why  does  the  chief  send  for  me?  "  "*  "  He  watits  you  to  marry  his 
daugiiter,  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.  ves !  she  is  verv  beau- 


^,";,'j,T,'i>:;]  FICTION  319 

tiful,"  the  iiicii  replied.  "AW'li."  said  Dooiioiigiu's,  "it  would 
be  a  shame  for  tiie  tt)  marry  her;  I  am  loo  nasty  a  man."  They  tried 
hard  to  pei'suade  him,  but  he  woidd  not  <r<).  Then  they  tried  to  tie 
him.  but  he  hurled  them  away.  E\en  alter  tryinjz  all  day  they 
could  not  bind  him.  A\'hen  nii^ht  came  they  said.  "  \\'e  might  as 
well  <j:i\c  up  uud  go  home.'"  A\'lien  they  went  back  they  told  the 
chief.  ■■  ^\'e  can  ^lo  nothing  with  him."  Then  the  chief  said  to  his 
daughter,  "  You  uuist  go  to  him.'"  As  her  father  told  her  that  she 
must  go,  the  girl  went.  She  entei-etl  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  I  will 
not  marry  you."  said  Doonongaes.  "  Are  you  sure  you  will  not 
mai'rv  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  huiidi-ed  wives.  Farther  on  T  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  tco  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  Docuiongaes  himself  began 
to  cry.  The  old  woman  asked  :  "  Wh.it  is  the  matter?  Why  do  you 
cry?"  No  answei-.  Then  she  herself  began  to  cry.  Iler  grand- 
daughter, coming  in  and  seeing  that  all  were  crying,  began  to  get 
loiu'ly  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 
crying,  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.  I  mu.st 
go  over  there."  When  neai-,  he.  too.  heard  the  sound  of  crying,  at 
which  his  heart  gi-ew  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  everything.  When  he 
fame  to  his  .senses  he  was  sitting  at  the  side  of  the  old  w'idow. 
"  Hroad-Shoulders."  He  did  not  know  where  he  was.  He  was  not 
crying,  merely  thinking  wiiy  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,  "  AVho  said  that?  "  and,  on  looking  up,  she  saw 
the  chief  of  the  village,  whereupon  she  asked,  "Why  are  you  here? 
I  never  saw  3'ou  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  liis  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  tm  his  knees 
and  his  head  resting  on  tlie  paJms  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 :  "  W  hat  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  everywliere.  I  am  second  in  magic  power  in  the 
entire  world — that  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.  "  Tsodiqgvvadon,  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  you  here,"  Doonongaes  added. 

The  chief  and  his  daughter  then  returned  home,  whereupon  Doon- 
ongaes began  to  laugh.  The  old  woman  asked,  "  Wliy  do  you 
laugh?"  "Oil!  I  am  laughing  at  the  chief,  for  his  daughter  very 
much  wants  to  get  married."  The  old  woman  replied.  "  You  would 
better  stop  laughing  aiid  appoint  some  one  to  marry  her  instead  of 
yourself  "  "  Well,  grandmother,  you  must  go  and  find  some  ])oor 
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."  Wiien  she  got  to  the  place  she  said  to 
the  '•  Shabby  Man,"  "  I  have  come  to  have  you  marry  ?  "  "  AVho  would 
marry  me?  Nobody  wants  me,"  said  the  man.  "Oh,  yes!  I  can 
tind  you  a  wife,  a  beautiful  one,  too,"  was  her  answer.  The  "  Shabby 
Man  "  said,  "All  right,"  and  went  home  with  the  old  wonum.  Doon- 
ongaes asked:  "Are  you  the  nuin?  Do  you  want  to  marry?  "  "  Yes. 
I  should  liUe  to  marry,  if  anybody  would  have  me,"  replied  the  man. 
Doonongaes  said  to  the  widow's  granddaughter,  "  Go  to  the  chief  and 


^;^;?f]  FICTION  321 

say  tliat  Doonoajraes  will  marry  liis  daughter  now."  80  slio  told  the 
chief  what  he  said.  "  Very  well,"  he  answered,  sending  his  daughter 
to  the  old  woman's  hut.  Dooiiongaes  asked  her.  "  Do  you  want  to 
marry  mc^"  "  Yes;  t'oi-  you  killed  the  ea<ile,"  she  replied.  "  \\'ould 
it  please  you  if  I  should  ai)]>oiiit  a  man  to  maii'v  you  ^  "  Doouou- 
gaes  added.  '"  Ves,"  was  the  girl's  answer.  "This  is  the  man  I  ap- 
point," declaied  Doonongaes.  Turning  to  tiie  "  Shabby  Man,"  the 
girl  said,  "Come,  we  will  go  home  to  my  father's  lodge."  At  this 
(he  man  laughed  for  gladness. 

Doonongaes  s])ent  a  whole  year  with  the  old  Nxoman.  One  morn- 
ing he  said:  "  Now,  I  am  going  to  the  southern  end  of  the  earth.  I 
want  to  know  how  tiling.^  are  there."  "  N'ery  well,"  i'eplie<l  the 
grandmother.  "Come  in  on  youi-  way  liack,"  slu'  saiil.  ■"  1  will,"  said 
Doonongaes.  lie  left  all  the  w;impum  with  the  old  wdinan,  foi'  if 
he  wanted  any  he  had  oidy  to  ery  iii  order  to  get  it.  After  ti'axeling 
all  day  and  all  night,  in  the  morning  he  came  to  a  great  opening  in 
the  woods.  As  he  sto<jd  looking  ai'ound  the  place,  he  saw  some  dark 
object  in  the  west.  Looking  very  sharply,  he  said  :  "  \\'hal  is  tiiat 
dark  tiling^  Is  some  one  watching?  "  lie  stocxl  theie  a  good  while. 
Just  at  midday,  seeing  that  the  object  was  lying  down,  he  thought  : 
"  ^Vhat  can  that  be  ^  I  must  go  there  and  .see."  He  ran  tliither  as 
swiftly  as  he  could,  and  on  coining  to  a  jiiece  of  smooth  ground, 
llici-e  he  found  one  id'  the  I  )jaiiU)Sgowa  family.  The  one  that  had 
been  standing  up  was  the  old  man  who  guarded  the  opening:  he  was 
now  lying  tlown  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  ik  t  want  these 
Djainos  people  to  kill  me.'' 

So  Doonongaes  ran  a  whole  monlh,  d:iy  ;iiid  night,  until  he  i-eachnl 
the  lodge  of  Tsodiiigwadon,  whom  he  foiuul  sitting  by  the  lire  with 
his  head  hanging  down.  When  he  looked  up  and  saw  Doonongaes 
he  said.  "Oh,  my  friend  !  are  you  alive^  ''  "  '\'es;  I  have  been  trav- 
eling," said  Doonongaes.  "Why  did  you  lea\e  your  two  wi\es'" 
asked  'l'sodi(|gwadon.  "Oh!  I  do  not  think  those  women  good 
enough  I'or  me:  they  are  too  ugly,"  was  his  answer.  "Why  did  you 
ti'Il  me  you  wanted  (hem^  "  he  was  asked.  "  I  did  not  want  them.  I 
wanted  good -1 00k iiiiz  women,"  he  said.  "  A\'ell,  you  can  not  have  two 
beautiful  women,"  declared  his  (juestioner.  Soon  they  heard  a  noise, 
at  which  Ts<)di(|gwa(lon  said,  "Sit  down  behind  me."  .V  stranger, 
entei'ing,  asked,  "Have  you  seen  Doonongaes  f  "  "1  have  not."  an- 
sweretl  Tsodi(igwadon.  "  \\'ell.  I  ha\e  tiacked  him  to  this  lodge," 
cniiu'  the  reply.  "  Whnt  of  it?  I  have  not  seen  him"  was  the  reply. 
"  ^  ou  nuist  ha\e  hidden  him,"  persisted  the  stranger.  "No;  I  tell 
you  I  haxe  not  seen  him."  The  stranger,  who  was  Djainosgowa,  and 
04til5°— 18 21 


322  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  3-- 

who  had  followed  Doonongaes  from  the  great  opening,  now  said, 
"  I  must  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  Uie  northern  end  of  the  earth  and  see 
how  my  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,  "  Deanohdjes.""    He  is  of  the  Geia  ^"  people." 

Doonongaes  immediatel_y  started  on  the  journey.  He  traveled  day 
and  night  for  a  whole  year,'*-  but  could  not  reach  the  northern  end  of 
the  earth.  One  morning  he  said,  "  I  do  not  beliexe  I  shall  ever  get 
to  the  place  where  Deanohdjes  live.?."  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  foi-  another  whole  year.  Then  he 
thought  again :  "  How  much  farther  must  I  go?  I  am  very  far  away 
from  Hanging  Kock."  (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  from  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,"  rejilied  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  fntlier'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  fartliei-.  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 
fii'e  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  nnist  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  continued  :  "  I 
have  been  wishing  for  a  long  time  that  you  would  arrive,  for  I  knew 


Z^l^]  FK'TION  323 

yoii  wiTo  (■oiiiiiii^.  Now.  lu'plu'w.  T  liavo  a  panic  \\liii-li  1  always 
l)lay  when  anyone  visits  ine — it  is  a  foot  race.  W'v  run  fi'oni  one 
LTid  to  tlio  other  of  the  narrow  opeiiin<r."  "  I  have  notliinsx  to  het.'' 
replied  huonoiifraes.  *'()li!"  replieil  the  old  man,  "liet  your  head." 
"Very  well."  said  Doonongaes.  "AA'ait  a  while,"  said  the  old  man; 
•■  I  will  tell  yon  when  I  am  I'eady,"  and  he  went  into  anoliiei-  room. 
Ddononiraes,  making  himself  invisihlc,  followed  him.  The  old  man 
had  a  hark  canoe  theiv.  in  which  was  a  living  thing  that  seemed  to 
l:e  without  hones,  heing  a  mass  of  flesh  ahout  2  feet  long,  in  the 
shape  of  a  lizard.  As  the  old  man  rubbed  his  hand  over  it.  a  fluid 
resembling  nulk  came  out  of  the  living  object,  with  which  the  old 
man  rublied  his  hands  and  his  whole  body.  Doonongaes  also  rubbed 
himself  \Yith  the  juice  before  going  out.  'Ihen  (he  contestants  placed 
themselves  at  the  end  of  the  opening.  whereu|>on  the  old  man  said. 
"I  will  stai't  just  as  the  sun  comes  to  the  nnddle  of  the  sky."  They 
stood  watching  until  the  sun  was  exactly  in  tlic  middle  of  (lie  sky. 
'J'hen  they  started.  The  old  man.  throwing  out  his  aims,  pushed 
Doonongaes  far  liack.  The  latter,  springing  up.  howcxer.  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."  'i'hey  ran 
on  until  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when  they  reached  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  :  "  T  haxc  won.  Now  I  will  take  ofl"  your  head." 
"Well,"  said  the  old  man.  "I  will  have  a  smoke  first."''"'  "  Oil.  no," 
said  Doonongaes.  cutting  off  the  old  man's  hi-ad  at  once. 

Then  Doonongaes  co-itinued  his  journey  norlhwaid.  tra\i'lin<:  for 
two  days  and  nights,  ^^'hen  he  tired  of  walking  he  turned  into 
a  long  horned  snake.  Soon,  seeing  a  great  black  cloud  coming  with 
rain  and  thunder,  he  thought.  "  Hiuoii  '""  wants  to  kill  iiic  ":  hence  he 
went  down  into  the  earth  so  fai'  that  Ilinon  roidd  not  ri'ach  him. 
After  staying  there  a  good  while,  he  said.  ""  1  must  go  on":  so  he 
changed  himself  into  a  man  again  on  account  <d'  his  di-ead  of  Ilinon. 
He  soon  came  to  a  ri\cr.  on  the  bank  of  wiiicli  he  stoo(l,  wondering 
how  he  was  to  cross.  He  went  along  the  bank  to  the  ]ioint  where  the 
river  entered  a  lake.  There  he  thought.  "T  must  change  myself  into 
a  snake  and  go  into  tiie  water."  After  cro.ssing  he  became  a  man 
;igain  so  Ilinon  would  not  pursu(>  him. 

Doonongaes  journeyed  on  a  whole  month.  ( )ne  nioining  he  came 
to  an  opening  called  (iendagwen  (t).'""  whci-e  he  >aw  nothing.  Having 
jiassed  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  disaxnce  apart  at  night,  wdien  he  thought.  "  I  can  rot  citch 
her.  so  I  may  as  well  camp."  Picking  up  some  dry  sticks,  he  made- 
a  fire.     Od  looking  around  he  saw  that  the  woman  had  camped  ju.st. 


324  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  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  baciv  to  my  own  fire  and  stay  there."  When  he 
reached  his  camping  place  the  woman  was  back  again  at  her  first 
fire.  He  followed  her  all  the  next  day,  always  at  the  same  distance. 
On  reaching  an  opening  she  went  into  a  lodge.  Following,  he 
found  her  sitting  on  one  side  of  the  fire,  and  an  old  man  on  the 
other  side  with  his  head  bowed.  Seating  himself  near  the  woman. 
Doonongaes  asked  her,  "  Do  you  not  want  to  marry  me  ?  "  She 
made  no  reply.  He  asked  again,  "Will  you  marry  me?"  He 
asked  three  times,  but  received  no  reply.  Then  the  old  man,  who 
was  a  Dagwanocnyent  (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  nuised :  "What 
trouble  comes  to  iue ;  I  shall  die  aow.  This  is  because  I  tried  to 
catcli  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  iiis  own  knee.  He  fell  down  on  account  of  the  pain,  but  spitting 
on  his  liands,  he  rubbed  the  wound,  thus  curing  it  instantly.  Then 
springing  up,  he  ran  on.  All  day  he  followed  Doonongaes.  Many 
times  he  cut  himself  as  hj  did  tlie  first  time,  but  always  healed  the 
■woimd  with  spittle.  At  sunset  Doonongaes  said.  "What  a  shame! 
1  ought  to  kill  tiiat  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  tliey  fliw,  owls.  Ho  made  the  old  man's 
flesh  into  all  kinds  of  birds."'' 

Then  he  said,  "  Now.  I  will  go  back  to  the  girl :  it  may  be  that  she 
will  mari-y  me."  Reaching  the  lodge  just  at  midniglit.  he  went  in  and 
said  to  the  girl,  "  Your  gi-andfather  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  Duo- 
nongaes.  "Very  well."  she  replied;  "I  was  afraid  of  the  old  man — 
this  is  why  I  did  not  answer  your  questions  at  first."  Doonongaes 
stayed  with  (Janos,-""  for  that  was  the  girl's  name,  a  whole  month. 
Then  he  said  one  morning,  "I  must  continue  my  journey." 

So  Door.ongaes  set  out,  and  after  traveling  northward  for  IG  days 
and  nights,  he  came  to  the  edge  -"'  of  the  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 


'^^^""'■•1  ,  FICTION  825 

Silt  tliere.  Donnonijacs  Siiid.  "  I  h:n  e  come  to  visit  yon."  Tlie  old 
ninn  ilid  not  hear.  Thrice  Doonoiiijaes  sjxike  luit  received  no  answer. 
Tiien  he  looked  for  a  club.  Findinj^  one,  he  liit  the  ohi  man  im  tlie 
top  of  the  head,  savinfr.  "  Do  you  not  lieai'  ine  ^ ""  Tlie  ohi  man  never 
mo\ed.  out  nuitteiccL  "Mice  mnst  lia\e  fallen  from  al>o\e  my  heatl. 
\o  matter."  Dooiioiigaes.  thinking  wliat  kind  of  man  is  this, 
striu'k  him  a<rain.  Tiierenpon  the  old  man,  iil'tinj;  up  his  hair  and 
tying  it  back  so  that  he  could  see,  asked,  "  What  aie  yoti  iiere  f  oi' ? "' 
"  I  came  to  visit  you."  said  Doonongaes.  "  1  do  not  want  a  \  isit  from 
you.  He  off  I '"  he  commanded.  Doonongaes.  wlio  was  nearly  freez- 
ing to  death  from  the  extiH'me  cold,  retorted:  "  Be  (juietl  do  not  get 
excited."  "Ohi  1  do  not  care  for  othei'  people,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  What  did  you  come  here  for?  "  "  1  came  to  ask  a  (juestion.  Do  you 
know  where  Deanohdjes  lives T'  asked  Doonongaes.  ''Yes;  he 
lives  in  the  middk'  of  the  ice  hdie  over  yonder,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  Do  you  know  wiiether  he  is  at  home  today '."  said  Doonongaes. 
•■  ()\\.  you  couhl  not  go  to  him  today;  it  used  to  take  me  10-"-  day^and 
nights  to  go  to  his  place,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Is  there  a  tiaii  '.  "  in- 
(jiiired  Doonongaes.  "  Yes,  y(iu  will  lind  my  tracks,"  said  the  old 
man,  who  was  a  white  hear. 

■  Now  it  gi'ew  t-oldei-  and  colder  while  Doonongaes  traveled  half  a 
day  before  he  reached  the  place  where  Tsodi(|gwadon"s  father  lived. 
He  found  an  open  sjjace  in  the  ice.  After  standing  there  a  while  he 
saw  a  man  witii  gieat  teeth  rising  from  the  water.  The  man  said 
to  Doonongaes.  "  What  do  you  come  here  for?  "  "  ^'our  son  sent  me. 
There  is  to  be  a  great  council  at  Bi-oijen  Land.  All  the  people  of  the 
world  will  be  there,"  answered  Doonongaes.  "  \\'hat  is  tiie  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  dclav.  In 
10-'°^  days  he  was  at  Hanging  Kock.  Tsodiqgwadon  asked."  I  la  \(' you 
seen  my  father?"  "  Yes,"  replied  Doonongaes.  ''Well,  what  did  he 
.say?"  was  the  next  (piestion.  "He  said  that  he  would  start  in  'iO 
days,"  answered  Doonongaes.  "  Let  us  go  to  Broken  Land."  said 
Tsodiqgwadon.  They  started,  but  as  they  had  10  day.s"  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.  "  \\'lio  is  that  coming?"  asked  Tsodiqgwadon:  "  he 
looks  like  a  chief.  What  a  great  headdi-ess  he  has!  |  He  had  lonsr 
feathers  and  much  wampum.]  He  looks  like  a  gi'cat  man.  for  his 
face  is  painted  red  and  black."  Doonongaes  said,  '•  I^et  us  chase 
him."  "What  shall  we  do  witii  him  if  we  catch  him?"  asked 
Tsodiqgwadon.  "T  will  take  hold  of  his  head  and  you  of  his  feet, 
and  thus  we  will  .stretch  him,"  answered  Doonongaes.    "Very  well," 


326  SENECA    FICT1(*N,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTH5  imn.  ixx.  32 

said  Tsodiqgwrtdon.  When  they  met,  Doonongaes  asked  the  stranger. 
''  Where  are  you  going  { "'  '"  To  the  north,  to  see  the  phice  where  AVhite 
Hair  lives,"  was  the  reply.  ''  AVhat  would  you  do  if  I  should 
wrestle  with  3'ou?"  inquired  Doonongaes.  "  Oh  I  I  should  like 
that,"  he  said.  So  they  begun  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  arms 
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  great  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 
you."  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.-"'  Tsodiqgwadon  changed  the  man  into  an  owl,  after  which 
they  went  on. 

Just  at  midday  the  two  came  to  a  clilf.  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 
clitT  was  a. plain,  or  opening,  with  the  cliti  hanging  over  one  side  of 
it.  The  plain  had  three  points — a  noithern,  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  clitf  ?  "  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 


f.'^^^S]  FICTION  327 

master":  with  this  I'emark  lie  stui'tefl  toward  the  entrance,  while 
Doonongaes  hurried  otV  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  Odauhd  jah -""  in 
stone  mortars.  The  eldest  asUed,  "  Do  you  not  smell  the  Mesh  of 
iii.in^"  '•  Ye.s,"  replied  tiie  others.  '•  AVell.  hurry  up.  take  your 
(lulls  and  try  to  kill  him,"  she  continued.  Doonongaes  ran  off, 
frightened.  'J'he  women  came  out,  but  could  see  nothing  but  tracks. 
The  old  wonuin,  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  retuined 
to  the  lodge.  The  women  immediately  knew  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  tiic  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 
Idm,  for  they  liked  him.  As  old  Deiehnies  and  the  eldest  girl  came 
in.  the  women  began  to  fight.  (Joing  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 
Hames  were  so  fierce  that  they  could  not  escape,  so  all  were  burned  to 
death.  Thereupon  Doonongaes  said  to  himself:  " '\^■lly  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  conic.  1  will  go  to  find  Tsodicjgwadon." 
Doonongaes  now  went  lo  tiu'  lodge  in  the  north,  but  he  found  no 
one.  Ill'  heard,  however,  a  sound  as  of  ball-playing.  Following  the 
sound  ho  came  to  an  opening,  where  he  saw  his  friend  playing  ball 
with  two  old  men  of  the  Dagwennigonhge -"  people.  It  was  a  clo.se 
game,  and  Doonongaes  .stood  watching  it.  Soon  they  ran  past  him, 
and  Tsodic|g\vadon  called  out. "  )\'hy  do  you  not  liel])  me?  There  are 
two  against  me  ";  so  Doonongaes  joined'in.  The  old  men  ]dayed  well, 
but  Doonongaes  and  Tsodi(|gwadon  won.  Then  Tsodiijgwadon  said. 
'•  Take  the  wager.  Cut  their  heads  otf."  "  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  [eth.  anx.  32 

Dacwanoenyeiits -^-  nislied  forth.  Xow  the  cliff  bp^an  to  cruinhle.  at 
which  Doonongaes  exchiimed  :  "  Let  us  go  quickly  1  This  cliff  may  fall 
iind  bui-y  us  under  it."  Doonongaes  and  Tsodiqgwadon  ran  out  as 
quickly  as  possible  and  were  barely  outside  when  down  came  the 
cliff.  Doonongaes  said,  "The  man  from  the  first  lodge  ran  out  at 
this  opening."  As  they  stood  there  looking  cai'efully  around  they 
i^aw  a  lodge,  in  the  doorway  of  which  sat  a  man.  whereupon  Tsodiq- 
gwadon said  : ''  That  man's  name  is  Hahnyusdais.-"  He  is  the  nuistei' 
C'f  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  j'ou  come  here 
for?"  "  I  came  to  ask  you  a  question,"  retorted  Doonongaes.  "  Well, 
wait  until  I  smoke,"  Hahnyusdais  replied,  and  taking  out  a  stone 
pipe,  he  began  to  smoke.  Dooncngaes  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 
place  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  in(]uired :  "Why  is  this 
place  full  of  earth  ?  I  went  in  some  time  ago.  but  I  can  not  go  in  now. 
A  man  named  Deagon.stwihes -'*  came  out  of  here  a  little  while  ago  and 
then  went  back.  T  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."  "T^Tlat  shall  we  do  with  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  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.  Tliey  replied:  "We  are  tia<king  the  Laughing 
Man,  who  killed  our  chief.  We  were  sent  to  track  and  to  kill  him. 
We  shall  never  stop  until  we  catch  him.  Here  are  his  tracks." 
"  Who  was  your  chief?  "  said  Doonongaes.  "  Doonongaes,"  they  i-e- 
plied.  Doonongaes,  laughing,  said,  "  Do  you  not  know  that  when 
S'hodieonskon  dies  he  comes  to  life  again  in  a  short  tinieT"  "No," 
rei^lied  the  men,  whose  names  were,  respectively,  Hatkwisdowanen  -" 
and  Hushewathen.^"  "  We  do  not  know  that.  We  ne\er  heard  the 
old  people  say  that,"  they  answei-ed.  "Well,  two  days  after  I  died 
I  came  to  life.  It  is  no  use  to  pursue  the  Laughing  Man  any  longer. 
You  will  not  catch  him,  but  he  will  ne\  er  kill  me  again.    You  would  bet- 


1IK\V[TTJ  '    ^  ')^0 

U'v  <r<>  IioiiK'."  added  DooiioiijTacs.  Tlic  two  men  said.  "Thank  you  for 
(Mir  i'i'('cd(iiii :  we  are  at  lilierty  now  to  tjo  where  we  please."  "  1  sliould 
like  I"  take  a  sinol^e,"  said  Dooiionizaes :  '"  1  ii'^ed  to  ha\e  a  pouch. -'"' 
i)nt  I  <lo  not  know  now  wliere  it  is.""  "  W'eU.""  said  IIatkwis(h)wanen, 
"  wiien  yon  died  two  men  weiv  sent  to  your  hxlfje  to  fjjet  youi'  |)ouch. 
I  tllink  that  the  chiid',  TIai;(indii\\anen,-'-'"  lui^  il  now.'"  "  1  will  1m-  at 
his  ]ilace  tonion-ow.""  ivplied  I  )()()nonjiaes.  '*■  \\'e  are  f*)injj:  to  June  a 
fireat  time  at  Broken  Land.  \\'ill  you  not  be  there  ^  ""  "It  may  he 
that  I  shall,  if  I  do  not  ^'et  killeci.  1  suppose  my  wife  is  enrajz'ed  lie- 
eau.se  I  ha\e  been  away  so  loriij,""  answered  Ilatkwisflowanen. 

Ihitkwisdowanen  and  liis  friend  now  started  for  home,  wiiile 
Doonon^aes  and  T.sodi(|<^wadon  went  on  eastward.  .\t  nightfall  the 
latter  came  to  a  lodge,  within  which  they  heard  some  one  sinping, 
Onen  ildf/irrrioii.ftdirdil'n/on  hcnnjan  ij(Linir)h.-'-''  *"  Why  does  that  old 
wotnan  sing  so?  "  asked  I  )(ii)nongaes.  "Let  us  I'un  through  this  hut," 
he  added.  "Oh,  ])shaw  I  "  answ(>red  Tsodicigwadon :  "what  is  the 
use  of  chasing  people  all  the  time^"  "  I  will  tell  you  why  I  like  to 
do  it,""  answered  Do((nongaes.  ".VU  people  get  angry  wlien  they  see 
me  and  ti-y  to  kill  me,  so  now  I  am  going  to  kill  all  the  peoi)le  I 
can."  Tso<^li(|gwadon  remainefl  outside  while  Doonongaes  went  into 
the  lodge,  crying  out.  "Now  I  have  come  hai-k.""  The  old  woman, 
whose  name  was  Gonyahsgweont ---  and  who  belonged  to  the  Nos- 
gwais--^  people,  raising  hei'  head,  .said,  "It  seems  as  if  some  game 
creature  was  talking  in  my  lodge."  Looking  around  and  seeing  Doon- 
ongaes, she  said:  "  AA'hat  are  you  doing  in  here?  There  is  no  use 
troubling  me,  for  I  have  never  chased  yon.''  She  knew  he  was  Sdio- 
dieonskon,  and  that  he  always  chased  ;uid  killed  ]ieo]ile.  Slie  began  to 
i>eg.  but,  going  behind  her.  he  held  her  l)y  the  shoulders  when  she  tried 
lo  turn  ai'ound.  Then  catching  her  l)y  the  feet,  he  imlled  her  out  of 
the  lodge.  "Do  not  make  sport  of  and  tiduble  me,"'  cried  the  old 
woman:  "I  am  poor,  hut  I  ha\('  never  harmed  anyone."'  "  \\'hy  rlo 
you  sing  in  that  way.  then  ^  ""  asked  Doonongaes;  "I  thought  yon 
was  the  woman  \\\\n  killed  all  kinds  of  game."  "I  wa-^  feclitiii 
happy,  that  is  why  I  sang,"  answiM'ed  the  old  woman.  .\.t  this 
'I"sodi(|gwadon  said.  "  ^'on  would  better  let  that  ohl  woman  alone." 

So  I)<ionongaes  left  the  old  woman  an.l  the  two  went  on.  A\'hen 
they  met  ])eople  they  changed  thenisel\es  to  I'e.semble  those  people. 
They  were  magically  the  most  powerful  ])ersons  living.  Tsodicjgwa- 
don  was  greatly  superior  to  his  friend  in  this  respect.  ]iopsessing  the 
gi'catest  orenda  in  this  world.  All  were  afraid  of  him  because  he 
could  do  anything  he  like<l.  All  at  once  Doonongaes  said  :  "  .My  neck 
feel>  bad.  It  has  been  xire  for  a  long  time."'  "  \\'hen  did  it  become 
sore  ?  ""  asked  Tsodi(|gw  adon.  Then  Doonongaes  told  about  the  two 
old  sisters  Gwidogwido.  an<l  said  that  ever  since  he  had  lifted  and 
cairied   awav  their  lodufe  his   luik   had   troubled   him.     "  A'on   must 


330  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  iNN.  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  flint  knife.  He  tried  to  pull  it  out;  he 
continued  to  try  all  night  lung,  and  just  as  the  sun--*  arose  he  drew  it 
out.  "  There  I  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  journe}',  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  hei-e,"  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." --"  "  Wlio  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.  AVhen  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,  Siiodieon- 
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  Icnife — yes,  he  saw  several  sitting  around, 
all  sharpening  their  chert  knives.  "  What  are  you  sharpening  your 
knives  for?  "  asked  Doonongaes.  "We  are  going  to  kill  you,"  came 
the  reply.  "  Wait  until  I  am  ready.  Give  me  fair  play,"  said 
Doonongaes.  "All  right,"  was  the  rejily,  "but  you  must  hui-ry  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.  "  AVell,  I  am  going 
en,"  said  Tsodicjgwadon;  "all  the  help  I  will  give  j'ou  is  to  tell  you 
what  kind  of  a  weajxin  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.  Make  a  basswood  club."  came  the 
answer.  Doonongaes  made,  therefore,  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  towaul  the  north, 
chased  by  Doonongaes.    The  first  one  he  overtook  he  hit  t)n  the  head 


he™-]  fiction  331 

with  liis  club,  wliereupon  the  Stone  Coat  crumbled  down  to  the 
ground,  dead,  with  his  body  and  coat  .smashed  to  pieces.  Doonon- 
gaes  treated  tiie  next  one  in  a  like  manner  and  so  on  until  lie  had 
overtaken  and  killed  them  all  -men.  women,  and  children.  Then 
he  said:  "This  is  the  kind  of  man  I  am.  Why  did  Tsodiijgwadon 
leave  me^  I  can  chase  him.  t(;o.  when  I  find  him."  At  that  moment, 
hearing  someone  behind  iiim.  he  looked  around  only  to  .'^ee  Tsodiq- 
gwadon,  who  asked,  "  ^^'hat  ai'e  you  talking  about?"  Doonongaes 
I'eplied,  "  ( )h  I  T  was  saying  that  you  are  the  best  fiiend  I  Iimnc  in 
the  woi'ld." 

Once  more  I  he  two  went  on  together,  and  the  next  morning  they 
came  to  a  rock  which  was  so  high  that  they  could  not  .see  the  top  of 
it.  Doonongaes  now  changed  himself  into  a  buck,  and  i-ubbing  his 
horns  on  the  rock  said,  "  I  can  kill  Hinon--"'  if  I  see  him."  At  that 
mnnicnt  Hinon  came  out  of  the  rock,  and  standing  before  him.  asked, 
■■  AVhat  were  you  saying?  "'  '*  Oh  I  I  said  that  the  man  who  lives  in 
here  is  the  best  friend  I  have,"  answered  Doonongaes.  Tsodi(igwa- 
don  stood  on  one  side,  laughing.  Believing  D(M)nongaes.  Hinon 
went  back  into  the  rock. 

The  two  friends  now  cuntimicd  journeying  toward  the  north. 
Tsodi(|gwadnn  .said  to  his  companion.  "  I  want  you  to  stop  fooling 
everybody,  for  you  do  not  know  what  orcnda  other  persons  have; 
you  mav  get  into  tioublc  snme  time."  Toward  night  they  came  to  a 
lodge  in  which  many  old  men  lived.  These  were  .singing  a  war 
song,  OgircHion  denkcnoonk  gani/ohshon  enkhcgrn  hei/ocndjaileh.-^'' 
'\\\  sang  the  same  song.  Assuming  tiie  form  of  this  people,  who  were 
Geiidagahadenyatha,-"'  Doonongaes.  going  into  the  lodge,  began  sing- 
ing a  war  song,  too.  but  with  different  words.  He  sang,  Deaun  ni 
(laegwanoenk  Onen  neho  agyon  heonwe  niswaiiyonp-  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  Hint  knives,  they  ran  after  him.  Tsodiijgwadon  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,"  answei-ed  Doonongaes.  "  You  would  bet- 
ter let  them  alone.  It  is  not  right  to  act  in  this  way  all  the  time," 
replied  Tsodi(]gwadon.  "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  com|)anions  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  Tsodicjgwadon,  knocking 


332  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etii.  ann.32 

him  down.  The  hirge  man  laughed,  saying.  ''That  is  what  I  like." 
Tsodiqgwadon  jumped  up,  whereupon  the  stranger  said:  ''Yon 
must  strike  back."  so  Tsodiqgwadon  struck  Doonongaes.  "Now. 
you  must  say  bad  words  to  each  other  and  .scold,"  said  he.  They 
l)egan  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. 
I  am  always  near  you  as  you  go  along."  Then  the  large  man.  whose 
name  was  Nanisheonon,-''^  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.  AVe  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  m-.' 
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  keej)  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  thatf  said  Tsodiqgwadon.  "Yes.  you 
did,"  retorted  Doonongaes.  At  this  Tsodiqgwadon  laughed.  "  What 
are  you  laughing  at?"  asked  Doonongaes.  "I  am  laughing  because. 
1  fooled  you  so  when  I  said  that  to  you,"  rejoined  Tsodiqgwadon. 
"You  will  not  be  angrj',  then,  if  I  go  to  them?"  said  Doonongaes. 
"  Oh !  you  can  go  if  you  like."  was  the  reply.  "  Very  well,  I  will 
go  now."  declaied  Doonongaes.  ''  May  I  visit  you  until  tomorrow?  " 
asked  Tsodiqgwadon.  ''No;  I  think  you  would  better  not."  was 
the  answer.  "All  right:  I  can  star  here  until  the  time  comes  for 
the  council."  said  Tsodi(jgwadon.  Going  to  his  mother-in-law V 
lodge.  Doonongaes  asked.  "Where  are  your  daughters?"  "  Oh  I 
they  have  gone  back  to  their  first  husbands."  said  the  old  woman. 
"Have  they  forgotten  me?"  asked  Doonongaes.  "'You  know." 
answ-ered  the  old  woman,  "that  you  have  been  gone  a  long  time. 
They  waited  two  years  for  you."  "  AVell.  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  l)ack."  "  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 
snid,  "My  husband  is  here."  "Not  that  one."  replied  her  mother: 
"I  mean  the  great  chief."    "I  know:  but  I  waited  a  lon<r  time  for 


l",^;--]  FicTio.x  .  333 

him.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  go  from  tliis  hiishaiid  now,"  she 
added.  "Oh!"  said  the  okl  woman,  "tliis  man  you  liave  now  is  not 
worth  anything;  lie  lias  not  a  hit  of  \vanii)\im.''  "I  will  go,  then," 
.said  tlie  girl,  "but  do  not  tell  my  husband.""  So  she  tlressed  up  and 
made  a  bundle  of  iicr  things  in  jjreparation  to  go  away.  "Where 
are  you  going r*  askeil  iicr  husband.  "To  my  motlu'r"s  lodge." 
"Very  well,"  saiel  he,  an<i  olf  she  went. 

AVhen  the  two  girls  rcaihcd  thcii-  mothei-'s  lotlge.  after  greeting 
Doonongaes.  they  began  to  talk  to  him.  One  asked.  "  AV'here  have  you 
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  tliere  is  going  to  be  tomorrow  T'  slie  asked.  "  NO;  what  is 
it?"  asked  Doonongaes.  "They  ai'e  g<iing  to  have  a  gieat  rouncil,"'  she 
replied.  "What  kind  of  council?"  he  imiuircd.  "  ( )h  I  to  appoint 
another  chief.  They  will  take  the  chieftaincy  away  from  Tsndicj- 
gwadon  and  put  somebody  else  in  your  place  as  second  chief.""  was 
the  answer.  "  \\"hv  so?"'  deman<lc(l  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,  "  \\  ell.  if  they  do 
put  me  out  I  will  always  be  Siujdieonskon."  The  next  morning  he 
felt  better,  because  his  mind  was  made  up.  As  soon  as  they  were 
through  eating,  all  the  people  went  to  Hroken  Land. 

When  they  had  as.sembled  Doonongaes  arose,  saying.  "  I  tjelieve  all 
are  now  present.""  Tliereu])on  Tsodi(|gwadon  aro.se.  He  told  them 
what  the  council  was  for,  and  saitl  to  the  people,  "  ^'ou  now  have  to 
choo.se  a  head  chief  and  a  second  chief  for  the  whole  world,  and 
every  village  is  to  choose  a  chief  foi-  itself."'  IJiit  Dcanohdjcs  had 
not  yet  come.  Then  one  man.  arising.  >aid.  "I  should  like  to  make 
Deanohd  jcs -'-^  head  chief.""  They  talked  the  (piestion  o\ei';  one-half 
were  for  Deanohdjes  and  the  other  half  against  him.  Oidy  one  man 
!'emained  silent.  Ikcmarking.  "  Well.  I  can  >ay  nothing  until  to- 
morrow,"" 'l"soili(]gwadon  then  adjourned  the  meeting.  The  ne.xt 
morning  Deanohdjes  arrived.  \\'hen  the  council  assembled  Tsotliq- 
gwadon  anise  and  said:  ".Ml  ai'c  now  |ircsci:t.  Now.  mv  father,  arc 
you  willing  to  be  the  head  chief  of  the  whole  woi-hl  ?""  Deanohdjes 
hiuig  his  head,  while  the  peojjle  all  were  silent.  Then,  raisine;  his 
head,  he  said,  "  I  can  say  nothing  for  10  days."  .So  the  council 
adjourneil  atid  nu't  again  in  ID  days.  ThercMpon  Deanohdjes  said: 
"I  will  tell  you  my  mind.  Put  this  duty  on  Doonongaes;  make  him 
head  chief  of  all  the  woilo.""  Doonongaes  was  delighted,  but 
'J'sodi(|gwadon  said.  "  lie  is  too  mean  a  num  for  that :  he  is  .SMiodieon 
skon."'  "If  he  is  marie  heail  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  nuuli  power." 


334  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ETH.  anx.  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  goin";  to  appoint  annther  chief,  and  T 
supposed  they  had  found  some  one  who  is  magically  more  powerful 
than  I  am."  Then  Tsodiqgwadon,  addres.sing  the  meeting,  said, 
"  Take  the  person  who  yon  think  has  the  greatest  orenda.''  Some 
one  then  said:  "Let  us  adjoui'n  for  lU  days,  for  only  our  own  people 
are  present  now,  while  others  who  are  coming  should  be  here.  Let 
Haiwanenqgwi  -' "'  be  sent  to  all  the  people  of  every  kind  in  the  world 
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  world  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,  excejiting 
one;  I  have  not  seen  these,"  he  answered.  "Who  are  they?"  asked 
Tsodiqgwadon.  "  The  Dagwanoenyents,"  Haiwanenqgwi  said.  "  Oh  I 
did  you  not  go  to  Gaha  Gastende,-^"  w^here  the  high  rocks  are  in  the 
ea-st?"  in<|uii'ed  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. 

Haiwanencigwi  started  again.  On  reaching  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain he  met  some  of  the  Dagwanoenyents,  who  roam  all  over  the  region 
of  Wind  Cliff,  and  to  tliem  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  I  should  deliver  the  message 
they  might  not  believe  me."  So  saj'ing,  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 
jieople  that  a  council  will  be  held  at  Broken  Land  10  days  hence  and 
tJiat  you  must  all  be  present."  In  response  all  said,  "We  will  be 
there  at  the  appointed  time."  Then  tlie  meeting  adjourned  ami  all 
went  home.  When  Haiwanenqgwi  retuined  to  his  home  Tsodiq- 
gwadon asked  him,  "Have  you  now  notihed  all  kinds  of  people?" 
He  replied,  "Yes;  all  those  whom  I  have  ever  seen."  Thereupon  he 
was  asked,  "Have  a'ou  notified  the  Stone  Coats?"  To  which  he 
answered,  "No;  where  do  they  live?"  Tsodiqgwadon  told  liim, 
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 


^^--?.]      ^  FICTION  335 

(iiiisonhe.-^"  Tlioiifo  go  sontlnvard  again  and  you  will  conio  to  Nit- 
gawcnosatioha,-*'  where  tlie  Djinonhsanon -*-  people  live.  Just  be- 
yond Nitgawenosaticlia  you  will  find  Tgawenogwen,-*''  where  the 
Onowchda -**  peojilo  dwell.  lie  sure  to  notify  all  the  people  on  tiiese 
islands.  Then  go  toward  the  east  and  you  will  reach  a  large  island, 
on  which  you  will  find  the  Djisdaah  i)eople:  tliis  island  is  called 
Djisdaah  Tgawonot."*'^  Thence  go  northward  and  then  return  here 
as  soon  as  possible.  Do  not  delay  on  the  way."  These  weie  the 
instructions  of  Tsodi(|g\vadon.  IlaiwaiiciKjgwi,  answering.  "Very 
well."  started  westward. 

When  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  earth  at  the  west  he  reuiai'l<c<l 
to  himself.  ''What  shall  I  do  to  reach  (Jahsgwaa  Tgawenot  ^  " -^"^ 
Then  he  quickly  assumed  the  form  of  a  snake,  and,  going  into  tlie 
water,  swam  about  half  way  to  the  island,  when  loud  thunder  and  vivid 
lightnings  made  him  halt,  whereupon  he  said.  "'  T  thiidv  that  llinon 
wants  to  kill  me,  so  I  will  change  myself  into  a  Hahnowa."  .Vs  soon 
as  he  had  become  a  Ilahnowa,  Hinon  stopped  his  threatenings,  and 
the  sky  cleared  off.  and  everything  became  as  bright  as  ever,  lie 
reached  the  (lahsgwaa  Tgawenot.  or  Stone  Tslaml.  when  he  again 
assumed  the  form  of  a  man.  (Joing  on,  he  met  a  person  to  whom  he 
said.  ■'  I  have  come  to  notify  your  people  that  we  are  going  to  have 
a  giTat  council  at  Ri'oken  T^and  10  days  from  now."  "  Well,  where 
is  your  wampum?"  he  was  asked.  "  T  have  none."  said  Ilaiwan- 
eiKjgwi,  who  asked  in  turn,  "  AVhere  is  your  cliief  ?"  "  Go  westward," 
he  was  told,  '"and  you  will  come  to  a  large  opening  in  the  rocks— 
thei'e  you  will  (iiid  our  chief."  He  came  to  this  opening,  and  (in 
looking  in.  saw  a  very  t)ld  man  sitting  there.  .\s  soon  as  lie  stopped 
at  the  edge  of  the  oin-ning.  the  old  man,  looking  uji.  said.  "What 
do  you  Want  licre^  "  IIaiwanen(]gwi  replied.  '"  T  lia\e  come  to  notify 
you  that  our  [)eople  will  hold  a  gi-eat  council  at  Bi-okeii  F^and.  and 
that  our  head  chief  seiuls  for  you  to  come  thei-e  in  10  days  from 
now."  "Very  well.  I  will  come  with  all  my  pco])le,''  answered  the 
old  man. 

.Assuming  the  form  of  a  Ilahnowa.  IIaiwancni|gw  i  now  went  over 
the  water  until  he  came  to  the  ne.xt  island,  which  was  called  Othe- 
gwenlida  Tgawenot.  Here  he  assumed  the  form  of  a  num.  and 
going  to  the  chief,  whose  name  was  Hoonkgowanen.-*'  he  said,  "  I 
ha\e  come  to  iinitc  you  to  a  great  council,  which  is  to  be  held  at 
IJroken  T.,and  in  10  days."  The  chief  replied.  "Very  well:  we  will 
be  there  on  time." 

Then  Haiwanenqgwi.  again  assuming  the  foim  of  a  Ilahnowa. 
went  over  the  water  to  Oosah  Tgawenot."''"  .Vt  this  ]ilace  he  found 
Shayades,-'"'  the  chief  of  the  people  who  dwelt  there.  To  him  Ilai  wan- 
enqgwi  gave  the  invitation  to  be  at  the  great  council  at  Broken  I^and 
in  10  days,  and  then  he  went  on  to  Xitgawenosatieha.  Soon  he  met 
some  men  who  took  him  to  their  chief,  whose  name  was  Deanohs- 


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

g\vis.^^°  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,-^-  lie  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  Hononliengwen.-^''  On  re- 
ceiving the  invitation,  tiie  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  tlie  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  T  can  not  go  with  you."  So  Haiwanenqgwi 
went  along  farther  and  soon  came  to  a  lodge  in  wliich  sat  an  old  num. 
large  and  soleum  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  ln'ing  an  important  message  to  you  and  your 
people,"  he  answered.  "  Oh  I  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  liim  the  invitation  to  the  great  council.  The  cliief, 
whose  name  was  Hodehoiidasiowanen,-^^  said,  "  We  will  be  tliore  at 
tlie  appointed  time." 

Haiwanenqgwi  then  ran  homeward  all  night,  reaching  Broken 
Land  in  the  morning.  Once  there  he  declai'ed.  "I  ha\e  now  visited 
all  the  peoples  on  the  earth."  But  Tsodiqgwadon  asked,  "  Have  you 
visited  Gaasyendiet'ha  -"°  j'et  ?  "  "  No,  I  do  not  know  where  he  lives," 
he  replied.  "  You  nuist.  Iiowever.  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  Tsodi(]g\Vadon 
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. 


<V,^'i^']  FICTION  337 

wliich  is  red-hot;  iiiulor  tliis  stone  is  a  cavern  in  whicli  Gansyonilictiia 
lives.  This  rock  is  on  the  e(l<re  of  tlie  Blue  Sky.  wliere  it  meets  the 
waters,  just  where  the  sun  sets.  Gaasyendiefiia  carries  this  stone 
with  him  wlien  he  tra\els  in  winter  so  that  lie  can  break  the  ice  as 
he  fjoes;  it  is  caUed  (iaonhiahge  Tgastendeh.-'"'  Thei'c  is  no  eai'th. 
there;  only  stone.  I  want  you  to  fxo  directly  to  the  Hock  in  the  lilue 
Sky."  Then  stringing  the  bow.  iu>  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  coining 
viown  it  struck  the  hot  rock.  The  man  who  lived  under  the  rock 
said.  ■■  Something  has  come  down  on  my  ball."  and  pushing  oil'  the 
hot  rock,  he  came  forth.  Thereupon  Ilaiwanenqgw  i,  cdiuiiig  out  of 
the  arrowhead,  said  to  (iaa.syendiet'ha,  '' Tsodi(]gwadon  sent  me  to 
ask  you  to  be  present  at  a  council  to  be  held  in  nine  daj's  from  now 
at  Broken  Lanci."  '"  A\'hat  is  the  council  for?  "'  asked  the  host.  ''To 
ajipoint  a  new  chief  for  all  the  people  under  the  Blue  Sky,"  came 
the  reply.  ''  Very  well,"  said  he,  "I  will  go."  (laasycndietdia  asked. 
"How  did.  you  come,  for  I  have  never  known  any  man  to  be  able  to 
come  up  to  the  Rock  in  the  IMue  Sky  before  ?  "  ''  Oh  I  I  came  in  the 
arrow,"  answered  his  visitor.  '"  Well.  then.  1  must  send  you  back 
in  the  same  maimer,"  replied  (iaasyendiefha.  "All  right;  I  will 
have  to  return  that  way."  said  1  laiwanen(|gwi.  In  picking  u])  the 
:u-row  Gaasyendiefiia  found  that  its  head  was  split,  so  seizing  Ilai- 
waneiKigwi  and  shaking  him  to  i-educe  his  size,  he  was  finally  alile 
to  leinseit  him  in  the  airowhead.  wherein  he  cai'cfully  secured  him. 
Having  done  this,  he  cast  the  ariMW  eastward  and  it  flew  away.  In 
a  short  time  it  came  down  at  the  feet  of  Tsodi(|gw  adon,  who  had  not 
moved  from  that  place  since  he  had  shot  the  arrow  westward.  When 
llaiwaneni|gwi  came  forth  he  was  asked,  "Have  you  notified  all  the 
people  now?  "  He  replied.  "Yes:  I  have,  so  far  as  T  know,  notified 
all  the  peoples  under  the  Blue  Sky."  But  Tsodi(]gwadon  declared: 
"No;  you  have  not;  there  are  a  large  number  yet  who  have  not  been 
notified  of  the  great  council.  You  must  now  go  eastward  to  the  |ilace 
where  Tkwendahen  Xiohsiowesioliden  -"-  lives.  This  jjlace  is  situated 
on  an  island  called  Gaahgwa  Tgawenot.-"^  which  is  located  just  where 
the  sun  rises.  The  chief  of  this  ])lace  is  called  Djahgwiyu.-'''  AVhen 
you  ha\e  performed  your  errand  here  you  must  go  northward  until 
you  find  another  island,  which  is  called  01inon(]gon(t)  -''■•  Tirawenot. 
The  name  of  the  chief  of  the  ]H'o|ile  who  dw(>ll  here  is  called  Djihtk- 
wahen  Niothwaha.syohden.-''"  \\'licn  you  have  finished  your  err.-uid 
here  you  must  go  northeastward. and  you  will  reach  an  islaiul  which  is 
called  Gainhdoya -"■  Tgawenot;  and  the  name  of  the  chief  wdio  lives 
on  this  islaiul  is  Djihtkwahen  -'"''  Haos.  After  you  have  notified  him, 
take  a  westerW  course,  visiting  an  island  which  is  called  Hahnowa  -•■° 
94015°— 18 22 


338  SENECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  axx.  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." 

Haiwanencigwi  then  set  out  for  Sun  Island.  There  he  saw  after 
a  while  one  of  the  Djahgwiyu  -'^  people  coming  toward  him,  where- 
upon he  thought:  "  A^'hat  can  this  mean  ^  Is  the  world  going  to 
h\irn  up?"  But  soon  he  saw  that  it  was  Tkwendahen  ^'°  Xiohsiowe- 
sidhden  himself,  who  said,  "What  have  you  come  for^"  Haiwa- 
nenqgwi  replied.  "  Oh  I  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  Niohsiowesiohdpn. 

Then  Haiwanenqgwi  went  to  Ohnonqgon(t)  Tgawenot,  and  after 
that  he  reached  (Jainhdoya  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  they  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,  whei'e  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  coimcil  at  Broken  Land 
eight  days  from  now.  and  that  Tsodicjgwadon  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 
ai'rived  there.  Tsodi(igwadon  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  Sky.  called  Gaonyahge  '-'*' 
Diyoendjadeh.  and  you  must  go  in  a  southerly  direction.  This 
land  is  very  high,  and  you  can  not  get  there  until  oienda  for  that 
purpose  is  given  you.  The  S'hadahgeah  ^"  people  dwell  in  that  land, 
the  name  of  whose  chief  is  ()(lahno(]gwiyah  "*"  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  Shedwacjsot.-'*-    After  you  have 


^^^;^.f\  FICTION  339 

triven  your  nicssapp  to  tlicsc  .>-c\t'ii  iiicn.  you  iiuist  <ro  straiirlit  up 
until  you  reach  the  iciitral  part  of  the  Blue  Sky.  anil  (iircrtiy  above 
tlie  Blue  Sky  you  w  ill  find  a  man  w  Iiom'  naiuc  is  Ilaiiasdensyowanen.^"^ 
And  when  you  have  told  him  your  message  come  straifiht  down  to 
the  irround.  Directly  umlei-  the  door  in  tlie  center  of  the  Blue  Sky 
you  will  (ind  an  openinji  in  the  earth.  In  this  opening  you  will 
lind  an  ( )donseh -''*  man.  whose  name  is  Shajroewatha  : -"''  notify  him 
also.  A  short  distance  from  this  opening  you  w  ill  see  a  high  rock,  on 
which  yuu  will  find  the  tallest  of  men.  whose  name  is  S'hagodi 
yoweijgowa.-'"'  ^  on  must  sunnuon  him,  too.  riii'iice  go  farther  along 
the  rocks,  and  you  will  reach  the  dwelling  ])lace  of  the  chief  (ianiag- 
waihegowa.-*'  ^Ou  must  notify  him  also,  and  Ihen  you  must  return 
here."  Tsodi(|gwadon  gave  Ilaiwanencigwi  a  small  ])iece  of  a  sub- 
stance which  resembled  flesh,  and  which  pos.sessed  great  orenda. 
In  giving  it  to  him.  Tsodi(]gwadon  said,  '' \\'hen  you  desire  to  u.se 
this,  you  must  chew  it."  adding  fuither  directions  as  to  the  manner 
of  its  use. 

Placing  this  mystei'ious  substance  in  his  mouth,  IIaiwanen(]gwi  at 
once  mounted  highei'  and  higher.  In  a  very  shoi't  time  he  InuJ 
reached  the  Land  in  the  Blue  Sky.  When  he  arrived  there  he  looked 
around,  and  while  doing  this  S'hadahgeah  saw  him,  and  an  0()tcih 
gah  ^"^  Ongwe  asked  him  whence  he  came.  "  Oh  !  I  came  from  below," 
was  the  answer  of  Haiwanen(igwi.  "  How  did  you  get  u])  liei-eC  "  was 
asked  him.  "1  walked  on  the  air."  he  answered:  "and  1  ha\e  come 
to  notify  you  that  there  will  be  a  great  council  at  Bi-oken  Land  to 
be  held  seven  days  from  now.    You  must  all  come." 

Thence  IIaiwanen(|gwi  went  westward,  passing  thi'ough  the  air. 
and  soon  came  to  a  lodge  situated  on  a  cloud.  Entei'ing  the  lodge, 
he  saw  therein  seven  men  of  the  Ilinon  peo]ile.  who  were  all  smok- 
ing, so  the  lodge  was  filled  with  smoke.  He  ga\t'  his  message  to  tin- 
elder  man,  who.se  title  was  Shedwacisot.  and  who  assui'ed  him  that 
they  would  all  go  to  the  council. 

From  that  place  Haiwanen<|gwi  went  straight  to  the  middle  of  the 
Blue  Sky.  where  there  was  a  door.  I'a.ssing  thi'ougli  this,  he  saw  an 
old  man  silting  there,  whose  name  was  Sadjawiski : -'*'•'  he  also  was 
smoking.  HaiwaneiKjgwi  said  to  him.  "1  came  to  notify  you  of  a 
great  council  to  be  held  at  Broken  Land  sexcn  days  from  now." 
"  \'erv  well:  I  will  go."  said  the  old  man.  "I  lunc  been  waiting  a 
long  time  for  you.  because  I  knew  thai  you  were  coming  and  knew 
what  your  message  would  be.  My  hrothei',  Shagoewatha.-""  knows 
thai  \(iu  are  coming  to  see  him.  too.  AVait  a  few  monienl~:  a  man^"' 
will  pass  here  soon:  tell  him  too  of  the  council."  Soon  a  man  came 
on  the  run  from  the  east:  when  he  arii\cd  where  the  old  man  was  he 
stopped.  This  man  was  Odjisdanohgwah.-''^  but  the  peojde  whence 
Hai\vanen(|gwi  came  call  hitn  (iaa(]gwaah.-'"''  for  he  gives  light  to  the 


340  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [bth.  anx.  32 

world.  In  reply  to  the  in\itatiun  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  opening  directly  under  the  dooi- 
in  the  Blue  Sky,  far  down  into  which  he  went.  Tltere  he  saw  an  old 
man  called  Sh-agoewatha,  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  Hai\vanen<]gwi  went  up  and  notified  Siiagodiyoweqgowa,  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  groat  comicil  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  you  now  notified  everybody?  "  He  replied, 
"  Yes;  so  far  as  I  know."  "  No;  j'ou  have  not.  You  must  go  to  an- 
other counti-y,  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);  "I  will  rest  tonight  an<l 
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  i)eople.  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; 
3'ou  have  not  yet  finished  your  work,"  declared  his  questionei'. 
"  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  Haiwanenqgvii  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  number  of 
the  Otho -"**  people.  Haiwanen<|gwi  delivered  his  message  to  all.  In 
i-eply  to  the  invitation  they  said,  "It  is  well;  we  will  go  to  Broken 
Land." 

Haiwanenqgwi  thence  returned  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." 


^l^.fl  LEGENDS  341 

'I'lio  iiH'?;sengcr  started.  follo\viii<i  tlie  couise  iii(lic;(tei.l.  At  last 
he  found  a  beautiful  counti'W  which  was  very  warm  and  full  of 
Howei's.  and  he  saw  there  a  lai'<re  riiiinher  of  j^eople  wiio  looked  like 
Ongwe  Ilonwe.""'  He  gave  iheni  his  message.  "' II  is  well."  they 
said;  "'we  will  attend  the  councd."" 

^A'hen  Tlaiwanen(|gwi  reached  home  he  declare  I  lh;it  he  was  not 
alile  to  go  anywhere  else.  Thereupon  Ts()di(]gwadon.  langhing.  said 
to  him,  *■  Now.  my  fi'iend,  your  woi'k  is  done." 

W'lien  the  10  days  wei-e  expired  all  the  peo|ile  iVoni  all  pails  oi' 
the  World  came  in  great  numbers — from  the  four  (piartei's  and  from 
above  and  from  below — from  the  east  and  west,  north  and  south. 
Ihey  gathered  about  their  several  stations  around  the  great  council 
fii'e.  At  iu)on.  when  the  sun  was  high  in  the  blue  sky,  'l"sodi(|gwadon 
arose  and  asked.  "Aie  you.  the  jiooples  of  all  the  world,  now  present?"' 
They  answereil  him  in  chorus.  "We  ai'e  picsent."  Thereu])on  Tso- 
diijgwadon  said:  "  I  will  ti'U  you  what  this  coinicil  i-.  cmIKmI  for.  A 
chief  of  all  the  peoples  dwelling  above  and  below  is  to  b(>  chosen, 
and  it  is  for  you  to  .select  one."  Now  the  tribes  of  people  talked 
among  themselves  and  one  with  aiintliei':  Imt  'I'sodiijgw  adon  sat 
>till.  listening  to  wluit  was  said.  They  talked  until  night  and  then 
they  talked  all  night.  They  remained  a  whole  year,  talking  day 
and  night.  \t  the  fnd  oi  the  year  they  chose  ( iaa.syendiefha '"'-  as 
chief  of  all  the  peojile  of  the  world  abo\e  and  below.  All  agreed 
to  this  choice,  and  (iaasyendiet'ha  himself  was  willing.  AA'hen  (his 
was  done  thev  had  to  select  a  second  chief.  .\uollier  year  was 
passed  in  talking.  Tsodi(|gwadon  sat  in  the  midst  of  the  \ast 
throng,  listening  all  the  time.  At  last  Ilinon  was  chosen  as  the 
.second  chief.  Then  Tsodi()gwadon  said.  "  Who  shall  be  chief  of 
each  locality^"  Then  each  ti'ibe  sat  together,  talking  among  them- 
selves. 'I'he  lir>t  to  complete  their  deliberations  w  uv  the  .^tone 
Coats.^"-'  who  chose  Ongwe  Hanyos.'"'  one  of  (heir  own  |ieoplc.  The 
Ongwchonwe  were  the  ne.xt :  they  chose  one  (d'  their  piincii)al  men. 
and  the  othei'  peoples  chose  the  same  chiefs  as  they  had  before. 
Tsodi<|gwadon  was  chosen  chiel'  of  the  Snake  I'eople  only.  The 
council  then  cIosimI  and  all  went  to  their  homes. 

LKCKXD.S 

r,9.   (ii:NoNs(;w.\^<" 

Once  (here  was  a  \ilhige  in  which  it  was  the  custom  of  tho  \n'op\e 
to  fight  a  great  deal,  for  they  were  xcry  warlike.  .\  sti-ange  boy 
came  to  this  village:  he  was  small  and  perhaps  I  years  old.  Xo  one 
knew  whence  he  came.  He  cotdd  do  nothing  for  himself,  but  he 
wandered  around  the  village,  staying  here  and  theic  in  the  several 
lodges.  Fir.st  one  family  then  another  would  keep  him  for  a  little 
while.     The  people  diil  not  care  nunh  foj-  him.  noi-  |)ay  much  atten- 


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

tion  to  him.  P^inally  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.  When 
night  came,  fires  were  built;  there  were  two  men  at  .-ach  fire,  but  the 
boy  built  a  fire  for  himself.  Several  days  passed  in  this  way.  One 
night,  however,  when  ail  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  the  next  morning  to  the  headman,  who  scolded, 
saying:  "I  did  not  want  this  fellow;  lie  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,  wliich  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  tliat  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."  Tiie  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.  AVe  shall 
turn  oil'  liere  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  v.ould  not  do  so. 

Breaking  a  small  tree  that  stood  near,  the  young  man  hung  his 
bundle  in  the  crutch ;  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  tlie  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 


UKsvlvi]  LEGENDS  343 

swiftly,  with  the  hoar  close  l)eliiii(l  him.  until  he  came  to  a  stream 
which  looked  very  deep.  'I'hey  two  could  just  jumj)  over  it.  So  the 
youngster  sprang  across,  and  the  iicar  leaped  after  him.  Then  the 
youngster  sprang  hack'  to  the  other  side  and  the  Itear  did  the  same. 
Thus  tlicy  jumped  across  many  times.  Now  as  the  young  man  ran 
he  felt  that  his  strength  was  gi'owing  greatei'.  while  he  saw  that  that 
of  the  lieai'  was  fai'ing.  Seeing  the  hear  failing  fast,  the  youth, 
making  a  great  loop.  s])rang  ome  moic  across  the  stream,  with  the 
hear  after  him.  Then  he  made  a  liMip  on  the  other  side,  and  on  going 
across  the  ri\er.  he  saw  the  l)ear  still  weakening.  Pursuing  the  same 
course  once  again,  he  passed  the  hear  ahout  the  middle  of  the  stream^ 
he  going  one  way.  and  the  liear  the  (ither.  i'he  hear  did  not  follow 
by  sight  hut  hy  scent  alone.  Lastly,  the  bear  did  not  cross  the 
stream,  but  followed  all  the  boy's  tracks.  Now.  the  lieast  had  failed 
so  uuich  th.at  the  yuuth  was  just  behind  it  as  it  kejit  trackinij  him. 
As  the  bear  almost  failed  in  trying  to  .|um|)  acr(!ss  tiie  ri\er.  it 
.scrambled  to  get  a  footing.  Then  the  l)oy  shot  from  the  bank  be- 
liind.  the  arrow  entering  the  middle  of  one  of  the  animars  forefeet.^"' 
-Vt  this  ihe  great  bear  scrambled  to  the  bank;  then  I'eeling  fi'om  tree 
to  ti'ce,  it  staggered  and  fell.  Rising  again,  the  beast  struggled  for 
i'  time,  but  at  \,i>{  it  rolled  (i\erdead. 

'I'he  young  man  left  the  bear's  carcass  after  he  had  taken  thi-ee 
hairs  from  its  "whiskers"  and  one  tooth  out  of  its  mouth.  Then 
going  back  to  the  s|iol  whei'c  he  had  left  his  bundle  and  irettini:'  it. 
he  followed  the  trail  of  the  twenty  men.  IJunning  fast,  he  o\<'itook 
them,  whert'iipon  he  said."l  lia\e  killed  ( Janiagwailiegowa.  of  which 
you  were  so  much  afraid."  I  hey  were  naturally  greatly  astoni.shed. 
for  no  man  had  ever  been  able  to  kill  this  cieature,  so  they  said:  "  If 
he  has  done  this,  he  must  have  great  orenda.  Let  us  go  back  and 
sec."  So  they  turned  back,  and  after  tra\eling  until  sunset  they 
came  to  the  place  where  the  body  of  (ianiagwaihegowa  lay.  Thev 
saw  that  it  was  of  enormous  si/e,  and  said:  "We  will  burn  up  the 
body:  we  will  kee|)  up  the  tire  all  night  until  it  is  burned,  'ilicn 
each  man  shall  take  a  little  of  the  ashes  and  a  ft'W  of  the  bones,  just 
enough  for  medicine  to  gi\e  him  its  magical  power."  .\fter  the  lire 
had  gone  out.  the  men  wi'iit  to  sleep:  in  the  latter  jiait  (d'  the  lULdit 
they  stirre<l  the  ashes  with  sticks  until  each  found  a  j)iece  of  bone. 
The  chief  said:  "  ^'oii  must  be  very  careful  about  taking  the  rem- 
nants of  this  bear.  Let  each  one  before  taking  up  his  bone  sav  what 
gift  he  wants,  what  power-  he  desir-es."  Most  of  the  men  desired  to 
be  good  hunters  anil  bi'ave  wai-r'ioi's  and  some  to  be  fast  I'lumers. 
One  man  said,  however,  "  I  want  to  be  admired  by  all  women." 

The  things  the  young  man  had  chosen  were  good  for-  every  ])iir-- 
pose,  but  he  ditl  not  let  the  others  know  that  he  had  taken  anything. 
The  headman  said.  "  \\'e  will  go  on  in  the  same  direction;  that  is, 
towai'd   the   nor-th.''     The    men    luul    changed   their   opinion    of   the 


344  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  an.v.32 

young  man:  they  now  looked  on  him  with  respect  as  a  person  <:f 
great  magical  powers.     The  party  traveled  many  days. 

One  night  they  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  mucji 
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  trutli.  When  you 
see  the  enemy  let  every  man  hang  up  his  bundle ;  let  no  one  keep  his 
bundle.  Then  begin  to  fight,  and  keep  on  until  you  conquer."  In 
the  morning  the  young  man  did  not  tell  his  dream.  He  thougiit 
that  it  was  useless  to  do  so.  They  started  on  after  eating  their 
morning  meal.  AVhen- 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  prol)ably  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." 
.Vfter  this  was  done,  the  fight  began.  The  young  man,  rememliei'ing 
his  di'eam,  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  Ills  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  youth  felt  sure  of  success  when 
he  became  aware  of  this  fact.  (The  magic  power,  or  orenda,  was 
boi-n  with  the  l)oy.  as  it  was  with  all  the  Genonsgwas — a  tiny  hand 
to  be  put  in  the  ]:)alm  of  his  own  hand.)  Just  at  that  moment  the 
large  man  of  tlie  enemy,  discovering  the  young  man.  said:  "You 
will  set  what  vou  deserve  now,  vou  Stone  Coat.  I  will  kill  xou, 
and  thus  punish  you  (for  treachery)."  They  watched  each  othei'. 
paying  no  attention  to  the  rest  of  the  people,  for  each  was  eager 
to  kill  the  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,  hui-letl  it 
away  and  threw  him  down.  When  the  enemy  saw  their  chief  man 
o\erpowered,  they  began  to  run.  The  youth  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 


^ikwi'tt]  legends    '  345 

the  enemy,  they  hui-no«l  Hieiu.  Tlio  victors  sernrerl  a  preat  string 
of  scal])s  (the  big  iiiaii  was  not  a  ( !('non.«ir\va  :  lie  was  nterely  a  vei'V 
large  ant!  strong  man  with  inagiral  powers). 

Tlie  warriors  now  had  great  respect  for  thp  yonng  man.  ainl 
when  they  came  home  and  told  everytliing.  the  respect  of  the  ]H'(>])le 
increased  so  that  he  was  made  a  chief.  The  ]ieople  thought  of  him 
as  a  (ienonsgwa,  though  lie  did  not  hiok  like  one:  they  i-ememhereci 
only  the  hig  man's  words. 

Now.  another  e.xpedition  was  spoken  of  iuid  many  volunteered. 
l)ut  oidy  M)  were  taken,  for  tlnit  was  as  large  a  party  as  was  required. 
All  were  ready.  The  women  inid  provisions  prepared  for  tliem. 
Starting  out.  they  went  towai-d  the  north,  as  before. 

On  the  third  night  the  young  man.  now  a  chief,  dreamed  that 
some  one  came  to  him.  saying:  "  Tomoriow  niglit  when  you  cam]) 
the  enemy  will  be  cam|)ed  near  by.  and  you  will  discover  each  other. 
(It  was  not  tile  custom  of  Indians  in  those  days  to  attack  in  the 
night,  but  always  just  at  daybreak.)  Now  be  you  ready,  all  of 
you.  as  soon  as  daylight  is  dawning  and  attacic  the  enemy.  Be  sure 
that  i/ou  attack  and  not  t/iri/."  The  ne.xt  morning  Stone  Coat,  the 
chief,  told  his  dream  (he  knew  the  warriors  believed  hin.  then) 
word  for  word.  That  night  when  they  camped,  they  discovered 
the  enemy  not  fiir  away,  also  arranging  a  camp.  During  the  night 
few  of  the  warriors  sle])t.  for  they  felt  anxious,  and  some  wer(>  afraid 
of  an  attack,  though  it  was  not  the  rule  to  attack  in  the  niglit. 

Toward  day  the  chief  told  all  to  get  ready.  When  liglit  was 
dawning  they  started.  0:i  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 
almo.st  around  I  will  raise  a  whoop:  then  let  all  give  the  war-  ci-y 
and  attack."  The  chief  discovered  tliat  the  enemy  had  a  warrior 
among  them,  who  was  a  larger  man  than  the  others,  and  saw  that 
he  had  a  shield  to  warrl  off  arrows.  Noticing  that  it  was  about  the 
same  size  as  his  own.  he  said  to  the  men.  "  \'u:\  must  fight  des- 
perately, for  I  do  not  know  iiow  we  shall  come  out."'  The  headman 
of  the  enemy  shouted  to  him  :  "  You  are  amoiio-  these  men:  you  are  a 
Stone  Coat!  I  am  determined  to  kill  you."  (The  big  man  had 
no  name.  TKe  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  ])eculiar  clubs.  Then  they  grapi^led.  and  the  chief  of  the 
30.  .seizing  his  antagonist.  ])ulle(l  out  his  arm,^°"  w  liicii  he  threw  aw  .aN  ; 
but  immediately  it  fiew  back.  The  man  in  turned  pidled  olf  the 
chief's  arm.  hurling  it  away,  but  it  flew  back  to  its  place  and  it  was 
as  it  was  before.  A\'hile  they  fought,  the  shouting  of  the  enemy  die(f 
away;  once  in  a  while  there  was  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 

off  the  man's  head  and  tore  off  the  flesh;  then  he  kejit  kiekinir  away 
the  pieces  as  tliey  came  back.  It  so  happened  that  if  the  fratrnients 
of  flesh  coukl  be  kept  away  until  cool,  tlieir  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  tight 
was  over,  and  the  few  of  the  enemy  remaining  had  run  away,  only 
15  of  the  chiefs  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  reacheil  the  prime  of  life  he  said:  "I  am 
getting  well  advanced  in  years  and  delight  in  warfare.  I  want  to 
have  one  more  ex]:)edition.  then  I  shall  be  satisfied."  People  vol- 
unteered to  go  and  40  wei'e  made  ready,  for  that  number  constituteil 
as  lai'ge  a  party  as  was  wanted.  These  started,  going  toward  the 
south.  (The  people  they  fought  with  came  from  the  south.)  The 
young  num  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  W  among 
the  enemy  who  is  very  powerful,  and  I  am  unable  to  tell  you  whether 
j'ou  will  conquer  him  or  not.  Tomorrow  at  noon  you  will  meet  the 
enemy,  and  just  1  efkire  noon  an  owl  will  come  on  your  trail,  saying. 
*  Be  ready;  your  enemy  is  at  hand.'  Then  you  can  get  ready  to 
fisht."  Having  told  his  dream  in  the  mominir.  thev  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  exi)edition  to  fight,  as  you  have.  Then  each  of  you 
will  be  satisfied."  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  wluHip  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: 
•■  We  have  come  to  destroy  you.  You  have  destroyed  all  our  other 
exjieditions;  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  struggknl  to  keep  him  down,  but  the  chief,  arising,  threw  his 
enemy,  who  barely  touched  the  ground  before  he  was  up  :igain.  The 
next  time  the  chief  was  thrown  his  men  iiegan  to  run,  but  turning  to 
look,  they  stood  watching  the  two  men  fight.  They  saw  theii-  chief's 
arm  pulled  off,  but  it  flew  back  into  ]:)lace;  then  his  head  was  tlirown 
off,  wheieupon  they  saw  he  was  weakening:  so  some  lan  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 


CCKTIN 
HEWITT 


]  LEGENDS  347 


party  li:i<l  run  away.  The  h\c  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  sayinfi.  "  A\"e  will  hold  a  council 
and  give  thaidis  for  (•(MKiiieriiig  thi.s  man.  who  has  destroyed  so 
many  of  our  people."  So  sayinij,  they  befjan  to  get  ready  to  do  this; 
they  made  a  circle  and  the  pieces  of  the  chief's  body  were  placed  in 
the  center.  They  wei-e  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  conijuei-ed.  We  shall  have  |)eace  now."  Then  he  struck 
the  pieces  of  the  chief's  body  with  his  club,  saying.  '"Thus  1  will 
punish  you."  At  that  moment  the  pieces  flew  together,  becoming 
the  chief  again,  who.  springing  up.  killed  five  j^ersons,  and  then, 
lying  down,  fell  apai't.  Each  one  of  the  enemy  saiil:  "I  think  this 
man  did  wrong  in  wishing  to  ]iunish  a  warrior  after  he  was  dead;-'"" 
this  is  why  we  have  lost  five  of  our  men.  We  would  better  kill  this 
man  before  he  brings  us  moiv  bad  luck:  tliereu))on  they  cut  off  his 
head.  Then  they  sang  the  wai-  song  again,  but  lu)  one  raisi-d  a  club  or 
other  weapon  against  any  dead  man  while  they  were  gathering  up 
the  corp.ses.  Of  the  chief's  men  10  of  the  10  got  home.  They  said: 
"The  friend  whom  we  depeiuled  on  is  killed,  and  we  would  better 
remain  at  home  hereafter  and  oidy  defend  ourselves.  If  our  enemies 
desire  to  light,  they  uuist  come  here  to  fight  with  us."  These  people 
lived  in  peace  after  that. 

(U).  TiiK  (iit.\Nn>r(n  iiK.i;  and  iiki;  ( iitAXOsox 

An  aged  grandmother  and  her  grandson  lived  by  themselves  in  a 
lodge  in  the  forest.  When  the  giand>on  had  grown  to  be  (piite  a 
large  bov  his  grandmother  said  to  him:  "Here  are  a  bow  aiul  a 
(|uiver  of  arrows.  They  were  formerly  used  by  your  uncle,  who  was 
killed  by  a  gi'eat  "itch.  .So  lake  the  iiow  and  the  (|ni\er  of  ai'rows 
and  learn  to  use  them." 

The  next  inoi'liing  the  granduiother  saiil  to  luT  V((Ung  charge: 
"  Now.  g(]  out  and  try  to  kill  some  birds,  ^'on  may  go  as  far  as  you 
like,  bul  <lo  not  go  northward."  ■"  Then  she  gave  him  a  breakfast  of 
jiai'ched  corn,  which  hunters  were  accustomed  to  eat,  for  on  such  a 
nu'al  they  would  not  licroine  hungry  so  soon  as  on  any  otiiei'  kind  of 
food.  Starling  out.  the  young  grandson  went  through  the  woods 
shooting  birds.  Hy  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  mejit.  Having  returned  to  his  home, 
the  lad  showed  his  gi-andmother  the  string  of  birds  which  he  had 
killed.  She  was  much  pleased  with  his  success,  and  dre.s-sed  the  birds, 
pounded  coi-n  for  bread,  and  made  hominy,  in  which  she  cooked  the 


348  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANX.  32- 

hirds.  When  these  things  were  clone  they  two  ate  their  evening 
meal. 

The  next  morning  the  grandmother  again  gave  her  grandson 
jnirehed  corn  to  eat,  and  when  he  had  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  gieeted  him  at  the  doorway  with  the 
words.  ■■  I  thank  you.  grand.son,  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  southward  from  here.  You  must 
never  go  to  the  northward,  for  many  dangers  lurk  there  which  may 
cut  us  both  off.  for  yon  and  I  are  the  only  persons  of  our  family  who 
are  left  from  destruction  by  sorcery.  So  if  you  are  ol)edient  and 
li.sten  to  mv  words  of  caution  to  you.  we  shall  probably  live." 

The  next  morning  after  his  usual  breakfast  of  parched  cornmeal 
the  grandson  started  off.  On  that  day  he  went  farther  awa.v  than 
on  any  previous  days,  and  he  .saw  many  different  kinds  of  game,  such 
as  he  had  not  seen  before.  While  animals  of  a  certain  kind  were 
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  escaped. 
He  went  up  to  the  dead  game  animal,  and  pidling  out  his  arrow, 
cleaned  it  in  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  instructed  bv  his 
grandmother.  Then  stripping  off'  baric  from  a  neighboring  tree 
and  tying  the  game  animal,  so  as  to  carry  it  the  more  easily  on  his 
shoulders,  he  started  for  home.  A\'hen  he  reached  the  doorway  of  his 
home,  he  said  to  his  grandmother,  "  1  iiave  larger  game  this  time." 
She  was  delighted  with  what  he  had  brought  home  and  thanked 
him  for  his  prowess,  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.  AVhen  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.  Having  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?  "  P'inally  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
would  then  and  there  disregard  the  injunction  of  his  grandmother. 
So  he  changed  his  course  to  the  northward.     Soon  he  found  a  large 


■^^;^^  LECENDS  349 

miinbci-  of  birds.  Hut  ho  had  not  ixone  iniu'h  farther  before  he  lieard 
some  one  call:  "■  Ilallo.  nephew  !  I  have  eau<rlit  you."  LooUiiiir  up. 
ho  saw  !i  man  sittinji  on  a  restiiiii:  ])hu;e  formed  of  the  tojis  of  several 
trees,  whieii  liad  been  drawn  and  tied  tiirethei'  in  a  tuft  or  sheaf  of 
bi'anelios.  Thei-e  the  man  sat  as  if  he  \vei-e  in  a  basket.  "  \\'ell.  mv 
nephew,"  he  eontinue<l.  "  what  would  you  do  if  it  should  lain 
speais^"  The  youn<;  man  rei)lied.  "Oh!  we  shoukl  bo  very  tiiank- 
ful  for  them,  for  we  need  some."  Then  the  younir  nian  i-au  home- 
ward as  fast  as  ho  eould.  IIaviii<i  arri\od  there,  "jraspinir  his  grand- 
mother by  tiie  hand,  he  diai;<i('(l  hei-  alonn;  with  the  I'omark,  '' Oh  1 
grandmother,  we  nnist  run  and  hide."  Siie  an.swered  him.  "Oh! 
my  grandson,  you  ha\e  been  to  the  nortii.  where  I  told  yon  not  to 
go."  But  ho  pulled  her  along  as  fast  as  she  could  go.  until  linalh' 
they  caino  to  a  spring:  leaping  into  this,  they  wont  along  under- 
ground until  tiiey  came  to  a  rock.  There  they  sat  down  and  silently 
waited  a  long  time.  At  la.st  the  boy  .said:  "•  1  think  that  the  storm  is 
ovei-.  Lot  us  go  home  now."  When  they  reached  home  they  found 
the  lodge  lexolotl  to  the  ground.  The  p(K)r  old  grandmother  said. 
"This,  indeed,  comes  of  your  going  to  the  noi-thward,  where  I  told 
you  not  to  go."  liut  the  grandson  coolly  remarked:  "  Nevei-  mind. 
Oh!  gi'andniothei-,  I  will  soon  have  a  lodge  here."  Then  walkin<r 
around  an  area  as  large  as  ho  dosii-od  the  lodge  to  be,  he  o.xclaimod, 
"Let  a  lodge  at  once  lill  this  space  of  ground."  Hardly  had  his 
Avords  died  away  before  a  lodge,  complete  in  all  its  aii])ointments, 
stood  there.  Then  the  grandmothoi-  and  her  potent  grandson  entered 
it  and  they  two  lived  in  it,  more  comfortable  than  they  wore  befoie. 
The  next  morning,  after  having  eaten  his  breakfast  of  parched 
corn,  the  youth  again  started  olf  southward  to  hunt.  But  taking  a 
<"ircuitous  course,  he  finally  headed  towaid  the  north,  remarking  to 
himself.  "I  had  some  fun  with  my  uncle  yesterday,  so  I  nuist  go  to 
see  what  he  will  say  this  time."  Soon  ho  saw  so  many  l)ir(ls  and 
was  so  much  occupied  in  killing  them  that  lie  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  vou  do 
if  I  should  send  a  shower  of  stones?"  The  youth  replied.  "We 
.-hould  b(>  much  pleased,  for  my  gi-andmothor  often  needs  stones  foi- 
pounding  her  corn  for  meal."  So  saying,  the  young  man  fled  home- 
ward. Having  arrived  there,  he  grasped  his  grandmother  bv  the 
arms  and  rushed  her  to  the  river,  and  then  up  the  river  to  the  sjiriuL'. 
The  giandmothor  scolded  him  as  they  fled,  saying.  "  Oh  !  tliis  is  too 
bad,  grandson:  you  have  gone  northward  again."  Then  she  would 
weep  bitterly.  .\t  last,  coming  to  the  spring  and  descending  into  it. 
they  crept  along  until  they  came  again  to  the  rock  under  which  they 
took  sholtoi-  before.  There  they  sat  until  finally  the  youth  said.  "  I 
think  the  storm  is  now  over;  let  us  go  homo."     On  roachin"  homo 


350  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

they  found  their  lodge  in  ruins  again.  But  tlie  youth  encouraged 
his  grandmother  with  comforting  words  and  commanded  the  erec- 
tion of  another  lodge  as  he  had  done  in  the  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  bnsiness  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  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  I  do  not  be  so  hard  on  me  as  that."  The  youth  replied,  "  Oh  I 
1  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  until 
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  pi-eviously  done. 

The  next  morning,  after  his  usual  preparations,  the  youth  started 
out  southward  from  his  home.  AVhen  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  numiier  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 :  "  Well,  grandmother^ 
I  have  destroyed  my  uncle.  He  is  no  longer  on  the  tree."  The 
grandmother  replied,  warmly.  "  AVell,  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. 


hrw/tt]  legends  351 

Karly  tho  next  iiioniiiijir  the  ydiiiiir  man  ate  liis  hi-eakfast  of 
parched  funuiu'al,  after  which  he  stai-tcil  nli'.  ilclfriuiiu'il  to  liml 
liis  other  uncle,  wlio  lived  in  a  lodge.  Keaciiing  the  place  where 
the  trees  were  iii)rooted.  he  found  his  first  uiude  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  smokediole.  Somewiiat 
pleased,  the  youth  said.  "AVell.  1  must  go  over  there  and  take  a  look 
into  that  lodge,  for  tiiat  unist  he  tlie  place  where  mv  second  uncle 
lives."  Going  tlirectly  to  the  lodge  and  ojiening  the  door-llap.  lie 
[jceied  in.  and  said  to  an  old  man  sitting  inside.  "  Well,  uncle.  I 
have  come  to  \  isit  yo\i."'  The  old  man  caludy  replied:  "  Couic  in. 
nephew.  I  lia\X'  a  rule  whicli  all  who  come  here  to  xisit  me  follow: 
that  is.  that  we  must  lam  a  race  across  this  field  and  hack  again. 
We  bet  our  heads  on  this  race."  The  youth  answeri'd.  "Well,  if 
that  is  your  rule,  we  will  run  the  race  at  once."  So  they  went  out 
of  doors.  Drawing  a  marlc  across  the  opening,  the  old  man  said  to 
the  youth:  "We  will  lun  to  that  red  post  o\er  there  at  the  end  of 
this  opening.  If  I  can  get  hack  and  across  this  line  Hrst  I  will  cut 
oft'  your  head:  hut  if  you  return  and  cross  it  fir.st  you  shall  cut  oil' 
my  head.  So  be  ready."  At  the  line  they  stood  .side  by  side:  then 
the  old  man  shouted,  "Now.  go  I  "  They  were  ofT  in.stantly  and  I'an 
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  jiath  of  the  old  man,  who  had 
made  considerahle  headway  whdc  the  hoy  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.  "()h.  my  uncle!  I  have  won  the  i-ace." 
The  uncle  disputed  this,  hut  when  he  found  that  it  was  of  no  use 
he  begged  for  another  smoke,  hut  the  nephew  refusing  him,  he  sub- 
sided. The  youth  took  out  of  his  ])ouch  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.  .\s  the  fire  died  out  the 
old  man's  head  burst  and  out  of  it  ilcw  an  owl.  Then  the  youth 
went  home  and  told  his  grandmother  what  he  luul  done.  But  she 
re))lied.  "You  still  have  a  thii'd  uncle,  who  is  also  a  great  sorcerei-." 

The  next  morning  the  youth  stai'ted  oil  again,  this  time  to  visit 
his  third  uncle.  On  his  way  he  i)assed  the  u]irooted  trees  and  then 
the  burneil  lodge.  Keeping  on.  he  saw  some  distam-e'ahead  a  lodge 
standing  in  a  <'learing  in  the  foi'est.  AA'hen  he  canu'  to  the  edge 
of  the  woods,  he  fo\ind  that  the  o])ening  was  huge  and  that  the 
lodge  stood  on  llie  farther  side  of  it.  This,  he  thought,  nmst  be 
the  lodge  of  his  third  uncle.  When  he  readied  the  lodge,  he  looked 
in   it.  saviiiiT  to   a    man   sittiiiL'   inside.  "A\'ell.   uncle.   T    am   here   to 


352  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MVTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

^•isit  you."  The  man  replied :  "  Oh  nephew  !  I  am  ghid  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  'i  "  ''  We  hide  right  here 
in  this  room,"  answered  the  uncle.  "  I  will  hide,  and  if  you  do  not 
find  me  before  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  tlie 
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  you,  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  outside  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  j'outh  called  out  to  his  victim:  "  Oh,  uncle  I  I  have 
found  you.  I  have  won  the  game."  Thereupon  the  old  man  begged 
for  one  more  smoke,  but  the  youth,  laiowing  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  jiersons  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  orenda  than 
the  others.     I  advise  vou  not  to  go  near  him,  for  I   greatlv   fear 


CUHTIN, 

IIKWITT 


]  LEGENDS  353 


tliut  harm  will  conic  to  you."     The  fj;iaiidson  said,  "  I  shall  not  go, 
graiidniotliei'."' 

The  next  morning,  after  eating  his  re|)ast  of  parched  cornnieai, 
he  started,  directing  his  course  southwai'd.  But  when  he  was  out 
of  sight  of  his  lodge  he  changed  his  course  toward  the  north. 
Making  a  circuit  around  his  home,  lie  pa.ssed  all  thi-ee  places  wdiere 
he  had  visited  his  unt'les,  and  finally  came  to  a  fourth  opening  with 
a  lodge  standing  in  its  center.  Ai-i-i\ing  at  tiie  hxlge,  he  i)eeped 
into  it;  there  he  saw  a  man  who  was  still  okler  than  his  otiier  uncles. 
Making  his  presence  known,  he  said,  "  Well,  uncle,  I  have  come  to 
visit  you."  The  old  man  answered,  saying:  "It  is  well,  my  nephew. 
Come  in  and  sit  down.  I  Iiave  a  game  which  I  play  with  all  those 
who  come  to  visit  me.  1  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  return  in  as  short  a  time  as  possil)le." 
(ioing  to  the  ri\cr  baid<.  ami  seeing  a  tlock  of  ducks,  the  youth 
calletl  them  to  come  to  him.  ^^'hen  they  did  .so,  he  said  to  them: 
"T  have  a  bet.  and  1  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  my  throw."  At  once  six 
of  the  ducks,  removing  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  wiicn  I  play  you  nmst  all  drop  with  your  sights  turned 
up."  "When  he  entered  the  lodge,  he  said  to  the  old  man,  '"  AVe  will 
play  with  my  dice."  The  old  man  objected  to  the  use  of  the  dice 
belonging  to  the  youth.  l)ut  tlic  latter  insisted  on  his  right  to  use 
his  own  tlice,  as  the  person  ciialicngcd.  They  spread  a  deerskin 
on  the  gi-ound.  on  which  tiiey  placed  a  bowl.  When  the  youth  had 
put  his  dice  into  the  bowl,  he  asked  his  uncle  to  take  tiie  first  tiirow. 
l)iit  tiic  old  man  was  not  willing  to  do  so.  After  disputinir  for 
some  time.  howe\er.  the  old  man  shook  the  bowl.  whereu|)on  the 
eyes,  as  ducks  quatking  as  they  Hew,  rose  slowly  to  the  smoke-hole, 
and  then  fell  back  into  the  bowl  as  dice,  some  right  side  u])  and 
others  the  wrong  .side  up.  Then  the  youth  shook  the  \>u\\\.  and 
the  dice  flew  up  as  ducks.  (|uacking  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  yduth  ci-ied  out:  "Let  the  count  be  five.  Let  the 
count  be  five."  In  a  shoit  time  they  heard  the  ducks  coming  in  the 
distance,  and  then  they  soon  dro])pe(l  into  the  dish  as  dice  again, 
all  being  right  side  up.  at  which  the  youth  cried  out.  "I  ha\c  won 
the  game."    The  old  man  begged  to  be  permitted  to  take  one  smoke 

94C,1.5°— 18 2.S 


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  phicing  the  head  and  body 
of  the  old  man  in  the  lodge,  he  set  it  on  fire.  When  the  head  hurst 
open,  out  flew  an  owl.  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  of  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  liy  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  l)y  the  time 
night  came  he  had  as  many  white-ash  arrows  as  he  could  well  cany. 

The  next  morning,  bringing  out  a  deerskin,  he  caused  his  grand- 
mother to  sit  on  it.  Then,  covering  her  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  bundle  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  ellc — ■ 
and  while  hedgehogs  were  climbing  the  lodge  roof,  the  grandmotlier, 
becoming  frightened  at  the  strange  sounds,  removing  the  buckskin 
covering  from  her  head,  looked  up  through  the  smoke-hole  to  see 
Avhat  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. 


CUKTIN 
HEWIT 


;]  LEGENDS  355 


A\'liik'  tlie  great  whiti'  duiT  was  rushing  through  the  forest  u  ]);uk 
of  bhick  wolves  came  upon  its  tracks,  and,  soon  overtaking  it.  killed 
both  it  and  the  man.  The  next  morning  the  aged  gramhiiother, 
in  an  atteni[)t  to  repair  the  damage  lione  through  her  lajxse  of  memory 
and  gi'eat  curiosity,  followed  the  tracks  of  the  game  in  order  to  find 
her  grandson.  The  game  had  l)eaten  a  broad  trail  tlii'ough  tiie 
forest  as  they  ran.  In  tiie  afternoon  of  the  day  the  youth  ilisap- 
peared  the  sky  and  clouds  in  the  west  appeared  very  red.'"'  Seeing 
tiiis.  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  aiul  the  man  were  killed.  The  grandmother 
followed  the  trail  all  that  day  until  the  evening  at  aliout  the  time 
she  had  seen  the  red  sky  and  clouds  tiie  day  before.  Then  she  came 
on  the  spot  wiiere  her  grandson  and  the  ileer  had  been  killed.  There 
she  saw  pieces  of  bloody  deerskin,  but  not  a  bone,  nor  a  bit  of  iiis 
body.     Then  she  returned  home  in  despair,  weeping  all  the  way. 

01.  IIeakt  Squeezino  anu  thk  1)an(  k  or  Xaked  I'kksons 

A  wonuin  and  her  son  li\ed  together  in  a  lodge  situated  not  far 
from  a  small  settlement.  The  boy  began  his  career  by  hunting  small 
game,  but  he  schju  killed  such  large  game  that  e\eryone  was  aston- 
ished at  his  prowess.  As  he  grew  oUler.  he  went  farther  and  farther 
into  the  woods.  His  motiier.  howi-ver.  always  warnetl  him  against 
going  towai'd  the  noi-theast.  saying  that  an  evil  woman  lived  thei-e. 

One  day  while  hunting  the  boy  thought.  "  I  do  not  believe  there  is 
an}'one  who  can  oxercome  me  magically."  whereupon  he  determined 
to  go  tt)ward  the  northeast.  Starting  tiiither.  he  .soon  came  to  an 
opening,  wheie  he  saw  a  W(iman  who  sang  out,  "  I  have  caught  you, 
my  brother."  and  at  that  moment  the  boy,  feeling  her  in  his  body 
S(|ueezing  his  heai't,  screamed  with  iiain.  Then  the  woman  stopped 
an  instant  and  then  s(|uec/.ed  his  heart  hardei-  than  before,  causing 
him  intense  pain.  Just  then  he  heard  a  womanV  voice  say.  "Hurry 
home,  and  as  ytiu  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  Toother  said,  "  \ u\\  ha\e  been  toward  the  northea.st, 
although  I  told  you  that  you  would  get  into  tiouble  if  you  went 
there."  The  motliei-  immediately  sent  a  messenger  to  tell  her  uncle, 
her  motherV  brother,  what  led  ha|ipenc(i.  and  he  ini|uii('d  what  the 
boy  sang.  The  messenger  told  him.  and  he  rcplieil.  "Tell  his  mother 
to  notify  ever\-one  that  she  is  going  to  ha\<'  a  dance  of  naked 
persons." 

All  the  pe<iple  were  notified  acc(irdingly.  The  old  man  came,  and 
one  by  me  all  the  rest  assembled.  Then  the  old  man  asked  whether 
nil  the  guests  were  there  who  had  been  invited.  The  woman,  tlio 
youth's    motliei'.    after    looking    around,    said.    "Yes."     Telling!    the 


356  SENECA   J'lCTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etii.  ann.  32 

people  to  take  off  their  garments,  :.ncl  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."  Reducing  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,'  when  you 
squeezed  my  heart."  Thereupon  the  woman  hurried  home.  Wlieii 
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  tlie 
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. 

fi'i.  Hot'iio,  the  Winter  God"'* 

One  day  a  man  while  out  hunting  met  Hotiio  and  said  to  him, 
"  You  can  not  make  nic  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. 


S"ew,tt]  legends  357 

After  rcacliin<r  home  the  man  carried  in  wood  enoufjli  to  burn  all 
nijiiit;  tiien  building  a  hii<;e  fire,  he  made  a  lar<ie  kettle  full  of  hem- 
lock' tea.  AViien  nifrht  came  he  stood  before  the  fii-e  readx  fm'  the 
contest.  All  nijrlit  Idiiir  there  he  stood,  turning!;  first  one  side  and 
then  tiie  otlier  to  the  fire  and  often  driiikincr  a  cup  of  the  boiling  liem- 
locjc  tea.  It  was  a  tcrrii)ly  cold  nijjiit  and  continued  to  prow  colder 
ini(il  near  mornin<r.  .lust  at  the  lucak  of  day  Hot'ho,  naked,  and 
cai'ryinf;  his  hatchet  in  a  slit  in  the  sliin  above  his  hi]),  came  into  the 
lodge,  and  sitting  down  on  a  pile  of  bark  by  the  fire,  said  t"  tiie  man, 
"  ^'ou  lia\c  beaten  me:"  and  at  tluit  moment,  growing  warmer,  it 
began  to  tluiw. 

'I'his  siiows  that  man  can  conquer  Hot'iio.  tiu'  god  of  cold  weather. 

03.  S'ii.\(;oi)iYowi;(,>i:oWA   and   His  'riiiua;   Hkothkhs ■'-'' 

There  lived  in  a  lodge  in  the  forest  S"liagodiyowe<|gowa  jind  three 
bi'others.  In  their  larder  they  !iad  an  ai)uiidaiu-e  of  oil,  venison, 
and  bear's  meat.  Of  tlu'  brothers  S'bagodiyow('(|gowa  was  the  eldest. 
Xot  far  from  their  lodge  lived  a  bi-other  aiul  his  sister.  The  brother, 
who  was  tiie  elder,  was  also  a  turtle. 

One  day  the  youngt'st  brother  of  Siiagoiliyowe(jgowa  said  to  his 
brothers.  "T  am  going  over  to  the  lodge  whei'e  the  Turtle  lives." 
His  brothers,  knowing  the  motive  of  the  visit,  replied:  "It  is  well. 
You  may  go."  foi-  they  thought  it  liest  tliat  he  should  get  mai'ried. 
So  after  making  suitable  pre|)arati(.ns.  he  started,  and  soon  he 
arri\ed  at  the  lodge  of  their  lu'ighliors.  lie  foimd  the  Tui'tle's  sister 
at  home.  The  visitor  ha<l  slung  o\i'i'  his  shoulder  a  |)ouch  tiiat 
contained  beai-"s  oil.  Sitting  down  near  Turtle's  sister,  he  said  to 
her,  "I  want  to  marry  you,"  but  she  made  him  no  ansv>er  nor  any 
sign  of  r-ci-ognitiim.  While  he  sat  there  waiting  for  her  i-eply,  he 
would  dip  his  linger  into  the  pouch  on  his  back,  aftcrwai'd  sucking 
olf  the  oil.  He  patiently  waited  all  day  for  her  reply,  and  when  it 
was  nearly  night  .she  answei'ed,  "I  have  decided  not  to  nuu'rv  vou." 
He  did  not  press  his  suit,  but  said,  "  It  is  well : "  then  lie  went  to  his 
home.  Having  arrived  there,  his  brothers  aslced  him  what  success 
he  had,  and  he  told  them.     They  answered,  "It  is  well." 

Then  the  next  elder  bi'other  said,  "  It  must  be  I  about  whom 
she  is  thinking."  The  ne.xt  morning  he  said,  "  T  .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  ])ur[)ose  of  marrving 
you.  Will  you  consent  to  be  my  wife?  "  Like  his  younger  brother, 
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  brothei-s  ask-ed  him  what 
success  he  had,  and   he  told   them.     They   answered,  "  It    is   well." 


358  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  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,  wliere  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 
sh'juld  ha^■e  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'hagodiyoweqgowa,  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- 
diyoweqgowa 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  liung  to  it.  At  that  moment  the 
visitor,  taking  his  staff  and  putting  his  foot  on  the  end  of  the  fii'elog, 
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  S'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,  Tiu'tle'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  tliere.  Then  finding  the  young  woman's  tracks,  he  pursued  iier. 
The  fugitives  had  gone  a  long  way  when  Turtle  said  to  his  sister, 


^;^.f\  LEGENDS  359 

"  S'hiigcjdiyoweijguwa  is  fast  overtaking  un  and  is  now  near  us."  So 
the  sister  kept  on  in  iier  fligiit,  and  as  she  got  over  a  fallen  tree 
Tiiitle  said  to  her,  "Leave  nie  here,  and  j'oii  continue  your  course."' 
Obeying  her  brother,  she  hastened  on  her  way. 

Not  long  after  her  de[)arture  Siiagodiyowecjgowa  came  along.  ;Vs 
he  walked  over  the  fallen  tree  he  stejjped  on  Turtle  witiiout  seeing 
him,  wlu'reupon  Tui'lle  promptly  bit  him  again.  At  this  S'hagodiyo- 
we(|g()wa  e.xclaiuied.  ■"  lliothei-in-law  !  let  go  of  my  foot;  you  are 
greatly  delaying  nie  on  my  coui-se."  But  as  Turtle  gave  no  heed  to 
what  his  brother-in-law  had  said  to  him.  S'hagodiyowecigowa  decided 
to  kill  him.  and  raisii\g  his  foot  with  Tuitle  hanging  to  it.  he  beat 
him  against  the  fallen  tree.  But  as  before,  striking  Turtle  only 
caused  him  to  gr<»w  in  size,  until  he  finally  became  large  enough 
to  sw'allow  his  encniy  again.  Tui'tle  waited  there  for  two  days 
until  he  luul  excreted  S'hagodiyowecjgowa ;  then  he  started  on  his 
way  again.  AA'hile  the  sistei'  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  Siiagodiyowe(|gowa  regained  con- 
sciousness, and  ai'ising.  said  to  himself.  "I  have  now  been  asleep  a 
very  long  time  and  nnist  continue  my  hunt";  .so  saying,  he 
stai'ted  in  pursuit  (Hice  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"hagodiy()wc(|gowa  is  again  overtaking  us, 
and  is  now  veiw  neai-  to  us.  ( )nce  more  drop  me  by  the  first  fallen 
tree  that  we  come  to."  .She  obeyed  and.  leaving  her  brother'  near  a 
fallen  tree,  kept  on  hei-  way. 

When  .S'iuigodiyoweiigowa  came  along  in  due  time  the  orciida  of 
Turtlt'  caused  him  to  pass  within  reach  of  the  latter,  who  again 
seized  his  foot  in  his  teeth.  \t  this  S'hagodiyowe(igowa  said  to  his 
bi-other-in-law,  "  \on  are  indeed  hindei-ing  me  greatly  in  my  jour- 
ney, .'^o  let  go  of  my  foot."  but  Turtle  paid  no  attention  t()  this  I'e- 
monsti'ance.  .*^o  Siiagodiyowc<|gowa  decided  again  to  beat  him  to 
death  against  the  fallen  tree.  So  he  began  to  do  this,  but  I'ui'tle 
only  grew  in  size  until  he  was  again  able  to  swallow  his  bi-other-in- 
law.  'I'urtle  waited  ther(>  for  two  days,  and  then  having  gotten  rid 
of  Siiagodiyowe(|gowa  as  before,  he  went  on  in  his  fliglit. 

At  the  expiration  of  Id  tiays  S'hagodiyower|go\va.  on  regainingcon- 
sciousness,  said  to  himself.  "  T  ha\e  now  been  asleep  a  very  long 
time,  and  I  must  continue  my  hunt";  so  he  resumed  at  once  [lursuit 
of  Tuitle  and  his  sister.  In  linu'  the  young  woman  again  grew  faint 
and  exhausted,  so  hei-  brother  said  to  her  as  she  cari'ied  him  along 
in  a  basket:  '' .S"hagi:diyowe(|<jrowa  is  again  overtaking  us  and  is  now 
quite  near  us.  .Still  again  diup  me  beside  the  first  fallen  tree  to 
which   vou  come  on   our   way."     She   was  willing  to  obey   him.  so 


360  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etii.  ANN.  82 

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.  Siiagodiyoweqgowa  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  foot  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- 
sumed 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  ke]it  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  voung  man's  sister  said.  "Why  do  you  place  food  in  there?" 
The  young  woman  replied,  "My  brother  is  in  there;  that  is  whj'  I 


^^^!^^  LEGENDS  361 

place  food  there."  Then  came  the  (iwestion.  "Can  I  see  him?"  The 
newly  arrived  woman  said:  "AVait  two  days,  and  you  can  see  him; 
then  he  will  come  out  as  a  I'ull-fledired  man.  He  shall  be  a  Turtle 
no  longer."  This  lodge  was  situated  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake. 
The  young  woman's  biother  did  come  out  a  full-grown  man.  After- 
ward he  ii\ed  witli  tlic  strange  man's  sister  as  her  luisband.  and  liis 
sister  became  tlie  wife  of  the  strange  man  who  liad  I'cscued  her  from 
Siiagodiyowe(|gowa  on  the  shore  of  fl\e  lake. 

[It  is  not  known  by  tiie  story-teller  who  this  man  and  his  sister 
were,  nor  who  the  four  brothers  were,  with  the  exception  of  one, 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa.    These  four  bi'others  are  Whirlwinds. — Editor.] 

Go.  The  Moosk  Wife 

A  young  man  living  alone  with  his  mother  concluded  to  go  into 
the  forest  to  hunt  foi-  a  whole  year,  collecting  and  drying  meat,  and 
intending  at  the  end  of  that  ]H'riod  (o  return  to  visit  his  mother.  So 
he  traveled  a  long  way  into  the  foiest  to  a  region  in  which  he  thought 
there  was  plenty  of  deer  and  other  game.  Thei-e.  ha\ing  built  a 
cabin,  he  began  housekeeping  by  himself.  Ilis  daily  routine  was  to 
make  a  fire,  get  breakfast,  and  then  start  off  to  hunt.  lie  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  wnidd  go  to  sleep.  lie  was  collecting  a 
great  quantity  of  cured  meat. 

One  evening  when  he  was  returning  fi'om  a  long  tramp  he  saw  as  he 
neared  his  cabin  smoke  issuing  from  tlie  smoke-bole  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  liis  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  dui-ing  the  time  he  had  lived  there 
and  dui'ing  his  journeys  he  had  never  found  a  cabin,  nor  had  lie  seen 
a  human  being.  He  searched  all  around  to  see  whether  he  could  find 
a  trace  of  a  pei'son's  visit.  He  saw  that  the  deer  he  had  bi-ought 
home  the  evening  before  was  dressed  and  hung  up,  that  a  pile  of 
wood  that  lie  had  cut  had  been  iirought  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  lu)  one  came. 

The  next  morning  he  started  as  usual  to  hunt.  AA'hen  he  i-eturned 
in  the  evening  he  looked  to  see  whetiier  smoke  was  coming  out  of  the 


362  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  Ieth.  anx.  S2 

smoke-hole  of  his  cabin.  There  was  smoke  issuing  from  it,  and  again 
he  foimd  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  Inickskin.  Thereupon  he 
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  the  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  tiie  lodge. 
Stealthily  creeping  back  toward  his  home,  he  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  <puckly  as  possible.  Tliere  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  \ery  happy  that  she  was  willing  to  i-emain.  She  never 
left  him  after  that.  Every  da}'  she  tanned  the  deerskins  and  cooked 
for  him,  woi-king  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  pioniise  to 
visit  his  mother,  she  said  to  him :  "  I  know  you  promised  to  visit 
your  mother,  and  the  time  is  now  here.  I  have  ever3'thing  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  everything  she  asked.  Early  the  ne.xt  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  I'iver.  When  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  of  meat,  which  they  packed  away  in  the 


CCHTI 

HE 


';T,'^:;]  legends  3G3 


canoe.  Giving  him  a  packnge,  siie  said:  "I  have  made  these  mocca- 
sins for  your  mother.  Here  is  another  [jacUage  for  you.  I  wish  you 
to  put  on  a  pair  every  moi'iiing.  tlirowing  away  tiie  okl  ones." 

He  promised  to  return  in  tlic  tall,  and  then  they  parted.  When 
he  leached  his  mothei'"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  tiie  great  amount  of  meat  he  had  lirought.  He  did  n<  t  tell  even 
his  mother  that  he  was  mai'ried,  and  many  young  girls  asked  I'oi-  him 
as  a  hushand.  His  mother  had  a  l)eautiful  girl  in  view  for  liiiu.  and 
continually  urged  him  to  mai'ry  her,  but  he  would  not  consent  A  fter 
a  whil(>  he  said  to  his  mother:  "T  am  going  to  the  woods  again.  I 
ha\('  a  cahin  there,  and  sometime  you  will  know  wliy  I  do  not  wish 
to  marry."    So  saying,  he  started  olf. 

When  he  reached  the  rivei-  he  shook  his  boat  as  his  wife  had  in- 
structed him  to  <lo.  whereupon  it  again  stretched  out.  (Jetting 
aboard,  he  started  up  the  ri\cr.  \\'hen  he  neared  his  cabin,  he 
saw  his  wife  waiting  for  him  and  his  little  boy  running  around  at 
play  and  they  were  very  ha])py  again.  She  told  him  she  loved  him 
better  than  ever,  for  he  had  withstood  temptation. 

.\nother  year  passed.  They  had  all  the  meat  they  could  talce 
care  of,  and  another  boy  had  been  born  to  them. 

-Vgain  she  got  him  ready  to  caiiy  meat  to  his  mother,  just  as 
she  had  done  before.  She  seemed,  however,  to  feel  that  this  time  he 
would  yiehl  to  temptation,  so  she  said  to  him:  "If  you  many 
another  woman,  you  will  never  see  me  again,  but  if  you  love  me  and 
your  children,  you  will  be  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  ])owei'  or  oicnda  fur 
hunting  will  vanish."     He  i)romised  her  everything. 

As  before,  on  reaching  liome  his  fame  as  a  hunter  brought  many 
beautiful  girls  to  ask  fm  him  in  marriage.  .Vgain  his  motliei- 
urged  him  to  marry,  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  beantil'ul  stranger,  a[)pearing  in  the 
village,  came  to  his  motlu'rV  lodge.  The  inothei-  urged  him  tn 
marry  her,  as  she  was  so  lovely,  and  he  finally  yielded. 

The  wife  in  the  woods,  knowing  the  conditions,  said:  "Now 
children,  we  must  be  getting  ready  to  go  away,  "^'our  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  ])ooi-  mother  was  always  wee|)ing  while  prejtaring  to 
leave  her  home. 

.Vftei'  the  man  had  taken  a  second  w  ife.  the  meat  in  his  lodge  begati 
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  [kth.  iNN.  82 

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  daj' 
when  he  came  home  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  liappen  if  I  was  untrue  to  her."'  Thereupon  he  decided  to 
go  back  to  his  first  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  an}'  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  hav6  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- 


S^^^/t^t]  legends  365 

dren  as  his  sons,  but  supposed  thov  bclonircd  to  people  liviiiti  in  the 
cabin. 

As  he  was  very  Ininirrv  and  tired,  lie  tlioiiffht  he  would  jjfo  in  and 
ask  for  food.  The  woman  turned  her  back  as  he  entered,  but  the 
eldest  boy,  recogniziiifi  his  father,  ran  to  him  and  put  his  hand  on  his 
knee.  The  father.  howe\er.  not  recoenizin<r  the  child,  i;;ently  pushed 
his  hand  away.  At  this  moment  the  motlier.  turning  around,  saw 
this  action.  "There."'  she  said,  '"I  told  you  to  Iceeji  away  from  him, 
for  he  does  not  love  you."  Now  the  iumu.  recoffnizinff  his  wife,  cried 
out,  begfj;ing  her  to  forgive  him  and  to  receive  him  home  again. 
He  seemed  to  be  soi-ry.  and  begged  so  hard  that  siie  foi-gave  him  and 
brought  him  his  little  daughter,  born  after  he  had  gone  away.  Ever 
afterward  he  was  true  to  his  ^^oose  wife  (for  s]i(>  was  a  Moose 
woman),  and  never  again  left  his  home  in  the  woods.  He  and  his 
little  family  were  always  very  happy. 

Gf).  S'liAGoniyow kqcjowa 

I  Mddorii  I 

A  nunil)er  of  Indians  traveling  northward  from  their  \illage  met 
a  S"hag()diyowe(|g()wa.  with  whom  tlu'v  talked.  He  said.  "  naweiiiii\o 
caused  me  to  be  around  to  assist  you."  His  inoutli  was  drawn  up  on 
one  side  and  down  on  the  other.  Continuing,  lie  said:  "If  anyone 
mocks  us  in  earnest,  we  will  enchant  him  liy  sorcery.  You  may  go 
to  work  making  a  uiask  I'cjiresenting  a  face  lik(>  iiiiiio.  and  tlicu  von 
can  cure  by  means  of  it  the  sick  who  are  troubled  by  us.  ilie  S"ha- 
godiyoweqgowa.  In  this  way  you  may  talce  my  place."  So  the 
people  ni:ide  wooden  masks,  to  be  used  as  <lirect('(l.  This,  it  is  said, 
is  the  oi'igin  of  the  .Society  of  False  Faces,  or  Ma-kers.  so  pi-oiiiiiient 
among  the  Seneca. ''--' 

(ifi.   TiiF,  Poi;(ri'iM;"s  (Iijandsdn   and   tiii;   lii.Ai; 

.V  widower,  who  had  a  small  son.  married  a  -ccond  time.  Soon 
after  this  event  he  took  his  wife  and  child  into  tin-  forest  to  Iiunt. 
They  lived  very  liap]iily  until  the  new  wife  licgan  to  think  that  her 
husband  Iov(>d  his  child  better  than  he  did  hei-.  This  trouiiled  her 
beyond  measure,  so  that  she  became  very  uneasy,  thinldtig  of  nothing 
else.  Then  slie  began  to  study  how  to  get  rid  of  the  boy.  and  at  last 
resolved  to  destroy  him. 

So  one  day  while  hci'  husband  was  out  liuntiiig.  ^lic  tool-c  the  liov 
into  the  woods  to  a  cave,  whose  mouth  was  closed  with  a  rock.  She 
rolled  away  the  stone  from  in  front  of  the  ojiening.  at  the  same 
time  telling  tli(>  boy  tiiat  there  were  liears  in  tiic  cave,  and  tliat  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  deserted  him. 


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

When  night  came  the  father  returned  from  hunting,  and  imme- 
diatel.v  missing  his  l)oy.  asked  where  he  was.  The  woman  answei'ed 
that  he  was  at  play  when  she  went  to  gather  bark,  and  that  when 
she  came  home  she  coukl  n(jt  find  him.  asserting  further  that  she 
had  been  hunting  in  all  directions  for  him.  and  that  she  was  afraid 
he  liad  lieen  carried  off  by  some  wild  beast.  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  giving  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  e.xhausted,  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  Poi'cupine  said:  "My  dear  grandson,  we  must 
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  \'on  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  assembly 
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, 


r,^;^?','.?r']  LEGENDS  367 

■•  Well,  I  will  try."  Walkiiijr  up  slowly  iiiul  majestically  to  the  bloek- 
in<^  stone,  she  e.xaiiiiiied  the  scratches  made  iiy  the  other  animals  until 
slit>  iiiailc  \\\)  her  mind  ho\\'  to  act.  and  then  she  very  quickly  got  the 
stone  away.  Tlirii  peepinc  in,  she  saw  a  Porcupine  and  a  human 
being,  whereupon  she  hui-ricd  away  from  the  o[)ening  as  ihoueh  she 
was  greatly  frightened  .Vs  the  other  animals  looked  in.  they,  too, 
took  to  theif  heels  until  they  were  far  enough  away  to  make  sure  of 
escape:  then  they  waited  to  see  what  was  to  take  place. 

'I'he  Porcupine,  coming  out,  tohl  them  not  to  be  frightened, 
."^aid  she.  "  ^^■e  aic  very  poor,  my  grandso,;  ami  T."  She  told  them 
further  how  he  catne  there  and  that  her  stocic  of  food  was  exhausted, 
adding.  ■"  .Many  of  you  aie  well  able  to  care  for  him,  so  I  want  you  to 
take  chaige  of  my  gi'andson."'  All,  even  the  birds,  announced  th(Mr 
willingness  to  ilo  so.  "Now,"  she  coiitiuiiiMl.  "  I  want  to  know  what 
you  will  give  him  to  eat.  and  when  I  make  up  my  mind  that  my 
grandson  can  li\c  on  the  food  that  any  one  of  you  can  su])ply,  I  will 
give  him  to  that  <inc.  To  my  faithful  friends,  the  birds,  I  give 
thanks:  you  may  go,  for  I  do  not  think  my  ei'inidson  could  live  on 
anything  you  could  give  him." 

All  had  bi'ought  specimens  of  what  they  c<(uld  furnish  and  had  laid 
them  before  the  Poi'cupine.  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  i-hould  run," 
the  wolf  replied,  theicupon  running  olT  to  show  her-,  and  then  cominsr 
liack.  ■■  \o,  my  grandson  can  not  go  with  you;  he  couhl  not  run 
fast  enough."  The  tlccr  (•ame  forward  with  the  most  suitaMe  foo(l. 
but  when  the  Porcupine  asked.  "AAdiat  would  von  do  in  case  of 
danger r"  the  deer  ran  ofi"  at  such  speed  that  his  horns  could  be  heard 
rattling  thi-ough  the  woods.  Last  of  all  the  old  bear  came  forward, 
saying:  "  \(>\\  have  all  failed.  Tli(iui;h  I  lunc  a  lai-ire  familv  <>(  mv 
own.  I  will  take  the  lioy  and  will  feed  him  as  T  feed  my  cubs,  on 
blacklieri-ies.  rlie>tunt>.  and  fruit."  Wlini  a-ked  what  she  would  do 
in  danger.  goin<j  liack  to  hei-  little  t'ubs.  she  ga\('  them  the  sign  of 
danger,  at  which  they  all  crouched  down  beside  a  loij;  while  she  lav 
'  at  their  side  watching.  She  said  :  "  That  is  what  T  do.  and  thus  we  lie 
still  until  I  flunk  the  danger  is  past.  I  know  where  the  berries  <rrow 
in  abimdance.  and  I  will  take  them  there.  1  know  also  whei'c  my 
winter  (juarters  will  lie:  thei'e  my  cubs  will  irct  iu>ur-ishment  liv 
sucking  my  fat  paws."  The  Porcuiiine  then  said;  "  "^'ou  ai-e  the  one 
to  care  for  my  grandchild.  1  wish  you  to  take  fjood  care  of  him.  I 
am  now  (joiiiir  for  food."  The  lioy  never  saw  the  l^orcupine  airain. 
'l"he  child  thought  the  bear  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  that  slu'  was 
like  a  human  being,  and  that  they  were  all  like  real  peojde. 

She  led  the  boy  and  the  cubs  to  the  ])lace  where  the  berries  and 
chestinits  were  abundant.     They   played   as  they   went   alony.     The 


368  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth  anx.  32 

young  bears  became  very  fond  of  the  boy.  When  the  okl  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  off.  Then  she  scolded 
her  cubs  and  was  angry  with  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  until  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  tlie  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 
coidd  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  mu.st  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  firet;  each  time  one  emei'ged  the  boy  heai'd 
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 


CUllT 
HE 


';T,',;^:;,]  legknds  369 


will  be  Nvell  with  3'ou";  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.  Tlu'  linutcr,  hearing  him.  was  astonished. 
Then,  remembering  having  heard  that  a  child  had  been  lost,  he 
though  it  miglit  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  s])eak  a  word,  ha\ing  forgotten  how  to  talk. 
Skinning  the  largest  cub.  the  hunter  made  leggings  for  the  child  from 
the  skin.  The  boy  was  grieved  (o  see  his  companions  dead  and  cut 
u]i.  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  child  again.  Ever  afterward  he  kept  the  boy  near  himself, 
and  in  the  future  all  was  well. 

G7.    (iKNONSOWA 

An  old  woman,  the  eldest  of  her  people,  lived  in  (he  forest  with 
two  gi-aiulchildrcn.  a  boy  and  a  girl.  One  day  while  the  old  woman 
was  away  a  female  Genonsgwa  came  into  the  lodge  and  i)ickcd  up 
the  younger  child,  the  girl.  After  sjicaking  kindly  to  her.  saying 
that  she  was  a  good  little  thing,  she  swallowed  her.  Then  she  l)egan 
to  talk  to  the  l>oy.  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  woui(l  liike  him  out  to 
find  his  grandmother.  After  climbing  on  hei-  liack,  he  soon  beciinie 
fiightened.  whereupon  he  grasped  her  so  tightly  that  he  became 
fastened  to  her  back  so  that  he  could  not  get  olT.  though  he  tried  hard 
to  do  so.  The  Genonsgwa,  risin|g,  went  in  a  direction  different  fiom 
that  in  which  his  grandmother  iiad  gone.  The  boy  told  her  cf  her 
mistake,  but  she  said.  "Oh!  we  shall  come  to  the  place  where  she  is.'' 
The  Genonsgwa  went  very  far  into  the  woods.  'I'he  l)oy  began  to 
cry  for  his  grandmother,  and  cried  so  hai'd  that  (lie  (lenonsgwa  told 
him  to  get  off  her  baclv;  she  di<l  not  like  to  lieai-  him  cry,  she  said, 
but  as  she  wanted  to  eat  him.  lie  did  not  gel  olf :  in  fact,  he  could  not 
do  so.  Fortimately,  the  (ienonsgwa  could  neither  get  her  hands 
around  to  pull  him  olf.  nor  turn  her  head  to  l>ite  him.  She  coidd  not 
get  at  iiim  in  any  way.  Know  ing  this,  the  boy  clung  to  the  middle 
of  her  back",  realizing  that  she  would  eat  him  uj)  if  he  slippeil  down. 
They  traveled  on  thus  for  many  days. 

When  the  grandmother  came  liack  to  lief  lodge  and  found  that  the 
bov  and  the  girl  were  not  there,  she  became  \ery  uiu-asy.  She 
searched  for  them  l)ut  found  no  trace  of  either,  .\ftcr  a  wiiile.  find- 
ing the  tracks  of  the  Genonsgwa  around  tlie  lodge,  she  guessed  what 
the  trouble  was.  The  old  woman  followcnl  the  trail  of  the  fienonsirwa. 
saying  that  she  was  bound  to  get  her  grandchildren  back. 
94(515"— 18 24 


370  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ijth.  ANN.  32 

Genonsgwa  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 followed  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  grand-scn.  On 
the  path  she  said:  "Never  allow  yourself  to  be  treated  this  way 
ag;»in.  Never  allow  yourself  to  be  maltreated  by  an^^one.  You  can 
master  all  those  Genon.sgwashonon,''-'^  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  laj'  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 
l^erhaps  half  a  pouch  full  of  tobacco,  meanwhile  fanning  the  smoke 
toward  the  Genonsgwa  woman  all  the  time,  and  saying:  "This  is 


CUUTIN, 
HKWITT 


]  LEGENDS  371 


what  we  like.  Do  you  come  out  of  Genonspwa's  i)elly."  Tliore  was 
no  siiin  yet  of  her  frraiulchuiirliter.  She  had  not  yet  come  foi'th.  At 
last  tlie  old  woman  said  to  hei'  ijrandson :  "  We  must  iiave  more  help. 
You  have  a  trreat  many  relatives — uncles,  aimts.  and  cousins.  We 
must  call  them  here."  Thereupon  the  old  woman.  Dapwanoenyent- 
gowa,  called  repeatedly.  'Jhev  came  out  l>v  one.  Soon  there  was  a 
great  number  of  them.  Having  broken  up  ami  removed  all  the 
clothes  of  the  (lenonsgwa,  they  threw  them  away,  leaving  the  tlead 
body  naked.  Then  the  old  woman,  building  a  lire  at  (Jenonsgwa's 
heail.  l)urned  tobacco  on  it.  All  the  Dagwanoenyent  people  walked 
around  the  fire,  each  throwing  tobacco  on  it  and  saying.  "This  is 
what  we  like."  After  each  one  had  gone  ai'ound  once  and  had 
thrown  tobacco  into  the  fire  once,  the  young  girl  started  up  in  the 
Genonsgwa's  belly,  and  panting  for  breatli.  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  wliile  a  Genonsgwa  came  to  the  old 
woman's  lodge,  who  talked  pleasantly,  in(|uii'ing  how  they  were. 
Having  found  out  that  they  were  oidy  three  in  number,  the  (Je- 
nonsgwa  went  back  home,  thinking  it  would  be  a  small  work  to  kill 
them  all.  .\fter  the  (ienonsgwa  went  away  the  old  woman  .said: 
"  A\'e  are  in  trouble  now.  There  is  a  great  number  of  these  (Je- 
non.sgwa  people  leagued  against  us.  They  are  assembled  some- 
where, not  far  away.  When  this  struggle  commences  we  do  not 
know  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  hei'  grandmother,  who  said:  "I  am  call- 
ing 3'our  relations  to  help  us.  \'ou  are  a  Dagwanoenyent.  too." 
The  Dagwanoenyents  came  one  by  one.  When  all  had  come,  thei-e 
were  (lO  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  ea.se."'  AVhen  tliey  had 
gathered  stones  the  (ienon.'^gwa  began  to  come,  thousands  ujion  thou- 
sands in  number.  The  Dagwanoenyents  wei-e  frightened  when  they 
saw  them,  but  the  old  woman  who  led  them  said:  "' A\'e  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  'etreat  slowly  in  different  directions."  The 
'Dagwanoenyents  took  her  advice.  Whenever  they  had  a  chance, 
they  struck  and  killed  a  (ienonsgwa.  retreating  all  the  time  and 
killing  the  (ienonsgwa  for  a  long  distance.  The  old  woman  then 
told  all  her  people  to  go  np  a  high  mountain  toward  the  south,  ahead 


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

of  them,  figliting  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  thej'  will  all  perish."  The  Genonsgwa  came  to  the  mountain 
top,  where  there  was  a  large  clear  space.  Looking  aroimd  on  every 
side,  they  saw  notliing  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  tliem 
■on  both  sides  of  tlie  mountain.  The  noise  grew  louder  and  louder, 
until  presently  the  Dagwanoenyents  struck  them  on  both  sides,  and 
iiniting  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  (lenonsgwa  into  the  ravine 
and  ri\er  Ijelow.  The  Genonsgwa  were  piled  upon  one  another  like 
the  rocks  on  the  banks  and  in  the  bed  of  tiie  river.  The  Dagwanoen- 
yents were  now  dancing  on  the  mountain  top,  and  the  old  woman 
said :  "  We  have  hurled  the  (ienonsgwa  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 
we.stern  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  iu)t  tell 
without  difficulty  of  what  material  it  was  made.  She  had  seven 
daughters,  six  of  whom  wei'e  carried  oft  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  U])  out 
of  the  grave  through  a  hole  in  the  earth.    Wrapping  the  baby  in  her 


•^^i;^;?.;.  LEGENDS  373 

blanket,  the  old  woman  took  it  home.  She  did  not  know,  she  did  not 
even  sns])ect.  tiiat  her  daiitrhtei'  was  with  cliild  when  she  died. 

'I'hc  little  hoy  grew  verv  rapidly.  \\'hen  he  was  of  fijood  size  the 
old  woman  eaine  home  one  day  from  "Tatheiinir  wood  but  could  not 
find  him.  'I'hat  niiiht  it  stoi-med.  with  thunder  and  lightnin<r  rajiing. 
In  the  morning  the  child  returned  to  her.  His  grandmother  asked, 
"  \\'here  have  you  been,  my  grandson^"'  "  ( irandmother,'"  .said  he, 
''I  have  been  with  my  father;  he  took  me  to  his  home."'  '"Who  is 
your  father^  "  "  Ilinon  is  my  fatliei':  he  took  me  home  lirst,  then  we 
came  back  and  weie  all  about  here  last  night."  The  old  woman 
i:sked,  '■  Was  my  daughter,  your  mother,  in  the  giave?  "  '"  ^"es,"  said 
the  boy,  "and  llinon  used  to  come  to  see  my  mother."'  The  old 
woman  believed  what  he  said. 

As  the  boy  grew  he  used  to  make  a  noise  lik(>  that  of  thundi>r,  and 
whenever  Hinon  caiue  to  the  neighborhood  he  would  go  out  and 
thmidei'.  thus  hel]iinL'  his  falhei-,  for  he  was  Ilinon  llohawaqk.  the 
son  of  Ilinon. 

Some  time  after  this  the  boy  asked  his  gi-andmother  where  his  si.x 
aunts  were,  and  the  grandmother  answered'  "There  are  an  old 
woman  and  hei-  son,  whose  lodge  is  far  away:  they  live  by  playing 
dice  and  betting,  ^dur  aunts  went  one  by  one  with  a  company  of 
peojile,  and  played  dice  (|)lum  ])its)  :  being  beaten,  their  heads  were 
cut  off.  Many  men  and  women  haxc  gone  to  the  same  idace  and  have 
lost  their  heads.'"  Hinon  IIohawai|k  answered,  "T  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  vei-y  ragged  and  dirty,  .so 
she  made  the  moccasins  and  got  him  tlu>  skin  of  a  ilying-squiirel  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  fi'ont  of  it.  and  on  the 
pole  a  skin  robe.  Ho  saw  boys  playing  ball  in  the  opening,  and  going 
on  a  side  path,  he  heard  a  great  noise,  .\ftei-  a  while  the  people 
saw  him,  whereupon  one  of  them  said,  "  I  do  not  know  where  that 
hoy  comes  from."  The  old  ])eople  were  betting  and  the  Ixjys  were 
playing  ball.  Soon  an  old  man  came  up  to  Hinon  llohawaqk  and 
gave  him  a  club:  he  phn'ed  so  well  that  the  old  man  came  again, 
saying,  "We  want  you  to  play  dice;  all  the  peoj)le  will  bet  on  you." 
A  bowl  was  ])laced  on  an  elk  skin  lying  under  the  polo.  The  woman 
and  her  son  were  there  and  the  other  peojde  stood  ai'ound.  Hinon 
Hohawaqk  answered,  "  I  do  not  know  how  to  play  the  game."'  The 
old  man  i-eplied,  "We  will  lisk  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    Hohawatik    knelt   down   beside   the   bowl.     .She   said,   "  Voii 


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  the}'  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  around  the  field.  When  all  had  settled 
down,  Hinon  Hohawacjk  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 


CURTI 
HEWITT 


pt]  legends  375 


head,  soon  she  looked  like  a  young  woman  and  lived  happily.  After 
a  time  Ilinon  lIoha\va(|k  went  oil'  with  Ilinon,  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.  "  \\'here  have  you  heen  ^  " 
she  asked.  He  answered:  "At  the  great  mountain  far  oil  in  the  west. 
1  liave  been  with  my  father  hel[)ing  the  nations  ami  protecting  men."' 
After  that  he  remained  with  his  grandmother  all  sunnner.  Once 
in  a  while  he  would  go  away  when  it  begjin  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  ha\e  an  uncle  living  in  the  west;  some  witch  stole 
him  from  you.  1  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  tire,  with  her  head  resting  on  her  hands. 
She  would  not  answer  when  he  asked  where  his  uncle  was.  Soon 
afterward  he  went  out.  and  t;iking  his  war  club  from  his  pouch,  he 
knocked  her  on  the  heail.  killing  her.  \\'heu  he  had  killed  the 
wonum  he  went  out  and  walked  all  around  the  lodge,  mourning  and 
looking  for  his  uncle.  At  last  he  heard  the  moaning  ()f  a  man.  lie 
looked  into  the  trees,  for  he  could  not  see  any  one  on  the  ground,  but 
could  not  lind  him.  Soon  he  came  to  a  large  slipi)ery-elni  ti'ee.  the 
great  roots  of  which  held  down  a  man,  his  head  coming  out  between 
two  roots  on  one  side  and  his  feet  between  two  on  the  other  side, 
while  the  tree  stood  just  on  the  middle  of  his  body.  He  was  calling 
to  iiis  nephew  to  give  him  a  smoke.  The  latter  answered:  "Oh. 
poor  uncle!  how  badly  olf  you  are.  Oh,  poor  uncle!  I  will  give 
you  a  smoke  very  soon."  Then  he  kicked  over  the  tree,  saying,  "  Rise, 
uncle!"  at  which  the  uncli!  ro.se,  well.  'J'aking  out  his  pouch.  Ilinon 
Hohawaqk  gave  the  old  man  a  smoke,  which  pleased  and  stivngthened 
the  uncle  \ery  much.  He  told  his  nephew  how  the  woman  had  be- 
guiled him  to  go  with  her.  pretending  that  she  wanted  to  marrv  him. 
When  she  liad  him  at  her  lodge,  however,  she  ate  him.  putting  his 
bones  undei-  the  elm  tree.  Then  both  the  uncle  and  the  ne|)hew 
went  home  to  the  long  lodge.  The  old  granduiodicr  was  surprised 
and  glad  to  see  them. 

All  lived  hapi)ily  in  thcii-  home  till  one  day  when  the  Son  of  Thun- 
der went  oil  in  a  storm.  When  it  was  o\er  he  brought  home  a  wife. 
After  that,  when  he  went  away  in  a  storm  his  wife  was  uneasy,  not 
knowing  where  he  was.  for  her  husband  had  brought  her  home  on 
his  back  such  a  long  distance  in  the  storm.  In  due  time  she  gave 
birth  to  a  son.  ^^'hen  the  boy  was  large  enough  to  run  about,  the 
old  man,  the  unci"  of  the  Son  of  Thunder,  whose  bones  had  lain 
uiuler  the  elm  tree,  began  to  teach  him,  and  soon  he  was  able  to  make 


376  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS'  [eth.  ANN.  32 

n  noise  like  thunder.  One  day  the  boy  follo^Yed  his  mother  out  of 
the  lodge.  They  had  a  small  dog,  and  as  the  boy  was  running  after 
his  mother,  somebody  seized  him  and  rushed  away;  but  the  dog  ran 
;ifter  him,  and,  contriving  to  seize  his  feet,  pulled  off  his  moccasins, 
whicli  he  carried  home.  This  was  the  first  indication  the  woman  had 
that  her  boy  was  gone.  Hinon  Hohawaqk  was  off  with  a  storm  at 
the  time,  and  when  he  came  home  his  wife  asked  whether  he  had 
taken  the  boy.  "  No,"  said  he.  '"  Oh  I  he  is  lost,"  cried  she.  "  Oh,  no ! 
he  is  all  right,"  said  Hinon  Hohawacjk ;  "  he  has  many  relations 
around  the  world — uncles  and  cousins."  The  boy  .stayed  away  all 
winter.  One  day  when  the  winter  was  over  he  came  home  with  his 
father.  Then  Hinon  Hohawaqk  said  to  tlie  people  of  his  family, 
"  AVe  must  all  move  away  and  live  with  my  father."  The  old  woman 
said,  "  No,  we  can  not  go;  it  is  so  far  and  I  am  so  old."  "  1  will  carry 
you  there  in  a  little  while,"  said  the  grandson.  Thereupon  Hinon 
Hohawaqk  began  to  thunder,  and  lightnings  flew  around.  The  lodge 
was  torn  to  pieces  and  blazed  up  in  Hames.  All  the  rocks  and  lodges 
in  the  opening  were  broken  to  pieces.  Hinon  Hohawaqk  and  all  of 
his  people  rose  in  the  air.  The  east  wind  began  to  blow,  bearing 
them  to  lofty  mountains  in  the  west,  where  they  found  old  grand- 
father Hinon.     All  live  there  in  the  caves  of  the  rocks  to  this  day. 

69.  Hagowanex  and  Ot'iiegwenhda '-* 

At  Hetgen  Tgastende^-^  lived  a  man  named  Hagowanen,  who  pos- 
sessed potent  orenda  (magic  power),  and  who  belonged  to  the  Don- 
yonda  people.  One  day  he  set  out  to  hunt.  In  his  canoe  he  sailed 
across  a  broad  lake  in  front  of  his  lodge,  and  then,  leaving  his  canoe 
on  the  other  side,  he  traveled  five  days  toward  the  west.  Then  he 
collected  wood  and  made  a  camp. 

On  the  first  day  of  his  hunting  he  killed  five  bears  and  deer, 
which  he  brought  into  his  camp,  saying,  "  What  bad  luck  I  have 
had  today  !  "  On  the  second  day  he  killed  10  bears  and  12  deer 
and  brought  them  home  and  skinned  and  roasted  them  to  dry  the 
meat  of  the  15  bears  and  18  deer  which  he  had  killed,  finishing  the 
work  before  daylight.  The  next  morning  he  said,  "  I  must  go  after 
moi-e  meat."  That  day  he  killed  24  deer  and  20  bears  and  brought 
them  into  camp,  and  skinned  them  and  finished  roasting  the  meat 
precisely  at  midnight.  Then  he  said,  "'  I  think  I  have  enough 
now."  Putting  all  the  meat  into  one  heap,  he  tied  it  up  with  bark 
ropes.  Then  he  shook  the  package,  saying,  "  I  want  you  to  be  small," 
at  which  it  shrank  into  a  small  package,  which  he  hung  in  his  belt. 
In  the  same  way  be  made  the  skins  into  similar  bundles,  which  he 
hung  to  his  belt,  and  then  set  out  for  home. 

When  Hagowanen  reached  the  lake  he  could  not  find  his  canoe; 
he  looked  everywhere,  but  he  could  see  nothing  of  it.     At  last,  he 


'i^i^l^.i]  '  LEGENDS  377 

saw  oil  tlie  shore  a  man  wliose  naiiic  was  Haiuljoias.""  AMit'ii  tlicj' 
met,  this  man  asked.  "  What  iiave  you  k)st '.  "  "  My  canoe,"  answered 
Hagowanen.  "  ^\'ell.  (he  man  w  ho  lives  on  tliat  island  yonder  was 
here  yesterday,  and  he  tooU  your  eanoe.'"  ie|)lied  Ilandjoias.  "Who 
is  the  man  on  the  island?"  said  llafjowanen.  "lie  is  one  of  the 
Ganyaqden  ■'■"  iieoplc',"'  was  (he  answer.  "  Ilow  am  I  to  uet  my  canoe 
harlv'^"  iiK|uired  IIajz:owanen.  "(iivc  me  what  meat  you  ha\e.  and  I 
will  get  it  tor  you."  said  Ilandjoias.  "  A\'hat  am  I  to  eat  if  I  do  that."' 
replied  Hagowanen.  "  I  will  do  i)etter.  1  will  liiing  the  canoe.  Take 
your  meat  home,  and  I'oast  it.  keeping  half  and  jnitting  the  other 
half  outside  of  the  door  of  the  lodge  for  me."  declared  Ilandjoias. 
"  \'ery  well,"  answered  Hagowanen.  Ilandjoias,  who  himself  had 
taken  the  canoe  to  the  islanil,  now  hiought  it  hack,  saying:  "That 
man  on  the  island  is  a  vei-y  ugly  fellow.  He  almost  killed  me." 
Getting  into  his  canoe.  Hagowanen  sailed  home;  on  arriving  lie  drew 
up  his  canoe  safely  on  the  rocks.  Then  he  untied  and  threw  down  the 
hundle  of  meat,  which  in  a  moment  i-egained  its  natural  size.  The 
meat  he  ])iled  up  inside  of  the  lodge,  and  tanned  the  skLns,  hut  lie 
never  paid  Handjoias  for  bringing  hack  the  canoe. 

After  a  time  a  woman  of  the  Ilongak  (Wild  (ioose)  peo]ile  came  to 
Hagowanen's  lodge,  bringing  a  basket  <d'  mai'i'iage  liread,  and  say- 
ing. "  My  mother  has  sent  me  to  Hagowanen  to  ask  him  to  take  me  to 
wife."  Hagowanen  hung  his  head  a  while  thinking,  and  mused.  "I 
suppose  nothing  ill-starred  will  lome  of  this."  Then,  hioking  at  her, 
he  said,  "It  is  well:  I  am  willing  to  do  what  your  mother  wants  me 
to  do.'"  On  hearing  this  reply  the  woman  was  glad.  She  placed  the 
basket  of  nuptial  corn  broad  before  hinj.  In  accei>ting  it  he  said: 
"  I  am  thankful.  Foi'  many  years  I  ha\ e  iu)t  ta,sted  bread  which  was 
made  by  a  woman."'  So  he  ate  some  of  the  bread,  whereupon  they 
became  husband  and  wife. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  year  the  Ilongak  woman  bore  a  son  to 
Hagowanen,  and  so  she  did  every  year  until  at  last  they  had  ten 
sons,  whom  they  named  in  their  ortler  from  the  eldest  to  the  youngest, 
as  follows:  (a)  Tgwendahcnh  Niononeodcn ;  ^^-  (b)  Hononhwaes;  (c) 
Haniodaqses;  {d)  Hagondes;  (e)  Dahsihdes;  (/)  Dahsinongwadon ; 
{(/)  I)ahe(ides;  (A)  Oeqdowanen ;  (i)  Donoengwenhdcn ;  and  (_/) 
(Jt'hegwenhda. 

They  lixed  together  for  some  time  at  Hetgen  Tgastende,  until  one 
moining  when  Hagowanen.  who  was  sitting  on  a  stone  outside  the 
lodge  with  drooping  head.  sai<l  to  himself:  ''Well,  I  have  many 
children  now.  I  did  not  think  that  woman  would  have  so  many.  I 
must  go  home  again.""  .So  he  rose,  and  going  aboard  his  canoe,  sailed 
away  across  (ianyodaeowanen  ("The  Hig  Lake'").  After  a  while 
his  wife,  missing  him,  said,"  Where  is  my  hu.sband?"  She  looked  out 
and  around  everywhei'e  hut  could  not  find  him.  The  eldest  son  was 
then  a  youth  and  the  youngest  a  lively  little  boy. 


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

One  day  the  eldest  said,  ''  I  am  going  to  look  for  my  father,  and 
see  where  he  is."  The  mother  rejoined,  "  You  will  get  lost  on  the 
way."  "  Oh,  no  !  I  will  not  get  lost,"  he  replied.  At  this  the  mother 
continued,  "  Then  you  may  go."  So  he  set  out,  traveling  northward. 
While  going  across  a  rocky  place  he  found  a  trail.  "This  k>oks  just 
like  my  father's  trail,"  said  he,  following  it.  Soon  he  came  to  a 
cross-trail,  and  after  examining  it,  he  said:  "I  wonder  where  this 
path  comes  from  and  where  it  goes.  Well,  ^Yhen  I  return.  I  shall 
find  out."  Not  far  from  the  cross-trail  he  came  to  a  lodge,  and  as 
the  trail  led  up  to  it,  he  entered.  Looking  around,  he  saw  an  old 
man  in  the  southeast  corner  of  the  room;  another  in  the  southwest; 
a  third,  in  the  northwest;  and  a  fourth,  in  the  northeast.  All  sat 
smoking.  The  youth  looked  for  his  father,  saying,  "  He  must  be 
here  somewhere."  The  hrst  old  man,  raising  his  head,  looked  at 
him  and  asked:  "Well,  my  grandson,  what  are  you  doing  here? 
Come  this  way,  if  you  want  to  see  your  father.  I  will  show  him  to 
you;  he  is  right  here."  On  the  youth  approaching,  the  old  man  took 
him  by  the  hair,  and  bending  his  head  forward  over  a  baik  bowl, 
cut  it  off,  saying:  "I  am  glad  that  a  young  game  animal  has  come. 
It  must  be  good  eating,  as  it  is  just  the  right  age."  So  saying,  he 
began  to  quarter  the  body. 

After  the  people  at  Hetgen  Tgastende  had  waited  for  some  time 
without  tidings  of  the  eldest  brother,  Hononhwaes,  the  second  son  of 
the  Hongak  woman,  said,  "  I  want  to  follow  my  elder  brother."  "  Oh, 
my  son !  "  said  the  mother,  "  do  not  go  away ;  something  evil  has 
befallen  your  brother."  "I  must  go,"  said  the  boy;  "I  can  not 
resist  the  desire.  I  must  see  my  brother  and  father."  So  he  began 
to  prepare  for  the  journey,  putting  on  a  hunting  shirt,  leggings,  and 
moccasins  of  buckskin,  and  taking  his  bow  and  arrows.  His  mother 
cried  all  the  time,  but  she  could  not  stop  him  from  going.  He  went 
northward,  as  his  brother  had  done,  going  over  the  same  trail,  until 
he  arrived  at  the  cross-trail  and  the  lodge,  where  he  saw  the  four 
old  men  smoking  in  the  four  corners  of  the  room.  He  of  the  north- 
west corner  spoke,  saying,  '"  My  grandson,  do  you  want  to  see  your 
father?  Come  here  and  you  shall  see  him."  He  went  forward  and, 
looking  into  a  large  bark  bowl  half  full  of  water,  he  saw  the  faces 
of  his  father  and  brother.  As  he  was  gazing  on  them,  the  old  man 
cut  off  his  head  also,  rejoicing  as  before. 

Nine  of  the  Hongak  brothers  went,  one  after  another,  in  search 
of  their  father  and  brothei's,  and  all  were  killed  by  the  four  old  men 
in  the  same  lodge.  At  last  the  tenth  and  youngest,  Othegwenhda, 
who  was  still  small  and  young,  said  to  his  mother,  "  I  should  like  to 
follow  my  brothers."  "  Oh,  my  son !  "  said  the  mother,  "  you  must 
not  go.  There  are  four  brothers,  old  men,  li\  ing  on  the  road,  who 
are     called     Hadiiades     (Blacksnakes).     They     have     great     magic 


?,kw,tt;]  legkxds  379 

power."'  "But."  said  he.  ''I  must  jio.  I  want  to  see  my  hrotliers 
vei'v  imich.""  ■"  ^ Ou  will  never  see  tliem,"  she  rei)lied.  "They  are 
dead."  '"  ^A'eil.  can  not  I  kill  the  old  men  T"  he  said.  "•Maybe  you 
can."  she  re|)lietl.  "if  you  taUe  my  orenda  (majiic  power)  with 
you."  "Well,  mother."  said  Ot'hi  uweidula.  "jiive  me  youi-  ma<j;io 
power.  I  want  to  kill  these  men."  "  I  will  <ro  and  brinf?  my  magic 
power,  my  .son. "  said  his  mother.  'J"hereui)on  the  lloncak  woman 
went  westward  to  a  rough  and  roiky  place,  where  she  got  a  small  fig- 
urine of  slate  rock,  about  hall'  the  length  of  her  little  finger,  with 
which  she  returned  to  her  liome.  AVhen  she  had  reached  home  the 
boy  was  ready  to  start.  He  had  armed  himself  w  ith  a  bow  of  hickory 
and  arrows  of  red  willow  pointeil  with  was])  stings.  "Here.""  said 
the  mother,  "  I  will  tell  you  what  to  do.  (lii'd  on  a  belt  and  put  this 
fetish  in  it."'  He  placed  the  fetish  between  his  buckskin  belt  and  his 
body.  "  You  are  now  ready,"  said  the  mother.  "  Now  you  can  do 
what  you  like.  You  can  change  yourself  to  whatever  form  you 
please."' 

( )fhegwenhda.  going  northward  as  his  brothers  had  done,  foimd  a 
fresh  trail  looking  as  if  made  only  a  few  minutes  befoi-e.  "'J'his 
nnist  be  my  father"s  trail."  thought  he;  "perhaps  I  will  find  him 
somewhere."  After  a  while  he  came  to  the  cross-trail  running  east 
and  west;  lie  stood  thinking  whence  it  came  and  whither  it  led.  "I 
will  sec."  said  he.  (xoing  toward  the  east,  he  soon  reached  a  wide 
opening  in  the  forest,  near  the  end  of  which  was  a  cloud  of  tlust  mov- 
ing in  his  direction.  "  I  will  hurry  back.""  thought  he.  "  or  something 
may  hajipen  to  me."  The  moment  he  turned  back  the  great  dust 
cloud  approached  ^erv  quickly,  and  when  it  touched  him,  from  weak- 
ness he  fell  to  the  groimd.  Soon  after  this  he  heard  a  noise,  and. 
looking  up.  saw  a  pei'son  with  long  legs,  i-ushing  on  toward  him. 
Si)ringing  to  his  feet,  the  youth  climlied  a  tree:  and  then  he  shot  his 
wasp-sting  pointed  arrows,  thus  killing  the  str-anger  in  the  cloud  of 
dust.    This  stranger  was  a  Djieien  (Spider). 

Now  Otiiegwenhda  went  eastward  again,  and  another  cloud  of  dust 
rushed  against  him.  but  he  got  outside  of  it.  and  after  the  cloud  had 
passed,  he  hastened  westward  to  the  iM)int  where  the  trails  crossed. 
Thence,  going  northward,  he  soon  readied  the  lodge  where  the  four 
old  brothers,  Hadiiades  (Blacksnakes).  sat  smoking.  After  staiul- 
ing  outside  a  while,  he  found  a  crack  in  the  lodge:  peeping  in.  he 
saw  the  four  old  men  in  the  four  corners,  at  which  he  soliloipiized  : 
"I  wonder  whether  these  are  the  men  of  whom  my  mother  sjioke.  1 
will  kill  them  if  I  can.  and  if  I  can  not.  I  will  burn  the  lodge."  Tak- 
ing out  the  fetish,  he  placed  it  on  his  head,  whereupon  it  stood  up, 
and  he  said, "  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  (piestion ;  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
what  to  do:  I  want  to  kill  these  old  men."'  The  fetish  answered: 
"If  you  want  to  kill  them. you  must  get  on  that  high  rock  and  call 


380  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  (eth.  ANN.  32 

out,  'I,  Ot'hegwenhda,  am  on  this  high  rock.'  You  will  find  very 
sharp  flint  stones  up  there:  take  a  handful  of  these  and  throw  them 
this  way,  saying,  'I  want  it  to  be  hot.'  This  is  your  only  course  to 
succeed."  As  Ot'iiegwenhda  put  back  the  fetish  in  his  belt,  he  heard 
the  old  men  talking.  "  It  seems  Ot'hegwenhda  is  about  here,''  said 
the  old  man  in  the  northwest  coi'ner  to  the  one  in  the  southeast. 
"  Oh !  "  replied  the  other,  "  I  thought  you  said  all  that  family  were 
killed."  Then  the  old  man  in  the  southwest  remarked,  "  It  was  my 
opinion  that  one  was  left."  "Well,  I  think  they  are  all  gone 
except  the  old  woman  Hongak,"  said  the  old  man  in  the  northeast. 
"Well,"  added  the  old  man  in  the  northwest,  "it  seems  to  me  that 
Ot'hegwenhda  is  lurking  around  here  somewhere."  "  If  you  think 
so,  you  should  look  for  him,"  replied  the  old  man  of  the  southwest. 
"Yes,  I  must  look  to  see  if  I  can  find  him,"  I'ejoined  the  man  of  the 
northwest.  Ot'hegwenhda,  leaping  on  the  lodge,  sat  with  his  feet 
hanging  through  the  smoke-hole.  The  old  man  looked  everywhere 
but  could  not  see  him. 

Ot'hegwenhda  with  his  bow  and  arrows  now  shot  down  through 
the  smoke-hole  at  each  of  the  four  old  men,  the  arrows  piercing 
their  bodies  deeply,  but  the  old  men  were  not  hurt ;  they  did  not  even 
know  that  they  were  hit.  Leaping  off  the  lodge  and  landing  about 
forty  rods  away,  Ot'hegwenhda  went  into  the  rock,  whence  he  called 
out,  "  My  name  is  Ot'hegwenhda."  As  he  stood  there  a  while  one  of 
the  old  men  said :  "  My  back  is  soi-e.  It  feels  as  though  my  bones 
were  broken."  Picking  up  a  handful  of  sharp  fragments  of  flint, 
Ot'hegwenhda  threw  them  at  the  lodge,  saying,  "  I  want  you  to  be  red 
hot  and  burn  up  these  old  men  and  their  lodge."  The  flint  went 
straight  to  the  lodge,  a  few  pieces  flying  beyond.  Those  that  struck 
the  lodge  set  it  on  fire,  and  those  that  fell  beyond  set  the  forest  on  fire. 
Everytliing  was  blazing  in  and  aroimd  the  lodge.  Then  the  boy  threw 
another  handful  of  flints,  saying.  ''I  want  you  to  cut  these  old  men's 
heads  off."  whereupon  the  flints  pierced  their  necks,  causing  their 
heads  to  fall  off. 

Ot'hegwenhda  stood  on  the  rock,  watching  the  fire  burn  until 
nothing  but  coals  remained.  Suddenly  he  heai'd  an  explosion — a 
Dagwanoenyent  flew  toward  him,  knocking  him  off  the  rock;  then 
rising  high  in  the  air,  it  went  straight  west.  Quickly  springing  to 
his  feet  and  looking  up,  the  boy  saw  the  Dagwanoenyent  going  higher 
and  higher.  Soon  he  heard  a  crash  as  it  struck  the  Blue  (Sky),'^^ 
after  which  it  came  rushing  down  again,  soon  reaching  the  earth. 
Thereupon  the  youth  crushed  its  head  with  a  white  flint. 

Ot'hegwenhda  now  searched  all  through  the  coals  with  a  pointed 
stick,  but  he  found  nothing  but  fire.  At  the  northwestern  corner  of 
the  burnt  heap  he  found  a  trail  leading  toward  the  northwest,  and 
following  this,  he  came  to  an  opening  in  the  forest  where  he  saw  a 


•i^l^^  LEGENDS  381 

cloud  of  dust  rushing  toward  hiui.  S\vt'rvin<r  aside  into  the  woods, 
he  peei)ed  out  from  some  sheiterin<r  shrubbery ;  presently  the  cloud 
stopped  at  the  edge  of  the  woods.  Tlien  he  saw  a  Djieien  (Spider) 
C)  feet  tall.  "Oh!  I  thougiit,"  said  Djieien,  "somebody  was  on  the 
trail.  It  must  be  my  master  fooling  me.  I  thougiit  he  was  here  and 
had  found  some  more  of  the  IhmgaU  family."  The  Djieien,  turning 
back,  ran  as  fast  as  he  could,  Otiiegwenhda  following  closely  until 
Djieien  reached  the  lodge,  wjiicli  was  slightly  sunken  into  the 
ground.  When  the  Djieien  went  into  tiic  lodge  Ot'hegwenhda 
listened  outside.  Soon  lie  heard  crying  within  and  tliought  tiuit  the 
sound  resembled  that  of  his  father's  voice,  and  that  his  father  must 
be  in  there.  Then  he  took  out  the  fetish,  which  came  to  life,  and 
stood  up:  he  asked  of  it,"  How  am  1  to  kill  the  Djieien  who  lives 
in  here^  "  The  fetish  answered:  "  (io  to  that  tree  just  west  of  here, 
and  climbing  high  upon  it.  call  out.  '  I  am  Ot'hegwenhda.  and  more 
powerful  than  anything  under  the  Rhu»  (Sky).  I  can  kill  any  kind 
of  game  (gnnyo)  on  earth.'  When  you  have  spoken,  cut  a  limb  from 
the  tree  and  throw  it  with  the  command  to  split  the  Spider's  heart 
in  two  (the  heart  was  in  tlie  ground  under  the  lodge).  A\']ien 
Djieien  is  killed,  you  can  come  (h)wn  and  see  your  father  before 
burning  the  lodge."  Ot'hegwenhda  did  as  directed  by  the  fetish.  He 
cut  oft'  a  limb  of  the  tree,  and  spat  on  it:  straightway  it  iiecame 
alive,  and  he  cast  it  toward  the  lodge,  saying,  "  Split  Djieien's  heart 
in  two."  The  limb  went  undci-  the  lodge  to  the  place  where  the 
heart  was  hidden,  and  the  instant  its  heart  was  split  Djieien 
stretched  out,  saying,  "  This  is  the  end  of  me,"  and  died.  The  boy 
heai-d  the  words  and  laughed.  Then  lie  sli])ped  down,  and  entering 
the  lodge,  said:  "I  must  go  in  to  see  my  father.  I  heaid  him  cry. 
so  he  must  be  inside."  So  saying,  lie  went  in.  There  Djieien  lay 
dead  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Under  the  couch  was  someone 
nearly  dead.  On  raising  the  couch,  he  found  his  father  in  a  dying 
ccmdition  with  tlie  flesli  gone  from  his  legs  and  arms.  Ofhegwenhda 
e.xclaimed.  "Oh.  my  father!  you  must  go  home:  my  mother  wishes 
to  see  you."  Ilagowanen  whispered  (he  had  lost  his  voice),  "  My  son. 
you  will  die  if  you  come  in  hei-e."  "Oh.  no!"  answered  the  boy: 
"theie  is  no  danger  now."  Putting  the  fetish  on  his  hand,  he  asked 
it,  ""What  .shall  be  done  with  my  father?"  The  fetish  answered: 
"  He  is  only  a  skeleton  now.  Spit  on  your  hands  and  rub  the  spittle 
all  over  him,  and  flesh  shall  come  on  his  bones  again."  Ot'hegwenhda 
did  this,  and  his  father  became  as  well  as  ever,  whereupon  he  said: 
"  Now,  I  have  become  S'iiodieonskon.  I  have  heard  old  people  .say 
that  when  S'hodieonskon  dies  he  comes  to  life  again  immediately." 
The  boy  laughed,  and  Hngowanen  added,  "Let  us  go  home."  "  Vou 
go,  but  I  must  find  my  brotiiers,"  replied  the  youth. 


382  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ETH.  AKN.  32 

When  Hagowanen  reached  home,  his  wife,  looking  at  him.  began 
to  cry:  "Oh!  my  dear  son,  I  wish  you  were  here.  I  think  I  have 
seen  something  mysterious."  Hagowanen  asked,  "  Why  do  you 
talk  so?"  She  cried  the  more,  and  he  added:  ''Why  do  you  cry? 
Are  you  sorry  that  I  have  returned?  "  "  No,  but  you  are  not  alive," 
she  said.  "  Oh,  yes!  I  am."  he  replied.  "  No;  I  can  not  believe  that 
you  are,"  and,  thinking  he  was  a  ghost,  she  drove  him  out  to  the 
rocks,  where  he  .sat  down. 

After  his  father  had  gone  Ot'hegwenhda  burned  Djieien's  lodge. 
When  nothing  but  coals  were  left,  something  shot  up  out  of  them, 
and  flying  westward,  it  finally  alighted  on  the  plain,  becoming  a 
Dowisdowi  (Sandpiper).  "That  is  the  way  I  do.  and  that  is  why  I 
claimed.  '  I  can  kill  anyl)ody.' "  said  the  boy.  Going  around  the 
edge  of  the  clearing  on  the  eastern  side,  he  found  a  bix)ad  trail  on 
which  he  traveled  for  half  a  day,  until  he  came  to  a  cross-trail  lead- 
ing from  north  to  south.  He  stood  at  the  four  corners  made  by  the 
trails,  and  putting  the  fetish  on  his  hand  said.  "  You  are  the  one 
I  need."  "  What  do  you  wi.sh  ?  "  asked  the  fetish.  "  I  wish  you  to 
tell  me  what  I  am  to  do  now."  "  If  you  go  to  the  foot  of  that  pine 
tree."  answered  the  fetish.  "  you  shall  find  a  bark  bowl,  beyond  the 
tree  a  medicine  spring,  on  the  other  side  of  the  spring,  a  plant.  Dig 
up  this  plant,  put  it  into  the  bowl,  which  you  shall  fill  with  water 
from  the  spring,  and  then  at  this  spot  where  the  trails  inter.sect.  dig 
a  hole,  and  in  it  put  the  bowl  with  the  plant  standing  in  the  water. 
This  done,  step  aside  and  see  what  will  happen.  Now.  be  quick!" 
Hurrying  to  the  pine  tree  which  grew  in  the  northwest  between  the 
northern  and  western  trails,  Ot'hegwenhda  found  the  spring,  and 
farther  on.  the  plant  aweaundagon  (in  full  bloom),  with  bright  red 
blossoms.  He  did  as  directed,  putting  the  bowl  with  the  plant 
therein  in  the  groimd  at  the  crossing  of  the  trails;  then  stepping 
aside,  he  watched  and  listened.  Presently  he  heard  a  noise  in  the 
forest  like  that  made  by  a  heavy  wind  from  the  north.  Nearer 
and  nearer  it  came,  accompanied  with  a  great  cloud  of  dust.  Noth- 
ing could  be  di.^tinguished  until  the  cloud  stopped  at  the  crossing. 
Then,  in  the  middle  of  the  cloud  he  saw  the  skeleton  of  Djainosgowa 
standing  near  the  bowl.  The  skeleton,  walking  up  to  the  plant,  ate 
one  of  its  red  blossoms.  Though  it  had  no  stomach,  no  place  to  hide 
the  blossom,  it  nevertheless  vanished,  at  which  the  l)oy  wondered 
greatly,  saj'ing :  "  It  is  nothing  but  bones.  Where  does  the  food 
go?"  Presently,  the  skeleton  growing  sick,  jumped  around  until  it 
fell  to  pieces — arms,  legs.  head.  ribs,  all  the  bones  falling  apart. 
Now  Ot'hegwenhda  laughed,  standing  in  his  hiding  place.  But  be- 
fore he  had  stopped  laughing  he  heard  tlie  rushing  of  another  wind 
from  the  south;  after  it  came  a  cloud  of  dust,  which  stopped  at  the 


Kwm]  LEGEXDS  383 


crossing);,  aiul  lie  saw  tlic  skeleton  oi'  Tso(li(|fr\va(lon  near  tlie  howl. 
This  also,  goiii^  straiij;ht  to  the  plant,  ate  a  blossom.  In  a  moment 
it  began  to  shake  all  over;  soon  it  fell  to  pieces,  becoming  a  jiile  of 
bones.  Soon  the  soniul  of  a  thii-tl  wind  was  heard  approaching  from 
the  east  with  a  great  cloud  of  dust.  This  came  rushing  on  until  it 
stopped  at  the  crossing.  In  the  middle  af  the  cloud  was  the  skeleton 
of  Ganiagwaihegowa.  which  ate  a  blossom,  after  doing  which  it  began 
to  tremble  and  to  liecome  disjointed  until,  finally,  it  was  a  mere  heap 
of  bones,  like  the  other  three. 

Taking  out  the  fetish  again,  Ot'hegwenhda  asked  it.  "Is  the  woi'k 
all  finished  now?"  ''Yes.''  said  the  fetish:  "all  the  trails  are  clear. 
Now  you  can  go  to  the  end  of  the  southei'ii  trail.  Perhaps  you  may 
find  your  brother  thei'c.  If  you  do.  treat  him  as  you  did  your  father." 
Immc<liately  he  started  towai-d  the  south.  When  he  reached  the  end 
of  the  trail,  he  could  see  nothing:  but  he  searclied  until  at  last  he 
fouiid  a  rock  with  an  opening  in  it.  Entering  this  opening,  he  went 
down  into  the  ground,  looking  arotmd  very  closely.  It  was  dark,  and 
he  thought.  "There  may  be  more  skeletons  hei-e.  but  I  must  go  on." 
.\t  last  he  came  to  a  room.  There  was  no  fire  in  it:  only  i)lenty  of 
light.  lie  saw  also  anollicr  room,  on  entering  which  he  found  three 
of  his  brothers — the  eldest  ami  the  two  next  to  him.  The  eldest 
called  out:  "Oh.  my  brother!  are  you  here?  '\'ou  would  better  lun 
away.  The  skeleton  will  come  soon."  "Oh!  I  will  kill  it."  he  said. 
"My  brothel-.  I  <lo  not  think  you  can  live  if  you  stay  here."  the  elder 
bi-other  continued.  "I  have  come  to  take  you  away."  answered 
Ofhegwenhda.  "We  can  not  walk."  answered  the  thi'ce  brothers: 
"the  skeleton  has  eaten  our  flesh."  On  looking  at  them,  he  saw  that 
their  limbs  were  bare  oones.  Aftei-  he  had  I'ubbed  them  with  his 
s]iittle.  they  were  covered  with  fiesh  as  before,  and  his  brothers  were 
well  and  strong  again.  Thereui)oi'  he  said:  ''I  want  you  to  start 
liome  now.     I  will  go  to  find  our  other  brofhei's." 

The  thre(>  iii-others  now  went  home.  When  their  motlu'r  saw  them, 
she  began  to  cry.  thinking  they  were  ghosts,  and.  seizing  a  club,  she 
drove  them  out.  They  found  their  father,  who  was  very  glad  to 
see  them,  and  they  sat  down  on  the  rocks  with  him. 

Ofhigwcnhda.  now  returning  to  the  crossing,  went  along  the  eastern 
trail  to  the  end.  There  he  saw  nothing  and  wondered  whence  (rania- 
gwaihegowa  came.  \t  last  he  noticed  an  ojiening  in  the  ground,  aiul, 
entering  it.  he  went  down.  It  was  \(>!'v  darl<  within.  ''There  must 
be  a  skeleton  here."  thought  he.  looking  around,  (ioing  fai-fher.  he 
came  to  a  room  in  which  w:is  abundant  light  from  rotten  wood  all 
around.  Farther  on  .le  came  to  a  .second  room,  in  which  were  three 
of  his  brothers  too  weak  to  move,  all  their  flesli  having  been  eaten 
away.    Having  brought  flesh  to  their  limbs  by  means  of  his  spittle,  he 


384  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [kth.  ANN.  32 

sent  tliein  home.  Their  mother,  thinking  that  they  were  ghosts,  cried ; 
then  she  drove  them  out  to  the  rocks,  where  they  found  their  father 
and  brotliers. 

Ot'hegwenhda  now  went  along  the  northern  trail  until  he  came  to 
a  small  opening,  where  he  stopped  a  moment.  At  tliis  time  a  whii-1- 
wind  came  straight  upon  him,  causing  him  to  run  to  the  shelter  of 
a  great  maple  tree  near  by.  In  a  short  time  he  heard  the  sound  of  a 
blow  on  the  other  side  of  the  tree.  Looking  toward  the  s]iot.  he 
saw  an  Onwi  (Winged  Snake)  lying  dead,  for  coming  in  the  whirl- 
wind, it  had  struck  the  tree  and  in  this  way  had  been  killed.  The 
boy  now  went  to  the  edge  of  the  opening,  where  he  heard  the  noise 
caused  by  a  second  great  whirlwind.  "I  shall  die  this  time  surely," 
thought  he,  as  he  saw  a  multitude  of  winged  snakes  borne  by  the 
whirlwind.  Again  as  he  stood  behind  a  tree,  they  rushed  far  beyond. 
Thereupon  he  ran  to  the  other  side  of  the  opening.  Presently  the 
whirlwind  of  snakes  ^^*  came  back ;  this  time  he  lay  down  on  the  roots, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  tree,  until  the  snakes  rushed  by  and  far 
away.  Now.  putting  the  fetish  on  his  hand,  it  stood  up  alive;  he 
asked,  "What  am  I  to  do  with  these  snakes  that  are  chasing  me?" 
"  ()h  !  make  a  large  fire  across  their  trail."  was  the  reply.  Gathering 
boughs  and  sticks  into  a  great  pile,  he  set  fire  to  the  western  end  of 
it,  saying  to  the  wind,  "(Jh,  my  grandfather!  send  a  breeze  on  the 
western  end  of  this  pile."  His  grandfather  heard  him,  and  soon  there 
was  a  miglity  fire.  When  well  kindled,  he  said.  "Let  the  breeze  be 
still."  Immediately  it  died  out.  Very  soon  the  snakes  came  on 
again  in  the  whirlwind,  and  rushing  into  the  fire,  every  one  was 
killed. 

Now  free,  Ot'hegwenhda  hurried  along  the  northern  trail  again 
until  he  came  to  a  second  one  leading  toward  the  noitheast.  Once 
more  taking  out  the  fetish,  he  asked,  "Which  way  shall  I  go?" 
"North,"  was  the  answer.  So  he  went  on.  Soon  he  saw  a  trail 
going  toward  the  northwest,  but  he  kept  straight  on  his  own  trail 
to  the  end.  At  first  he  saw  nothing  there,  but  after  a  long  search  he 
found  an  opening  near  a  birch  tree  which  stood  at  the  end  of  tlie 
trail.  On  entering,  he  came  to  a  room  in  which  an  old  man  sat 
smoking.  "  What  can  that  old  man  be  doing,"  thought  he.  Pres- 
ently the  old  man  straightened  up,  saying:  "  I  am  weak  this  morning. 
It  seems  to  me  somebody  is  around  here.  I  thought  the  man  who 
guarded  the  opening  said  the  Hongak  family  were  all  dead."  Rais- 
ing his  head,  the  old  man  looked,  and  as  he  looked,  his  eyes  seemed 
to  stand  out  from  his  head.  At  length  he  saw  the  boy,  to  whom  lie 
said :  "  My  nephew,  I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  visit  me.  I  am 
going  to  try  whetiier  I  can  find  what  luck  (or  orenda)  you  have.  So 
saying,  he  shook  a  rattle  made  of  Dagwanoenyent,  saying  .sdw/i. 


h'ewi'ttJ  legends  385 

"  No,"  said  Ot'honfwenlida,  "  I  will  try  your  orenda  or  magic  power. ' 
■'Oh,  no!  I  will  try  tirst,""  said  the  old  man.  wliose  name  was  De- 
waqsent'hwiis  (Flea).  Thereupon  they  disputed  until  they  came  to 
blows.  Throwing;  down  tiic  rattle,  the  old  man  struck  the  boy  with 
one  hand.  Immediately  the  old  mans  arm  fell  oil':  he  struck  with 
tiie  other  hand,  whereui)on  the  other  ai'ui  fell  oil'.  Then  he  kickeil 
at  the  youth  with  one  leg,  and  that  broke  off;  he  kicked  with  the 
other  lesj;,  which  likewise  dropped  oil'.  'I'he  old  man  was  now 
merely  head  and  body,  'llie  arms  and  the  le<rs  tiled  to  get  back  into 
their  jdaces,  but  Otiiegwenhda  rushed  around  to  push  them  away, 
and  shot  an  arrow  through  the  old  man.  Immediately  the  arrow, 
taking  root,  became  a  small  tree.  Though  fastened  to  tlie  eaith.  tb.e 
old  man  tried  to  bite  Ot'hegwenhda.  but  the  moment  he  did  so,  his 
head  flew  oil'.  The  boy  pountled  the  body  to  bits.  Jumping  and 
dancing  around,  he  said,  "Oh!  my  uncle  is  all  in  pieces."  In  the 
old  man's  lodge  he  found  a  second  room,  in  which  were  the  last 
three  of  his  brothers,  who  were  as  weak  and  wretched  as  were  the 
others.  These  he  cured  in  like  niainier  and  sent  home.  Their  mother 
drove  them  out  of  the  lodge,  whence  they  went  and  sat  down  on  the 
rocks  with  their  father  and  six  brotluus. 

After  his  brothers  had  gone  home  Ot'hegwenhda.  taking  out  the 
fetish,  asked  it,  '*  Is  there  anything  on  the  northeastern  trails'  "  Not 
much.  Still  you  will  sa\e  some  people,  if  you  go  there,"  was  the 
reply.  "Is  there  trouble  in  the  northwest?"  the  youth,  asked.  "  Yes; 
but  not  very  much,"  was  the  answer.  Keeping  on  to  the  end  of  the 
northwestern  trail,  Ot'hegwenhda  fount!  a  loilge  without  a  door,  at 
which  he  thought,  "  IIow  can  I  get  into  this  hxige  V  Peeping  Ibi'ough 
a  crack,  he  saw  within  an  old  woman  of  the  Onweaunt  people,  who 
was  singing,  "Ot'hegwenhda  is  coming,  Ot'hegwenhda  is  coming." 
"Well,  she  knows  I  am  here,"  thought  the  boy.  Presently,  saying, 
"I  will  go  out  and  play,"  she  went  into  a  small  but  very  deep  lake, 
c-alled  Dyunyudenodes,  also  Dedyoend jongo(]den.-''^  going  way  down 
into  the  watei-.  .Vftei'  a  while  her  tail  ai)iieared  moving  around  in 
a  circle  on  the  water.  As  the  lake  was  very  small  she  was  near  the 
shore.  The  boy  saw  on  the  tail  two  snudl  objects  like  fins,  which  in 
rubbing  against  each  other  made  music.  After  lh(>  old  woman  had 
played  a  while,  she  stsirted  to  come  out.  Seeing  the  boy,  she  said, 
"My  grandson,  do  not  kill  me:  I  never  killed  any  of  your  j^eople." 
"If  you  give  me  something,  1  won't  kill  you,'"  answered  the  boy. 
"Well,  I  will  give  you  one  of  these  points  on  my  tail;"  and  taking 
off  one,  she  said,  "Keep  this;  it  is  good  to  find  out  your  luck  with." 
"What  shall  I  do  when  I  want  to  use  it?"  asked  the  youth.  "Put 
it  under  your  head  when  you  go  to  sleej);  you  will  have  a  dream,  and 
the  dream  will  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know,"  she  replied. 
94Glo°— 18 25 


386  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  Ieth.  a.ns.  32 

Xow  the  boy  went  home  with  the  old  woman.  On  entering  her 
lodge  and  looking  around,  he  saw  an  opening  in  the  ground ;  going 
through  this,  he  found  a  great  many  people  almost  dead.  To  these 
he  said.  "My  friends,  I  have  come  to  help  you.  so  you  may  live  a 
little  longer."  Having  spat  on  his  hands,  \w  rubbed  each  one  of 
them,  whereupon  all  were  well  straightway,  and  went  out  into  the 
open  air.  He  asked  all  where  the}-  came  from  and  told  them  what 
direction  to  take  to  go  home.  One  said.  "  I  came  from  Hetgen 
Tgastende."  There  were  ten  with  him :  they  were  Donyonda  peo- 
ple. "  Go  toward  the  southwe.st  for  five  days.'"  the  youth  told  him. 
Another  said,  ''  We  came  from  (xawenogowanenne.;"  "  Go  west 
ward  five  days'  journey,"  he  ordered.  Twenty  followed  him:  they 
were  Teqdoon  people.  A  third  person  said,  "We  came  from  Dyoenh- 
danodes;"  these  were  Dihdih  pcople.^^'^  "Go  toward  the  nortlieast," 
he  directed  them.  A  fourth  person  said,  "We  live  in  Dyonondaden- 
yQj^.33-  Q^j.  chiefs  name  is  Honigonowanen."  These  were  Djoq- 
gweani  ^^*  people.  Ot'hegwenhda  said :  "  I  must  go  to  pay  you  a  visit. 
You  have  twenty  days'  journey  before  you." 

All  went  home.  When  they  were  gone,  Ot'hegwenhda  went  back 
to  the  old  woman,  wiioni  he  asked.  "  Why  did  you  shut  up  these 
people '("  "I  did  not  shut  them  up,"  she  replied.  "  Well,  they  were 
in  your  lodge,"  he  continued.  "  Yes.  but  my  husband,  who  is  a 
man-eater,  did  it,"  she  responded.  "Does  he  live  here?  What  is 
his  name?  "  he  asked.  "  He  lives  on  anotlior  trail,"  she  replied:  "his 
name  is  Dewaiisent'hwus  (the  '\\'eeper,  or  Flea)."  The  boy.  laugh- 
ing, asked.  "Was  that  old  man  your  husband?  Oh  I  I  killed  him 
some  time  ago.''  "Are  j'ou  sure?"  "Yes."  he  said.  "  AVell.  tlien  I 
am  glad.  I  never  liked  him.  Your  people  are  safe  now,  for  you 
killed  the  man  who  always  hunted  them."  The  boy  said.  "  I  will  let 
3^ou  live  this  time,  but  I  will  kill  you  if  you  ever  chase  my  people." 

Ot'hegwenhda  now  went  on  the  northeastern  trail  until  he  came  to 
a  lodge  in  which  he  heard  singing  in  a  very  low  voice;  "The  young- 
est son  of  Hongak  is  going  all  over  the  world.  AVe  wish  he  would 
come  to  visit  us."  Then  the  song  ceased,  and  a  woman's  voice  said. 
"  I  feel  worse  this  morning."  "  Let  us  go  out  and  play  and  feel 
well,"  answered  the  man's  voice.  Coming  out.  with  the  boy  follow- 
ing them,  they  went  to  some  white  Hints  as  large  as  a  lodge.  Pick- 
ing up  one  of  these  stones,  the  woman  threw  it  into  the  air.  It  fell 
on  her  head  but  did  not  hurt  her  a  bit.  Then  she  threw  it  to  the 
man  who.  luning  caught  it.  threw  it  back.  Thus  they  played  some 
time  until  the  woman  said,  "Let  us  go  home."  "Very  well," 
answered  the  man.  Ot'hegwenhda  hurried  on  before  them.  After 
the}'  had  entered  the  lodge,  the  man  said :  "  It  seems  as  though  some 
one  were  here.  I  will  go  and  look  outside."  On  going  out  and 
finding  the  boy.  lie  said,  "My  grandson,  what  are  you  doing  here?  " 


J^.^J"^]  LEGENDS  387 

Tlie  yoiitli  replied.  "I  have  roiiie  just  to  visit  you."  "  (^ome  inside 
I  hen,"  was  the  response.  "  Ot'he<!;\venhda  has  come,"  said  the  man  to 
his  wife,  who  turned,  sayinji;:  ''My  grandson,  I  am  glad  you  have 
come.  AVe  have  !)(>en  waiting  for  a  long  time  to  see  you.  Now  we 
will  tell  yon  why  we  wish  you  to  be  ])owerful.  A\'e  know  that 
you  have  killed  tlie  man-eater,  Dewaqsent'hwus.  and  the  skeletons  ot 
Tsodicjirwadon  and  Ganiagwaihegowa.  Theie  are  many  people  under 
our  lodge  and  we  want  you  to  free  tiiem."  At  one  corner  of  the 
room  w:;s  an  opening  thi'ough  which  the  hoy  passed  into  a  second 
xcry  large  room,  in  which  lie  found  a  multitude  of  people  without' 
lic-li  and  almost  d(>ad.  lie  rnhlicd  tlicm  with  spittle,  thus  curing 
them,  after  which  he  lirouglit  tiieni  out.  "  Xow,"  said  he.  "von  are 
all  free  and  need  ha\'e  no  fui'tiier  feai',  for  the  evil  people  are  all 
dead."'  He  then  asked  all  whei-e  they  came  from.  One  party,  the 
Djoniaik  jieojile.  said  tiiey  came  fi'oin  Diogegas  he  Tgawenonde 
f  Hickory  Point).  "  You  go  southward  fifty  days."  he  told  them;  and 
they  went.  The  second  party,  the  (iaisgense  i)e<)|)le.  said  they  came 
fiDiu  (iendowane  (Givat  ^h'adow).  "Yon  go  toward  the  southeast." 
lie  told  them.  A  third  jiarty.  tlic  Djagwin  peofjle.  said  they  came 
from  Gahadowane  ((ireat  Kor(>st).  ""  \'on  go  toward  the  southeast." 
lie  told  tiiem.  A  fonith  party,  the  Ogi'iiliwan  ]ieo])le.  said  they  came 
fi-om  Diodonhwendjiagou  (Tiroken  Land).  .V  fiftii  jiarty.  the 
(i\va(|gwa  [M'ople,  said  they  came  fi'om  Th'lidoii  dvi'ioiidaicn  (.Tune- 
licriy  'l"i-ce  (ii'ove).  "(io  dii'ectly  westward  a  day  and  a  half."  was 
ihe  command.  .V  sixth  jiarty.  the  (inro'-'-'  people,  said  that  they  came 
from  Xitgendasedyea  (  Heyoiid  the  Xarrow  G])ening).  "  Voii  travel 
toward  the  sontii  i'wv  days"  journey.""  lie  said.  Three  were  left  w!io 
did  not  reniciniier  at  first  wliei-e  tiicv  came  from.  Then  they  said. 
■'  A\'e  think  that  tiie  old  ])eo])le  called  the  ]ilace  we  came  from  Stec]i 
()])cning."  "Then  you  go  iiortlicaslwaiil.""  said  llic  yfnith.  Ofiie- 
irw(>iilida  was  left  there  alone.  Tlii>  man  and  woman  who  jiad  lieen 
guarding  th(>  people  just  liheiated  now  thanked  him;  they.  too.  were 
llieu  free  fi-oiii  1  )ewa(|sciifh wus.  tlie  man-eatei'.  who,  being  master 
of  the  s]<elet(ins.  had  forced  them  all  to  work  for  him  in  capturing 
and  confining  ])cople  for  him  to  eat.  "Xow."  said  Ot'hcgwcnhda. 
"let  all  the  ti-ail<  disa|i|icar.  Trails  arc  not  to  be  made  across  the 
world  to  deceive  peojdc.""     'I'heieiipon  the  trails  all  vanished. 

'{"hen  the  youth  went  to  his  own  lodge,  where  he  found  his  father 
and  his  nine  brothers,  sitting  on  a  great  flat  stone.  "Oh  I  "  said  the 
vouth.  "  why  do  you  not  go  inside  where  my  mother  is?  "'  TIagowanen 
answered.  "Your  mother  drove  us  out."  Ot'hegwcnhda.  going  into 
the  lodge,  asked:  '■Muther.  what  ha\e  yon  done!"  .\re  you  .lot  glad 
that  I  brought  my  father  and  brothers  back?"  "Did  you  find  and 
bring  them  home?""  asked  his  mother.  "Yes.  I  did.""  he  I'cplied. 
Then  the  woman  was  sorrv.     She  invited  them  in.  and  tliev  came  intO' 


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

the  lodge  and  all  were  happj'.  After  he  had  been  home  a  while 
Ot'hegwenhda  said  to  his  family:  "I  must  visit  my  friends,  the 
Djoqgweani  in  Dionondadenion.  It  is  not  far  from  here,"  he  said. 
They  had  to  let  him  go  and  do  what  he  liked,  for  he  possessed  the 
most  potent  orenda. 

Ot'hegwenhda  soon  came  to  a  lake  called  Onj-udetdji  (Bough 
Lake).  Putting  on  the  water  a  piece  of  slate,  he  said.  "I  want  you 
to  take  me  across."'  Sitting  upon  the  slate,  it  carried  him  quickly 
over  the  water  to  the  other  side,  where  he  left  it,  saying:  "  Wait  here 
until  I  return.  Then  I  shall  need  your  help  again."  Soon  reaching 
Dionondadenion,  a  beautiful  country,  he  inquired  until  he  found  the 
chief's  lodge.  When  he  entered  he  saw  an  old  man,  to  whom  he  said: 
"  I  have  come  to  see  you."'  The  old  man  was  silent.  The  youth  spoke 
again,  but  received  no  answer.  "Why  do  you  not  speak ? "  thought  he. 
A  third  time  he  spoke,  whereupon  the  old  'man  replied,  "  Why  do 
you  not  hurry  and  eat  up  all  my  people?  "  "  I  have  never  killed  any 
of  your  people.  I  have  saved  many  of  them  from  Dewaqsent'hwus', 
and  I  thought  you  would  be  glad,"  said  the  youth.  "  Well,  there  is 
a  man  around  here  eating  up  all  my  people.  Pie  looks  like  you, 
though  he  is  an  old  man."'  "  I  came  to  help  you,"  said  Ot'hegwenhda. 
"  and  I  will  kill  this  man."  "  Well,  he  is  coming  now,"  said  Honi- 
goneowanen.  Presently  a  man  kicked  the  door  open  and  came  in, 
saying,  "■  I  have  come  to  see  you  a  few  moments."  His  mouth  was 
smeared  with  fresh  blood.  Ot'hegwenhda,  standing  up,  said :  "  I  have 
come  to  fight  with  you.  You  will  have  to  con(|uer  me  before  you  kill 
these  people."  "  Verj'  well.'"  said  the  man-eater,  whose  name  was 
Djiniondaqses;  ^*°  "come  out."  Thereupon  they  went  out,  and  they 
fought  until  night;  then  until  dawn.  Xext  morning  Ot'hegwenhda 
was  nothing  but  bones,  while  the  man-eater,  too,  had  lost  all  his 
flesh.  The  two  skeletons  fought  all  that  day,  and  when  night  came, 
their  bodies  were  broken  up,  nothing  being  left  but  the  two  skulls. 
The  skulls  fought  all  night,  and  when  daylight  came  the  skull  of 
Djiniondaqses  was  crushed  to  pieces.  The  skull  of  Ot'hegwenhda 
was  sound,  and  it  kept  on  rolling  over  the  ground  where  he  had 
fought.  As  it  rolled  around,  tlie  bones  of  his  body  began  to  reattacli 
themselves  to  it,  and  soon  the  skeleton  was  complete.  Then  the 
skeleton  rolled  in  the  blood  and  flesh  where  he  had  fought,  and 
straightway  the  flesh  and  blood  grew  to  it,  until  at  last  Ot'hegwenhda 
stood  up  sound  and  well  as  ever. 

When  Ot'hegwenhda  went  into  the  chief's  lodge,  Honigoneowa- 
nen  said :  "  I  am  very  glad  and  thank  you.  I  will  now  give  you  my 
daughter,  and  when  you  are  old  enough,  you  shall  marry  her.'"  Othe- 
gwenhda  took  the  chief's  daughter  to  Hetgen  Tgastende  and  they 
lived  there. 


i^l^  LEGENDS  389 

TO.  Okteondon  and  IlAiF.NT'jiwrs '*'    (tiik  Plantf.rs) 

Okteondon  was  a  youtii  who  lived  with  his  maternal  iiiu'le, 
Ilaiefifhwus,  in  an  arborlike  ]u(l<re  in  the  forest.  From  his  earliest 
babj'hood  Okteondon  lay  carefully  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  the 
people,  having  been  for  this  piirjio-se  securely  fastened  untler  the 
roots  of  a  large  tree,  around  which  his  uncle  had  erected  his  lodge.^^'" 
Olvteondon  had  now  reached  the  age  of  puberty. 

One  day  while  Haient'hwus  was  in  (lie  neighboring  lield  planting 
corn,  he  heard  his  nepliew  singing  in  a  loud  voice:  "'Now.  I  am 
rising.  Not\',  I  am  rising."  Dropping  his  planting-stick  and  shout- 
ing, "No,  my  nephew,  you  are  not  ready  yet;  you  are  in  too  great  a 
hurry,"  Haient'hwus  ran  himu'.  wiiere  he  found  tliat  Okteondon 
had  raised  his  head  by  partially  uprooting  and  overturning  tlie 
sheltering  tree.  Haient'hwus  tlieiefore  pushed  him  back  nito  iiis 
place,  admonishing  him,  "I  will  tell  you  when  it  is  time  for  you  to 
arise."' 

Tiie  next  day  Haienfiiwus  again  went  otit  to  plant  corn.  lie  had 
hardly  reached  the  field  when  he  heard  once  more  his  nephew  begin 
to  sing  and  to  strive  to  arise.  IlaiefUiiwus  at  once  started  I'oi-  the 
lodge,  rimning  with  so  much  haste  that  he  lost  on  the  way  all  his 
seed  corn  from  his  seeding  basket,  ^^'hen  he  reached  home  he  found 
the  tree  half  uprooted  and  leaning  far  over  to  one  side.  So  he  pushed 
his  nephew  back  into  his  place,  but  he  was  unable  to  reset  the  tree  as 
Hi  inly  or  as  nearly  upright  as  it  was  before. 

On  the  third  day  Haienfhwus  again  went  out  to  finish  his  coin 
planting,  but  the  moment  that  he. began  to  drop  the  grains  of  corn 
he  iieard  still  again  the  singing  of  his  nephew.  So  Ilaiefifhwus  with- 
out delay  rushed  back  to  the  lodge,  l)ut  while  running  he  heard  an 
awful  crash  and  crackling  of  limbs,  from  which  he  knew  tliat  the 
.tree  had  fallen,  ^\■!len  he  reached  the  lodge  he  found  Okteondon 
sitting  on  the  ground.  Ilaiefifhwus  did  not  return  to  the  lield  to 
complete  his  corn  planting,  but  remained  in  his  home  to  look  after 
his  ne]ihew  and  to  make  the  necessar\'  preparations  for  the  coming 
marriage  of  the  }otnig  man. 

Early  the  ne.xt  morning  they  heard  .soimds  outside  the  lodge,  and 
shortly  afterward  a  woman  and  a  beautiful  younger  woman,  who 
were  Wadi'oniondies,  entered  the  lodge.  One  of  the  women,  address- 
ing Okteondon.  said.  "T  have  come  purposely  to  take  you  home 
with  me."  "  It  is  well.  I  con.sent,"  answered  the  youth,  who  started 
at  once  to  cross  the  lodge  to  accompany  her  and  her  companion. 
But  Ilaiefifhwus  stopped  him  with  the  remark:  "You  must  not  go 
yet.  You  have  friends  who  are  coming  to  escort  you.  and  must  wait 
for  them."  Then  "The  Planter"  hastened  to  prepare  some  food  to 
eat,  and  for  this  purpose  placed  a  large  kettle  of  hominy  over  the 


390  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [kth.  ASN.32 

fire.  About  the  time  that  the  hominy  was  ready  three  young  men 
came  into  the  lodge,  who  were  invited  by  Haient'hwus  to  eat.  When 
Okteondon,  the  young  men,  and  I-ltiient'hwus  had  eaten  the  boiled 
hominy,  the  old  man  began  to  pack  some  garments  in  a  small 
bundle.  When  he  had  finished  his  parcel,  he  said  to  his  nephew, 
"  When  any  one  of  your  friends  is  in  need  of  things  such  as  these 
3'ou  will  find  tliem  in  this  parcel." 

Then  Okteondon,  after  putting  on  his  snowshoes,  instructed  his 
friends,  saying:  "You  must  follow  me,  and  in  doing  so  you  must 
step  in  my  tracks;"  then  he  started.     The  three  young  men  in  step- 
ping in  his  tracks  found  that  it  was  like  walking  on  solid  ground, 
although  the  eaith  was  covered  deep  with  snow.     Toward  evening 
they  came  to  a  place  where  they  saw  smoke  floating  like  clouds  among 
the  trees.    When  they  drew  near  to  an  opening  they  saw  a  number 
of  fires,  around  wiiich  were  four  young  women.    Thereupon  Okteon- 
don, addressing  his  companions,  said:  "We  will  stop  here  and  kindle 
our  fires  near  these  women."    When  their  fires  were  burning  briskly 
Okteondon,  going  up  to  the  four  young  women,  who  iiad  kettles  of 
homin}'  boiling  over  their  fires,  overturned  the  kettles  and  scattered 
the  fires  with  his  feet.    This  greatly  angered  the  women  except  the 
last,  who  was  the  youngest.    After  doing  this  Okteondon  returned  to 
his  friends,  and  remarking  that  he  was  going  out  to  hunt  for  fresh 
meat,  started  off  into  the  forest.    He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  came 
to  a   tree  on  which  he  saw   marks  made  by   the  claws  of   a   bear. 
Walking  up  to  the  tree  he  exclaimed :  "  Thou  who  art  in  this  tree, 
■come  forth."    In  a  moment  a  bear  came  forth,  which  he  killed;  after 
dressing  it  he  brought  the  meat  to  the  camp.     Then  he  said.  "T  am 
going  to  fetch  my  uncle's  kettle."  and  i^assing  around  a  big  tree 
standing  near  the  camp,  he  returned  with  a   large  kettle.     In-  this 
kettle  thev  i>laced  the  meat  to  cook  over  their  fire.     When  the  meat 
was  cooked  they  sat  down  and  ate  it.    After  they  were  through  eating- 
Okteondon  said :  "  Let  us  now  go  to  our  wives.    I  wish  you  to  follow 
my  advice,  too.    Take  none  of  this  meat  to  your  wives,  for  if  you  do 
we  .shall  have  bad  luck.     Some  misfortune  will  befall  us."     When 
they  reached  the  camp  of  the  young  women  they  found  that  the  latter 
had  hominy  coolced  and  were  cooling  it.    They  sat  with  their  backs 
turned    toward    the    men.      The   youngest   sister,   whom    Okteondon 
claimed  as  his  w  ife,  asked  him  to  come  over  and  eat  with  her.     The 
others  said   nothing.     Okteondon   ate.  but  the  other  men   did   not. 
That  niiiht  they  slept  with  the  women.    Ilot'hoh.""  one  of  the  three 
men  who  accompanied  Okteondon.  was  naked.     He  had  a  hole  slit 
throuich  the  skin  of  his  hip.  in  which  he  carried  his  war  club.     He 
chose  the  eldest  of  the  Wadi'oniondies ''"'■'  sisters,  and  Okteondon  the 
youngest.    The  women  kept  their  canoe  near  the  four  fires,  and  when 
they   undressed   they   placed   their  outdooi-   garments   in   the  canoe. 


Z!'",r;]  '         LEGENDS  391 

Thf  next  nioniiui!;  thv  iiieii  returned  to  tlieir  liies.  One  of  the  men. 
however,  had  lost  his  leggings  and  iiis  moccasins,  for  the  woman  with 
whom  he  had  slept  had  robbed  him  of  them.  The  sisters  warmed  up 
the  cold  hominy  for  their  breakfast,  antl  after  eating  it  went  aixiard 
iheir  canoes  and  sailed  away  through  the  air,  leaving  a  trail ""  therein. 
In  the  camp  of  the  men  Okteondon  opened  his  pouch  and,  talcing 
therefrom  a  [lair  of  leggings  and  a  pair  of  moccasins,  he  gave  tiieni 
to  the  man  who  had  been  robbed  of  his  own.  When  the  men  had 
prepareil  and  eaten  tlieir  breakfast,  and  had  made  the  necessai'V  j^ro- 
vision  for  their  journey,  they  started  olT,  following  tlie  trail  of  the 
canoe  of  the  women,  which  was  plainly  visible  in  the  air.  Toward 
evening  they  again  saw  smoke  in  the  distance  ahead.  When  yet 
some  distance  from  it  Okteondon  said:  ''We  will  encamp  here." 
Again  going  over  to  the  camp  of  the  women,  he  walked  through  their 
fires  and  upset  the  kettles  of  hominy.  Then  returning  to  his  own 
camp,  he  went  out  to  hunt,  in  order  to  get  meat  for  the  supper  of 
his  friends.  But  he  had  to  go  a  long  distance  before  finding  any- 
game,  for  the  woman  who  stole  the  foolish  man's  leggings  iiad 
stretched  them  out  over  the  country,  her  very  long  arms  describing  an 
imaginary  circle  with  them,  at  the  same  time  telling  the  game  ani- 
mals included  therein  to  go  outside  of  this  circle.  So  Okteondon 
had  to  do  likewise  before  he  could  find  a  bear.  Finally  he  killed 
one,  the  carcass  of  which  he  brought  into  camp.  When  he  returned 
to  camp  he  upbraided  his  three  companions  with  liie  words:  "You 
have  been  the  cause  of  my  being  tired  by  your  folly.  You  know 
that  I  foibade  you  taking  anything  to  the  women,  even  a  small  |)or- 
tion  of  meat.  But  you  failed  to  obey  my  advice,  and  I  luni'  tkav 
experienced  some  of  the  effects."  Procuring  a  kettle  in  the  same 
way  as  he  had  done  before,  Okteondon  then  proceeded  to  cook  the 
bear's  flesh.  When  it  was  done  he  and  his  companions  at<'  their 
evening  meal.  After  they  were  through  eating  they  went  oxer  to 
the  <'amp  of  tlie  women,  where  they  found  them  sitting  each  w  ith  a 
bark  dish  of  hot  hominy  on  her  knees,  which  she  was  cooling.  They 
sat  with  their  faces  turned  toward  home  and  with  theii-  backs  to- 
wai-d  the  camp  of  the  men.  The  youngest  of  the  sisters  asked  Ok- 
teondon to  eat  with  hei'.  Later,  separating  into  pairs,  they  all  went 
to  bed  together.  As  the  night  passed  Oktcohdon  grew  angi-ier  and 
angrier,  and  so  he  lay  awake.  At  last,  when  he  thought  that  all 
were  asleep,  he  said,  addressing  a  tall  tree  standing  near  the  canoe 
which  contained  the  clothes  of  the  women:  "I  want  you,  Tree,  to 
bend  down  to  me."  Thereupon  the  tree  bent  down  to  him  and  Ok- 
teondon placed  the  canoe  among  its  topmost  branches.  Then  he 
saul,  "Now  I  want  you  to  stand  upi-ight  again,"  and  the  Ti-ee  again 
resumed  its  erect  position.  lie  immediately  athled,  '"I  desire  vou, 
Tree,  to  be  covereil  with  ice,"  and  it  soon  so  hapi)ened.    Okteondon 


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

did  this  because  lie  was  angered  by  the  action  of  the  women  in  driv- 
ing the  game  away,  thus  causing  him  to  go  so  far  to  hunt  to  find 
the  bear  he  had  killed,  and  in  having  stolen  the  leggings  and  moc- 
casins of  one  of  his  companions. 

Early  the  next  morning  Okteondon  and  his  companions  returned 
to  their  camp  fires.  When  the  women  arose  they  could  not  find  the 
canoe  in  which  their  outdoor  garments  were  kept.  So  they  had  to 
run  around  from  place  to  place  naked,  trying  in  vain  to  find  them. 
At  last  they  discovered  the  canoe  in  the  top  of  the  tree;  whereupon 
the  eldest  of  the  sisters  said,  "  I  will  try  to  get  it  down.''  Moistening 
both  her  hands  and  feet  with  saliva,  which  she  rubbed  thoroughly 
into  them,  the  nails  on  her  fingers  and  toes  presently  grew  long 
and  powerful,  resembling  the  claws  of  a  bear.  Then  the  woman 
began  to  climb  the  tree.  She  succeeded  in  getting  halfway  up  the 
icy  trunk  when,  losing  her  grip,  she  slid  down,  her  powerful  nails 
tearing  the  ice  as  she  slipped,  until  she  struck  the  ground  in  a  sitting 
posture.  She  made  several  attempts  to  reach  the  canoe  but  each  time 
failed.  AH  the  sisters  talked  together  over  the  situation,  finally 
deciding  that  no  one  but  Okteondon  had  played  them  this  mean 
trick.  When  they  asked  him  about  it,  he  replied,  "  I  put  your  canoe 
on  the  tree  top  because  you  insulted  me  and  so  made  me  angry." 
The  women  all  promised  that  they  would  not  do  such  things  again 
if  he  would  get  the  canoe  for  them.  So,  relenting,  Okteondon  asked 
the  Tree  to  bend  down  a  second  time.  As  the  top  reached  the  ground, 
Okteondon  took  the  canoe  therefrom,  which  he  gave  back  to  the 
women.  They  were  then  able  to  dress  themselves.  After  doing  so, 
they  took  their  food  out  of  the  canoe,  and,  having  cooked  and  eaten 
their  morning  meal,  they  continued  their  journey  homeward  in  the 
canoe.  Shortly  the  four  men  followed  them,  keeping  the  trail  all 
day. 

Toward  evening  the  men  noticed  before  them  smoke  in  the  dis- 
tance. When  they  drew  near  it  they  saw  that  it  arose  from  the 
middle  of  a  great  lake  covered  with  smooth  ice.  The  four  sisters 
were  encamped  in  the  middle  of  this  lake,  and  Okteondon  told  his 
friends  that  he  would  make  ready  to  camp  on  the  ice,  too.  Gathering 
a  handful  of  dry  leaves  and  hemlock  boughs,  he  said  to  his  com- 
panions: "Be  cautious  and  follow  my  steps.  Be  sure  that  each  of 
3'ou  step  exactly  in  my  tracks."  When  near  the  camp  of  the  women 
Okteondon  remarked,  "  We  will  camp  here."  Laying  down  his  hand- 
ful of  wood,  it  at  once  increased  in  size,  becoming  a  great  pile,  where- 
upon he  said,  "I  want  a  fire  to  be  here";  and  there  was  there  imme- 
diately a  fire.  Then  he  scatt<>red  the  handful  of  hemlock  boughs  on 
one  side  of  the  fire,  saying,  "  In  this  place  shall  be  our  lodge  and 
beds,"  and  straightway  there  was  a  lodge,  and  within  were  beds  for 
every  one  present. 


•i^i^^  LEGENDS  393 

Now,  the  home  of  the  sisters  was  on  the  shore  of  this  hilie,  but  tliey 
had  camped  in  the  middle  of  its  waters  in  order  to  see  how  the 
four  men  would  act  and  to  ascertain  what  orenda  they  had. 

Karly  in  the  night  the  women  came  to  the  camp  of  the  men  but  did 
not  sleep  with  them,  returning  to  their  own  camp  instead.  In  the 
morning  the  women  went  to  their  home  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
AVhen  they  arrived  there  their  mother  asked  them,  "What  husband 
has  the  most  orenda?"  They  answered  unanimously,  "  Okteondon." 
When  the  men  awoke  in  the  morning  they  saw  the  shore  of  the  lake 
lined  with  great  crowds  of  people,  who  were  expecting  the  retui'n  of 
the  women  with  their  husbands.  ^Mien  ready  to  start.  Okteoiuhm 
said  to  the  three  men,  "We  will  now  go  to  the  women,  but  j'ou  must 
be  very  cautious  and  must  not  look  up  at  the  peojjle."  Then  the  four 
men  .started  from  (heir  camp  on  the  ice  for  the  shore.  AVhen  they 
had  gone  but  a  short  distance,  three  of  them  heard  a  voice  singing, 
Gic(T'  UHConemon' (IV .  which  means,  "  Lo !  It  is  raining  bones." 
The.se  words  were  heard  a  second  time,  sounding  nearer:  llicn  sud- 
denly the  men  heard  a  swift  rushing  sound,  and  a  mass  of  dry  bones 
swept  rustling  past  them  on  the  ice.^'"  Okteondon  steadied  his  re- 
uuuniug  friends  with  the  curt  remark,  "  Oneof  ushas  looked  up."  At 
that  uioment  all  the  people  on  the  shore  suddenly  disappeared,  with 
the  exception  of  (he  old  woman  [Kahenchitahonk],  a  noted  witch, 
the  mothei'  of  the  girls  who  were  bringing  home  their  iiusbands. 
She  walked  back  and  forth  along  the  shore,  singing:  "  Okteondon  is 
my  son-in-law.  Okteondon  is  my  son-in-law."  When  Okteondon  and 
his  two  remaining  companions  i-eachcd  the  shore,  the  old  woman, 
.after  inviting  the  men  to  follow  her.  star(ed  for  her  home.  Having 
arrived  there,  she  said.  "I  am  going  to  see  whether  my  daughters 
have  prepared  something  to  eat;  so  you  wait  here  until  I  ri>(urn." 
Xow  the  lodge  of  the  old  woman  was  built  of  ice.  So  while  .she  was 
away,  Okteondon.  taking  a  small  bundle  of  sticks,  said.  "  Tx't  these 
burn!"  Straightway  the  pile  of  sticlcs  became  large  and  took  fire, 
bin-ning  so  briskh-  as  to  give  out  great  heat.  Then  Okteondon  said 
to  the  two  men:  "The  old  woman  will  bring  food  for  us  to  eat,  but 
you  two  nnist  not  eat  it.  I  alone  will  cat  it.  for  it  will  not  hurt  me." 
So  saying,  he  made  a  hole  through  the  ice  into  which  he  thrust  a  reed. 
In  a  short  time  the  old  woman  returned,  saying:  "  Son-in-law,  T  have 
brouglit  you  a  small  <iuantity  of  something  to  (>at.  It  is  the  custom, 
you  know,  to  eat  only  a  little  after  a  long  journey."  Taking  the  bark 
bowl,  Okteondon  ate  all  the  food,  which  ran  through  the  reed  into 
the  ground.  This  food  was  hominy  (snow)  and  bloodsuckers 
(clouds).  In  a  short  time  the  old  woman  returned  with  another 
bowl,  saying:  "I  have  brought  more  for  you  (o  eat.  This  is  hominy 
cooked  with  maple  sugar"  (it  was  wild  flint  that  floats  on  water). 
Xow  the  lodge  of  the  old  woman  was  becoming  full  of  holes  from  the 


394  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etu.  a-NN.  3^ 

heat  of  the  fire,  wJiereupon  she  exclaimed,  "irAM'.'  My  son-in-hiw 
has  spoiled  my  lodge.  Let  us  go  to  the  lodge  of  my  daughter." 
Going  thither,  they  found  something  good  to  eat  (i.  e.,  food  which 
was  not  tlie  proihict  of  the  arts  of  sorcery). 

In  the  night  when  all  had  retired  the  wife  of  Okteondon  told  him 
in  confidence :  "  M}'  mother  will  try  to  kill  you  (by  testing  your 
orenda).  She  does  not  care  much  about  the  other  two  men,  for  she 
knows  just  what  powers  of  orenda  they  have,  and  that  she  can  take 
their  lives  whenever  she  wishes  to  do  so.''  So  toward  evening  of  the 
next  day  the  old  woman,  Kahenchitahonk,  said:  ^'Whu\'  I  think 
that  it  is  going  to  be  terribly  cold  tonight.  I  will  get  some  large 
logs  to  make  a  fire  to  warm  my  back  during  the  night."  So  bringing 
great  logs  into  the  lodge  from  the  \'\  oods,  she  made  a  hot  fire.  The 
wife  of  Okteondon  said  to  her  husband:  "My  motlier  will  say  to- 
night. '  I  dreamed  that  my  son-in-law  must  go  to  hunt  to  kill  the 
S'hadahgeah.  and  that  he  must  return  to  this  lodge  before  the  door- 
flaj),  which  he  swings  shut  behind  him  in  going  out,  stops  swinging, 
l)ecause  if  these  things  are  not  performed  something  direful  will 
happen.' "'  There  were  then  only  two  men  besides  Okteondon  in  the 
lodge,  for  the  third  companion  of  Okteondon,  Hois'heqtoni,''*'^  had 
been  turned  into  bones  on  the  lake  by  the  collapsing  of  the  power  of 
his  orenda.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  the  old  woman,  Kahenchita- 
honk, began  to  groan  hori-ibly  and  to  writhe  and  toss  in  her  sleep. 
Finall}'  she  rolled  out  of  her  bed  into  the  fire  with  s>ich  force  that  she 
scattered  the  firebrands  and  coals  about  the  lodge.  Quickly  rising 
from  his  bed,  Okteondon  struck  his  mother-in-law  on  the  head  with 
the  corn-pounder,  to  awaken  her.  calling  out,  "  Well,  mother-in-law, 
what  are  you  doing,  and  what  is  your  trouble  i  "  ThereuiJon  the  old 
woman,  sitting  up.  said:  "  Oil  I  I  lia\e  just  had  a  dream.  I  dreamed 
that  you,  my  son-in-law,  must  kill  S'hadahgeah  •^''  tomorrow  and 
bring  his  body  in  here.  befor(*the  tloor-flap,  which  you  will  swing  shut 
behind  .you  in  going  out,  stops  swinging,  because  if  these  things  are 
not  performed  something  direful  will  happen."  "  Oh,  mother-in-law  ! 
Go  to  sleep  now ;  we  will  attend  to  this  matter  in  the  morning," 
answered  Okteondon.  So  Kahenchitahonk  lay  down  again  and 
slept. 

The  next  morning  Okteondon  was  ready  to  -perform  his  task. 
Taking  hairs  from  his  wife's  head,  he  tied  them  end  to  end,  making 
a  coi-il  long  enougli  for  his  purpose:  then  tying  one  end  of  this 
cord  to  tlie  door-flap,  he  gave  the  other  end  of  it  to  his  wife,  bidding 
her  to  pull  the  door-flap  to  and  fro,  so  as  to  keep  it  swinging,  until 
he  came  back  from  shooting  S'hadahgeah.  Okteondon  then  started 
out  to  hunt  for  his  victim,  but  lie  had  not  gone  far  from  the  lodge  be- 
fore he  saw  S'hadahgeah  perched  on  a  cloud.  He  let  fly  one  of  his 
arrows,  which  kept  its  course  until  it  struck  the  bird.    When  S'hadah- 


uhwitt]  legends  395 

gt'ah  fell  to  the  grouii<l  ( )kli'()iuliiii  picki'd  it  up  iiiiil  canii'd  it  bark 
to  the  lodge. 

Xow  when  the  old  witch  saw  that  the  door-flap  did  not  stop  swiiit;;- 
iiiy;.  she  was  veiy  angry.  Siie  pushed  it  to,  hut  unknown  to  her  the 
daughtei'  kept  it  swinging  to  and  tVo.  At  this  time  Okteondon. 
striding  in.  threw  the  liird  on  the  ground,  saying,  "  There  I  you  have 
him  for  your  'eat-all"  feast  (;/n'/.sii/ion) ."  "Oh,  son-in-law  1  "  said 
the  old  woman:  "you  must  gi\e  me  one  of  the  wings  for  a  fan:  my 
old  one  is  now  woiii  out.""  "Oh  no  1  ""  said  Oideondon;  "yon  can 
not  have  it,"  and  he  threw  the  bird  on  tiie  lii'e  to  remo\e  its  feathers. 
Then  Tlot'hiili,  ( )i<leondon"s  fi-irml,  plac'cil  a  ketlle  of  water  o\er 
the  lire.  When  I  lie  feathers  were  IiuiikhI  olf  .'^■liadahgeah,  ()kteiin- 
don,  after  cutting  up  its  IxKly,  put  all  tlu'  pieces  into  the  kettle. 
^^'Ilen  it  was  cooked,  he  took  out  the  llesh  and  skimmed  oil  e\ery 
drop  of  fat  from  the  souj).  "  Now,""  said  tlu-  old  wonuin,  "you  must 
iinite  all  the  men  of  distinction  in  the  \illage."  "I  will  in\itc 
whom  I  please,""  said  Okteondon,  ''and  do  just  as  I  like.""  (ioing 
out  of  door.s,  he  .shouted,  •' T  invite  you,  all  DagwaiKH-nyents,  to  an 
'eat-all"  ((/iK/xdho/i)  feast.""  Soon  they  began  to  come  one  after 
another.  A\'hen  all  were  present,  Okteondon  said:  "I  ha\e  invited 
you  to  a  feast  in  which  evei'vthing  nnist  be  consumed,  ^'ou  nuist  eat 
the  meat,  ili'ink  the  soup,  chew  the  bones  and  swallow  them."''  So 
they  began  to  eat.  and  .soon  they  had  devoured  everything,  leaxing 
not  a  drop  of  gi'ease  or  fat,  nor  a  bit  of  bone;  then  the  Dagwanoen- 
yenls  lau<.died,  feeling  good  when  they  had  fini.shed  their  tusk.  They 
boisterously  exclaimed.  "It  made  a  tine  meal;  it  was  liei'  late  hus- 
band"s  llesh.'" 

Kahenchitahonk,  the  great  witch,  notorious  and  cruel,  was  now 
ferociously  angi'y.  Seizing  the  wooden  pestle,  oi-  corn-]i(iuuiler.  she 
struck  the  Dagwanoenyents  with  it,  whereuijon  they  lied  at  once  from 
the  lodge,  some  going  out  of  tlit'  smoke-hole,  some  through  the 
doorway,  and  others  in  their  great  haste  making  large  rents  in  the 
walls  of  the  lodge,  through  which  they  e.scaped.  When  she  had 
di'i\'en  them  all  out  of  the  lodge,  .she  said:  "  T  think  tlie  coining 
night  will  be  xi'ry  cold;  .so  1  nuist  fetch  wood  foi'  the  tire."'  Bring- 
ing much  wood,  she  then  made  a  great  fire,  saying,  "Now.  T  will 
be  able  to  warm  m_v  back";  then  she  went  to  sleep  with  her  back 
to  the  lire.  The  wife  of  Okteondon  said  to  him:  "My  mother,  will 
dream  again  tonight  and  will  e.xclaim.  "1  di'eamed  that  my  .son-in- 
law  killed  the  White  lieaver  ami  brought  it  here  before  the  door- 
tla]i.  which  he  will  tling  back  in  going  out,  stopped  swinging,  and 
that  if  he  does  not  retui'n  before  the  dooi'-flap  stops  swinging,  some- 
thing direful  will  hapjien  to  us."'  Late  in  the  night  all  over  the 
lodge  they  heai'd  the  old  woman  gi-oaning.  and  lolling  and  tossing 
about:  linalh'  she   fell   into  the  lii'e.  scatterinir  the  coals  ai'ound  the 


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

lodge.  Jumping  up  and  seizing  the  corn-pounder,  Okteondon  struck 
the  old  woman  on  the  head  to  awaken  her,  saying  to  her,  "  You  must 
be  dreaming  about  me,  mother-in-hiw  ?  "  "  Oh,  yes !  I  am  dreaming 
about  3'ou,*'  she  muttered  in  reply.  "  You  dream  about  no  one  else, 
T  think,"  said  Okteondon.  ''  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  do  dream  about  j-ou, 
for  I  fear  something  may  happen,  but  you  are  powerful  through 
j^our  orenda  (magic  power).  I  will  tell  you  what  the  dream  said 
to  me ;  it  said  that  my  son-in-law  must  kill  the  White  Beaver,  and 
that  if  the  door-flap  which  he  flings  back  in  going  out  stops  swinging 
before  he  returns  with  the  dead  Beaver,  something  direful  will 
happen."  "  Oh,  mother-in-law!  go  back  to  sleep;  that  is  a  small 
matter,  nothing,"  said  Okteondon. 

Early  in  the  morning  Okteondon  fastened  the  string  made  from 
his  wife's  hair  to  the  door-flap,  as  he  had  done  in  the  former  ordeal, 
and  l)ade  his  wife  thereby  keep  it  swinging  to  and  fro  while  he 
was  gone,  as  she  had  done  before.  Then  he  went  out,  flinging  the 
door-flap  back  as  he  passed  through.  Then,  running  to  a  knoll 
on  which  stood  a  butternut  tree,  and  taking  a  nut  from  it,  he  hur- 
ried to  a  neighboring  lake,  where  he  cast  the  nut  into  the  water, 
shouting  a  challenge,  "  You  who  live  in  this  lake  come  forth."  At 
once  the  water,  rising,  rushed  toward  him,  following  him  until  it 
leached  tlie  knoll,  where  it  stopped.  Okteondon  saw  the  White 
Beaver  looking  out  over  the  water,  and,  taking  an  arrow  from  his 
quiver  and  drawing  his  bow,  shot  the  White  Beater,  killing  it. 
Seizing  its  bodv.  he  hurried  home  with  it.  When  he  reached  the 
doorway  he  found  the  old  woman  trying  to  hold  the  fla2>  to  prevent 
it  from  swinging  to  and  fro  and  uttering  words  charged  with  her 
orenda  to  accomplish  her  pm-pose.  When  Okteondon  threw  "\Aliite 
Beaver  into  the  lodge  the  old  woman  said:  "Oh,  son-in-law!  you 
are  to  make  me  a  pouch  of  the  skin  of  'N^liite  Beaver."  "  Oh,  no !  I 
will  do  what  I  like  with  it,"  he  replied,  casting  it  on  the  fire  to 
singe  ofl'  the  hair.  Putting  a  kettle  over  the  fire,  Hot'hoh  soon  had 
water  boiling.  Then  the  body  of  White  Beaver  having  been  cut 
up.  the  pieces  were  placed  in  the  kettle  to  cook.  Thereupon  Olde- 
ondon's  mother-in-law  said  to  him:  "  Oh,  son-in-law  !  I  want  you  to 
invite  all  the  men  of  importance  of  this  place  to  the  feast."  Olrte- 
ondon  answered:  "Oh,  no!  I  will  invite  only  such  persons  as  I 
choose."  When  the  flesh  of  White  Beaver  was  cooked  Okteondon 
removed  the  pieces  from  the  kettle  to  cool;  then  he  went  out  of  the 
lodge,  calling  aloud:  "I  invite  you,  all  Dagwanoenyents,  to  come  to 
a  feast  of  '  eat-all'  {(jiKjmhon).''^  Soon  they  came  crowding  into 
the  lodge,  as  they  had  at  the  first  feast,  and  Okteondon  said :  "  You 
must  eat  up  everything  to  the  very  last  bit.  Here  are  the  meat,  the 
soiiji.  and  the  bones;  you  must  eat  all  and  even  lick  the  bowls." 
So  they  began  to  eat;  they  ate  the  meat,  drank  the  oily  broth,  and 


"i^l^il  LEGENDS  397 

tlie  crunching  of  bones  coiiKl  he  heard  as  they  devoiiied  them. 
Lastly  they  licked  tlie  hariv  howls.  A\'lien  they  had  finished  tlieir 
task  they  were  satisfuMl  and  heixan  to  laujili:  "///',  ///,  /(/.'  That  was 
good  meat,  the  ohl  woman's  hrothcr.""  The  ohl  woman  was  wvy 
angry  and,  taking  up  the  coin-pounder,  attacked  them,  driving  them 
from  the  lodge. 

Aftei-  the  feast  was  over,  the  -wife  of  Okteondon  told  him  that 
the  next  trial  was  one  among  all  odiers  the  most  severe  and  exacting. 
She  said  (o  him  :  "  My  uiothci'  will  say  tonight,  'I  dreame(l  that  m  v 
son-indaw  was  killed  and  skinned,  and  that  1  made  a  j)ouch  of  his 
skin."  T  do  ho])e  you  can  sur\  ive  this  oi'deal."  In  reply  Okteondon 
said.  '■  ^Mien  she  kills  and  skins  me  and  places  my  lle^h  in  a  hark 
bowl,  you  nuist  set  the  how  I  on  (he  top  of  the  lodge.""  'I'oward  even- 
ing Kahenchitahonk,  the  old  witch,  mutlered,  "The  sky  is  clear,  so 
we  shall  ha\e  a  very  cold  niglil.  and  1  must  get  logs  to  make  a  l>ig 
fire.""  At  rught  she  made  a  gri-at  lire  in  the  lodge,  and  after  all  had 
I'etired  she  began  to  moan  and  (oss  in  hei-  sleep;  finally  she  rolled  into 
the  fire,  scattering  (he  lirehi-ands  around  the  I'dom.  (Quickly  rising 
and  seizing  the  corn-|)ounder.  ()kteondon  struck  her  on  the  head, 
saying:  "Oh,  mother-in  law  I  A\'hat  is  tlie  matter!'  ^A'hat  are  you 
doing!'  A\'hat  are  you  dreaming  about  ^ '"  She  replied,  "I  drcamcil 
that  I  killed  you  and  made  a  pouch  of  your  skin.""  Okteondim 
I'cplicd.  '"Oh!  go  to  sleep  now:  we  will  see  to  that  in  the  morning."" 
So  the  next  morning  ()kteond(in  saiil,  "Now,  mother-in-law.  I  am 
rea_dy."  ThereupDU  tlie  great  witch  laid  on  the  ground  a  piece  of 
bark  sufliciently  lai-ge  for  the  pur]iose,  telling  Okteondon  to  lie  down 
upon  it.  When  he  did  so,  she  knocked  him  on  the  hea<l  with  a  club, 
killing  him.  Then  she  carefully  flayed  him,"'  removing  the  skin  with 
the  hands  ami  feet  attached  to  it.  Afterward  she  placed  all  the 
flesh  in  a  large  bark  bowl.  As  soon  as  the  wife  cd'  ( )kleiiuili)n  saw 
her  put  the  last  piece  into  the  bowl,  she  placed  the  i)owl  on  the  to]) 
of  the  lodge.  Then  the  old  woman  next  cheei-fully  sewed  u])  the  skin 
in  the  form  of  a  ])ouch.  which  she  distended  by  blow  ing  into  it.  This 
done,  she  hung  it  ovei-  the  flames,  poking  the  lire  to  make  it  blaze. 
As  the  pouch  swayed  to  and  fro  over  the  fire,  the  old  woman  gle(d'ully 
began  to  sing.  "Oh  !  what  a  nice  i)iiu<'h  ha\ c  I  :  no  one  li\  ing  has  such 
a  pouch."'  l'.\ery  time  she  poked  the  lii'e  the  pouch  swayed  more 
<|uiekly  to  and  fi'o.  until  at  last  it  began  to  sing,  "Ohl  were  the  wind 
oidy  out  of  me.""  The  old  woman  kept  on  stirring  the  (ii'e  while 
the  poiu'h  swayed  to  and  fro  faster  ami  faster.  "Oh.  what  a  beauti- 
ful pouch  have  T.""  said  she:  "it  even  sings.""  After  a  while  the 
pouch  made  a  noise,  and  with  a  />/ii'.'  went  flying  up  through  the 
smoke-hole.  As  it  flew  out.  the  old  woman  ci'ied,  "Oh!  T  have  lost 
my  pouch:  it  has  run  away  from  me.""  She  hurried  to  the  dooi-way, 
and  in  going  out  she  met  her  son-in-law  conung  in  alive  and  well. 


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

Tt  was  now  Okteondon's  turn.  That  night  he  had  a  dream,  groan- 
ing and  rolling  around  until  his  mother-in-law.  arising,  struck 
him  on  the  head  with  the  corn-pounder,  saying:  "Wake  up!  "Wliat 
is  the  matter?  Are  you  dreaming?  "  ''  Oh  !  I  had  a  dream,''  said  he. 
."Well,  what  was  it?"  said  the  old  woman.  "I  dreamed,"  he  told 
her,  "that  I  must  hunt  and  kill  the  great  Ganiagwaihe  and  give  a 
feast.  I  will  invite  all  the  iieople  in  the  village."  The  next  mornmg 
Okteondon  killed  the  Cianiagwaihe,  and  having  brought  it  into  the 
lodge,  singed  it  and  cut  it  up  while  Ilot'hoh  set  a  kettle  of  water  over 
the  fire.  When  the  flesh  of  (xaniagwaihe  was  cooked,  Okteondon  said 
to  his  mother-in-law,  "  Go  and  invite  all  to  come."  So  going  out, 
she  invited  all  those  personages  whom  she  herself  liked.  While  she 
was  gone,  Okteondon  said  to  his  wife  and  his  two  friends  who  had 
accompanied  him  from  his  uncle's  home,  "  You  must  get  out  of  this 
lodge  at  once  " ;  so  they  fled  from  it.  Then  all  the  newly  invited 
guests  entered- — the  old  woman,  her  other  two  daughters,  and  the 
people  of  the  place.  Addressing  them,  Okteondon  said :  "  Here  is  the 
ile.sh,  the  fat,  and  the  bones.  Eat  all  up  clean:  I  leave  all  to  J'ou." 
One  of  the  chiefs  said  to  the  i:>eople,  "  We  have  now  all  eaten." 
Passing  out  of  the  lodge,  Olrteondon  ran  around  it,  singing,  "  Let 
this  lodge  become  stone  and  the  gi'ound  under  it  stone,  so  that  the 
greatest  witch  can  not  get  out  of  it,  and  then  let  it  become  red-hot." 
80  while  the  people  were  inside  the  lodge  eating  and  drinking  and 
saving,  '"'"Ilolm!  this  is  a  grand  feast,"  the  building  began  to  grow 
hotter  and  hotter,  until  finally  it  became  red-hot.  Some  one  on  the 
inside  exclaimed  so  loud  that  he  was  heard  without,  "Let  us  get  out 
of  here  as  fast  as  we  can:  something  is  wrong!"  They  tried  to  do 
so,  but  they  could  not  get  out.  One  leaped  up  to  the  spot  where 
the  smoke-hole  had  been,  but  those  outside  lieard  him  knock  his  head 
against  the  solid  stone  roof  and  fall  back.  Soon  another  said,  "  I 
will  go  out  through  the  ground."  After  a  while  the  sound  of  the 
voices  and  the  screaming  inside  l)egan  to  die  away,  and  all  was  quiet. 
Then  tlie  lodge  of  stone  burst,  falling  to  pieces,  and  the  heads  of  the 
people  inside  burst,  one  after  another,  and  out  of  them  sprang 
screech  owls,  horned  owls,  common  owls,  and  gray  and  red  foxes,  whicli 
rushed  away,  out  of  sight.  The  people  invited  to  the  feast  were  all 
Oa'gwe''  M'n'nfhn  goh'nehs-leho  .^*'  The  sisters  sailing  in  the  canoe 
deceived  men  all  over  the  country,  hu-ing  them  to  this  village  to  be 
devoured  by  the  inhaliitants.  All  except  the  wife  of  Okteondon  were 
thus  burned  up  with  the  old  woman. 

When  all  was  over,  Okteondon  and  his  wife  and  his  two  friends 
went  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  they  found  a  large  heap  of 
bones  of  men.  These  they  gathered  into  some  order  near  a  large 
hickory  tree,  whereupon  they  pushed  the  tree  over  toward  the  bones. 
saying,  "  Else,  friends,  or  the  tree  will  fall  on  you !  "     At  this  warn- 


^,"^«JS]  LEGENDS  399 

iiig,  and  by  the  great  orenda  (magic  power)  of  Oktoondon.  all  the 
bones  spi'ang  up  living  men.  "Now,''  said  Oictcondon  to  them, 
"You  have  come  to  life,  friends,  and  yon  can  now  go  to  your 
lionics."''"'    At  this  they  departed. 

■•  ^^'(!  will  go  home,  too,"  said  Okteondon  to  his  wile  and  two 
f fiends;  so  they  went  to  the  lodge  of  his  uncle.  Ilaient'hwus.  When 
Okteondcui  left  his  honu'  his  uncle  hung  up  in  a  corner  of  the  lodge 
a  wampum  belt,  with  the  I'diiarii.  "'^I'lie  (leejicr  you  are  in  trouble,  the 
nearer  will  tiiis  belt  cunic  to  the  ground,  and  if  you  die.  it  will 
touch  the  ground."  ()f  course  it  had  been  low  and  had  even 
touched  the  ground:  hence  the  old  uncle  had  concluded  that  his 
nephew  was  dead  and  had  ninurneil  for  him.  Hut  at  this  time 
the  belt  was  again  hanging  high.  While  the  nephew  was  ab- 
.sent  many  persons  had  come,  ju-etending  to  be  Okteondon.  in  order 
to  deceive  the  old  num;  so  now  when  the  real  nephew  aslced  him  to 
open  the  door-flap  he  would  no(  believe  his  ears,  but  said,  "Put  your 
arm  through  the  hole  in  the  door."  Okteondon  did  so,  whereupon  the 
old  man  tied  it,  saying,  "Now,  I  have  you."  unfastening  the  door- 
flap  so  he  could  sti-ike.  I'ut  seeing  Okteondon  and  his  wife  and  his 
two  friends,  he  cxcbiinied  \\*ith  delight.  "Oh.  nephew!  wait  a  mo- 
ment, uutil  T  clean  ujt  somewhat  inside."  Saying  this,  he  went  in- 
side and  pushed  away  the  ashes  ;nid  dirt.      (  ImkI.) 

71.    OurKONDOX    ANU    IlAIKN'r'HWr.S II 

(Anntlier  version  nf  the  lirst  jiart   ef  ilie  leireml) 

Okteondon  lived  wilh  his  uncle.  Ilaient'hwus,  in  the  forest.  Be- 
side his  uncles  lodge  stood  u  lai-ge,  tall  elm  tree.  Okteondon.  the 
nephew.  alwaj'S  remained  at  the  foot  of  this  ti'ee.  and  finally  its 
roots  grew  over  and  around  his  body,  thus  binding  it  firmly  to  the 
ground. 

Now  Ilaient'hwus.  being  very  fond  of  his  nephew,  always  brought 
him  everything  that  he  liked  to  eat  and  drink — roasted  venison, 
boiled  squashes,  dried  berries,  broiled  fish,  and  all  kinds  of  shellfish. 
The  fii-st  thing  that  Ilaieufhwus  did  in  the  morning  was  (o  put  corn 
into  a  Wooden  nioilar  foi'  the  ])ur]iose  of  making  coriuneal  for 
i)oiled  cornbi'ead  :  then  with  a  wooden  ])estle  he  struck  it  a  sin<rle 
blow,  which  crushed  the  corn  to  fine  meal.  The  ]ieople  far  and  near, 
it  is  said,  heard  this  blow,  and  would  say.  "The  uncle  of  Okteondon 
is  well-to-do  and  strong."  The  old  nuin  made  bread  with  the  nH>al 
whidi  he  boiled:  when  it  was  cooked  he  brought  some  of  it  to 
his  nephew  and  also  ate  some  himself.  On  certain  days  he  went  to 
the  foi-est  for  firewood.  It  was  a  pi'acti<'e  with  him  to  burn  logs 
into  pieces  of  such  length  that  he  couhl  Iiring  them  to  his  lodge. 
When  the  fires  on  one  log  wei'e  burning  well  he  would  light  fii-es  on 


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

other  logs,  and  so  would  go  from  one  to  another,  keeping  them  in 
order.  "When  the  pieces  Nvere  burned  off  and  ready,  the  old  man 
woidd  carry  them  or  drag  them  home,  and  as  he  threw  them  down 
they  made  a  deep,  pleasant  sound  on  the  earth.  Thereupon  all  the 
peojile  of  the  region  round  about,  even  to  the  most  distant  places, 
heard  the  sound,  and  would  say,  "  The  uncle  of  Okteondon  is  well- 
to-do  and  strong."  On  some  other  days  Haiefit'hwus  would  go  out 
to  gather  beans  and  squashes  or  to  dig  wild  potatoes. 

One  spring  morning,  in  the  planting  season.  Haiefit'hwus  went  to 
his  clearing  in  the  woods  with  two  baskets  of  seeds  strapped  to  his 
belt.  Before  starting  he  left  plenty  of  food  with  his  nephew,  say- 
ing, ."  I  am  going  to  put  these  seeds  uito  the  ground."  The  old  man 
was  in  the  field  engaged  in  making  holes  in  the  earth  with  a  stick 
forked  at  one  end  and  sharp  at  the  other.  Into  these  holes  he 
dropi^ed  seeds,  cltjsing  them  with  fine  earth.  All  at  once'  he"  heard 
a  song  accompanied  with  the  words,  "Oh,  uncle!  I  am  going  to 
rise;  I  am  going  to  rise."  He  knew  at  once  that  what  he  had 
heard  was  his  nephew's  song;  so  dropping  his  pointed  stick  for 
I^lanting.  and  forgetting  all  about  the  seeds  in  his  two  baskets,  he 
rushed  home.  As  he  ran  the  baskets  struck  the  trees  on  both  sides 
of  the  narrow  trail,  scattering  the  seeds  so  that  all  were  lost  on  the 
trail.  "When*  Haiefit'hwus  reached  the  lodge  he  saw  that  his  nephew 
was  resting  on  one  elbow  and  that  the  tree  was  inclined  toward  tlie 
earth,  with  its  roots  starting  from  the  ground.  "  "Well,  nejihew, 
what  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  old  man.  "I  am  getting  thirst.v, 
uncle,"  said  the  youth.  The  old  man  gave  him  some  water  and 
pushed  the  tree  back  into  its  upright  position ;  then  looking  into  his 
baskets,  he  saw  that  they  were  empty.  So  Haiefit'hwus  spent  the 
rest  of  the  day  on  his  knees,  picking  uj)  what  seeds  he  could  find 
along  both  sides  of  the  path. 

On  another  day  he  went  out  to  strip  bark  from  the  slippery-elm 
trees  for  the  purpose  of  making  cords.  Before  starting  he  gave 
Okteondon  everything  that  he  needed.  After  he  had  stripped  off 
a  large  quantity  of  bark  and  was  tying  it  into  bundles,  Haiefit'hwus 
heard  the  song  again,  accompanied  with  the  words,  "  Oh,  uncle ! 
I  am  rising;  I  am  rising."  As  soon  as  he  heard  these  words,  Hai- 
efit'hwus, slinging  a  bundle  of  the  bark  on  his  back,  swiftly  ran  home. 
As  he  hurried  along  the  bundle  struck  against  the  trees,  first  on  one 
and  then  on  the  other  side  of  the  trail,  causing  pieces  of  bark  to 
slip  out  every  here  and  there,  until  there  was  nothing  left  of  the 
burden  on  the  old  man's  back  but  the  ends  of  the  forehead  strap. 
On  reaching  home  Haiefit'hwus  asked,  "  What  is  the  matter,  nephew  ?" 
as  he  saw  Okteondon  resting  on  one  elbow  and  the  tree  leaning  over 
to  one  side.  "  Oh,  I  am  thirsty,  uncle,"  replied  Olrteondon.  The 
uncle  brought  him  water,  and  then  straightened  up  the  tree,  after 


CCRTIN 
HBWl  IT 


]  LEGENDS  401 


which  he  returned  to  tlie  woods.  He  picked  up  the  pieces  of  bark 
on  both  sides  of  the  ]);ith  until  he  arrived  at  tlie  place  where  he  had 
strippetl  it  from  tlie  trees.  Just  at  tliat  moment  he  again  lieard 
the  song,  "  Oii,  uncle  I  1  am  rising:  1  am  rising."'  At  this,  solilo- 
(juizing,  "Poor  boy,  I  wonder  what  he  wants,"  Ilaient'hwus  again 
ran  homeward.  When  he  was  about  halfway  there,  he  heartl  tiie 
song  a  second  time,  and  alnio.^t  at  the  same  moment  came  to  his  ears 
a  tremendous  crash  of  the  falling  tr.ee,  wiiich  was  heard  over  the 
entire  country,  so  that  all  the  people  said  one  to  another,  "  Okteon- 
doii  has  now  grown  to  manh(i(i(|  and  has  arisen."  When  Ilaient'hwus 
reached  the  lodge,  the  great  elm  tree  had  fallen  and  Okteondon  was 
standing  there,  awaiting  him. 

72.  UxcnK  AM)  Xf.i'iiew  anm  rin;  ^^'Ill^l■.  Ottkks 

An  uncle  and  liis  nephew  lived  alone  far  oil  in  the  woods.  In 
former  times  there  had  been  a  gi-eat  many  of  their  people,  but  with 
the  exception  of  these  two  all  were  tiead. 

One  day  the  uncle  said:  "My  nephew,  you  ha\e  grown  to  be  a 
large  lad,  and  now  you  must  attend  to  hunling.  You  nuist  take  the 
bow  and  the  quivei'  of  arrows  with  which  I  used  to  hunt."  So  say- 
ing, the  old  man  took  fi'om  the  wall  his  bow,  which  was  grimed  with 
smoke,  and  cleaned  it  \ery  carefully.  Then  he  said:  ""We  will  now 
make  a  trial  at  .shooting."  Ihning  gone  out  of  the  lodge,  the  uncle  by 
wa}'  of  e.xample  first  shot  into  a  tree,  and  the  nephew  with  another 
arrow  made  a  grxxl  shot.  'l'hereu|)()n  tiie  uncle  said,  "That  kind  of 
shooting  will  do;  you  must  now  begin  hunting." 

The  next  morning  very  early,  when  they  were  ready,  the  uncle 
said,  "  You  must  go  out  between  .sunrise  and  sunset,  and  you  must 
always  keep  on  the  sun  side:  never  go  north."  The  lad  started  to 
hunt,  and  had  not  been  out  long  when  he  killed  a  deer,  and  soon 
afterward  another,  both  of  which  he  took  home.  The  uncle  thanked 
him,  saying,  "We  can  live  now,  for  we  lune  plenty  of  meat."  He 
himg  the  meat  up  in  pieces,  with  bark  strings,  throughout  the  lodge. 

The  lad  brought  in  game  every  day  for  some  time.  After  a  wiiile 
he  luul  to  go  a  long  way  toward  the  south  to  find  any  game;  his 
uncle  always  cautioned  him  against  going  northward. 

Once  after  he  came  home  and  was  sitting  around  the  lodge,  the 
uncle  said:  "When  I  was  young  I  u.sed  to  have  an  object  with  which 
to  amuse  myself.  I  will  get  it  for  you  and  when  you  are  home  you 
can  play  with  it."  Then  bringing  out  a  flute,  the  uncle  taught  the 
boy  to  play  it.  As  the  uncle  blew  on  it  the  flute  said,  "  Tomorrow  I 
shall  kill  a  deer,  a  bear,  etc.."  greatly  pleasing  the  boy  who  also 
played  on  it.  In  the  morning  he  started  off  hunting,  and.  indeed, 
he  killed  just  such  game  as  the  flute  said  he  would.  That  night  after 
94615°— 18 26 


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

he  had  rested  from  hunting  he  played  on  his  flute  and  again  it  said, 
"I  shall  kill  an  elk  tomorrow,"  a  different  kind  of  animal  from  that 
of  the  previous  day.  The  next  day  the  lad  killed  exactly  what  the 
flute  said. 

The  morning  after  he  went  out  he  wondered  why  he  must  go  so  far 
toward  the  south  ;  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  noithward :  so  nuikmg  a 
circuit,  he  was  soon  north  of  his  lodge.  Finding  tracks  of  game  ani- 
mals, he  followed  them  until  he  came  to  a  broad  opening.  Here  he 
ran  after  the  elks,  which  he  saw  in  a  circle  in  the  woods:  at  last  he 
cauie  out  in  the  opening  again,  where  he  had  started.  All  at  once  he 
heard  a  woman's  voice  calling.  "  Here !  Hold  on  I  "  but  he  ran  on 
at  full  speed  after  the  elk.  Around  again  he  went  after  these  ani- 
mals. AMien  he  got  back  to  the  same  place  a  second  time  the  woman's 
voice  called  out.  "Wait  and  re.st  I  "  Looking  around,  he  saw  the 
woman  sitting  on  a  fallen  tree,  whereupon  he  stopped.  She  said  to 
him :  "  Sit  down  here  and  rest.  I  Icnow  you  are  tired ;  when  you 
ha\e  rested  you  can  run  again  aftei'  the  elk."'  He  sat  down  near  her, 
and  pi'ettv  soon  she  took  his  head  on  her  knees.  He  had  very  long 
hail- — so  long  that  he  kept  it  tied  up;  whenever  he  let  it  down,  it 
swept  the  ground.  He  tied  one  of  his  hairs  to  a  root  in  the  ground, 
but  the  woman  did  not  see  him  do  this.  After  a  while  he  fell  asleep, 
whereupon  she  put  him  into  a  basket;  swinging  this  on  her  back  she 
started  off  on  a  run.    Eising  soon  into  the  air,  she  traveled  very  fast. 

The  hair  which  had  been  made  fast  to  a  root  stretched  till  it  would 
stretch  no  longer;  then  they  could  go  no  farther,  for  the  hair  pulled 
them  back  to  the  place  from  which  they  had  started.  The  lad  woke 
up,  and  the  woman  said  to  herself.  "I  think  there  is  some  witch- 
craft about  you:  we  will  try  again."  Once  more  she  began  to  search 
in  his  hail-.  At  last  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  she  asked,  "Are  you 
asleep?"  "  Xo,"  he  replied.  She  continued  untying  liis  hair,  again 
inquiring,  "Are  you  asleep  ? "  He  did  not  answer  this  time,  for  he 
was  indeed  asleep.  Putting  him  into  tlie  basket  and  flinging  it  on 
her  back,  she  ran  off  very  fast,  after  a  while  rising  in  the  air.  When 
she  had  gone  a  long  distance  she  came  down  by  the  bank  of  a  river; 
rousing  the  lad,  she  asked,  "Do  you  know  this  place?  "  "Yes,"  said 
he;  '■  I  have  fished  in  this  river."  "  Well,"  said  she,  "  hold  your  head 
down,  and  let  me  look  at  it  again."  She  took  his  head  on  her  knees, 
and  after  a  while  spoke  to  him.  but  he  did  not  answer,  for  he  was 
once  more  asleep.  Putting  him  into  the  basket,  she  went  up  in  the 
air,  coming  down  at  last  on  an  island.  Then,  rousing  the  youth,  she 
asked,  "  Do  you  know  this  place  ?  "  "  Yes ;  my  imcle  and  I  used  to 
conu>  here  often,"  he  replied  (he  had  never  been  there,  but  he  wi.shed 
to  deceive  her).  Again  she  put  him  to  sleep,  afterward  taking  him 
up  in  the  air  in  her  l^asket.  Finally,  removing  the  basket  from  her 
l)ack,  she  laid  it  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine,  which  was  so  deep  that  the 


'ill^lr-^  LEGENDS  403 

tops  of  tlu'  tallest  trees  which  <:vvw  in  it  could  just  be  seen  helow  the 
brink.  Then,  npscttiiiix  the  basket,  down  the  lad  went  headlon.u;  into 
the  tlei)ths,  but  he  fell  slowly,  for  he  hud  orenda  (mugic  power) 
and  hence  came  to  the  ground  unhurt.  But  he  could  find  no  way  of 
escape.    The  sides  of  the  ra\  ine  were  like  a  wall  an<l  he  was  alone. 

Meanwhile  the  boy"s  uncle  wait(>d  and  waited,  sayinji  to  himself: 
"It  is  late.  Soniethinir  ha^  hapiiened,  for  my  nephew  is  not  coming 
home  tonight.  1  must  lind  out  what  the  trouble  is.''  On  taking 
down  till'  flute  he  found  the  mouthpiece  bloody.-'''"  whereupon  he  said, 
"They  lune  oxciinatched  my  poor  nephew  in  orenda,  and  trouble 
has  come  to  him."  As  there  was  not  much  blood  on  the  mouth- 
piece, he  thought  that  perhaps  the  lad  would  free  himself  and  come 
back  in  a  few  days. 

Xow  the  nephew  lay  down  among  the  rocks  in  the  deep,  blind 
ra\ine  and  tried  to  sleep,  but  he  could  not.  All  at  once  he  heard  a 
great  bird  coming,  and  as  it  swept  |)ast  it  bit  a  mouthful  of  flesh  out 
of  his  arm.  S]iitting  on  the  arm  he  rui)be(l  it  and  thus  cured  the  bite. 
When  the  biid  had  been  gone  some  time,  he  heard  it  coming  again, 
and  as  it  flew  i)ast  in  the  opposite  direction,  it  took  a  large  bite  out 
of  his  other  arm.  This  he  cured  in  the  same  manner  as  before. 
AVhen  dajdight  came  he  arose  and  on  looking  around  he  saw  skele- 
tons on  every  side.  Two  men  \\i'rc  barely  ali\e.  The  lad  said  to 
liimseif.  "  1  suppose  that  I  shall  die  here  in  this  same  way."' 

That  night  tlie  boy's  uncle  saw  on  looking  at  the  flute  that  the 
mouthpiece  was  liloodier  than  before.  lie  then  gave  up  his  nephew 
as  lost:  sitting  down  at  the  heai-th's  edge  he  cried  and  scattered  ashes 
on  his  head  in  desjiair. 

The  second  night  the  liir-d  twice  flew  past  the  lad,  each  time 
taking  a  piece  of  fiesh  out  of  (me  of  his  arms.  Thereupon  the  boy 
would  spit  on  the  arm,  thus  healing  it  as  he  did  on  the  first  evening. 
When  the  huge  l)ird  had  gone  he  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  that  he 
heard  an  old  woman's  voice  saying:  "(irandson.  1  haxf  come  to 
help  you.  ^ Ou  think  you  are  going  to  die.  but  you  are  nof  :  I  will 
save  you.  dust  at  sunrise  in  the  morning  yon  will  vf)mit,  ami  if  you 
throw  up  anything  that  looks  like  a  hendock  leaf  you  nia}^  know 
that  you  will  be  saved.  Pick  up  the  k'af  and  .stick  it  in  the  ground. 
Then  sing,  and  as  yon  sing  the  leaf  will  become  a  tree.  Sit  on  one  of 
the  limbs  and  keep  on  singing.  The  tree  will  grow  until  it  reaches 
beyond  the  top  of  the  bank.  Then  jump  off  and  run  away."  In 
the  morning  the  boy  vomited  as  the  old  woman  of  the  dream  had 
predicted,  and  he  found  the  small  hemlock  leaf.  Sticking  this  in 
the  ground  near  the  wall  of  the  ravine  he  began  to  sing.  The  leaf 
soon  grew  into  a  tree,  and  as  he  sang  the  tree  grew  higher  and 
higher.  lie  did  not  get  on  the  tree  l)ut  remained  below  singing  until 
the  tree  was  hitrher  than  the  brink  above. 


404  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etii.  ann.  32 

Gathering  all  the  bones  carefully  into  a  pile  and  placing  on  the 
pile  the  two  men  who  were  almost  dead,  he  went  to  a  great  hickory 
ti'ee  which  stood  near  and  pushing  against  it  called  out,  ''  Rise, 
people,  and  run,  or  the  tree  shall  fall  on  you."  Thereujjon  all  the 
bones  became  living  men  and  spiinging  up  they  ran  away  from  the 
tree.  Two  of  the  men  had  legs  of  different  lengths  bj'  reason  of 
the  bones  having  become  interchanged.  Tlie  lad  said:  "  Now.  follow 
me,  all  of  you,  up  this  tree  to  the  bank  above.  You  must  not  look 
back,  for  if  you  do  you  will  fall."  The  last  two  were  the  men  with 
unequal  legs.  The  reai-most,  after  climbing  a  little  way,  looked  back 
to  see  how  far  up  they  were ;  immediately  he  tui-ned  to  bones,  which 
fell  rattling  through  the  limbs  of  the  hemlock  tree  to  the  ground. 
As  the  only  remaining  man  with  unequal  legs  got  near  the  brink, 
he  also  looked  down,  whereupon  he  likewise  fell  rattling  down 
through  the  branches  to  the  gi'ound  a  mere  heap  of  bones. 

When  all  were  some  distance  away  from  tlie  brink  the  young  man 
said :  "  You  stay  here,  and  I  will  go  and  bring  the  woman  who  has 
done  all  this  mischief  to  us.  She  hns  a  mother,  who  is  also  a  witch. 
We  will  punish  both.  I  shall  lie  back  in  a  few  days."  Starting  off, 
he  soon  came  to  the  lodge  of  the  woman  who  had  deceived  him. 
Sitting  down  by  her,  he  said, ''  I  have  come."  Soon  her  mother  came 
out  of  another  part  of  the  lodge,  saying,  "  Oh !  my  son-in-law  has 
come."  Early  the  next  night  thej'  heard  the  old  woman  groaning;  ^" 
finally,  crawling  out  of  bed  on  her  hands  and  knees,  she  rolled  over 
on  the  floor.  The  lad  struck  her  with  a  corn-pounder,  saying, 
"  Mother-in-law,  walfe  up  and  tell  us  your  dream."  Thereupon  she 
stood  up  and  said,  "  I  dreamed  that  my  son-in-law  must  go-  and  kill 
two  white  otters  in  the  lake."  He  replied :  "  Go  back  to  sleep.  Oh ! 
mother-in-law.  I  will  do  that  tomorrow."  The  old  woman  went 
back  to  her  couch.  In  the  morning  she  said:  "You  must  nm  and 
kill  two  white  otters  in  the  lake  and  return  with  tliem  before  the 
door  stops  swinging  after  you  have  slammed  it.  If  you  do  not  do  this, 
something  strange  will  happen;  but  if  you  get  back,  you  shall  live." 
Unknown  to  her,  he  tied  one  of  his  long  hairs  to  the  door  and  kept 
pulling  the  hair.  On  reaching  the  bank  of  the  lake,  he  called  to  the 
otters,  which  came  out  and  ran  to  him:  he  threw  one  of  two  round 
stones  which  he  had  in  liis  pouch,  killing  one  of  the  otters.  Then 
great  waves  of  water  1)egan  to  rush  after  him,  and  the  second  otter 
came  near  to  him  on  the  top  of  the  wave.  Throwing  the  second 
stone,  he  killed  the  second  otter.  At  this  the  wave  went  back.  He 
had  kept  pulling  the  door-flap  to  and  fro  with  his  hair  all  the'  time. 
Wlien  he  reached  the  lodge,  he  called  out,  "  Here,  mother-in-law ! 
here  are  your  two  otters."  She  said,  "Where,  where?"  (The  two 
white  otters  were  her  two  wizard  brothers.) 


^l^l^^  LEGENDS  405 

Tlie  uncle,  who  was  alone,  felt  sure  that  his  nephew  was  deatl. 
Often  as  he  sat  in  fi-ont  of  the  fire  in  the  evening,  taking  a  handful 
of  ashes  in  each  iiand.  he  held  them  over  his  liead,  lettiuix  the  ashes 
drop  on  his  face.  At  night  he  would  hear  someone  coming,  then 
a  rap  and  a  voice  calling  out,  "  Well,  unck',  I  have  come."  Jumping 
up  and  hrushing  off  the.  ashes  he  would  go  to  the  door,  only  to  find  a 
fox  or  an  owl.  In  this  way  he  was  deceived  a  number  of  times,  so 
he  had  i-esolved  not  to  be  deceived  again. 

The  night  after  the  death  of  the  otters  the  old  woman  again 
dreamed,  and  her  son-in-law  hit  her  again  with  the  corn-jiounder. 
Waking  up,  she  said,  ''  I  dre;iined  that  my  son-in-law  must  kill  the 
1)ii-(l  on  the  top  of  the  great  tree."  lie  answered,  "Oh.  mother-in-law  ! 
I  will  attend  to  that  in  the  moi'ning,  so  go  to  sleep  now."'  In  the 
morning  his  mother-in-law  said.  "If  you  get  back  after  the  door, 
which  you  have  slammed  in  going  out,  stops  swinging,  souiething 
strange  will  happen."  Again  tying  a  hair  to  the  door,  he  darted  oil". 
Allien  near  the  tall  tree  he  saw  on  the  veiv  top  a  black  eagle.  The 
first  arrow  he  .sent  went  almost  to  the  tree,  but  was  driven  back  by 
the  magic  power  of  the  eagle.  Then  he  shot  a  second  arrow,  which 
struck  the  eagle  right  in  the  heart,  bi'inging  it  to  the  ground.  Taking 
the  eagle,  he  rushed  back-  to  the  lodge,  meanwhile  keeping  the  door 
swinging  with  his  hair,  ^^'hen  he  returned  home,  he  called  out, 
"  Mother-in-law,  here  is  the  eagle."  She  said.  W'hu,  wAw.' astonished 
at  what  he  had  done  (this  eagle  was  the  old  woman's  third  brother, 
which  had  always  fed  on  the  men  thrown  into  the  ravine). 

Now  the  lad,  having  taken  his  wife  outside,  said,  "  I  want  this  lodge 
to  turn  into  flint,  and  let  it  become  heated  to  a  white  heat.""-  The 
old  woman  and  her  three  daughters  were  inside  at  the  time.  The 
former  cried  out,  "Have  pity  on  me,  son-in-law."  but  he  answered, 
"You  had  no  pity  for  me,  mother-in-law;  so  let  them  all  within 
burn  up."  Having  gone  back  with  his  wife  to  the  men  near  the 
ravine,  he  said:  "I  have  brought  back  this  woman.  Xow  we  shall 
be  revenged.  This  is  the  woman  who  threw  us  off  this  bank  to  die  in 
the  ravine  below."  Stripping  off  a  wide  i)iece  of  bark  from  a  tree 
and  tying  the  woman  thereto  with  bark  thongs,  he  placed  it  in  a 
leaning  position  against  a  tree.  Then  all  gathered  fuel,  which  was 
piled  around  the  woman,  and  a  fire  kindled  by  which  the  old  woman's 
daughter  was  burned  to  death. 

The  youth  found  two  of  his  brothers  among  those  whom  he  had 
rescued.  It  appeared  that  all  the  men  wei-e  i-elatod,  .some  as 
brothers,  others  as  cousins.  The  young  man  went  with  his  brothers 
to  his  uncle's  lodge.  Befoie  starting  lie  had  told  all  the  other  persons 
to  go  to  their  homes.  When  near  the  lodge  of  the  old  uncle  tliey 
heard. the  aged  man  weeping.  They  listened  for  some  time.  When 
the  old  man  stopped  weeping  he  began  to  sing.  "Ten  summers  I 


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

shall  mourn  for  him."  In  attempting  to  enter  the  lodge  they  fomid 
the  door-flap  fastened.  The  lad  called  out,  "  Oh,  uncle  I  I  have 
returned."  But  the  uncle,  long  annoyed  by  wizards  in  the  form  of 
animals,  replied :  "  Be  off !  You  have  deceived  me  enough."  But  the 
young  man  begged  him  to  unfasten  tha  door-flap,  assuring  hini  that 
he  had  brought  his  brothers.  Again  the  uncle  shouted :  "  Be  off ! 
You  shall  not  get  in  here."  Finally,  the  old  man  relented,  and 
making  a  hole  in  the  skin  door-flap,  called  out:  *' Thrust  your  arm 
in.  I  shall  see  if  you  are  my  nephew."  The  nephew  willingly  com- 
plied with  the  uncle's  request,  whereupon  the  imcle  tied  his  arm  with 
a  bark  thong.  -  The  youth  finally  cried  out :  "  Oh,  uncle  I  do  not  tie 
my  arm  so  tight.  You  hurt  me."  Opening  the  door-flap,  the  old 
man  saw  that  it  was  really  his  neiDhew,  and  exclaimed, '"  Oh,  nephew  ! 
wait  a  moment  imtil  I  clean  up  a  little."  Then,  having  brushed  off 
the  ashes,  he  welcomed  his  nephew  and  his  party. 

73.   Deotadastat'he  and  Hadjowiski  ^'^ 

Hadjowiski  lived  with  his  family,  consisting  of  his  wife  and  seven 
children,  in  a  large  lodge  in  the  forest.  Only  the  youngest  of  the 
seven  children  had  a  name — Deoyadastat'he.  He  was  so  small  that 
he  never  went  outside  the  lodge,  nor  did  he  play  within  it.  He 
remained  under  the  bed  at  all  times,  where  he  played  with  his 
dog,  which  was  a  flea.  The  father  of  the  family,  Hadjowiski,  was 
very  pour,  for  although  he  went  forth  to  hunt  at  sunrise,  sometimes 
even  before,  he  brouglit  home  l)ut  little  meat. 

One  morning  his  wife,  who  was  chagrined  liy  the  failure  of  her 
husband  to  provide  a  sufficiency  of  food  for  herself  and  little  ones, 
said  to  him: ''  Can  you  not  Ijring  home  more  meat  than  you  do^  We 
are  very,  very  hungry."  Hadjowiski,  dissembling,  replied,  "No;  I 
can  not  kill  more  game,  for  I  have  not  efficient  orenda  (magic 
power)."  But  the  suspecting  wife  persisted  in  her  questioning: 
"  Well,  j'our  back  always  looks  as  if  you  had  killed  plenty  of  game. 
Wh-Ai  do  you  do  with  it  after  you  have  killed  it?"  To  this  the 
husband  answered :  '"  Nothing.  I  never  have  good  luck."  The  wife 
did  not  believe  him.  however,  so  she  retorted,  "  I  think  that  you  are 
doing  something  wrontr  with  what  you  kill." 

That  day  Hadjowiski  did  not  bring  any  game  home,  but  his 
back  bore  traces  of  fresh  blood.  In  further  chiding  him  his  wife 
said:  "There  is  fresli  lilood  on  your  back,  so  you  must  have  killed 
some  game  today."  But  he  replied:  "No;  I  killed  nothing.  That 
blood  came  from  my  getting  hurt  by  a  hemlock  tree  falling  on  me." 
But  she  did  not  lielieve  him  at  all. 

The  next  morning  he  was  on  the  ti'ail  long  before  sunrise.  His 
wife,  now  thoroughly  aroused,  stealthily  followed  him.  Just  at 
midday  she  saw  him  kill  with  a  small  stone  a  large  bear.    Taking  the 


"i^l^-]  LEGENDS  407 

bear  on  his  back,  he  started  otl'.  tiailcil  liy  his  wife.  lie  soon  rearhed 
a  lodge,  which  he  entered,  wholly  unaware  that  his  wife  was  follow- 
ing him.  Creeping  up  to  the  lodge,  slie  listened  outside  to  what  was 
being  said  witliin,  and  oveiheard  the  voice  of  a  woman.  sayiiiL'. 
"The  next  time  you  come  you  must  stay  liei'e.  and  you  must  not  g<i 
iiack  liome  again."  Hadjowiski  replied.  "It  is  well;  I  sliall  do  so.'" 
TheiXMipon  he  came  out  of  the  lodge,  in  which  lie  K'ft  all  the  meat 
he  had  killed  that  day.  and  started  fur  Imme. 

His  wife  ran  on  ahead,  and,  reaching  home  ahead  of  her  husband, 
she  said  to  her  hoys.  "Sons,  youi'  father  luis  anothei'  wife,  so  T 
shall  not  remain  here  any  longer."  Then  putting  on  li(>r  panther- 
skin  robe,  she  departed.  ^A'lien  Hadjowiski  arrixcd  at  his  home,  not 
finding  his  wife,  he  asked:  "What  is  the  inattei-^  \\'here  is  your 
mother?"  One  of  the  boys  told  him  that  his  mothei-  had  been  gone 
all  day,  and  that,  returning  but  a  short  time  before,  she  liad  ]>ut 
on  her  panlher-skin  I'obe,  declaring  tiiat  she  was  going  away.  Had- 
jowiski hung  his  head,  but  at  last  he  asked.  "  A\'hy  did  she  go  away'" 
Tiie  boy  replied:  "  She  told  us  that  you  liave  another  wife."  To  this 
the  father  answered  :  "  It  is  well.  ^ly  sons,  I  shall  follow  her.  I 
want  you  to  remain  in  the  lodge  while  I  am  aw.-iy.  Jf  I  am  ali\e 
then.  T  will  be  hack  home  in  10  days."  Hadjowiski  depai'ted  and 
ti'a\eled  all  niglit.  The  next  morning  lie  found  his  wife's  ti'acks, 
and  liiscovered  that  she  had  doul)led  on  them,  but  he  kept  straight 
ahead,  knowing  well  that  she  hail  done  this  in  oriler  to  deceive  him. 
Soon  afterward  he  was  again  on  her  trail,  going  directly  westwaid. 
After  tra\i'ling  for  some  time  he  came  at  last  to  a  lodge  in  which 
jived  an  old  man,  who  said:  "  Vou  are  ti'aveling,  my  friend^" 
Hadjowiski  replied:  "  Yes.  I  am  following  the  woman  whose  track's 
come  to  this  lodge."  Tiien  S'hagoiyagent'iia,'^*  for  such  was  the  olil 
man's  name,  who  belonged  to  the  No.sgwais  jx'ople,  answered,  "1 
do  not  know  where  she  has  gone.''  Hadjowiski  again  declarech 
"Her  tracks  come  here,  anyway."  S'hagoiyagentiia  replied:  "It  is 
well.  Vou  can  look  for  her,  if  you  like."  So  Hadjowiski  .searched 
for  her  everywhere,  but  he  could  not  find  lier.  Finally  the  old  man 
resolved  to  semi  him  oil'.  si>  he  askeil  him,  "  Do  you  want  me  to  tell 
you  wliich  way  she  went  from  here  ^  "  Hadjowiski  r(>plied,  ""\'es; 
I  do."  Thereupon  S'hagoiyageiU"ha  brought  a  small  canoe  made  of 
(lint,  telling  the  man  to  sit  in  il.  When  Hadjowiski  had  tlone  so  the 
old  man  sho\ed  the  canoe  out  of  the  iloorway,  and  at  once  it  rose 
into  the  air.  tlirough  which  it  passed  with  great  rapidity.  Finallv 
the  canoe  collided  with  a  high  loclc.  and  the  renegade  Hadjowiski 
was  Hung  out:  falling  among  the  rocks,  he  was  killed.  The  canoe, 
which  was  endowed  with  life,  returiu'd  to  the  old  man. 

When  the  sons  of  Hadjowiski  had  Ijeen  al  home  for  several  da\s 
the  eldest  went  out  to  hunt.      \\'hen  night  came  he  did  not  return  to 


408  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  an.n.  32 

his  home.  So  the  next  morning  the  second  brother  started  off 
to  find  him,  if  possible.  The  brothers  who  remained  at  home  waited 
all  day,  but  he,  too,  failed  to  return.  The  second  moi'ning  the  third 
brotlier  went  to  look  for  the  two  others,  but  he  likewise  did  not  come 
back.  Thus,  day  after  day  passed,  until  at  last  the  six  brothers  had 
gone  out  and  not  one  had  returned.  Only  Deoyadastat'he  was  left  of 
the  family  of  seven  sons.^''''  He- was  always  under  the  bed  playing 
with  his  dog,  which  was  a  flea.  Finally,  judging  from  the  unbroken 
silence  reigning  in  the  lodge,  Deoyadastat'he  exclaimed:  "It  seems 
to  me  that  there  is  no  one  in  the  lodge,  for  I  hear  no  one  moving 
around.  I  sliall  see  about  it."  So  saying,  he  came  forth  from  under 
the  bed  and  looked  around,  but  saw  no  one;  then  he  listened  for 
some  sound,  but  he  heard  none.  After  listening  for  a  long  time, 
he  exclaimed :  "  It  seems  to  me  that  I  hear  my  mother  crying.  It 
must  be  that  she  is  weeping  in  the  far  west.  I  shall  therefore  go 
to  her."  Going  outside  the  lodge,  he  stood  still,  listening,  while 
his  dog  stood  behind  him.  He  now  heard  quite  distinctly  the  sound 
of  weeping  in  the  far  west.  By  low  half-uttered  growls  his  dog 
showed  that  it,  too,  heard  some  imusual  sound. 

Deoj'adastat'he  finally  declared :  "  That  is  my  mother  who  is  weep- 
ing, for  I  recognize  her  voice.  I  must  go  to  her."  As  he  started, 
both  he  and  his  dog,  rising  in  the  air,  flew  along  over  the  highest 
trees,  directing  their  flight  toward  the  west.  At  last  in  the  far  dis- 
tant we.st  the_y  alighted  at  the  edge  of  a  village.  Making  their  way 
into  it,  they  finally  entered  an  old  hut  in  which  the}'  foimd  two 
women,  an  aged  grandmother  and  her  granddaughter.  To  the  grand- 
mother Deoyadastat'he  said,  "  I  have  come  to  visit  you."  She  replied  : 
"  We  are  too  poor  for  that.  We  have  nothing  to  eat,  and  you  would 
get  very  hungry."  "  Oh  I  I  do  not  care  for  food,"  Deoyadastat'he 
answered ;  "  I  want  only  shelter  at  night."  "  It  is  well ;  you  may 
remain,"  said  the  gi'andmotlier.  One  morning  when  Deoyadastat'he 
had  been  there  several  days  some  one  came  on  the  run  to  the  lodge, 
and  kicking  the  door-flap  aside,  said :  "  You  are  invited  tonight  to 
the  burning  of  the  woman's  feet  and  to  pick  up  wampum  beads  from 
the  tears  that  she  sheds.  All  are  pressed  to  be  at  the  lodge  of  assem- 
bly tonight."  ^AHien  the  messenger  had  gone,  the  grandmother  ex- 
claimed: "  Oh  !  how  very  wicked  are  the  people  of  this  village.  That 
old  man,  S'hagoiyagent'ha,  is  the  evil  servant  of  the  Chief  Dihdih.^^" 
(The  rest  of  the  people  belong  to  the  Gaqga^"  family.)"  Now,  the 
grandmother,  whose  name  was  Yeqsinye,  also  belonged  to  the  Gaqga 
family.  She  was  in  the  habit  of  making  bark  thread  by  rolling  it  on 
her  legs.  A^Tren  night  came  Deoyadastat'he  went  to  the  lodge  of  as- 
sembly, where  he  saw  a  great  mult  itude  of  people.  Entering  the  lodge, 
he  saw  his  mother  tied  to  a  post — the  war  post  of  torture.  And  as  soon 
as  Deoyadastat'he  entered  the  room  his  mother,  scenting  him,  knew 


'■;i^r:rr]  LEGENDS  409 

that  he  was  there.  Then  Chict'  Dihdih  arose  and  said:  "Now  all  be 
ready.  Look  out  for  the  beads."'  lie  had  two  daiijjhters,  who 
lighted  the  torches  for  the  peo|)le  who  were  intending  to  l)urn  the 
woman's  feet.  When  they  held  the  torches  under  the  woman's  feet 
tears  flowed  fi-om  her  eyes  which  fell  on  the  gi-onnd,  where  they 
became  beautiful  wampum.  The  i)e<)i)K'  rushed  forwaril  to  pick  up 
the  beads.  Deoyadastat'he  was  watching  for  an  opijortunity  to 
rescue  his  mother:  so  when  the  pe()])le  were  on  their  knees  gathering 
the  wampum,  ijuickly  unbinding  his  mother,  he  led  her  out  of  doors. 
Then  he  said,  as  he  ran  around  the  devoted  lodge,  "Let  this  lodge 
become  iliut  and  let  it  become  at  once  healed  to  a  white  heat."  ■''■  This 
at  once  took  place,  and  the  peoi)le  within  the  lodge,  becoming  too  hot. 
ceased  jiicking  up  wam|)um  and  tried  to  escape,  but  they  coidd  not. 
There  were  feaid'ul  shrieks  and  wails,  but  these  continued  oidy  for  a 
moment  befoi'e  all  were  death  The  heads  of  the  dead  peo]de  burst 
asunder  and  from  them  came  owls,  which  Hew  out  of  the  smoke-hole 
of  the  lodg(>. 

Then  Deoyadastafhe  told  his  mother  that  they  uuisi  lea\e  that 
jilace.  So  calling  his  dog,  they  started  for  the  lodge  of  <ild  \'e(|sinye. 
In  passing  through  the  village  a  blue  lizard  attacked  Deoyadastat'he 
and  his  little  jiarty.  but  the  young  man  tore  it  to  ]iieces.  As  the 
pieces  fell  to  the  ground  the  dog  carried  them  away  so  that  they 
would  not  lly  bade  into  place  again  befoie  they  became  cool.  Then 
the  young  man  said,  "  ^du  tluiuglit  that  you  were  going  to  kill  me. 
but  I  have  destroyed  you."  W'iicu  Deoyailastafhe  arrived  with  his 
mother  at  the  lodge  of  old  wonum  Ye<isinye,  he  said  to  her,  "  1  have 
killed  all  the  peoi)le  of  the  wicked  village,  so  you  shall  now  live  in 
peace."    Foi' this  the  old  woman  thanked  him. 

Then  Deoyadastat'he  and  his  mother  and  dog  continued  their 
journey  until  they  arrived  at  their  own  lodge.  There  they  fouiul  the 
six  brothers  of  Deoyadastafhe,  who  had  retuined  duiing  his  absence. 

[The  relator  of  the  story  evidently  did  not  know  the  entire  legend, 
for  nothing  is  said  as  to  where  and  as  to  why  they  had  been  so  long 
away,  nor  how  they  came  back. — EniToit.] 

74.  X  Vjrsf.sis  Thaimtion 

[A   iiKniprn   version;   a   frn.i-'iin'iit  1 

Before  this  earth  came  into  existence  there  were  human  beings 
who  dwelt  in  the  center  of  the  sky  above.  In  the  middle  of  the  vil- 
lage in  the  sky  stood  a  tree  which  w-as  covered  with  white  l)lossoms. 

It  so  chanced  that  a  woman  of  that  covmtry  dreamed  a  dream.  In 
that  dream  an  Ongwe^'^"  said  to  her  that  the  great  tree  bearing  wl»it<^! 
blossoms  mu.st  be  pulled  up  by  the  roots.  When  this  tree  was  in 
bloom  its  flowers  gave  light  to  the  people  there,  but  when  its  flowers 


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

fell,  darkness  came  over  the  people.  When  the  woman  related  her 
dream  all  the  people  kept  silent,  because  they  felt  that  the  suggestion 
was  that  of  a  visionary  and  because  the  tree  was  sacrexl  to  them.  In 
the  course  of  time  the  woman  dreamed  again,  and  in  the  dream  the 
Ongwe  declared  to  her  that  a  circular  trench  must  be  dug  around 
the  tree,  which  must  be  pulled  up  by  the  roots;  that  then  something 
giving  more  and  better  light  would  come  to  them.  Notwithstanding 
this  second  dream,  the  people  remained  obdurate,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  the  advice  of  the  Ongwe  of  the  dream.  Time  went  on  and 
the  woman  had  a  third  dream,  in  which  the  injunctions  of  the 
other  two  dreams  were  repeated,  that  the  tree  must  be  pulled  up  by 
the  roots.  Then  one  of  the  men  said,  "  I  believe  that  if  we  give  heed 
to  the  words  of  the  dream  we  may  receive  better  light,  and  that  the 
people  will  have  cause  to  rejoice  for  having  obeyed  tlie  words  of 
the  dream."    His  advice  was  adopted  by  the  people  at  large. 

80  a  number  of  men  began  digging  and  cutting  around  the  roots 
of  the  tree.  Suddenl}',  when  the  last  root  was  cut,  the  tree  sank  into 
the  ground,  disappearing  from  sight.  Thereupon  the  chief  of  the 
people  there  said,  "  I  have  never  given  any  heed  to  this  dream,  be- 
cause I  knew  that  something  strange  would  happen  to  the  people  if 
1  did.''  Then  he  ordereil  that  the  woman  who  had  had  these  dreams 
should  be  cast  into  the  hole  left  by  the  tree.  The  order  was  carried 
out.  The  pit  seemed  to  have  no  bottum.  Nothing  could  be  seen  in 
it,  for  all  was  darkness  within.  The  woman  continued  falling 
thi-ough  the  hole  for  a  long  time;  at  last  she  saw  that  below  her  it 
began  to  grow  light.  When  finally  she  had  passed  through  the  hole 
she  emerged  into  bright  light  in  our  sky.  Looking  down,  she  saw- 
beneath  her  a  great  expanse  of  water,  on  which  floated  loons,  ducks, 
and  various  kinds  of  water  folk,  but  no  land. 

Of  these  the  loon  was  the  first  to  see  the  dark  object  falling  from 
above,  at  which  he  exclaimed,  "1  believe  that  a  human  being  is  fall- 
ing down  from  atiove,  and  I  think  that  it  is  best  for  us  that  all  join 
together  and  give  aid  to  her,  for  if  we  do  not  she  will  sink  when  she 
strikes  the  water."'  So  all  the  water  folk  were  notified  to  help  save 
the  woman.  They  all  can)e  together — Loon,  Fishhawk,  Beaver, 
Water  Serpent.  Turtle,  and  all  who  dwell  in  the  water.  Then  Loon 
said  to  Fishhawk,  "  Go  with  yt>ur  warriors  and  meet  the  woman  in 
the  air:  receive  her  on  your  back's,  and  thus  hold  her  in  the  air  until 
we  shall  be  ready  for  you  to  bring  her  down  here."  Instantly  this 
request  was  performed.  While  the  others  watched  they  saw  the 
woman  fall  on  the  backs  of  the  fishhawks.  and  they  were  delighted  to 
see  that  the  fishhawks  were  able  to  hold  her  in  the  air.  Then  the 
Loon  said,  "  \\'hi.t  are  wc  going  to  do  with  her?  ''  to  which  the  Turtle 
rei)lied,  "  I  will  take  care  of  the  woman."'  But  Loon  answered,  "  You 
can  not  take  lare  of  her,  for  you  are  too  fond  of  eating  flesh."     Next 


1^;^i]  LEGENDS  411 

till'  Water  Serjiciit  said.  "  I  will  vdlunteei-  to  help  tliis  woman  a.nl 
to  take  care  of  her;  she  can  conic  and  sit  between  my  horns,  and  so  I 
shall  carry  her  wherever  I  go."  Loon  i-ejoined.  "  Yoii  can  not  take 
care  of  her.  foi-  you  ai'c  endowed  with  too  much  c\'il  oi'enda  (mafric 
power),  wiiicli  would  kill  her."  The  Turtle  spoke  a  second  time, 
sayinfr.  "  1  tliiuk  1  can  rare  foi-  her.  if  yon  can  find  some  eartli  to 
place  u])on  my  raraiJUce."  This  su>rij;esti()n  satisfviiiff  Loon  and  the 
other  leaders.  Loon  rei)lied.  "  \  lui  may  take  care  of  her  if  we  can 
(/htaiii  the  earth."'  There  weri'  there  many  kinds  of  water  folk,  all 
of  which  were  sent  into  the  watt'i-  in  an  attempt  to  obtain  some  earth. 
'I'hey  dived  down,  but,  one  alter  another,  they  soon  tloated  up  to  the 
surface  ilcad.  Hell-diver  at  last  brou<xht  up  a  small  (|uautity  of 
earth.  The  Loon  bei.ig  the  chief,  when  IIell-di\er  came  up  with  the 
earth  he  sent  all  of  that  kind  of  water  folk  after  more  earth.  Then 
Beaver  moimted  on  Turtle's  back,  and  as  the  Duck  ])eo|ile  broufrlit  up 
the  earth  he  used  his  tad  like  a  trowel,  fastening  the  earth  on  the 
carapace  of  the  Tiutle. 

The  earth  at  once  began  to  grow,  s])reading  out  large.  Chief  Loon 
soon  decided  that  it  had  acquired  a  sullicient  extent  for  theii'  pur- 
p().se,  so  he  called  to  the  Fishhawk  and  his  men  to  biing  down  the 
woman.  This  they  did,  ])lacing  her  on  the  newly  made  eartli  on  the 
carapace  of  the  Turtle.  In  the  meantime  Beaver  and  the  l)u(k  peo- 
])le  kept  at  work  making  the  earth  largei-.  -Vs  it  grew  in  size,  a  still 
greater  number  of  Bea\er  and  Duck  people  were  set  to  work  around 
the  edges  of  it.  The  'I'urtle  floated  with  ease.  Tlien  on  the  earth 
bushes  Ix'gan  to  grow,  little  red  bushes  like  watei-  reeds.  'I'lie  woman 
walked  around  tiie  edges  of  the  earth  to  see  how  the  woikers  were 
succeeding  in  their  labors  and  to  encourage  them.  She  wa>  jiregnant. 
and  in  a  short  time  after  this  descent  a  girl  baby  was  born  to  her. 
The  child  gi'ew  rapidly  to  womanhood.  She  was  vei-y  actixe,  and 
soon  took  her  mother's  place,,  walking  around  the  island  ins])ectinir 
its  growth.  It  was  now  very  large,  and  she  would  be  away  all  day 
on  her  tour  of  the  island. 

One  day  it  chanced  as  she  was  walking  along  that  she  met  a  \erv 
line  looking  young  man.  Prom]itly  falling  in  love,  they  decided  to 
li\('  together  as  husband  and  wife.  Tt  is  said  that  by  this  union 
Day  and  Night  came  into  tlie  world.  Her  mother  was  not  consulted. 
It  was  the  custom  of  the  young  woman  to  go  out  in  the  morning  to 
look  for  the  young  man  at  their  tiysting  place,  and  in  the  evening 
to  start  for  home.  One  evening  when  they  had  parted  she  resolved 
to  look  back  to  have  a  view  of  him.  On  turning  aroimd.  she  saw  a 
large  turtle  walking  along  where  she  knew  her  husband  had  just 
l)een.  hence  she  reached  the  conclusion  that  a  turtle  was  deceiving 
lier;  then  she  went  home.  The  next  day  she  remained  at  home  and, 
indeed,  did  not  so  out  anv  more  after  that  time.     Iler  mother  saw 


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

from  her  appearance  that  she  was  pregnant.  Being  questioned 
about  her  condition,  she  told  her  mother  the  whole  story  of  her 
marriage,  concluding  with  the  statement  that  the  last  time  they 
had  met  she  had  turned  to  look  at  him  as  they  parted,  whereupon 
she  saw  only  a  great  turtle  walking  where  she  expected  to  see  her 
husband. 

The  time  for  her  confinement  having  arrived,  the  prospective 
mother  heard  a  conversation  being  carried  on  within  her  body.  One 
speaker  said:  "Let  us  go  out  now,"  but  the  other  replied:  "  You  go 
first,  and  I  will  follow  you."  Then  she  heard  one  say,  "  Let  us  go 
out  by  the  way  of  the  armpit,  for  I  see  a  little  light  there,"  but  the 
other  answered,  "No;  we  should  kill  our  mother  in  doing  so." 
P'inally,  one  came  into  the  world  in  the  natural  way,  but  .she  heard 
the  one  who  was  left  say,  "I  am  going  out  through  the  armpit,  for 
I  can  go  quicker  in  that  way."  This  statement  he  repeated  a  number 
of  times,  and  at  la.st  he  tried  to  issue  through  the  armpit  witli  his 
head.  Twice  he  failed,  but  the  third  time  he  succeeded,  although  his 
mother  died  immediately.  He  posse.ssed  a  peculiar  head,  in  the  form 
of  a  rough  flint.  The  grandmother  had  to  draw  this  child  out  of  his 
mother's  body,  for  he  could  not  get  out  unaided.  Both  children 
lived. 

Before  the  twins  were  born,  while  they  were  conversing  in  her 
body,  the  woman  told  her  mother  that  she  was  going  to  die  and  that 
slie  should  be  buried  and  covered  well  with  earth.  She  said  further 
that  a  stalk  would  sprout  out  of  the  ground  over  her  which  would 
produce  white  corn;  that  a  second  stalk  would  grow  which  would 
produce  red  corn;  that  one  of  these  stalks  would  grow  from  each  of 
her  breasts ;  and  that  each  stalk  would  bear  an  ear  of  corn,  which  the 
grandmother  must  pluck,  giving  one  to  each  of  the  children.  A  short 
time  after  her  biu-ial  the  two  stallis  appeared  above  the  ground,  just 
as  she  had  foretold. 

The  boys  grew  up  strong  and  healthy,  Init  the  younger  was  an 
awkward,  ugly,  disagreeable  fellow;  he  was  ill-tempered,  often  strik- 
ing his  brother  in  anger. 

One  day  while  the  elder  brother  was  away,  the  younger  one  became 
lonely,  so  he  decided  to  make  something.  Seating  himself  on  the 
ground,  from  a  portion  of  earth  he  formed  an  object  which  was  in 
shape  like  a  grasshopper.  After  he  had  finished  it.  he  set  it  down, 
saying,  "Can  you  not  jump?"  Then  he  blew  on  it  until  at  last  the 
grasshopper  did  jump.  As  the  grasshopper  flew  away,  the  youth 
decided  to  try  to  make  a  creature  that  would  fly  higher.  So  he  made 
a  bird  of  red  claj',  which  is  the  cherry  bird.  After  he  had  finished  it 
he  set  it  up,  telling  it  to  fly.  Obeying  him,  the  bird  flew  up  in  the 
air,  alighting  on  a  bough.  This  was  the  first  land  bird.  Thus  the 
youth  made  one  after  another  all  the  birds  of  the  air.     Then  he  re- 


CURT 
HEWl 


l^i]  LEGENDS  413 


solved  to  make  a  cieatiii-e  that  would  run  on  the  pmund.  So  form- 
ing a  deer  out  of  eartli.  ho  l)rou<;lit  it  to  life.  Thereupon,  saying  to  it, 
"  Now  you  shall  run  swiftly  and  go  everyw-here  around  the  world." 
he  caused  the  deer  to  li\e  by  Mowing  u|)on  it.  In  this  manner  he 
made  all  the  various  Uinds  of  wild  animals,  and  also  formed  a  human 
being  out  of  the  earth. 

The  elder  bi-other  had  a  chosen  place  where  he  sat  wliile  making 
these  things.  Wiien  he  formed  the  human  being,  liis  brother  chanced 
to  find  him.  Then  the  younger  brother,  deciding  that  he,  too,  would 
form  a  human  being,  went  otf  by  himself.  Having  formed  a  human 
being  as  best  he  could,  he  brought  his  creation  to  life.  l)ut  it  did  not 
look  like  the  human  being  his  brother  iiad  formed:  it  was  a  strange 
looking  creature.  Wlien  he  saw  that  it  was  not  a  human  being,  but 
an  ugly-looking  object,  he  said:  "My  brother  has  made  a  human 
being  over  there ;  you  may  eat  the  htiman  being  made  by  my  lirother." 

The  eldei-  brother.  susi)ecting  the  younger,  went  near  him  and 
fount!  him  making  animals  of  various  kinds,  and  he  also  heard  him 
instructing  them  to  eat  human  beings.  So.  going  back  to  his  own 
place,  the  elder  brother  caught  the  ciierry  liird.  and  [lulling  out  the 
hind  leg  of  a  grasshoppei'.  he  gave  it  to  tiie  bird,  saying.  "  ( ro  and 
scare  my  brother."  As  the  bird  held  the  leg  it  became  in  form  like 
that  of  a  human  being  and  bloody.  Flying  near  the  younger 
brother,  the  bird  perched  on  a  near-by  bough  and  began  to  cry  out, 
"  Gowe!  Gove'.'''  When  the  younger  brother  saw  what  the  bird  cai-- 
ried  and  heard  wiiat  it  ci'ied.  he  left  his  work  and  Hed  home  to  his 
grandmother,  to  whom  he  said:  "A  bird  came  and  perched  just 
where  I  was  at  work.  I  l)elieve  my  brother  made  it  to  frighten  me, 
for  I  was  afraid  that  it  would  pull  my  leg  out.  so  I  fled  from  thei-e." 
When  the  ekler  brothei-  retui-ned  the  grandmother  said,  "  You  should 
not  frighten  your  brother." 

Finding  that  the  first  human  being  made  was  wandei-ing  around 
alone,  the  elder  brother  decided  to  make  a  companion  for  him  in  the 
foiin  of  his  grandmother.  So  he  did  this,  and  when  the  new  being 
was  finished  he  breathed  into  her.  telling  her  to  walk,  and  then  he 
took  her  to  the  man,  saying  to  him:  "  I  give  you  her.  You  must  al- 
ways go  together."  During  the  night  the  human  beings  found  that 
one  of  the  man's  arms  and  one  of  the  woman"s  were  in  the  way.  so  the 
man  said.  "  We  will  cut  them  off."  and  this  they  did.  When  their 
n)aker  came  along  in  the  morning  and  saw  what  they  had  done  he 
said  : ''  This  will  not  do.  I  shall  give  them  blf)od  and  pain  ";  '■'"^  so  from 
himself  he  gave  them  a  portion  of  blood  and  a  measuie  of  jiain.  He 
also  put  back  the  arms  which  tluy  had  severed  from  their  bodies. 
Before  this  they  had  no  blood  nor  pain.  To  the  man  lie  said:  "I 
have  made  y()u  two.  and  now  you  shall  haxc  childi'cn  like  yourselves. 
You  mav  also  Inuit  the  aninuds  which   1   lia\e  nuide  for  food.     Kill 


414  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  axn.  32- 

them  and  eat  their  flesh:  this  will  be  your  food.  I  have  decided  to 
go  above  in  the  sky.  You  will  not  live  here  forever.  You  shall  die. 
and  your  spirit  shall  come  up  to  me  where  I  will  live  hereafter.'' 
After  the  younger  i)iother  found  that  the  elder  brother  had  gone  up 
into  the  sky  he  went  forth  and,  seeing  the  man  and  the  woman,  he 
talked  with  them.  Then  he  said  to  himself,  "I  am  going  to  make  a 
human  being  at  any  cost."  So.  taking  earth,  he  shaped  it  as  best  he 
could ;  and  when  it  was  completed  he  blew  into  its  mouth  and  or- 
dered it  to  arise  and  whoop.  Thereupon  it  shouted,  "Ho.  hoi"  He 
dioved  it  from  behind  and  it  took  a  great  leap.  It  was  a  green  frog 
which  was  as  huge  as  a  man.  The  younger  brother  was  now  angry 
and  said :  "  I  can  not  make  a  man.  My  brother  has  made  a  human 
being  and  she-human  being  and  many  animals,  ilay  what  I  have 
made  become  man-eaters  and  eaters  of  animals — eaters  of  whatever 
my  brother  has  made." 

The  elder  Inother,  looking  down  from  the  sky,  saw  that  all  the 
animals  which  his  brother  had  maile  were  trying  to  eat  up  the  human 
beings  and  the  animals  which  he  had  made.  So  he  placed  all  these 
monsters  of  his  brother's  creation  down  in  the  ground  and  ordered, 
them  to  stay  thei'e  so  long  as  the  earth  remained.  Having  done  this, 
he  retui-ned  to  his  home  in  the  sky. 

AVhen  the  younger  brother  learned  that  his  animals  had  been 
placed  underground  by  his  brother,  he  was  very  angry,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  I  shall  try  again  to  make  a  human  being."  So  he  worked 
a  portion  of  clay  to  make  it  jiliable  and  responsive,  going  at  times 
to  take  a  look  at  the  human  being  which  his  brother  had  nuide.  But 
when  his  own  h'lman  being  was  finished  and  he  had  brought  him  to 
life,  he  was  indeed  a  horrid-looking  creature.  The  younger  brother 
told  him  to  whoop,  but  he  could  only  say.  "Ho,  ho!  "  This  creature 
was  Siiagodiyoweqgowa,  who  was  told,  by  the  younger  brother  to  go 
anil  eat  uj)  all  the  things  that  his  elder  brother  had  made.  S'hagodiyo- 
weqgowa  staitjcd  off  to  do  this. 

The  elder  brother  in  the  sky.  seeing  what  was  going  on.  came  down 
to  earth  to  place  Siiagodiyowe(]gowa  under  the  grountl.  But  the  lat- 
ter spoke  first,  saying:  "  I  desire  to  live  on  the  earth.  I  will  be  your 
servant  and  will  help  you.  I  will  go  around  in  the  woods  and  rocky 
places.  The  ashes  of  the  fii'es  shall  be  my  medicine  for  human  beings. 
Should  anyone  be  taken  ill.  1  will  scatter  ashes  over  the  patient,  who 
^hall  bi'  made  well  at  once."  The  elder  brother  could  not  i)ut  Siiago- 
(liyowe(|gowa  underground,  for  he  had  s]ioken  first,  so  he  had  to 
allow  him  to  remain  on  the  sui'face  of  the  earth. 

Now,  the  younger  biother.  goi!ig  to  his  grandmother,  said  :  "  I  have 
tried  my  best  to  make  a  human  being,  but  have  failed.  I  shall  now 
cause  people  to  be  evil-minded.     1  shall  go  away  and  shall  have  a 


'nVivni]  LEGENDS  415 

home.  too.    And  all  tlie  ex  il  pcoplo  who  die  shall  come  to  me  and  I 
.siiall  torment  them  hecause  I  cmdd  not  make  a  hmnan  beinj^." 

If  one  who  is  good  shall  die.  he  shall  go  to  the  elder  bi-other,  in  his 

honie  in  the  sky. 

7").    riii;  Two   l)i;i)riir.i:s  and    riii;  Mu  i;    I"i;i  isiir.s 

In  times  past  there  lived  two  hfotliccs  in  a  lodge  wiiich  was  Imih  in 
a  secluded  place  in  the  forest. 

Most  of  the  time  the  eUh'r  l)rotlier  was  lying  down  in  oi<ler  to 
mature  some  design  wiiirh  lie  was  de\elo|)ing  in  liis  unnd.  l'"rom 
time  to  time  he  woidd  say  to  his  l)rother:  "Now,  niv  Nounirer 
brother,  he  \erv  careful  of  e\ervthing.  and  he  on  youi'  guard  agtiinst 
tiie  evil  that  others  may  try  to  do  u>.  Whenever  some  ])ei>(>n  ((inies 
have  to  see  us,  remember  what  I  am  now  telling  you.  .\nd  do  not 
forget  that  under  my  bed,  in  a  M'crct  place,  are  a  human  >kull  and 
some  other  sacred  things,  which  it  is  not  [Udpcr  for  you  to  show  any 
other  person."' 

Some  time  aftei'wai'd  two  young  women  came  to  tlu'  lodtre  of  the 
two  bri'thiTs  to  look  around  m  order  to  learn  what  the  two  young 
men  had.  .Vfter  showing  them  ma.ny  things,  the  younger  lirother 
said.  '■  1  uuist  tell  you  that  there  aie  some  things  which  are  sacred, 
and  wliieh.  tlierefoi'e.  1  cannot  show  you."  Hut  after  a  while,  as 
liie  two  women  appeareil  to  be  so  kind  and  agreeable,  and  ^o  much 
])leased  with  whnt  they  had  seen,  ami  as  tlu'v  shyly  pli'aded  to  be 
shown  the  things  which  the  younger  brother  said  he  was  not  at 
liberty  to  show,  at  last  yiidding.  he  i)rought  out  the  human  >kull. 
Snatching  it  out  of  the  young  man"s  hands,  one  of  the  young  women 
Hew  away  (|uickly,  while  the  othei'  followed  her  at  once.  Thereupon 
the  elder  brother  said,  "  Now.  you  nnist  chase  these  women  with  the 
corn-i)onn<ler  and  see  wliether  oi-  not  you  can  overtake  them."  .^^o  he 
I'aii  after  them  with  the  eiirn-])ounder.  and  soon  ovci'taking  them, 
pouiKJed  them  to  death:  then  he  eaiaicd  the  skull  back  to  his  elder 
brother.  The  latter  asked  him.  •"liavc  you  recovered  the  skull?'' 
The  younger  brother  replied.  "  '>'es.  and  I  ha\e  also  killed  the 
women." 

Not  long  afterward,  two  other  young  woineil  came  to  the  lodii'c  to 
see  what  the  brotliers  had  that  was  curious.  The  youimer  brother 
showed  them  \arious  common  ai'ticle.s,  but  the  women  said  that 
these  were  Tiot  (he  aitieles  they  wanted  to  see.  Finally  he  showed 
them  the  human  ~kull.  at  which  one  of  the  women,  snatching  the 
skull  away  from  the  young  man.  flew  out  of  the  smokediole.  the  other 
woman  following  iier  at  once.  When  the  younger  brothel'  cried  out  at 
what  they  had  done,  the  eliler  brothei-  told  him  to  bring  his  bow  and 
(]uiver  of  arrows.  Tlie  younger  instantly  obeyed,  whereujiou  the 
elder  brother  shot  an  ai'iow  up  through  the  smokediole. 


416  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  (etii.  ann.  sz 

Some  time  after  the  woman  had  taken  the  skull  away,  the  elder 
brother  told  the  younger  that  he  was  going  to  the  place  to  which  the 
women  had  caiTied  it.  While  on  the  way  there  the  elder  brother 
asked  himself  the  question,  "How  shall  I  disguise  myself?"  He 
finally  concluded  to  transform  himself  into  an  aged  man;  so,  making 
the  necessary  change,  he  became  a  wretched-looking  old  man.  On 
his  journey  he  reached  at  last  a  place  where  there  was  a  large  as- 
sembly of  people,  some  of  whom  came  to  him,  saying,  "  We  will  aid 
you  " ;  but  he  replied,  "  I  do  not  want  to  mingle  with  the  crowd,  for 
I  am  too  old  to  do  so;  but  I  shall  lie  down  a  little  way  from  the 
assembly."  While  lying  there  he  discovered  what  he  wanted — 
information  concerning  the  woman  who  had  carried  off  the  skull. 
He  learned  that  she  was  there,  and  that  she  was  ill  and  suffering  gre  \t 
agony.  On  inquiring  cas;iall\'  what  was  the  trouble  with  the  woman, 
he  ascertained  from  another  woman  that  she  had  been  shot  with  an 
arrow,  which  was  still  in  her  body,  and  that  no  one  had  been  found 
who  could  draw  it  out.  She  was  in  terrible  distress  from  it.  Every 
one  in  the  assemblage  was  asked  to  attempt  to  draw  out  the  arrow, 
but  no  one  was  able  to  do  it.  Finally,  the  pretended  old  man  was 
asked  to  make  a  trial  of  his  power  and  reluctantly  consented  to  make 
the  attempt;  but  he  only  feigned  to  be  averse  to  performing  this  act. 
So,  bearing  him  to  the  place  where  the  woman  lay  in  a  lodge,  t^ey 
brought  her  on  a  piece  of  skin  and  laid  her  near  him.  Thereupon  the 
old  man,  seizing  the  arrow  with  his  teeth,  drew  it  otit  little  by  little. 
At  this,  some  who  stood  by,  exclaiming  that  it  was  almost  out,  seized 
the  arrow  to  extract  it  the  more  (juickly,  but  it  shot  back  into  the 
woman's  body  as  soon  as  they  had  touched  it.  With  one  accord  they 
exclaimed,  "  We  are  sorry  for  what  we  have  done."  Seizing  it  with 
his  teeth,  the  old  man  again  drew  the  arrow  slowly  forth.  Each  time 
that  he  stopped  to  rest  he  cautioned  the  people  with  the  words :  "  Do 
not  touch  it.  Keep  your  hands  off  of  it."  Then  he  would  say,  "  I 
will  try  again."  After  a  while  he  got  the  arrow  out.  Then  he  said, 
"This  is  my  arrow."     The  woman  arose  from  the  skin  and  was  well. 

The  old  man  was  taken  back  to  the  spot  where  he  had  lain  in  the 
first  place,  although  the  people  asked  him  to  enter  .some  lodge.  He 
told  them,  however,  that  he  preferred  to  remain  outside  in  the  place 
which  he  had  first  chosen.  They  brought  him  food  and  drink.  Now, 
the  woman  who  was  cured  went  to  her  own  lodge. 

Then  the  old  man  asked  the  people  to  make  him  a  present  of  corn, 
bean,  and  squash  seed,  which  he  desired  to  plant  the  next  spring. 
So  they  brought  to  him  the  seed  carefully  wrapped  in  a  skin.  But 
he  did  not  leave  the  place  where  he  first  lay  down.  After  a  while 
he  opened  the  bimdle  and,  calling  the  mice,  said :  "  Little  creatures, 
here  is  enough  for  you  to  eat.  I  desire  to  have  you  dig  a  tunnel 
underground  to  that  woman's  lodge,  so  that  you  may  go  under  her 


HEwri^]  LEGENDS  417 

bed  and  <;et  a  skull  which  is  there.  Seize  it  and  bring  it  through 
the  tunnel  to  me."  Shortly  an  army  of  mice  came  to  eat  the  coi'n, 
beans,  and  s(|uash  seed.  AVhen  they  had  finished  eating  they  began 
to  tunnel,- and  they  did  not  cease  their  work  until  they  had  made  a 
hole  through  the  ground  to  the  lodge.  There  they  found  the  skull, 
which  they  drew  out  slowly.  Then  the  old  man  stealthily  crept  to 
the  place  where  they  Inul  left  the  skull,  and.  taking  it,  after  dismiss- 
ing the  mit'C  with  thanks,  he  started  homeward.  lie  had  told  the 
mice  to  eat  all  they  desired,  and  so  they  did  eat  what  they  could  in 
the  lodge.  As  soon  as  the  pretended  old  man  was  out  of  sight  of 
the  lodge,  he  again  became  a  young  man.  Turning  toward  the  vil- 
lage, he  spoke  a  curse  upon  it,  saying,  "  Let  fire  break  out  and  destroy 
all  that  belongs  to  that  wicked  woman,  the  lodges,  and  the  people." 
Instantly  the  whole  was  in  ihimcs  and  was  soon  entirely  consumed. 
Then  the  young  man  resumed  his  journey  toward  home.  When  he 
arrived  there  he  said:  "Now,  my  brother,  after  much  trouble  I  have 
reco\>:'ied  this  skull;  so  do  not  permit  any  person  to  see  it  again.  I 
have  destroyed  with  fire  the  entire  village  and  substance  of  that 
wicked  woman.  Hereafter  we  may  live  in  peace  and  contentment. 
So  heed  my  words." 

76.  The  Orphan 

In  times  past,  in  a  certain  village  of  the  Seneca  there  was  an 
orphan  boy,  about  si.xteen  years  of  age,  who  went  around  among  the 
people,  going  from  lodge  to  lodge  to  live  on  the  charity  of  owners, 
and  living  wherever  people  were  willing  to  keep  him.  Sometimes  he 
slept  by  a  brush  fire  on  the  ground  and  ate  whatever  was  gi\en  to 
liim. 

When  the  youth  was  about  twenty  years  old  he  was  .still  as  much  a 
boy  as  ever.  A  chief  who  was  very  rich  lived  in  the  same  village. 
He  had  a  daughter  and  two  or  three  sons.  One  day  the  boy  stopjied 
near  the  chief's  lodge,  where  they  were  burning  brush.  One  of  the 
chief's  sons  came  out  and  said  to  him,  "Oh,  my  friend!  bow  long 
have  you  been  here?"  "  Xot  long."  said  the  orphan  boy.  "Well, 
do  you  not  feel  poor  and  lonely  sitting  as  you  do?"  was  the  ne.xt 
question.  "No;  I  feel  just  as  rich  as  you  do."  replied  the  orphan. 
"  Do  you  sometimes  think  that  you  would  like  (o  have  a  wife?  "  asked 
the  young  man.  "  Yes;  I  sometimes  think  that  I  should  like  to  have 
one  if  I  could  get  one,"  answered  the  orphan.  "  VV^ell.  what  would 
you  think  of  my  sister  for  a  wife?  Many  men  have  tried  to  marry 
her,  but  she  has  refused  all."  "Oh!  "  said  the  orphan  boy.  looking 
up,  "I  should  as  soon  have  her  as  anyone  else;  she  is  handsome  and 
rich."  "  I  will  go  and  ask  her,"  said  the  young  man.  thinkiuij  that  he 
would  have  fun  with  his  sister.  Entering  the  lodge,  he  said  to  her: 
94G15°— 18 27 


418  SEVECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [etu.  ann.  32 

"  There  is  a  young  man  out  here  who  says  he  would  like  to  marry 
you.  Will  you  have  him?  "  "  Why,  yes  I  I  would  rather  marry  him 
than  anyone  else,"  she  replied.  "  Shall  I  tell  him  so '.  "  her  In-other 
persisted.  "Yes,"  she  answered.  Thereupon  he  told  the  orpi'.an  boy, 
who  said.  "I  shall  be  glad  to  marry  your  sister  anil  Ine  with  her." 
The  brother  in  fun  repeated  this  to  his  sister,  who  sftid,  '' 1  will  go 
myself  and  ask  him."  She  asked  the  or]iluin,  "What  did  my  brother 
tell  you  about  me?  "  He  told  her  everjlhing.  She  then  said  :  ''  1  will 
live  with  you  as  your  wife.  Come  tomorrow  night  at  this  time  and  1 
will  take  you  for  my  husband."  The  next  morning  she  hunted  u]) 
leggings  anil  moccasins  for  the  orphan  boy.  As  was  the  custom  with 
youths,  he  had  never  worn  moccasins  in  summer.  The  young  woman 
made  ready  everything  for  him.  In  the  evening  she  went  to  the 
meeting  place,  where  she  found  him.  She  brought  water  with  which 
he  washed  himself;  he  then  jint  on  the  garments  and  she  tied  u]i  his 
hair.  This  time  she  told  him  to  come  to  her  home  and  to  go  straight 
to  her  bed,  witiiout  talking  with  any  of  the  men.  because  one  of  her 
brothers  was  always  playing  tricks.  He  did  as  he  was  told.  The 
waggish  brotlier  looked  at  him  and  laughed,  and  calling  him  l\v  name, 
said,  "Come  and  sleep  with  me." 

In  the  fall  the  sons  of  the  chief  were  ready  to  go  on  a  deer  hunt. 
and  the  young  married  woman  thought  that  she,  too.  would  like  to 
go,  inasmuch  as  she  had  a  youthful  husband,  who,  ]3erhaps,  would 
become  a  good  hunter.  The  husband  said.  "Yes;  I  will  go  and  try," 
for  he  had  never  hunted.  Wlien  they  had  traveled  some  distance. 
they  camped  and  liegan  hunting.  The  husband,  having  found  a 
place  where  there  were  wild  grape  vines,  made  a  swing.  There  he 
swung  all  day.  never  hunting,  as  the  others  did.  At  night  he  would 
go  home  without  game,  but  he  did  not  tell  what  he  had  seen  in 
the  woods.  The  brothers  killed  many  deer.  One  day  one  said  to 
the  otlver:  "Our  brother-in-law  gets  no  game."  The  other  replied; 
"Perhaps  he  does  not  hunt."  So  the}'  agreed  to  watch.  On  follow- 
ing him,  they  found  him  swinging,  and  they  noticed  that  the  ground 
was  worn  smooth  around  the  swing.  Thereupon  they  said:  "We 
will  not  live  with  this  man  and  feed  him.  AVe  will  leave  hiiu  and 
camp  a  day's  journey  away."  So  they  started,  leaving  the  man  and 
Moman  only  one  piece  of  venison. 

'J"he  boy  never  ate  much,  so  his  wife  had  most  of  the  meat.  AA'hen 
all  was  eaten  she  began  to  fear  starvation.  One  day  while  the  boy 
was  swinging  he  saw  a  great  horned  owl  alight  in  a  tree  near  by- 
Having  shot  it,  he  put  the  body  under  the  swing,  where  he  could 
look  at  it  as  he  swung.  His  wife  was  getting  \ei-y  hungry,  and 
when  he  went  home  that  night  she  said,  "If  I  iiave  nothing  to  eat 
tomorrow,  perhaps  I  shall  be  unable  to  get  up ;  you  ought  to  kill  some- 


CUHTI 
HKW 


Jl^]  LEGENDS  ^  419 


thing.''  "Well,  iiiaylii'  (omori'ow  I  sliall  kill  something."  replied  the 
orj)haii. 

Tiie  next  day  he  went  as  usual  to  the  swing.  A\'hile  swinging  he 
heard  a  sound  like  the  crying  of  a  woman.  He  was  frightened  and 
stopped  swinging.  Soon  he  saw  a  female  panther  eoiiiing  toward 
him  witii  tiiree  ciiljs.  As  they  ajiproached  he  heai'd  a  great  noise  in 
the  north,  the  direction  fioiu  whicii  tiic  pantliers  had  (■(ime,  and  a 
Dagwanoenyent  appeared,  tearing  down  all  the  trees  in  his  path. 
He  .stojiped  on  a  tree  near  the  swing.  "There  I  you  know  wiiat  harm 
you  have  done,"  said  the  Dagwanoenyent.  (The  old  ])antiier  and 
cubs  had  lieen  in  Dagwanoenyent's  lodge  on  the  rorks  and  had  run 
away.)  "  \\'iiy  are  you  so  angry  at  the  panthers ?  "  asked  the  young 
man ;  "  what  have  they  done  to  you  '.  "  "  They  have  torn  up  my  best 
feather  cap,""  replied  Dagwanoenyent.  '' AViiat  makes  you  think  so 
nmch  of  your  cap^  It  must  be  very  line.""  said  the  orphan.  '"  Yes; 
it  was  line."  leplied  Dagwanoenyent.  "Of  what  kind  of  skin  was  it 
made^"  was  the  ne.xt  question,  "ft  was  made  of  the  skin  of 
a  horned  owl,""  said  the  Dagwanoenyent.  "  ^^'hat  woukl  yt)U  think 
if  I  gave  you  aiuitlier  one?  "'  queried  the  orphan.  "  IIow  can  you  get 
one?"  asked  Dagwanoenyent.  (Joing  to  the  fofit  of  the  tree,  the 
young  man  tossed  up  the  owl  which  he  had  killed.  The  wind  had 
stopped  blowing  as  soon  as  Dagwanoenyent  lighted  on  the  tree.  The 
old  mother  panther  stood  at  hand,  listejiing  to  what  Dagwanoenyent 
and  tiie  young  nuin  said  to  each  other.  As  he  tossed  U[)  the  owl, 
Dagwanoenyent  caught  it  and  said.  "I  tliank  you:  this  is  better 
than  the  old  one;""  so  saying  he  flew  away.  Tiie  i)aiitlier  thanked 
the  young  man,  saying:  "I  am  very  glad  you  had  this  owl.  You 
have  saved  my  life  and  the  lives  of  my  children:  now  1  will  try  to 
helj)  you.  (to  to  that  knoll  yonder,  and  just  l)eiiind  it  you  w  ill  see 
a  cou])le  of  buck  deer  fighting.  You  must  tiT  to  ]\'ill  botii.  The  one 
you  shoot  first  will  not  run:  they  will  Hgjit  until  they  die.""  Running 
over  to  the  knoll,  the  orphan  found  the  two  bucks  and  killed  both. 
Taking  a  large  piece  of  the  veni.son.  he  went  home  to  his  wife,  foi'  she 
was  almost  starved  to  death.  ''I  have  brought  you  meat,"  said  the 
husband.  "I  have  killed  two  buck  deer  today."  Jumjiing  up,  she 
threw  the  venison  on  the  fire  to  broil,  and  hardly  waited  for  it  to 
cook  before  she  began  to  eat  it.  The  young  man  and  his  wife  dragged 
the  two  deer  home,  and  having  skinned  and  di-essed  them,  had 
plenty  of  venison.  'I"he  young  woman  also  dried  the  meat  and 
tanned  the  skins.  The  jianther  told  the  orphan  that  now  he  must 
hunt,  and  that  he  mu.st  never  swing,  because  he  would  kill  much  game. 

A\'hen  they  had  a  great  deal  of  meat  the  young  man  said  :  "  I 
should  go  to  see  your  brothers  now.  I'robably  they  have  a  large 
quantity  of  meat,  for  they  are  good  hunters."     He  started  on  his 


420  V     SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  a-sn.  32 

journey,  which  took  an  entire  day.  Having  killed  a  deer  on  the  way, 
he  carried  along  the  venison.  He  found  the  lodge  of  his  brothers- 
in-law,  which  looked  very  desolate.  Peeping  in,  he  saw  all  the 
brothers,  who  appeared  weak  and  miserable ;  so  he  walked  in,  saying, 
"  How  are  you,  ray  brothers-in-law  ?  "  One  said,  "  There  is  our 
brother-in-law."  They  answered,  "  We  are  nearly  starved ;  we  have 
found  nothing  to  kill."  "  Well,"  was  the  response,  "  we  have  plenty 
at  our  place.  Come  and  live  with  us.  I  have  meat  here  on  ray  back. 
Eat  and  then  go  with  rae."  Thereupon  he  gave  them  the  venison, 
which  they  ate  alraost  raw.  The  food  made  them  strong,  so  they 
started  with  hun  for  his  home. 

The  young  man  got  home  very  quickly  and  told  his  wife,  "  Your 
brothers  are  badly  off;  they  are  worse  olf  than  you  were."  During 
the  night  the  brothers  arrived.  They  were  satisfied,  and  afterward 
lived  with  their  sister  and  brother-in-law.  Soon  all  went  back  to 
the  village,  loaded  with  skins  and  venison.  Now  the  raan  and  his 
wife  were  rich.    They  lived  in  the  Genesee  Valley. 

77.  The  Great  Worm^"'  and  Hinon 

One  day  a  boy  was  wandering  about  hunting  in  the  woods.  ^ATiile 
he  was  looking  around  for  birds  he  noticed  on  the  limb  of  a  tree  a 
large,  many-colored  worm.  He  thought  it  very  beautiful  and  he 
watched  it  for  some  time.  The  next  day  he  went  to  the  woods  again, 
thinking  all  the  time  of  the  worm  and  wondering  whether  it  still 
would  be  there. 

When  he  came  to  the  tree  he  saw  the  worra  on  the  branch,  but  in 
another  place.  The  boy  had  a  string  of  birds  which  he  had  killed 
that  morning.  Tearing  off  a  small  bit  of  the  flesh  of  one  and  fasten- 
ing it  to  a  stick,  he  tried  to  feed  the  worm.  It  ate  a  little  and  the 
boy  was  greatly  amused.  The  following  day  the  boy  again  found 
the  worra  and  fed  it.  The  worm  alwa_ys  remained  near  the  place- 
where  he  had  first  discovered  it.  Each  day  the  worra  ate  a  little 
more  and  larger  portions.  After  a  while  the  boy  gave  it  a  whole 
bird  at  a  time ;  then  soon  two  birds,  feathers  and  all.  The  worm  had 
now  become  very  large,  too  heavy  for  the  limb  of  the  tree  on  which 
it  had  been  staying,  so  it  fell  to  the  ground.  It  never  looked  for 
food,  but  seeraed  to  wait  for  the  boy  to  bring  it. 

One  day  the  youth  was  out  with  a  nuraber  of  boys  hunting.  When 
they  started  for  home  he  said,  "  I  shall  give  all  my  birds  to  the 
worm."  Thereupon  the  other  boys  questioned  him  about  the  creature 
and  wanted  to  see  it,  so  he  led  thera  to  the  worm,  and  they  had  great 
sport  seeing  it  eat.  At  every  turn  it  seemed  to  change  color  and 
grow  more  beautiful.  The  boys  were  delighted  to  throw  birds  at 
the  worm  that  they  might  see  it  snatch  and  eat  them.  Finally  they 
said,  "  Let  us  go  hunting  tomorrow  and  bring  it  all  the  birds  we  can 
*md."    This  they  did. 


;™;,^]  LEGENDS  421 

For  a  long  time  tlie  boys  brouglil  tlie  worm  birds,  then  rabbits,  all 
of  which  it  ate.  Tiie  worm  grew  very  rapidly,  became  very  long 
and  thick — a  luigc  monster.  The  boys  never  told  their  parents  or 
relations  about  the  worm,  for  they  were  afraid  of  io.sing  their  sport. 
They  would  go  early  every  morning  to  see  the  worm.  The  creature 
swallowed  everytiiing  that  came  within  its  reach. 

One  day  wliilc  the  boys  were  throwing  the  worm  food  they  began 
to  wrestle,  and  in  the  excitement  the  youngest  boy  w'as  tlirown  near 
the  creature.  Jn  an  instant  the  boy  was  swalloweii.  At  this  the  rest 
of  the  boys  were  tcrrii)ly  frigiitened.  When  the  child  was  missed 
the  ])aients  looked  for  him  everywhere:  they  went  am(jng  the  boys  to 
see  whelher  he  had  not  s[)ent  the  night  with  one  of  them.  But  they 
could  not  get  the  slightest  clue  to  the  whereab(»uts  of  the  boy.  The 
other  boys  said  that  they  had  seen  hiiu  the  day  before;  that  was  all 
they  pretended  to  know. 

After  this  the  boys  pushed  two  or  three  others  of  their  number 
near  the  worm,  which  devouretl  them.  too.  It  h;iil  become  very  large 
and  ferocious,  and  ruled  the  boys  by  a  spell.  One  day  they  found 
that  the  woj'iu  had  killed  and  eat-en  a  deer.  'J'hereupon  they  were 
seized  with  great  fear,  for  the  creature  had  grown*so  immense,  and 
they  ran  away  without  having  their  usual  sport. 

Now  the  \illage  was  built  on  a  large  nunind-like  hill,  slo[Hng  on  all 
sides.  The  morning  after  the  boys  had  failed  to  feed  the  worm  the 
people  were  alarmed  to  lind  the  village  surrounded  by  a  terrible  mon- 
ster. They  were  afraid  to  go  near  it.  although  they  knew  that  they 
must  die  if  they  remained  shut  up  in  thi'  village.  At  last  the  greater 
•  number,  having  foimd  on  one  side  what  seejned  to  them  to  be  an 
opening,  all  i-ushed  in.  It  was  the  motith  of  the  woi'm  and  all  were 
swallowed.  Then  the  boys  told  tho.se  who  remained  that  it  was  this 
worm  that  had  eaten  the  missing  children. 

^\'hen  they  saw  that  all  who  had  tried  thus  to  escajje  were  de- 
voured they  were  teri-iticd,  and  counseled  together  to  save  them- 
selves. Oidy  a  few  were  left.  These  decided  to  ajjpeal  to  their 
grandfather,  Ilinon.  So.  burning  tobacco,  they  called  on  their 
grandfather,  Ilinon,  the  Thimder  gotl,  imploring  him  to  save  them 
from  this  awful  worm.  As  soon  as  the  tobacco  was  burning,  they 
iieard  him  ai)proa<hing  in  a  great  black  storm  cloud  with  terrific 
noise.  With  iiis  lightning  he  struck  the  worm,  tearing  it  to  pieces. 
These  pieces  rolU'd  down  the  hillside  into  the  valley  below,  which 
became  a  lake. 

78.    TlIF.    C'niI'.MrNli     AND     iiii:     He.mj 

The  Bear  thought  herself  a  very  po\ferful  cicature  in  the  exercise 
of  orenda  (magic  power),  and  hence  was  always  trying  to  e.xhibit 
this  power  before  other  animals. 


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

One  clay  she  got  into  a  hot  dispute  with  a  Chipnuinli.  Finally  the 
Chipmunk  said :  "  Why  do  you  boast  so  much  ?  You  have  no  re- 
markable orenda."  At  this  sally  the  Bear,  becoming  very  angry, 
asserted  that  she  had  so  great  magic  power  that  she  could,  if  she 
wished,  prevent  the  sun  from  rising  in  the  morning.  The  Chip- 
munk retorted,  "  No,  you  have  not ;  you  can  not  do  that."  "  Wait 
and  see,"  replied  the  Bear. '  Tlie  Chipmunk,  not  to  be  fooled,  de- 
clared he  would  wait,  saying,  "We  shall  have  the  sun  at.  the  usual 
time."  AVhen  the  sun  rose,  as  usual,  the  Chipmunk,  laughing,  made 
sport  of  the  Bear  and  her  boasting.  Finally,  the  Bear  got  so  terribly 
angry  that  she  turned  on  the  Chipmunk,  who  made  his  escape  by 
flight,  for  fortunately  his  b\u'row  was  near;  but  as  ho  reached  it, 
the  Bear  was  so  close  upon  him  that  she  stretched  out  her  paw  to 
clutch  him,  and  the  Chipmunk  just  slipped  from  under  it  into  the 
hole.  The  next  day  the  Chipmunk  appeared  with  three  marks  on 
his  back — marks  of  the  Bear's  clawSj  which  the  Chipmunk  carries  to 
this  day. 

79.  The  (treat  White  Beaver  and  the  Lake  of  the  Enchanted 

Water 

Once  in  old  times  there  lived  a  grandfather  and  his  grandson  in  a 
lodge  in  a  forest  far  from  any  village.  All  the  other  people  of  their 
tribe  had  been  carried  away  through  sorcery  practiced  by  their 
enemies.  The  grandfather  therefore  carefully  guarded  from  witches 
and  wizards  his  grandson,  who  was  the  only  hope  and  comfort  of  his 
declining  years. 

One  day  the  little  grandson,  almost  breathless,  ran  into  the  lodge- 
exclaiming:  "Oh,  grandfather!  I  have  heard  something  which  is 
very  wonderful,  crying  out,  Kidji'de.''''  "  Oh  !  "  answered  the  grand- 
father, "that  is  the  bird  which  is  called  Chickadee;  it  is  the  first 
kind  of  game  that  a  young  hunter  kills."  Taking  his  cue  from  this 
reply,  the  lad,  seizing  his  bow  and  arrows,  went  out  and  after  many 
fruitless  attempts  killed  the  chickadee  and  brought  its  body  into  the 
lodge  to  his  grandfather.  Thereupon  the  grandfather  set  up  in  the 
ground  in  front  of  the  fire  two  small  forked  sticks  and  laid  across 
another  stick  in  the  two  forks.  Having  di'essed  the  chickadee,  he 
hung  it  on  the  cross  stick  to  broil,  singing  and  dancing  with  great 
joy,  saying,  "  Now  my  grandson  will  become  a  great  hunter." 

At  another  time  the  grandson  ran  into  the  lodge,  crying  out:  "Oh, 
grandfather!  I  have  seen  something  with  four  legs,  a  black  face, 
and  with  four  stripes  around  its  tail ;  it  was  large  and  fat."  "  Oh  !  " 
answere^l  the  grandfather,  "that  is  what  is  called  Dju'ii'ka';  ^"^  it  is 
the  second  kind  of  game  that  a  young  liunter  kills.  It  has  good  meat 
and  fine  fur."  Renewing  his  hunting,  the  lad  soon  killed  the  Dju'ii'ka' 
and  brought  its  body  into  the  lodge.     The  grandfather  sang   and 


f,^;"J,'?;;]  FICTION-  423 

danced  again,  sayinif,  "  Oh  I  my  fjrandson  will  he  a  great  hunter." 
After  dressing  the  hody  of  Dju'ii'ka'  he  hung  it  on  the  cross-stick 
before  the  Ki'o  to  l)i-<iil.  When  il  was  rcmkcd  bdth  ate  the  flesh  of 
Dju"ii'ka". 

A  tew  tlays  later  the  lad  ran  into  the  lodge,  exclaiming,  "Oh! 
grandfather.  1  have  seen  a  very  strange  tiling,  which  was  walking 
on  two  legs:  it  had  red  skin  on  its  head,  a  black  coat,  and  nuide  a 
great  deal  of  noise."'  The  grandfather  told  the  lad  what  this  new 
thing  was.  saying:  "  Oh  I  that  is  Ohsdon.  It  makes  the  best  kind 
of  soup,  and  it  is  the  third  kind  of  game  that  a  V'oung  hunter  kills." 

Kunning  off  into  the  forest,  the  lad  soon  saw  a  flock  of  the  Ohsoon 
and  ran  after  them  until  he  had  caught  one.  Me  thought  that  the 
soup  of  which  his  grandfather  spoke  must  be  in  its  legs.  But  after 
examining  them  thoroughly  and  finding  no  soup,  he  exclaimed,  "  My 
grandfather  must  have  tried  to  deceive  me";  with  that  remark  he 
let  the  bird  go  free.  Then  he  ran  back  to  his  grandfather,  complain- 
ing that  he  had  caught  one  of  the  Ohsoon  and.  after  carefully  ex- 
amining its  legs,  had  found  no  soup  in  them,  and  that  therefore  he 
had  let  the  bird  go  free.  His  grandfather  pityingly  said,  "  Oh  !  you 
foolish  boy.  The  soup  is  not  in  its  legs  but  in  the  body.  You  must 
kill,  dress,  and  cook  Ohsoon,  and  then  you  will  have  very  fine  soup." 
With  this  information  the  lad  again  went  out  into  the  forest,  and, 
having  caught  another  of  the  Ohsoon,  brought  it  home.  The  old 
man  was  highly  delighted  with  the  success  of  his  grandson,  so  he 
himself  killed.  dres.sed.  and  cooked  Ohsoon.  Again  he  sane  and 
danced.  fre(|uently  saying,  "•  Now,  my  grandson  will  be  a  great 
hunter."  When  the  bird  was  cooked,  they  ate  their  fill  and  were 
both  satisfied. 

On  another  ilny  the  lad  went  out  to  hunt.  In  the  foiest  he  saw 
a  very  strange  ci'eature.  with  long  thin  legs  and  something  on  its 
head  resembling  the  branches  of  a  tree.  Being  \ery  nnich  afiaid  of 
this  creature,  the  la<l  i-:in  home  to  his  grandfather  to  tell  him  what 
he  had  t^een.  His  grandfather  said:  " 'J'hat  is  Neogen,^"^  which  is  the 
fourth  and  greatot  kind  of  game  that  a  hunter  kills.  When  a  man 
can  kill  Xeogen  he  is  a  good  huntei-."  Taking  his  bow  and  (|ui\er 
of  arrows  the  hul  went  into  the  forest  to  look  for  Xeogen.  After 
long  hunting  he  killed  Neogen  and  dragged  its  body  home  to  his 
grandfather.  But  on  this  occasion  the  old  man  did  not  dance,  for 
this  was  an  event  for  solemnity  in  conduct.  With  due  respect  to 
the  amenities  of  the  occasion  he  carefully  instructed  the  growing  lad 
in  the  art  of  dressing  the  deer  and  of  preparing  its  skin  for  use. 
Then  he  told  his  gi-andson  tliat  he  had  evinced  the  q\ialities  of  a 
good  hunter,  and  that.  "  I leicafter  you  need  not  run  back  home  to 
tell  me  what  you  ha\e  seen.     You  now  have  the  right  to  kill  any- 


424  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  AXN-.32 

thing  that  may  come  in  your  way.  A  man  that  can  kill  a  deer  is 
a  great  hunter,  and  he  then  can  kill  all  kinds  of  game." 

The  next  time  the  youth  went  to  hunt  he  brought  back  a  fine  bear. 
His  grandfather  was  now  very  happy,  for  they  had  an  abundance 
of  meat.  Assuring  the  youth  that  he  had  arrived  at  the  age  of  man- 
hood, as  indicated  by  the  change  in  his  voice,  he  said  to  him :  "  My 
grandson.  I  am  much  pleased  with  you.  You  may  go  when  hunting 
in  every  direction  except  toward  the  east.  You  must  not  go  toward 
the  east,  for  there  dwell  very  wicked  women,  who  have  killed  thi-ough 
sorcery  all  our  people.     So  give  heed  to  what  I  tell  you." 

The  next  time  that  the  .young  man  started  off  to  hunt  he  directed 
his  course  southward.  But  as  he  traveled  on  he  kept  thinking  of 
those  wicked  women  in  the  east,  who  had  destroyed  all  his  kindred. 
Finally,  he  decided  to  change  his  course  from  the  southward  to  east- 
ward, and  he  kept  on  for  some  time  in  the  latter  direction.  At  last 
he  came  to  a  tree  which  was  covered  all  over  with  what  appeared 
to  be  the  scratches  and  nail  marks  of  raccoons,  whereupon  he  said 
to  himself,  "  There  must  be  a  large  number  of  raccoons  in  this  tree." 
So  he  removed  his  outer  garments  and  laid  aside  his  bow  and  ar- 
rows; then  taking  a  stout  club,  he  climbed  the  tree  until  he  came  to  a 
hole  very  near  the  top.  Peering  into  this  opening,  he  saw  many  rac- 
coons down  in  the  hollow  trunk.  By  thrusting  his  club  down  among 
them,  he  killed  a  number.  Drawing  them  up,  he  threw  them  on  the 
ground  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  Finally  he  danced  to  look  down — 
there  at  the  very  foot  of  the  tree  he  saw  a  beautiful  young  woman 
sitting  on  a  log.  As  soon  as  she  caught  his  eye  she  exclaimed,  "  Come 
down  here.  I  wish  to  talk  with  you,  so  do  not  delay."  The  young 
man  paid  no  attention  to  her  at  first,  but  kept  on  killing  the  rac- 
coons and  casting  them  down  to  the  gi'ound.  She  hailed  him  again, 
urging  him  to  come  down  to  talk  with  her.  To  avoid  her.  he  crept 
around  the  tree,  and  there  he  changetl  himself  into  a  red-headed 
woodpecker.  Next  he  climbed  up  higher  into  the  tree,  pecking  at 
the  bark  as  he  went  for  a  short  time.  Then  he  shot  his  arrow  off 
toward  home;  it  whizzed  through  the  air  making  a  sound  like  a 
woodpecker.  The  young  woman,  who  thought  that  he  was  the  ar- 
row, flew  after  him  with  all  her  might.  But  the  A^oung  man,  assum- 
ing again  his  own  form,  slipped  down  the  tree,  and  after  putting 
on  his  garments  and  gathering  up  the  raccoons  and  his  bow  and 
arrows,  he  started  for  home. 

His  grandfather  was  greatly  delighted  to  see  so  great  a  number 
of  raccoons,  but  when  he  learned  where  the  young  nian  had  got  them 
he  liecame  very  angry  and  chided  him  severely,  saying.  "  You  must 
not  go  there  again,  for  if  you  do  great  harm  and  evil  will  befall  us." 

The  next  day  the  young  man  started  off  from  home,  going  directly 
southward.     But  when  he  was  put  of  sight  of  the  lodge  he  suddenly 


f,^:!:7,r,-]  FicriON  425 

turned,  going  dirortly  onstward.  On  the  course  he  passed  the  tree 
where  he  had  Idlled  so  many  raccoons,  and  finally  came  to  a  second 
tree,  which  was  also  full  of  raccoons.  Sto])])iiig  there,  he  killed  a 
large  nuniher,  and  while  throwing  tliein  to  the  ground  from  the  tree, 
he  again  saw  (lie  woman  who  had  accosted  him  at  the  othei-  tree. 
She  urged  him  to  come  down,  and  did  not  fail  to  use  very  enticing 
terms.  As  lie  recalled  his  gran(lfatlH'i''s  words,  the  young  man  well 
knew  that  lie  should  not  go  d(nvn  to  hei-,  hut  a  feeling  came  into  his 
heart  which  urgently  piompted  hiiu  to  comply  with  her  reipiest.  So 
reluctantly  descending  halfway.  tlieiT  he  stop[)ed.  IJut  the  woman 
kept  urging  him  to  come  down.  l"'inally,  Inning  rea(;hed  the  ground, 
he  sat  on  the  end  of  the  log.  near  the  midtlle  of  which  the  wouuin 
was  sitting.  She  asked  him,  "  A\'hy  do  you  sit  so  far  away  ^  Young 
people  custonuirily  sit  near  each  other  when  they  talk  together," 
At  this  the  yiunig  man  drew  a  little  nearer  to  her.  But  she  still 
urged  him  to  come  close  to  her,  so  (inally  he  took  his  scat  right  at 
her  side.  Now  she  began  to  tell  him  stories  of  wonders  and  magic 
power,  talking  to  him  until  at  last,  hecoming  wearied,  the  young 
man  fell  asleep.  Then  the  young  woman,  placing  him  in  a  bag  which 
.she  threw  o\er  her  shonlder,  huri'icd  away  through  the  air.  At 
the  end  of  a  long  joui-ney  she  alighted  on  the  ground,  and  taking 
the  young  man  from  the  bag,  she  aroused  him  and  asked,  "  Do  you 
know  this  placed"  l^ooking  around,  he  replied,  "Yes;  my  grand- 
father and  I  have  fished  here."  The  young  woman  replied.  "I  do 
not  believe  what  you  say.  Point  out  something  you  remember."'  The 
young  man  (willing  that  she  slioidd  see  these  things)  said,  "Oh! 
there  are  the  jioles  we  set  up,  and  there  is  an  old  kettle  in  which  we 
cooked."  lie  had  bewitched  her  eyes,  so  after  seeing  these  objects 
she  believed  what  he  had  said. 

Again' the  woman  told  him  stoi'ies  until  she  had  put  him  to  sleep; 
then  i)uttiiig  him  into  her  bag  she  cari'ied  him  far  away,  fiiuilly  alight- 
ing on  the  groimd.  Taking  him  out  of  the  bag  and  causing  him  to 
open  his  eyes,  she  set  him  on  a  narrow  cliff  under  a  mountain,  whei'c 
he  had  room  only  suflicient  for  him  to  lie  down — a  [)lace  not  wider 
than  a  small  deerskin. 

I^ooking  upward,  he  saw  the  mountain  extending  far  above  him,  and 
looking  downwai'd,  he  saw-  that  the  eai'th  was  many  luuulreds  of  feet 
betow.  Nearer  to  him  were  othei'  mountain  peaks,  nairow  and  jjointed, 
on  which  were  lying  the  bodies  oi'  men  some  aliM'.  some  half  dead, 
others  half  eaten,  and  still  others  reduced  to  mere  skeletons.  The 
sight  of  these  things  caused  the  young  man  many  bitter  reflections. 
He  repeatedly  said:  "Oh!  now  I  see  that  my  grandfather  was 
entirely  right  in  the  advice  he  gave  me.  There  arc  indeed  very 
■wicked  women  who  dwell  in  the  ea.st."  His  feelings  of  chagrin 
were  only  heightened  by  what  he  learned  from  what  one  of  the  living 


426  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  tirra  an.v.  S2 

men  told.  Calling  to  the  man  lying  on  the  nearest  cliff,  he  asked 
him  how  he  happened  to  be  there.  The  man  in  broken  accents 
replied :  "A  woman  deceived  me  and  brought  mo  here.  Other  women 
brought  those  other  men  to  the  spots  where  you  see  them  lying. 
Their  flesh  is  being  eaten  from  their  bones,  3'et  they  do  not  die.  You 
and  I  shall  be  eaten  when  they  get  ready  to  come  to  us."  He  ceased 
speaking,  and  the  young  man  then  thought  long  on  some  means  of 
escape  from  such  a  lingering,  horrid  death  at  the  hands  of  such 
wicked  women  and  their  agents.  At  last  he  remembered  that  in 
years  past  he  had  had  a  dream  in  which  he  had  seen  a  Great  Spider, 
which  approached  him,  saying :  "  My  friend.  I  will  keep  and  protect 
you  when  you  shall  be  in  trouble.  So  call  on  me  when  you  shall  be 
in  fear  of  death."  He  therefore  cried  to  this  Great  Spider  for  aid, 
saying:  "Oh,  Great  Spider!  help  me  now.  I  am  in  great  trouble." 
Hardly  had  his  words  died  away  before  an  enormous  spider,  which 
was  as  large  as  a  man.  came  to  him  and  at  once  began  weaving  webs 
and  to  form  a  rope.  When  it  had  finished  the  rope  the  Great  Spider 
suspended  it  from  the  mountain  above  the  man.  The  rope  was 
quite  strong  enough  to  support  the  man.  and  thereby  he  climbed  up 
to  tlie  top  of  the  mountain  above  him.  There  he  saw  a  large  level 
country.  Then  by  the  aid  of  the  Great  Spider,  lowering  the  rope  to 
the  men  below  on  the  cliff's  who  were  still  alive,  he  drew  them  up  one 
after  another.  Having  thanked  the  Great  Spider  for  its  aid,  he  dis- 
missed it.    The  men  thus  rescued  went  to  their  homes. 

Then  the  young  man  set  out  for  the  home  of  the  woman  who  had 
so  cleverly  deceived  him.  After  a  long  journey  he  found  her  living 
with  her  mother  in  an  old  lodge  standing  quite  alone.  Addressing 
the  young  woman,  the  daughter  of  the  old  sorceress,  the  young  man 
declared  his  purpose  in  coming  by  saying:  "I  have  come  here  to 
marry  you.  When  I  first  saw  you  I  was  greatly  pleased  with  you; 
and  I  now  love  you.  Will  you  be  my  wifeT'  Eeplying.  the  young 
woman  said,  "  Oh  !  I  hardly  know  what  to  tell  you.  for  I  ha\e  a  very 
disagi'eeable  mother,  and  I  am  much  afi-aid  you  will  not  be  able  to' 
live  in  the  same  lodge  with  her.  It  was  in  oljedience  to  her  command 
that  I  carried  you  to  the  narrow  cliff  on  the  mountain  peak.  I  am 
willing  to  make  the  trial  if  you  wish  it."  The  young  man  accepted 
her  even  under  these  adverse  circumstances,  and  so  the}'  became  hus- 
band and  wife. 

One  night  some  time  after  tliis  the  old  woman,  the  mother-in-law 
of  the  young  man.  who  slept  at  the  l)ack  end  of  the  lodge,  pretending 
to  be  in  an  agony  of  pain,  rolled  around  on  the  ground.  Her 
daughter,  knowing  what  the  trouble  was.  said  to  her  luisband.  "  Strike 
my  mother  on  the  head  with  the  pestle  for  pounding  corn."  In  doing 
this  he  said  to  her,  "  Oh  !  mother-in-law,  what  is  the  matter?"  Seem- 
ing to  have  been  awakened  by  the  blow  of  the  pestle  the  old  woman 


J™'t''t]  fiction  427 

said:  "I  have  droanied,  and  my  Dnvim  I'ciii<^  dcclari'd  that  it  is 
necessary  in  order  to  a\oid  some  niil<n<)\vii  cahuiiity  that  my  son-in- 
law  kill  the  (ii'eat  \\'iiite  I>eavei-  tliat  lives  in  the  Lake  of  the  En- 
chanted A\'ateis,  and  tliat  with  its  tlesii  lie  nnist  |)reiinie  a  least  lor 
the  Dapwanoenyent."  The  son-in-law  rejiiii'ti:  "It  is  all  right. 
Oh!  mother-in-law.  I  will  attend  to  this  to-moiinw  morninj:'.  So 
go  to  bed,  and  let  it  not  worry  you." 

The  next  luorniiig  the  young  husband  set  out  for  tlu-  La  lie  of  the 
I^nehanted  A\'atei's.  lla\ing  arri\ed  there  he  soon  fouiul  the  (ireat 
A\'liite  I'ea\(>r.  With  l(ut  a  single  arrow  he  shot  and  killed  it.  Hut 
as  soon  as  he  lifted  its  body  out  of  the  lake  the  enchantiMJ  waters  i)ur- 
sned  him  with  great  fury.  These  waters  were  reputed  to  he  .so  full 
of  e\il  enchantment  that  the  tlesh  of  any  living  thing  comiuij:  in  con- 
tact with  them  iuui'iediately  fell  fi'om  the  bones.  Knowing  this,  the 
young  husband  ran  foi-  ids  life,  beai'ing  the  body  of  the  (ireat  White 
Beavei'.  At  last,  reaching  the  lodge  in  safety  he  triumphantly  threw 
the  carcass  of  the  (ii-eat  White  Leaver  down  on  the  ground,  and  at 
that  instant  the  waters  of  the  lake  (|uickly  reced»'d.  The  old  woman 
was  now  h\  a  givat  ragi'  at  the  turn  cd'  alfaii's.  At  times  slie  cried 
out,  "Oh  !  he  is  a  teri-ible  man.  1  thought  tliat  surely  his  bone.-;  would 
now  be  in  that  lake.  Oh,  my  poor  son!  ()h.  my  poor  son!"  It 
seems  that  the  (Jreat  \\'hite  Beaver  was  no  other  than  her  sen.  who 
was  a  gi'eat  sorcerer,  and  who  assumed  this  formidable  shape  to  de- 
ceive other  shamans  aiul  sorcerers  and  to  lure  them  to  certain  de- 
sti'iiction.  l>ut  evidently  his  orenda  had  been  o\ercome  by  that  of 
the  young  bi'olher-in-law.  his  sister's  husliMnd. 

Having  dressetl  the  dead  Leaver  in  accordance  with  established 
custom  on  like  oeeasions  and  having  had  its  flesh  cooked,  the  young 
man  invited  the  I  )agwatioenyent  and  the  (iaa.syeiubefha  to  come  to 
the  feast  given  in  their  honor,  t'oming.  one  and  all,  they  (illed  the 
lodge  to  overllowing,  the  Dagwanoenyent  being  little  else  than  great, 
horrid,  round  heails  with  long  hail-  and  with  great  llannngeyes.  'J"heir 
host  coumianded  them  to  eat  everyflnng --llesh  and  bones  and  to 
drink  the  broth,  for  it  was  an  "  eat-all"  feast,  ^^'hen  the  feast  had 
been  dcNoni'ed  to  the  last  morsel,  the  ugly  old  heads  began  to  smack 
their  lips,  and  they  praiseil  ironically  the  feast,  saying:  "  \\'hat  a 
si)leiulid  feast,  a  line  diinier.  the  old  wonnin  has  given  us.  Oil! 
how  sweet  and  toothsome  was  her  son's  flesh."'  Then  the  Great 
Heads''''  grinned  at  one  another  dei'isively.  Now.  beside  herself 
with  rage,  the  old  woman,  seizing  a  club,  drove  all  her  unwelcome 
guests  out  of  the  lodge. 

The  ru'xt  night  the  old  woman  again  rolled  and  tossed  on  her  lied, 
tinally  falling  intu  the  fire,  ci-ying  out.  Af/i.'  A;//.'  The  wife  of  the 
voung  man  had  told  him  that  this  time  her  mother  woidd  dream 
that  he  and  his  inothei -in-law  must  go  into  the  sweat-lodge — the  nuin 


428  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ann.  32 

tiist,  and  the  old  woman  after  him.  So  when  the  old  woman  rolled 
into  the  fire,  the  young  wife  said,  "  Now,  strike  her  with  the  pestle 
for  poundint;  corn."  At  this  he  struck  her  a  blow  with  the  pestle 
while  she  was  rolling  about  among  the  ashes  and  fire,  and  groaning 
as  if  in  great  agon_y.  The  old  woman,  pretending  to  awake,  said, 
"Oh !  I  have  dreamed  that  my  son-in-law  entered  the  sweat-lodge — 
he  first,  and  then  I."  Making  liglit  of  her  dream,  the  young  man 
said,  "  Oh !  go  to  bed,  mother-in-law.  I  will  attend  to  this  matter  in 
the  morning."  Early  the  following  morning  the  sweat-lodge  was 
heated  hotter  than  it  had  ever  been  before.  When  the  son-in-law 
entered,  the  old  woman  sang  and  danced  around  it,  saying,  ''  Let 
there  be  heat  enough  in  there  to  smother  him."  In  a  couple  of  hours 
she  cautiously  pushed  aside  the  door  flap  of  the  sweat-lodge,  remark- 
ing, "  He  must  be  dead  by  this  time."  But  she  was  deeply  chagrined 
to  find  that  he  sat  inside  very  comfortably,  and  that  he  had  not  even 
perspired.  It  was  now  the  old  woman's  tui'n  to  enter  the  sweat-lodge. 
As  she  did  so.  the  son-in-law  began  to  sing  and  to  dance  around  it. 
He  sang,  "Let  this  lodge  become  flint;  let  it  be  red  hot  at  first;  and 
then  let  it  be  at  white  heat."  As  it  grew  hotter  and  hotter  the  old 
woman  begged  for  mercy,  but  none  was  shown  her,  and  thus  she 
was  burned  to  death. 

Now  the  young  husband,  addressing  his  wife,  said,  "  As  you 
brought  me  the  most  of  the  way  hither  on  your  back,  and  as  you 
know  the  way,  take  me  home."  So  she  bore  him  on  her  back  over 
the  fields,  over  the  forests,  past  the  fishing-grounds  where  he  said 
he  and  his  grandfather  had  fished,  past  the  raccoon  trees,  and  at  last 
brought  him  to  the  lodge  of  his  grandfather.  The  aged  grandfather 
welcomed  his  grandson  and  his  wife,  being  very  glad  that  his  grand- 
son had  lived  through  all  the  difficulties  which  he  knew  he  had  met 
while  he  had  been  absent.    There  they  lived  in  peace  and  contentment. 

This  is  the  story  of  the  Great  White  Beaver  and  the  Lake  of  the 
Enchanted  Waters. 

TRADITIONS 

80.  Ganon,  the  Seneca  War  Chief 

Ganon  was  a  Seneca  war  chief.  Having  called  a  council,  he  said, 
''  We  must  go  to  see  the  Cherokee,  and  find  out  whether  we  can  not 
agree  to  be  friendly  and  to  live  in  peace  hereafter."  The  people 
consenting,  the  chief  continued,  "  We  must  purify  ourselves  thor- 
oughly before  we  start;  this  will  take  ten  days."  Thereupon  a  great 
many  went  off  into  a  deep  forest.  All  were  men.  There  was  no 
woman  in  the  company.  AA'hen  they  got  into  the  deep  forest  they 
took  medicine  to  make  them  vomit.  This  they  did  every  morning 
for  ten  days,  in  addition  to  bathing  and  swimming  and  washing  their 
bodies  each  day. 


CDHTIN 


;]  TRADITIONS  429 


At  the  end  of  ten  days  the  chief  said,  "  We  shall  <io  now  on  a  high 
hill  and  there  make  a  trench  the  len<rth  of  a  man's  body.  Then  we 
will  put  a  man  into  it.  placing  boughs  across  so  he  can  not  he  seen, 
and  on  top  of  all  the  whole  carcass  of  a  deer." 

Now,  they  had  invited  S'hadahgeah  to  come  down,  and  the  people 
staid  near  the  trench.  The  man  under  the  bush  heard  a  noise,  and 
saw  a  common  eagle  come,  eat  a  little,  and  then  go  otT:  then  the  eagle 
came  back  again,  ate,  and  went  away  in  another  direction.  It  seemed 
as  if  it  notified  other  birds,  for  they  also  came.  The  man  who  was 
lying  underneath  the  brush  scared  them  away,  for  they  did  not  want 
common  birds  to  eat  the  meat.  After  a  while  the  conceale<l  man 
heard  a'tremendous  noise,  which  he  knew  was  made  by  S'hadahgeah, 
the  bird  they  wanted.  S'hadahgeah  is  a  very  cautiou.s  bird  ;  it  looked 
everywhei-e  i)efore  beginning  to  cat  the  meat.  The  man  got  his 
hand  carefully  around  the  bird's  tail,  Mhich  he  held  firndy,  and  when 
the  bird  flew  away  he  pulled  out  one  feather.  It  took  two  years  to 
get  a  full  tail  of  feathers;  hence  they  had  to  entice  down  a  good 
many  bii-ds  iiT  this  way  before  they  got  enough  foi-  llie  purpose. 
When  secured,  the  party  was  ready  to  start  for  the  Cherokee  country. 

>rany  days  were  recjuired  to  reach  the  land  of  the  Cherokee,  who 
had  built  a  fort  around  them  so  that  an  enemy  could  not  entei-.  The 
Seneca  got  there  early  in  the  morning,  when  the  gate  was  open.  Two 
of  the  Seneca  dancers,  adorned  with  feathers,  made  a  noise  like  a 
whoop.  When  the  Cherokee  heard  this  they  came  out,  whereupon 
they  saw  the  two  men  singing  and  dancing.  "  These  men  must  have 
come  on  some  errand,"  said  the  Cherokee  chief.  When  the  two  men 
came  nearer  they  said:  "We  wish  to  meet  in  council,  as  we  come  to 
talk  about  something  important."  All  turned  and  went  toward  the 
lodge  of  assembly.  All  the  Seneca  had  come  directly  there,  but  only 
the  two  were  singing  and  dancing.  The  lodge  of  assembly  was 
crowded.  The  Seneca  sang  and  danced  until  tired,  when  they 
stopped.  The  Cherokee  did  not  dance.  The  Seneca  chief  said  :  "  Now 
I  will  tell  you  for  what  purpose  we  have  come  to  you  thi-ough  the 
forest.  We  have  thought  among  ourselves  that  it  is  time  to  stop 
fighting.  You  and  we  are  always  on  the  lookout  to  kill  one  another. 
We  thiidc  it  is  time  to  stop  this.  Here  is  the  proof,  if  we  agree  to  be 
friendly.  Here  is  the  wampum.  If  you  and  your  people  are  willing 
to  be  friendly,  you  will  take  this."  With  these  words  he  held  out 
the  string  of  wampum  as  their  credentials.  Tlie  Cherokee  chief, 
coming  up,  met  the  Seneca  chief,  saying:  "  1  will  take  it  and  hold  it 
in  my  hand,  and  tomorrow  we  will  tell  you  what  we  have  decided 
to  do."  Then  turning,  he  said  to  his  people:  "(io  home  and  bring 
food  to  this  lodge  of  assembly."  Thercuiion  all  brought  from  their 
homes  so  much  food  that  there  was  a  great  pile  lying  acro.ss  the  lodge 


430  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  (eth.  AXN.  3-.' 

of  assembly.  All  ate  together,  but  could  not  consume  the  whole 
amount. 

The  next  day  they  ate  together  again.  "  We  have  decided  among 
ourselves."'  said  the  Cherokee  chief  to  the  Seneca,  "to  accept  this 
wampum,  to  be  friendly  with  you,  and  to  bury  all  the  weapons  of 
war  so  no  man  may  reach  them  again."  In  response  the  Sentca  chief 
said :  "  I  thank  you.  We  are  verj-  glad  that  you  have  accepted  our 
otl'er.  and  now  all  of  us  have  put  our  weapons  together,  and  the  white 
wampum  shall  hang  between  us,  and  the  belt  shall  be  as  long  as  a 
man.  reaching  down  to  the  ground."  The  Cherokee  said  to  their 
people :  "  Now  is  the  time  for  any  of  you  who  wishes  to  do  so  to  pick 
out  relatives  from  among  the  Seneca  to  be  adopted." 

When  the  notice  was  given  the  Cherokee  women  picked  out  one 
man.  saying.  "  You  are  to  be  our  uncle,  our  mother's  brother."  Some 
other  woman  took  another  for  a  brother:  and  finally  all  weie  taken 
except  Ganon.^"^  the  chief.  Then  Canon,  being  above  a  Cherokee, 
said,  "  No  one  has  a  right  to  take  Ganon  away,  for  a  young  man  is  here 
who  will  claim  him  as  his  father."  At  this,  the  young  man.  walking 
up  to  Ganon,  said,  "  Father.  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Now,  father,  we 
will  go  home."  Speaking  thus,  he  went  to  his  mother's  lodge,  taking 
his  fntlier  with  him.  and  it  was  found  to  be  he.  He  took  him  to  the 
lodge  where  (janon  spent  the  first  night,  and  the  yomig  man  was 
really  his  son.  When  Ganon  came  to  the  lodge  he  recognized  the 
woman.    Everyone  was  pleased  with  the  place  and  relationship. 

A  good  many  days  later  a  man  came  to  the  village  from  the  East^ 
the  Great  Salt  Water.  He  came  from  the  Seoqgwageonon  ^'''"  tribe  to 
challenge  them  to  a  ball  ]>lay,  and  he  told  how  many  days  it  would 
be  before  his  people  would  come.  They  came  at  the  time  appointed. 
The  iiead  man  was  dressed  in  skins  which  were  so  long  tliat  they 
touched  the  ground.  Next  day  the  Seoqgwageonon  began  to  \;et  with 
the  Cherokee.  The  Seneca  were  there.  The  Ijet  was  two  very  heavy, 
costly  skins,  and  other  valuables.  The  Seneca  and  the  Cherokee  said, 
"We  can  not  say  that  we  shall  win  this  game,  but  we  are  willing  to 
play."  The  p\:\y  began.  The  Cherokee  lost  the  game.  Then  the 
Sejieca  said.  "  ^\e  shall  try  this  time."  and  they  bet  again  heavily. 
All  were  ready.  They  put  their  netted  clubs  to  the  ground.  After  a 
little  swift  running,  the  Seneca  brought  the  ball  to  their  goal,  making 
a  ]>oint.  After  tiie  game  had  continued  a  while,  having  made  all  the 
points  agreed  on,  they  won  the  game.  They  now  doubled  the  bet, 
and  again  th^  Seneca. won.  They  won  the  third  game  also.  Now  the 
Seoqgwageonon  said,  "  We  will  try  the  race  with  you." 

The  ground  was  quite  level,  and  the  opening  was  very  broad.  The 
Cherokee  chose  a  Seneca  runner.  They  were  to  run  the  first  time 
without  betting,  and  to  bet  on  the  second  running.  The  men  ran  to 
the  post,  and  his  people,  seeing  that  the  Seneca  runner  was  just  the 


uEwrrr]  TR.'^DITIONS  431 

thiclviiess  of  his  Ixxly  behind  as  they  reaciu'd  tlie  post,  asiced  him 
whetlier  he  hiul  done  his  best.  He  replied,  "  No;  I  have  not."  Now 
they  bet  and  tiie  second,  tlie  real  i-ace.  l)e<ran.  At  tiie  middle  of  the 
course  the  Seneca  runner  said  to  the  other.  "  Do  your  best,  for  I  am 
going  to  do  mine."  The  Seneca  left  tlie  other  far  behind,  winning 
the  race.  Now  the  Seo(|gwageonon  said.  "There  is  yet  one  race,  the 
long  race,  which  we  shall  try."  The  Cherokee  said.  "We  ha\e  won 
everything  from  these  people.  I  believe  it  will  i)e  best  to  let  them 
win  one  game.  If  they  lose  all,  they  may  make  ti'oulde."  So  they 
selected  a  Cherokee  to  run,  who  was  beaten,  whereupon  the  Seoq- 
gwageonon  went  home. 

In  two  days  another  man  came  to  say  in  behalf  of  the  Seoqgwageonon 
that  he  had  come  to  challenge  them  a  second  time,  and  that  they  wei'e 
to  meet  halfway  and  ha\e  a  liglit.  The  Cherokee  said  to  the  Seneca 
who  were  with  them:  "  You  are  so  few  in  number  here  with  us  that 
we  do  not  want  to  have  you  killed,  so  we  thiidc  you  would  better 
go  home."  When  the  time  came,  the  Cherokee  met  and  fought  with 
the  Seo<ig\vageonon  and  were  beaten.  Three  years  later  the  Seneca 
went  to  visit  tlie  Cheiokee.  On  this  occasion  they  heard  all  about 
the  light,  and  the  Cherokee  told  them  that  the  Seo(]gwageoiion  had 
said,  "  We  should  like  to  light  with  the  Seneca,  for  I  am  a  double 
man;  I  lune  two  vii-ile  members."  So  tli?»  Seneca  held  a  council  and 
decided  to  fii;bt  them,  saying.  "  We  shall  try  and  see  whether  he  has 
two  virile  membeis."  The  Ciierokee  volunteered  to  guide  the  Seneca. 
They  traveled  many  days  until  they  came  to  a  place  where  the  Cher- 
okee said.  "'Ibis  is  as  far  as  the  Seoqgwageonon  usually  comi'  to 
liiuit."  'J'hey  came  to  a  jjath,  and  linding  a  footprint,  they  \\aited 
there  for  the  man  who  had  made  it.  .Soon  they  saw  a  man  cari-y- 
ing  meat  on  bis  hack.  "  \\'e  must  take  that  mai:."  said  the  .Seneca, 
"but  let  us  be  careful  lest  he  hurt  us."  ^^'hell  he  came  near  thev 
ran  at  him.  As  soon  as  he  saw  them,  he  whooped  and  dro]iped  the 
meat.  'J'hen  he  drew  his  bow  an<l  arrow  to  shoot,  but  before  he 
coidd  sele(  t  his  arrow,  he  was  taken  captive.  'I'hey  caused  him  to 
stand  in  the  middle  of  the  assembly,  saying,  "Let  us  see  whether  he 
has  two  viiile  members."  A\'ln'u  they  saw  he  had  only  one.  they  said. 
''Now  we  want  yotu-  people  to  stop  saying  they  have  two  virile 
members."    Thereupon  the  Seneca  went  back  to  the  Cherokee  village. 

Soon  a  runner  came  from  the  Seoqgwageonon,  who  told  the  Chero- 
kee that  they  wanted  to  ha\e  war  with  the  Seneca  and  that  he 
had  come  to  challenge  them.  The  Seneca  answered.  "We  will  trv  to 
gratify  them ;"  so  they  started  for  the  Seoqgwageonon  village,  guided 
by  the  Cheroicee  They  came  to  an  opening,  from  which  it  was  one 
day's  journey  to  the  tirst  village.  Stopjiing  at  a  hill  in  this  open- 
ing, they  were  about  to  send  two  messengers  to  the  Seoqgwageonon 
when  the  Cherokee  said,  "  'I  <in  nuist  send  them  so  as  to  arrive  at 


432  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

the  village  about  sundown."  Thej'  did  this.  AVhen  the  messengers 
arrived  near  the  village  they  saw  that  the  Seoqgwageonon  were  play- 
ing ball.  The  messengers  then  went  around  to  the  south  side  and 
threw  sumach  darts,  so  as  to  deceive  the  other  Indians  into  thinking 
them  of  their  own  people.  The  Seoqgwageonon  so  regarded  the  mes- 
sengers, hence  they  did  not  take  notice  of  them.  The  messengers 
having  killed  a  man,  scalped  him,  and  rushed  oil'  whooping.  On  the 
way  home  the  Seneca  kept  saying  to  one  another,  ^;Djdgon — brace 
up,  take  courage."  About  dusk  they  saw  dust  rising  from  the  ground 
a  good  distance  behind.  The  Seoqgwageonon  on  horses  were  pur- 
suing them.  The  Seneca  saw  that  they  would  be  overtaken  in  the 
open,  so  they  hurried  to  a  dry  creek  with  overhanging  banks,  where 
they  hid.  Soon  the  horses  and  dogs  drew  near,  but  the  dogs  failed 
to  find  the  Seneca  and  the  pursuers  went  on.  Shortly  they  returned, 
but  again  failed  in  their  search. 

The  next  morning  the  Seneca  went  on  to  Odaiadon,  where  there 
was  an  opening  into  a  forest.  The  messengers  soon  saw  the  dust 
a  second  time  and  knew  from  this  that  they  were  being  pursued. 
]n  a  little  while  they  could  see  the  horses  which  were  coming  on 
them ;  soon  the  horses  were  near.  The  arrows  of  the  Seoqgwageonon 
whizzed  past  them,  and  now  their  enemies  were  almost  on  them,  hut 
the  runners  were  at  the  opening,  where  their  people  were  arrayed 
in  the  form  of  a  horseshoe.  As  soon  as  the  pursuers  got  into  this 
formation  the  Seneca  closed  in  on  them,  capturing  and  killing  all 
but  one,  who,  being  in  the  rear,  turned  and  fled  in  time.  The  two 
Seneca  now  followed  the  horseman  until  they  saw  that  he  met  a 
crowd.  He  talked  to  his  people,  and  he  and  they  went  back  together 
to  the  country  of  the  Seoqgwageonon. 

The  Seneca  and  the  Cherokee  now  went  to  the  Cherokee  country, 
and  in  a  month  the  Seneca  returned  to  their  own  place. 

After  a  while  the  Seneca  said,  "  Let  us  go  again  to  our  friends, 
the  Cherokee."  When  they  arrived  there  all  were  glad  and  invited 
them  to  their  lodges.  They  said  to  the  Seneca :  ''  We  hear  that  the 
Seoqgwageonon  think  the  Seneca  are  dangerous  and  bad  people. 
They  themselves  are  fortune-tellers  and  can  see  what  other  people  are 
going  to  do,  but  they  can  not  tell  what  the  Seneca  are  going  to  do. 
They  are  magically  more  powerful  than  the  others."  During  this 
visit  they  merely  amused  themselves  with  games  and  other  sports. 

81.  Hatcinondon  :  ^"^  A  Historical  Tradition 

Hatcinonden  was  a  great  warrior,  the  greatest  among  thf  warlike 
Seneca  of  the  Iroquois  Confederation. 

Once  Hatcinondon  led  a  large  company  of  warriors  to  the  Cherokee 
country  on  a  raid.    In  time  they  arrived  at  a  place  called  Oyada '"' 


^ii^l^i]  TRADITIONS  433 

Tliiulinongroh,  which  was  witliin  the  Cherokee  country.  Thev  kiun^ 
well  that  the  Cherokee  were  on  tlie  lookout  for  them.  Having 
reached  this  place.  Ilatcinondon  told  his  men  to  lenuiin  where  they 
were,  and  that  he  would  <io  ahead  to  spy  out  the  land  and  to  learn  w'hat 
could  he  done.  Then  he  dojiai'ted  from  the  camp  of  his  men.  Soon 
it  was  discovered  by  the  enemy  that  he  was  in  the  Cherokee  country; 
and  lie  was  clo.sely  puisued  by  tiicm.  lie  fled  into  a  region  covered 
with  a  heavy  growth  of  reeds,  which  was  in  two  great  sections,  with 
a  narrow  strip  of  comparatively  clear  land  between  them.  Ilat- 
cinondon managed  to  escape  into  one  of  these  stretches,  unobserved  by 
the  enemy,  who  believed  that  he  had  concealed  himself  in  tiie  other 
part.  So  they  set  guards  at  the  narrow  strip  of  land  di\iding  the 
two  sections  of  reedy  land.  After  they  had  set  fire  to  the  reeds  and 
burned  them  up  they  nuule  a  careful  search  for  his  charred  body; 
but  Ilatcinondon  had  fallen  asleep  from  exhaustion  in  the  other 
stretch  of  reeds.  During  the  night,  howexer.  two  men  came  to  iiim, 
who  seized  him  by  the  arms,  saying :  "  We  have  come  for  you."  When 
they  had  bi'ought  him  to  the  place  whence  they  had  been  sent,  they 
said  to  him:  "We  ha\e  now  l)rouglit  you  to  this  man  who  sent  for 
you."  Whereupon  the  two  men  ])ointed  out  a  lodge,  with  the  words: 
"There  is  where  the  Ileion  li\'es  wlio  sent  for  you."  Ilatcinondon 
went  up  to  the  lodge.  l)ut  could  lind  no  dooiway;  but  after  he  had 
searched  for  some  time  without  success  he  heard  a  voico  on  the  inside 
say,  "Come  in!"  and  a  door  o|)ene(l  of  itself,  and  Ilatcinonilon  vn- 
tei-ed  the  lodge.  A\'ithin  he  found  a  luan.  who  said:  "I  sent  tor  you, 
and  you  have  now  come.  Are  you  not  hungry T'  At  this  Ilatci- 
nondon thought:  "This  is  a  strange  way;  this  is  not  the  way  1  do. 
I  would  give  the  food  at  once."  Hut  Xe  Ilononhsot.  knowing  the 
thought  of  Ilatcinondon.  laugiiing.  I'emarked:  "  I  said  that  only  in 
fun."  Arising,  he  g(jt  half  a  loaf  of  biead  made  of  corn  meal,  half  a 
wild  apple,  and  half  a  pigeon,  whieli  he  oifered  to  his  guest.  Hatci- 
nondoii  said,  laughing:  "How  little  it  is  that  will  satisfy  me."  To 
which  Xc  Ilononhsot  answered:  "If  you  eat  this  I  shall  give  you 
more."  .Vs  .soon  as  Hatcinondon  licgan  to  eat  he  saw  that  as  he  ate 
everything  became  whole  again,  so  that  he  was  not  alile  entirely  to 
consume  anything.  He  was  finally  satisfied  wit!i  what  he  had  eaten. 
Then  X'^e  Ilononhsot  said:  "  Xow  that  you  have  finished  eating 
I  will  speak  with  you  fuither." 

While  Hatcinondon  was  speaking  he  iieard  footsteps  of  someone 
approaching  on  a  I'un.  and  suddeidy  the  door  was  thr\ist  open,  where- 
upon the  .Sun  came  in  so  (|uickly  and  with  such  brightness  that  he 
had  to  hold  his  head  down  to  shield  his  eyes.  The  newcomei'  con- 
versed with  Xe  Hononhsot  but  Hatcinondon  coidd  i^ot  understand  a 
word  that  was  said.  In  a  shoit  time  the  visitor  started  off  toward 
9^(!15°— 16 28 


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

the  east.  Then  Ne  Hononhsot  said  to  Hatcinondon :  "  This  man  is 
the  one  whom  you  Seneca  call  Endekha  Gaahgwa.^"^  It  is  niglit  now 
down  on  the  earth,  so  he  is  hurrying  toward  the  east.  He  told  me  of 
a  great  battle  that  is  now  ended." 

Ne  Hononhsot  was  indeed  Hawenniyo,  and  he  said :  "  This  is  what 
I  expected  when  I  created  human  beings.  I  thought  they  would 
fight.  The  man  who  has  just  been  here  is  the  one  who  watches  on 
the  earth  below.  I  want  you  to  know  that  when  you  meet  an  enemy 
who  shoots  at  you.  you  must  not  run  away  but  must  walk  straight  up 
to  him.  He  shall  not  hurt  you.  An  arrow  shall  not  kill  you.  It  is 
something  else  that  shall  kill  you.  Now  you  shall  eat  again."  Ne 
Hononhsot  next  gave  him  the  same  kind  of  food,  one  half  of  each 
object.  Then  he  continued :  "  I  am  the  cause  that  the  Seneca  do 
not  now  fight  with  the  Cherokee,  for  I  love  both  tribes.  When  you 
return  home  you  will  find  all  your  people  there,  and  they  will  know 
that  you  are  alive.  When  you  get  back  to  your  party  of  warriors  you 
mu.st  tell  them  that  they  must  leave  the  warpath  at  once  and  cease 
fighting,  returning  to  their  homes  and  remaining  there  until  they 
shall  find  something  to  satisfy  their  wants.  Now  my  messengers  are 
ready  to  lead  you  back  to  your  camp." 

Going  out  of  the  lodge,  and  directed  by  the  messengers,  Hatcinon- 
don passed  through  an  opening  and  soon  found  himself  in  the  reeds 
where  he  was  before  he  had  been  called  away,  and  then  the  messen- 
gers departed. 

Keturning  to  his  party  of  warriors,  Hatcinondon  told  them  what 
he  had  seen  and  heard.  All  went  home,  where  they  held  a  great 
council,  and  it  Mas  there  agreed  that  the  part}'  should  go  to  the 
Cherokee  country  in  a  couple  of  days.  At  the  appointed  time  they 
started,  while  Hatcinondon  went  directh'  to  the  Cherokee  lands 
again.  He  was  not  afraid,  for  he  knew  that  an  arrow  would  not  kill 
him.  In  time  the  Seneca  met  the  Cherokee,  and  a  fierce  fight  took 
place.  Remembering  what  he  had  been  told,  Hatcinondon.  going 
straight  to  the  enemy,  killed  and  scalped  a  Cherokee  warrior,  where- 
upon he  immediately  proclaimed,  "  I  have  killed  and  scalped  a  war- 
rior. My  name  is  Hatcinondon."  He  did  this  before  any  of  the 
Cherokee  knew  that  he  was  there.  They  had  a  great  battle  and  many 
were  killed.  After  the  fight  the  party  of  Hatcinondon  retreated  to 
their  homes.  The  news  soon  spread  that  this  party  had  returned 
home  with  scalps. 

Shortly  after  this  affair  another  Seneca  party  started  away  to 
fight  the  Cherokee,  and  Hatcinondon  accompanied  it.  They  soon 
encountered  the  Cherokee,  and  in  the  ensuing  fight  Hatcinondon 
was  captured.  He  was  led  away,  bound,  to  the  Cherokee  village, 
where  a  great  council  of  war  was  held.  It  was  a  standing  rule  with 
the  Cherokee  that  when  any  person  from  the  Six  Nations  of  the  Iro- 


CURTIN 


:]  TRADITIONS  435 


quois  was  capturcil  his  or  her  lute  was  left  to  the  decision  ol'  two 
women,  whose  privilege  it  was  to  determine  how  such  a  person 
should  be  tortured.  These  two  women  at  this  council  decided  that 
Hatcinondoii  should  be  hung  up  and  tortui-ed  to  death  by  tire.  So 
he  was  securely  bound  to  a  tree,  the  war  post,  and  wood  was  care- 
fullj'  piled  up  under  and  around  him.  He  had  gi\en  himself  up  as 
lost.  They  were  about  to  set  lire  to  the  pyre  ol'  wood  when  a  violent 
rainstorm  came  up,  causing  tlie  women  to  defer  the  execution  until 
the  storm  siiould  have  i)assed  over.  All  the  people  sought  shelter 
from  the  storm,  leaving  llatciiiondon  tied  to  the  war  post.  AVhile 
there  alone  he  saw  an  ohl  woman  coming  toward  him.  who  said: 
"My  grandson,  you  think  that  you  are  going  to  die,  but  you  are  not. 
Try  to  stir  yourself."  Theieupon,  mo\ing  himself  about,  he  found 
that  his  bonds  w-ere  loosened  and  that  he  was  free.  "  You  see  now 
that  you  are  free,"'  she  said;  "  I  thought  that  I  wduld  come  to  return 
your  kindness.  You  remember  your  jieople  once  made  a  circle  of  lire 
and  I  was  in  the  middle  of  it.  You  recall,  perhaps,  that  you  saw  a 
toad  in  the  midille.  and  that  you  saved  the  toad,  placing  it  in  your 
bosom.  1  was  that  toad.  You  carried  me  until  you  came  to  water, 
in  which  you  placed  me.  This  is  the  reason  I  am  returning  your 
kindness,  for  I  see  that  you  are  in  trouble  now.  1  brought  that  rain- 
storm and  now  I  want  you  to  I'un  in  the  direction  of  the  next  stream, 
and  you  must  continue  down  thi'  stream." 

AA'hen  the  rainstorm  was  over  the  two  women  returned  to  the  war 
post,  oidy  to  find  that  Hatcinondon  had  escaped.  They  gave  the 
alarm  at  once,  aiul  tiie  warriors  assembled,  calling  the  dogs,  which 
forthwith  took  up  the  trail.  Soon  they  rciu-hed  the  stream  and  fol- 
lowed the  current.  As  Hatcinondon  fled  he  came  to  a  tree  that 
leane(l  over  the  wiiter.  He  found  that  the  truid<  was  hollow  and 
that  he  could  get  into  it  fi'om  the  water  and  then  crawl  farther  up. 
Here  the  dogs  lost  the  trail  and  finally  the  pursuit  was  abandoned. 
When  the  pursuers  had  departed  he  heard  two  people  approaching 
the  spot,  talking.  Pi-esently  they  sat  on  the  tree  at  the  very  jilace 
where  he  was  concealed.  He  overheard  them  say,  "It  is  wonderful 
how  that  man  escaped  from  us."  Hatcinondon  was  very  careful  not 
to  cough  lest  he  should  be  discoxei'cd.  But  at  last  he  heard  them 
depart  and  there  was  no  fui'ther  sound  of  talking.  At  last,  having 
come  out  of  the  hollow  in  the  tree,  he  went  southward,  down  the 
stream.  When  night  was  a|)i)roaching,  while  walking  along  he  heard 
a  blow  which  sounded  like  tiiat  of  an  ax  on  a  tree.  I'eing  greatly 
frightened,  he  became  \ei'v  wary  in  his  movements.  While  standing 
listening,  he  saw  three  men.  who  had  made  a  fire  where  they  were 
going  to  camp  for  the  night.  When  dai-kness  had  fully  .set  in  he 
crept  up  stealthily,  shielded  by  a  very  large  tree.  Standing  behind 
this  tree,  he  saw  that  the  men  were  sound  aslee])  and  were  snoiing. 


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

Without  disturbing  them  he  secured  their  weapons,  with  which  he 
armed  himself,  carefully  hiding  those  he  did  not  need.  Then  with 
an  ax  he  killed  the  three  men,  whom  he  scalped.  Thereupon  he  said: 
*'  The  blood  is  too  strong,  so  I  shall  go  aside  from  this  place." 

Taking  their  provisions,  he  went  to  a  neighboring  stream,  where 
he  made  a  fire.  Having  done  this,  he  went  back  and  dressed  himself 
in  the  best  of  the  garments  of  the  slain  men,  for  he  was  entirely 
naked;  then  he  returned  to  his  fire,  and,  having  cooked  his  meal,  he 
ate  it.  When  he  had  finished  his  meal  he  prepared  and  painted  the 
three  .scalps. 

The  next  morning  Hatcinondon,  taking  with  him  what  provisions 
they  had,  traveled  in  a  great  circle  until  he  had  found  the  path  by 
which  he  and  his  party  had  come  to  that  coimtry.  Discovering  fresh 
tracks  leading  both  ways,  he  learned  that  his  friends  were  still  in  the 
country.  As  he  went  along  the  path  he  saw  smoke  ahead,  at  the  sight 
of  which  he  stopped  and  listened  to  see  whether  he  could  hear  Seneca 
speech.  He  was  delighted  to  hear  Seneca  terms,  and  displaying  the 
three  scalps  on  a  stick  he  called  out,  Go'weh,  go'weh!  three  times. 
When  his  friends  heard  this,  shouting  for  joj',  they  ran  to  meet  him. 
They  saw  indeed  that  he  had  three  scalps  and  brought  him  to  their 
camp  fire.  They  were  glad  that  he  had  been  found  for  they  had 
watched  day  and  night  for  his  return,  but  had  about  concluded  that 
he  had  been  killed.  Setting  out  for  home,  they  found  all  their  people 
well.    This  is  the  story. 

82.    GODIONT  ■■''''    AND    THE    S'hAGODITOWEQGOWA 

In  Genesee  Valley  is  Dedioitgeon — the  mouth  of  a  gully.  In  that 
place  lived  the  Seneca  people.  Godiont,  the  principal  woman  in  the 
village,  had  a  meeting  with  a  S'hagodiyoweqgowa.  who  said  to  her. 
"  We  think  it  would  benefit  your  people  for  us  to  settle  permanently 
at  Dedioitgeon."  Godiont  thought  it  was  good  and  kind  in  them  to 
do  this,  and  so  she  was  glad.  Afterward  when  anyone  was  sick  she 
went  to  that  place  and  called  on  the  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  for  assist- 
ance. She  invited  them  to  come  to  her  lodge,  and  got  a  pot  of  corn 
soup  ready  for  them.  They  came  in  person,  and  having  asperged 
the  patient  with  ashes  and  having  blown  on  him,  they  ate  the  corn 
pudding.  The  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  said  to  Godiont,  "  Whenever  you 
invite  us  to  come,  you  must  have  the  pot  ready,  for  we  do  not  wish  to 
wait.    After  we  have  arrived  we  want  to  do  our  work  quickly." 

Once  there  was  a  man  who  had  not  much  substance,  who  thought 
he  would  fool  the  S'hagodiyoweqgowa.  Going  to  their  place,  he  in- 
vited them,  saying,  "  Your  help  is  required  at  a  certain  place  "  (nam- 
ing it).  They  went  there,  but  found  no  one,  and  nothing  was  ready. 
After  waiting  a  while,  the  chief  one  said:  "We  have  been  trifled 


he'wi'tt]  traditions  4.'57 

with.  Tliis  will  not  do.  Ciodioiit  did  not  do  this.  Some  other  per.son 
has  trifk'tl  with  us.  The  one  who  lias  done  so  must  die.  We  are  not 
to  he  trifled  with.  'I'iie  peoph-  must  understand  liiis.  It  is  best  for  us 
to  nio\e  away  fi-om  this  phice."  "  I  will  tell  you,""  said  he  to  (Jodiont, 
"what  I  want  you  to  do.  Make  masks  as  near  like  our  faces  as  you 
can.  and  let  men  weai-  them,  aiul  we  shall  work  throu<j;h  these  masks 
and  thus  hel[)  the  peoi)le."  '"Soon  the  man  who  has  trifled  with  us 
must  come  here,"  said  the  ohlesf  Siiafrodiyowe<|fro\va,  "and  you  shall 
see  what  will  hajipen  to  him."  Soon  the  man  came  on  a  r\m.  He  was 
in  a  kind  of  crazy  lit.  ('omiii<r  ri<,dit  to  the  spot  where  the  S'ha<^odiyo- 
weijgowa  were,  he  fell  down  and  hefran  to  vomit  blood,  and  linally 
died.  After  that  day  the  people  knew  it  was  wrong  to  make  fun  of 
the  S"hagodiyowe(|frowa. 

83.  S'liACioniYowicgoowA 

The  iidiabitants  of  a  \illage  saw  an  enormous  S'hairodiyoweqgowa 
approaching,  whereupon  they  were  very  angry  and  provoked  to  see 
that  it  could  think  of  coming;  so  they  got  their  bows  and  arrows 
ready  to  shoot.  But  the  S'hagodiyowecjgowa  called  out:  "Your 
arrows  can  not  kill  me.  I  have  not  come  to  hai-m  you.  T  have  come 
for  tobacco,  and  you  nnist  collect  voluntary  contributions  of  it  and 
give  me  all  that  you  can  spare."  They  did  not  shoot,  for  they  well 
knew  that  their  ari-ows  w'ould  have  no  effect  excejjt  to  make  the 
8'hagodiyoweqgowa  angry  and  revengeful.  So  they  collected  a  (juan- 
tity  of  tobacco,  which  they  gave  to  him.  Then  he  left  them  with  the 
pronii.se  that  he  would  never  trouble  them  again  if  during  their 
tobacco  harvest  they  would  always  set  aside  a  poi-tion  of  this  .sooth- 
ing plant  for  him.  lie  ki'])l  his  promise,  as  he  never  molested  them 
after  this. 

84.  S'lIAi;ol)lYOWKC^0OWA 

The  Onondaga  say  that  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  live  in  a  cave  among 
rocks  near  their  reservation.  They  assert  as  a  fact  that  the}'  have  seen 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa  going  along  in  front  of  these  rocks  and  entering 
the  cave,  and  they  believe  that  many  S'hagodiyowe(|gowa  live  in  that 
place.  Siiagodiyowe(|g()wa  are  represented  by  the  so-called  False 
Faces,  or  maskers,  of  the  Iioquois. 

85.  Genonsgwa 

Thi'ee  men  were  hunting  in  the  woods.  One  of  them,  who  was 
married,  had  his  wife  and  child  with  him.  \\'hile  the  men  were  off 
in  the  forest  the  woman  and  child  remained  in  the  lodge.  'I'he  ihild 
was  small  and  swathed  to  a  cradleboard. 


438  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  tuTH.  ann.  32 

One  day  when  the  woman  returned  to  the  lodge  with  water  from  a 
near-by  stream,  she  heard  talking,  and,  looking  into  the  lodge,  she  saw 
a  woman  dressed  in  stone.  The  woman  had  taken  up  the  baby  and 
was  rocking  it  on  her  loiee,  singing,  A'lnrah,  aSiicah  (such  good  eat- 
ing). Every  little  while  she  would  take  a  bite  out  of  the  child's 
cheek.  The  child  screamed.  Then  spitting  on  her  hand  and  rubbing 
the  cheek,  it  became  whole  again,  and  the  child  stopped  crying.  The 
mother  stood  near  the  door,  and  seeing  all  this,  was  terrified.  "  Now 
we  are  going  to  die,"  said  she  to  herself.  The  Genonsgwa  (Stone 
Coat  Woman)  looked  up,  and  on  seeing  the  mother  bade  her  come  in 
and  be  not  afraid,  as  all  would  be  well.  Toward  night  the  hunters 
returned.  When  they  saw  the  woman  dressed  in  stone,  they  were 
afraid,  but  the  Stone  Coat  Woman  said,  "  I  have  come  to  help  you 
in  hunting." 

So  they  all  lived  together.  The  men  went  hunting  day  after  day 
and  had  good  luck  in  finding  game  and  bringing  home  meat. 

One  evening  during  this  hunting  season  the  men  said,  "We  have 
found  a  pond  not  far  away  .that  has  a  great  many  beavers  in  it.'' 
The  Stone  Coat  Woman  said,  "  I  will  go  with  you  tomorrow."  The 
next  day  she  went  to  the  pond,  and  having  cut  a  small  circular  hole 
in  the  ice,  called  to  the  beavers  to  come  out.  A  number  came  out; 
these  she  caught  and  killed.  Then  she  called  again  and  more  came 
out ;  she  killed  them,  too,  and  so  she  continued  to  do  till  the  hunters 
had  as  many  as  they  wanted.  The  men  skinned  the  beavers  and  kept 
the  furs.    The  Stone  Coat  Woman  fell  to  eating  the  bodies  raw. 

One  morning  the  Stone  Coat  ^Voman  said  to  the  hunters:  "A 
visitor  is  coming,  and  you  must  do  all  you  can  to  defend  yourselves. 
My  husband  is  mad,  and  perhaps  he  will  kill  us  all.  Allien  I  'oft  him, 
I  ran  away  and  came  to  you ;  he  is  angr}'.  and  when  he  comes  I  will 
fight  with  him  as  well  as  I  can.  You  must  be  ready  with  a  basswood 
stick.  Sharpen  it  and  harden  it  in  the  fire  a  little  to  make  it  effective. 
AMien  he  throws  me  to  the  ground,  as  he  will  do,  you  must  spear  him 
from  behind  and  kill  him.  He  will  come  some  time  this  afternoon. 
Then  you  must  be  on  the  lookout  for  him  continually."  At  last  they 
saw  him  approaching;  he  came  up  and  talked  with  his  wife.  She 
begged  him  not  to  make  any  trouble,  saying  she  would  go  home  with 
him,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  her  words.  He  saw  there  were  two 
men  there;  so  he  became  jealous  and  began  fighting.  He  knocked 
down  his  wife,  and  as  he  leaned  over  to  beat  her,  the  men  ran  the  bass- 
wood  spear  into  his  body,  thus  killing  him.  Then  the  woman,  having 
gotten  up,  said :  '*  I  do  not  know  what  will  happen  to  us  now.  for  my 
husband  has  two  brothers,  who  know  he  is  dead,  and  who  will  come 
here  and  kill  us.  The  river  is  oj^en ;  you  have  canoes  and  must  escape 
that  way." 


^I'^l^^]  TIt\DITIONS  439 

The  Stone  Coat  Woman  then  went  off  alone:  the  others  took  to 
their  canoes.  As  they  were  pushing  out  into  the  river,  a  man  came 
to  the  shore,  calling  to  the  oarsman  to  come  back  a  moment;  refusing 
to  do  so,  he  pushed  fai'ther  out.  Thennipon  the  other  man  called 
out.  "It  is  lucky  lor  you  that  you  did  not  come  back,  for  I  came  to 
eat  you."    So  these  people  had  a  narrow  escape. 

86.  Genonsgwa 

A  long  while  ago.  while  some  Seneca  were  out  hunting,  a  Stone 
Coat  came  up  to  them,  saying:  "T  should  liiie  to  i-emain  licre  with 
you.  and  1  think  that  you  will  derive  good  luck  from  me.  You  can 
have  all  the  skins  you  need  and  moat  enough  to  li\e  on.  T  will  take 
the  rest."    The  Seneca  agreed  to  this. 

The  next  morning  the  hunters  had  great  luck  in  hunting.  When 
it  was  time  foi-  them  to  go  home  for  tlie  season,  the  Stone  Coat  said, 
"I  will  [lack  each  man's  load  of  meat  and  skins."  They  had  ilried 
meat,  buckskins,  and  furs.  The  Stone  Coat  packed  in  a  single  bundle 
what  he  thought  each  man  could  carry;  then  he  shook  each  bundle 
till  it  became  small.  He  told  the  men  to  cast  their  bundles  on  the 
gi-ound  when  they  got  home,  and  that  they  would  become  as  large  as 
when  he  began  to  pack  them.  Bidding  them  good-by,  the  Stone  Coat 
said.  "  I  hope  you  will  ail  come  to  this  place  next  winter;  then  we  can 
all  be  together  again." 

The  next  winter  these  hunters  went  back  to  the  same  hunting- 
ground,  whereupon  another  Stone  Coat  came  to  them,  who  said, 
"My  father  has  sent  me  here  to  bring  one  of  you  hunters  to  his 
home:  he  wants  him  as  a  son-in-law."  One  of  the  men  volunteered 
to  go,  saying.  "  l'rol)ably  we  shall  be  better  off;  perhaps  we  shall  live 
longer  by  doing  as  he  wishes";  so  he  accompanied  the  Stone  Coat. 
When  they  came  to  the  Stone  Coat's  hou.se.  the  old  man  said,  "  I  .-^ent 
my  son  to  bring  you  here.  I  want  you  to  marry  my  daughter,  ^'ou 
must  not  be  afraid.  I  w-ill  make  my  people  understand  that  they 
must  not  touch  nor  harm  you."  So  the  man  married  the  Stone  Coat's 
daughter,  although  the  old  man  said  that  his  peojjle  would  be  sur- 
prised at  his  giving  his  daughter  to  a  Seneca. 

The  Stone  Coat  rubbed  his  son-in-law's  hands,  feet,  and  body  with 
an  object  like  a  bone,  and  then  told  him  to  go  out  hunting.  The 
young  man  felt  himself  growing  so  strong  that  he  felt  he  could  carry 
oft'  e\erything  he  laid  his  eyes  on.  There  was  a  certain  young  man  of 
the  Stone  Croats  who  loved  the  old  Stone  Coat's  daughter  and  wanted 
to  marry  her.  Being  angry  with  the  Seneca,  he  came  up  to  him, 
saying,  "You  and  I  must  have  a  foot  race.  If  I  should  outrun  you, 
thereby  winning.  I  shall  cut  your  head  off  and  take  your  wife.  If 
you  win  you  may  cut  my  heail  off."    The  appointed  day  came,  and 


440  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ans.  32 

all  the  Stone  Coat  people  assembled  to  see  the  race.  The  young 
man's  father-in-law  said.  '*  You  need  not  be  afraid.  I  will  help  you." 
Taking  some  substance  out  of  a  stone  box,  he  rubbed  it  over  the 
man's  body.  Thereupon  he  and  his  opponent,  locking  arms,  ran  until 
they  reached  a  tree,  when  they  were  to  have  let  go  and  run  on,  but  the 
Stone  Coat  held  on  to  the  man's  hand,  so  that  their  locked  arms  bent 
over  the  hemlock  tree.  When  they  got  nearly  to  the  end  of  the  tree 
the  Stone  Coat  let  go,  causing  the  tree  to  spring  back,  throwing  tiie 
man  backward  a  good  distance.  The  young  man,  hurrying  forward, 
outran  the  Stone  Coat,  and  cut  his  head  ofl'  in  the  presence  of  all. 

87.  Genonsgwa 

Once  while  a  man  was  out  hunting  in  the  woods  he  saw  that  a 
Genonsgwa  was  following  him,  and  thereupon  he  began  to  run  for 
his  life.  Finally,  when  closely  pressed,  he  ran  up  on  a  tree  trunk 
which  in  falling  had  become  lodged  on  another.  The  Stone  Coat 
stopped  and  stood  looking  around,  but  he  could  not  find  the  man, 
for  his  body  was  rigid  on  account  of  his  Stone  Coat,  so  lie  could  not 
look  upward.  Then  the  man  saw  him  draw  from  his  pouch  a  magical 
finger,  which  he  placed  in  the  palm  of  his  hand.  The  finger  at  once 
raised  itself,  pointing  to  the  man  in  the  tree.  When  the  man,  who 
was  a  fast  runner,  saw  the  magical  finger  pointing  at  him  he  knew 
that  he  could  slip  down  from  thetree,  snatch  the  magical  finger,  and 
escape  with  it.  He  did  so.  Stone  Coat  shouted  after  him,  begging, 
praying,  and  promising  to  be  his  friend  forever  if  he  would  give  back 
the  magical  finger.  The  man  was  afraid  to  go  near  Stone  Coat  lest 
the  latter  might  deceive  and  seize  him;  so  finally  he  threw  the  magic 
finger  back  to  the  Stone  Coat.  Ever  after  this  particular  ruan  and  the 
Stone  Coat  were  on  friendly  terms. 

88.  Genonsgwa 

At  times  men  got  lost  while  hunting  in  tlie  foiTst,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed by  their  friends  that  Stone  Coats  ate  them. 

Once  three  Seneca  went  out  on  the  warpath  against  some  other 
tribes.  They  journeyed  directly  westward  from  the  place  where  the 
Seneca  lived.  After  a  day's  journey  they  encamped  in  a  deep  ravine 
at  the  head  of  a  stream.  When  they  had  made  their  fire  they  saw  a 
fine-looking  man  coming  towai'd  them.  AVhen  he  came  up,  he  said: 
"I  think  it  well  to  do  wliat  I  am  going  to  do.  I  have  come  to  tell 
\ou  that  there  are  hundreds  of  people  on  the  warpatli  who  intend  to 
eat  people.  Tonight  you  must  camp  here.  They  will  make  their 
camp  in  sight  of  yours.  One  of  you  three  must  go  to  tlieir  fire  and 
say:  'Hallo,  I  have  discovered  your  fire.  Where  are  j'ou  going?' 
They  will  answer:  '  We  are  on  the  warj^ath."    Your  man  must  reply: 


he«"tt]  TR.\Drri()NS  441 

"I,  too,  am  on  the  wariwth.'  to  whicli  tliey  will  respond:  "Well,  we 
must  fight."  Then  your  man  must  leave  them  and  come  back  to  your 
camp." 

The  SMieca  soon  afterward  saw  men  come  and  make  a  camp  a 
short  distance  away.  Thereupon  one  of  the  three  hunters,  drawinji 
near  them,  .said  :  ''  Ilalhi.  1  lia\ c  discovered  your  fire.  Where  are  you 
jroing^"  "We  are  on  tiie  warpath,"  they  replied.  "So  am  T,"  he 
answered.  Looking  around,  he  saw  stone  clothing  lying  against  ou'' 
of  the  trees,  while  the  owner  of  the  clothes  was  resting  on  the  ground. 
The  i)e()i)le  were  all  Stone  Croats.  The  next  morning  the  Stone  (\)at 
army  went  up  the  ravine  toward  the  Seneca  camp.  They  made  a 
terrible  noise,  for  all  the  army  sang.  "  We  are  going  to  eat  the  Seneca 
tribe."  When  the  Stone  Coat  force  had  gone  about  halfway  uj)  the 
ravine,  filling  tlie  entire  space  between  them  and  the  Seneca,  with 
a  great  whoop  they  ru.shed  forward.  But  at  that  moment  great  rocks 
rolled  down  on  them  and  great  trees  fell  on  them,  killing  them,  and 
the  Seneca  saw  a  strange,  wonderful  man  running  along  on  the 
top  of  the  rocks  and  trees.  Whenever  he  saw  a  Stone  Coat  head  in 
siglit,  he  would  hit  it.  killing  its  owner.  Only  one  Stone  Coat  was 
left  alive,  and  he.  having  escaped,  was  never  seen  again.  The  man 
wlio  was  throwing  down  the  rocks  .sang  all  the  time  that  the  Seneca 
tribe  could  stand  again.st  anything— again.st  the  world.  AVhen  the 
contest  was  over,  the  strange  man  came  to  the  three  men,  saying: 
"I  am  the  one  whom  you  call  Ilawenniyo.  Tt  is  I  who  sa\ed  you.  I 
(lid  not  make  those  Stone  Coats.  Something  else  made  tiiem."  And 
Ilawenniyo  said  further:  "I  want  you,  the  Seneca  people,  to  be  the 
most  active  of  all  trilics  in  every  kind  of  game  or  contest  and  in 
hunting.'' 

89.  (Jknonscwa 

AMien  the  Seneca  lived  at  Canaiiilaig\ia  one  of  their  medicine-men 
notified  them  that  something  terrible  was  about  to  happen,  something 
which  wotdd  cause  many  to  lose  their  lives.  \t  this  they  were  greatly 
frightened:  they  <]uarreled  with  one  another  and  became  suspicious 
even  of  their  own  children. 

One  night  a  great  uproar  was  heard  in  the  village,  and  jumping  up 
from  their  couches,  men.  women,  and  children,  running  out  of  their 
lodges,  fled  as  fast  as  they  could  in  e\ery  direction.  The  weather 
was  very  cold.  Among  the  peojile  of  the  village  was  a  woman  who 
two  days  before  had  given  birth  to  a  child.  She  ran  for  her  life, 
holding  the  infant  in  her  arms:  it  was  wrapped  up  and  she  carried  it 
as  a  bundle.  On  the  way  she  determined  to  throw  the  bundle  down 
so  as  to  be  able  to  run  faster,  and  on  coming  to  a  tree  having  a  hole 
in  one  side,  not  far  from  the  ground,  she  dropped  the  bundle  into  it. 


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

This  was  a  bear's  den,  and  as  the  bundle  fell  into  the  hole  the  old 
bear  found  it.  The  woman,  running  for  her  life,  overtook  some  of 
her  people,  who  asked  her  what  she  had  done  with  the  child,  but  she 
made  them  no  answer.  After  many  had  been  killed,  the  enemy  (who 
were  Indians)  disappeared,  and  the  Seneca  made  new  homes  for 
themselves. 

In  the  spring,  while  on  a  hunting  expedition,  a  man  came  to  a 
chestnut  grove,  where  he  camped.  The  next  day  while  hunting  he 
saw  a  she-bear  with  cubs.  He  killed  the  old  bear.  As  she  fell  over, 
she  struck  one  of  the  cubs,  which  cried  like  a  child,  while  the  other 
cubs  ran  up  a  tree.  The  hunter,  hearing  the  cry,  thought  it  very 
strange.  AVlien  he  came  near  the  spot,  he  saw  a  small  boy,  who  ran 
away  crying.  The  boy  was  so  wild  that  the  man  could  hardly  catch 
him.  He  cried  all  the  time.  The  hunter  said :  "  Stop  crying, 
nephew;  nothing  will  harm  you.  Stop,  nephew!"  The  little  fellow 
answer.ed :  "You  made  me  cry.  You  killed  my  mother;  you  have 
made  me  very  miserable.  Over  there  are  my  brothers"  (pointing  to 
the  tree).  "I  should  not  have  killed  your  mother  had  I  seen  you 
first,"  said  the  man;  "but  how  came  that  bear  to  be  your  mother?" 
The  boy,  who  was  covered  with  hair,  replied :  "  I  will  tell  you.  When 
your  people  fled  from  Canandaigua  in  the  evening  of  the  attack  on 
them,  I  was  thrown  away.  I  was  then  only  two  days  old,  but  I 
remember  everything.  I  knew  my  mother's  mind.  I  was  a  burden 
to  her  when  she  was  trying  to  escape,  so  she  dropped  me  into  the 
hollow  trunk  of  that  tree  over  there,  where  a  bear  happened  to  live. 
The  bear  caught  me  as  I  fell,  and  said  that  I  should  live  with  her 
children,  and  that  she  could  keep  us  all.  My  mother  threw  me  away 
to  die.    The  bear  is  the  mother  who  nursed  and  cared  for  me." 

"  Vei-y  well,"  said  the  man ;  "  I  know  this  is  true.  You  will  be  my 
son  now."  The  boy  did  not  like  this,  but  he  agreed  to  it  at  last.  The 
man  promised  that  all  he  had  or  would  get  should  be  his.  He  stopped 
crying,  and  the  man,  strapping  him  on  his  back,  carried  him  to  camp. 
After  this,  whenever  the  man  went  out  to  hunt,  he  tied  the  boy  so 
that  he  could  not  get  away,  until  one  day  the  boy  said,  "Do  not  tie 
me.  I  will  never  leave  you"  (his  nature  iiad  now  become  human). 
The  hunter  had  buried  the  mother  bear  without,  taking  off  her  skin. 
As  the  boy  had  promised  not  to  run  away,  the  man  let  him  go  with 
himself  to  hunt.  The  boy  seemed  to  have  some  way  of  knowing 
where  bears  lived,  but  he  never  told  his  father  where  a  female  bear 
was,  only  where  male  bears  wei'e  to  be  found,  and  his  father  shot 
them.  This  man  had  alwsiys  been  a  poor  himter  until  he  found  the 
boy;  afterward  he  had  wonderful  luck.  Some  time  having  passed, 
the  man  said.  "We  must  go  back  to  our  own  village."  When  they 
reached  home  tlie  boy  said,  "  That  woman  (meaning  his  motlier)  will 


ll^^l^{]  TR.\DITIONS  443 

see  and  loiow  me.''  "  Pay  no  attention  to  her."  said  the  man ;  "  she 
threw  you  awa}'." 

They  had  been  home  two  days,  wiien  the  woman  heard  tliat  the 
hunter  had  brought  back  a  littk'  boy  (the  hair  had  faUen  oil'  the  boy 
and  the  man  had  made  him  clothes).  Vi.siting  the  hunter's  lodf^e.  siie 
watched  every  movement  of  the  boy.  He  was  afraid  of  her;  he  knew 
her  thouojhts  when  siie  threw  him  into  the  tree  and  knew  them  now. 
He  said.  "This  man  is  my  father;  he  brought  me  home."  But  she 
made  up  her  mind  the  boy  was  hers  and  urged  him  to  go  home  with 
her.  One  day,  when  she  knew  the  hunter  was  away,  going  to  his 
lodge,  she  tried  to  catch  the  boy,  but  he  ran  into  the  woods,  crying 
from  fright.  She  followed  him.  The  himter  came  back,  and  not 
finding  the  child,  looked  for  tracks,  soon  tliscovering  that  the  boy  had 
fled  from  his  mother  into  the  woods.  The  man  was  sorry,  for  he  was 
afraid  he  would  never  see  the  boy  again.  He  searched  for  him  for 
several  days.  Then  he  happened  to  think  that  perhaps  he  had  gone 
to  their  old  hunting  lodge.  On  finding  him  there,  he  asked.  "  Wliy 
did  you  leave  me?  '"  The  boy  answei'ed  :  "A  woman  followed  me.  I 
thought  she  was  going  to  kill  me.  She  called  me  her  son.  I  did  not 
like  it.  I  told  her  I  had  no  mother,  but  she  tried  to  catch  me.  I 
would  rather  live  here  all  the  time."  The  man  was  willing,  so,  ha\ing 
built  a  better  lodge,  they  remained  thei-e.  The  boy  was  an  industrious 
worker  and  the  man  became  \  ery  fond  of  him.  One  day  the  boy  said, 
"I  want  a  playmate."  "  All  riglit,"  re])lied  tlie  hunter;  "your  mother 
is  going  to  have  a  child.  I  will  bring  it."  Tiiis  did  not  satisfy  the 
boy,  who  wanted  a  companion  near  his  own  age.  So.  going  to  the  set- 
tlement, they  brouglit  back  the  man's  si.ster"s  chihl,  who  was  only  n 
little  younger  tiian  the  bear-nursed  boy. 

Now  there  were  three  in  the  lodge.  W'licn  he  went  nit'  hunting 
the  man  often  left  the  boys  at  home,  telling  them  not  to  go  far  fi'om 
tiie  lodge.  After  the  lapse  of  time,  however,  they  began  to  venture 
farther  and  farther  away  from  (lie  lodge,  until  one  day,  when  tiiey 
were  (juite  far  oil'  they  saw  \\i;\{  the  leaves  and  gra.ss  and  hills  and 
valleys  and  everything  else  were  luoxing  together  westward.  Look- 
ing more  closely,  they  saw  a  huge  l.ody  ol  land  moving,  even  with 
game  on  it  and  moving  as  if  it  were  a  river.  Piesently  they  noticed 
a  coon  sitting  on  the  moving  ground  and  going  along  with  tiiis 
stream,  or  river,  of  land.^"'  AVatchiiig  it  made  them  forget  every- 
thing. As  the  coon  looked  at  the  itoys  they  were  about  to  shoot  it 
witii  their  bows  and  arrows;  one  indeed  drew  his  bow,  but  the  coon 
held  up  his  paw  against  his  face  to  ward  oiT  the  arrow.  At  last  the 
elder  boy  said:  "Let  us  go  liome  now;  we  will  come  here  tomorrow 
and  play  all  day." 

When  the  hunter  came  back  he  had  killed  several  hears  and  liad 
driven  one  to  the  lodge.     Calling  the  boys,  he  said,  "I  drove  this 


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

one  home  only  to  let  you  have  a  hand  in  killing  it."  Instead  of  kill- 
ing the  bear  at  once  they  plagued  and  tormented  it.  When  they  had 
killed  it  the  man  was  well  pleased  and  told  them  that  was  the  way 
they  must  do  thereafter. 

The  next  day,  as  usual,  the  man  when  starting  oflf  cautioned  the 
boys  not  to  go  far  from  the  lodge,  for  if  they  did  they  would  meet 
with  trouble.  But  they  were  so  anxious  to  see  the  place  where  they 
had  been  the  day  before  that  he  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  when  they 
startetl  off.  They  found  that  the  river  of  land  flowed  on  the  same  as 
it  had  the  day  before,  the  only  difference  being  that  it  was  running 
more  rapidly.  They  resolved  as  they  saw  the  animals  riding  on  it 
that  they  would  do  likewise.  The  younger  boy  rode  some  distance 
on  the  land  stream  (it  was  dry  land,  but  moving  just  like  a  river; 
it  was  not  wide,  for  a  person  could  jump  across  it).  When  the  boy 
came  back  he  said  to  the  other,  "  Go  and  try  it ;  it  is  great  fun." 
"  Well,  go  with  me,"  replied  the  other.  They  tried  it  together.  It 
was  like  sliding  down  hill;  instead  of  stepping  off  the  "river  of 
land"  they  would  fall  over  on  the  land  that  was  not  in  luotion,  and 
then  they  would  get  up  again.  The  smaller  003'  said,  "  Let  us  con- 
tinue on  this  stream  as  far  as  it  goes."  The  other  agreed  to  this. 
It  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  always  of  one  mind.  The 
smaller  one  said,  "  You  go  ahead."  "All  right,"  replied  the  other. 
He  ran  on  the  stream  and  the  other  followed.  They  were  having  a 
good  time,  as  they  could  hear  each  other  shout  and  laugh.  After 
going  some  distance  the  younger  one  decided  to  get  off'  and  run 
back,  so  he  called  out  to  the  other,  'il  will  go  back  but  will  come 
down  again."  It  seemed  to  them  exactly  like  sliding  down  hill;  it 
was  fun  to  run  upstream  as  well  as  ride  down.  As  the  younger  one 
got  on  again  to  go  down,  his  companion  passed  him.  running  up. 
It  seemed  that  they  were  going  faster  this  time,  and  when  both  were 
on  again,  one  called  out  to  the  other,  "  Let  us  go  as  far  as  we  can." 
Soon  they  came  to  a  place  where  everything  seemed  to  be  passing  in 
at  a  doorway.  The  boy  behind  saw  his  companion  go  in  at  the  door- 
way on  the  stream  of  land,  and  he  thought  it  was  great  sport.  At 
that  moment  he  heard  a  noise  from  within  which  sounded  as  though 
some  one  had  killed  his  friend:  then  he  too  went  in  at  the  doorway, 
only  to  find  that  it  was  a  place  to  snare  game,  and  that  no  one  could 
get  off  after  he  had  gone  so  far.  All  the  game  went  of  their  own 
volition,  even  as  they  themselves  had  gone.  The  instant  the  elder 
entered  the  doorway  the  man  of  the  lodge  hit  him  on  the  head  with  a 
hammer,  killing  him.    Both  boys  were  now  dead. 

Two  Genonsgwa  lived  in  this  lodge,  and  it  was  through  their  great 
orenda  (magic  power)  that  everything  was  drawn  to  them.  One  of 
the  two  said  to  the  other,  "  Hai !  now  we  will  have  something  to  eat," 
and  running  splints  through  the  bodies  of  the  boys,  each  took  one  to 


?,y;v"-?;]  TRADITIOXS  445 

roast.  The  two  (n-noiisf^wa  did  not  seem  to  be  of  the  same  family, 
for  each  sat  on  his  own  side  of  the  fire  and  cooked  for  himself.  As 
the  bodies  beijan  to  cook  the  fat  came  out,  falling  on  the  fire  and 
simmering.  A  body  was  standing  on  each  side  of  the  fire,  and  one 
called  out  to  the  other,  "You  arc  burning.""  "(I'l/ah/-'  said  the 
(ienonsgwa,  "that  one  has  a  voice,  but  this  one  is  roasting  finely;  it 
can  not  burn.  AMien  one  begins  to  burn  the  other  tells  him  of  it." 
One  of  the  Genon.sgwa  then  began  eating.  "  Oh  I  how  delicious  this 
is,"'  he  said,  smacking  his  li]is.  After  he  hail  eaten  off  all  the  fiesh 
that  was  well  cooked,  he  i)Ut  the  rest  back  to  finish  roasting;  there- 
upon the  partially  eaten  boy  said  to  the  body  on  the  otiier  side,  "  Vou 
are  burning.""  "  IIow  good  they  are:  they  won"t  let  each  othei'  burn. 
It  is  queer  game  that  talks  like  tl|is,""  said  one  of  the  Genonsgwa. 
The  Genonsgwa  kept  on  loasting  and  eating  until  one  and  then  the 
other  finished,  neither  leaving  a  jiai-ticle  uneaten. 

As  the  first  finished  he  began  to  be  in  terrible  jiain;  the  other  told 
him  that  he  nnist  help  himself,  for  he  was  eating  his  la.st  morsel. 
80011  he,  too,  began  to  groan,  and  he  saiil  to  the  other,  "There  is 
some  mystery  about  this  game:  it  must  be  that  which  makes  us  so 
sick."  All  night  long  they  groaned,  each  lying  on  his  own  side  of  the 
fire.  Toward  morning  one  (piieted  down,  and  at  break  of  day  the 
other  also  ceased  groaning.  The  two  boys  were  born  again,  and 
both  (ienonsgwa  had  died  from  the  terrible  pain  of  giving  birth  to 
them.  One  boy  said  to  the  othei-,  "  If  these  men  had  not  bothered 
us,  we  should  have  been  far  from  here.  Let  them  be  as  full  of  witch- 
craft as  they  can  be,  they  do  not  amount  to  anything  in  ccmipaiison 
with  us.  We  have  gotten  through  with  them.  I  have  always  heard 
that  these  men,  our  uncles,  were  \ery  potent  magically,  but  they  are 
not.  This  is  why  our  father  warned  us  not  to  go  far  from  the  lodge. 
We  will  go  back  and  tell  him  all.""  AVhile  they  were  there  everything 
W'as  moving.  The  game  which  was  not  killed  passed  through  the 
lodge.  The  elder  boy  said.  "  Let  us  go!  "  As  thev  were  starting  he 
saw  his  mother  passing  through  the  lodge:  they  stood  there  laughingly. 
but  did  not  speak  to  her.  The  younger  said,  "  Now  we  will  destroy 
the  lodge.  Our  uncles  have  done  great  harm  lo  people.  A  man  should 
not  cat  another  man.  There  shall  be  no  more  of  this.  Hencefoith 
men  shall  eat  only  game.""''"-  The  younger  boy  said  this.  Of  the 
two  boVs  he  had  the  greater  power  of  witchcraft  and  was  the  first  to 
be  boi-n  after  being  eaten  by  the  (ienonsgwa.  He  walked  around  the 
lodge,  throwing  reel  paint  such  as  they  used  to  paint  their  faces:  this 
action  stopped  the  movement  of  the  stream  of  land  and  everything 
became  quiet.  He  then  said.  "  Now.  let  us  run  I  ""  They  ran  a  short 
distance:  on  halting  and  looking  back  they  saw  the  lodge  in  fiames. 
The  Genonsgwa  one  after  the  other  burst  with  a  loud  report. 


446  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.ann.S2 

When  the  boys  arrived  near  home  they  heard  singing,  whereupon 
the  younger  said.  "  Our  father  is  feeling  bad  because  he  thinks  we  are 
dead."  Tlie  other  replied.  "  When  we  get  to  the  lodge,  you  will 
tell  him  of  our  adventure."  "  No ;  you  must  tell  him.  He  will  be- 
lieve you  sooner  than  he  will  me,  for  you  are  older,"  was  the  answer. 
When  they  entered  the  lodge,  the  hunter  was  sitting  by  the  fire ;  his 
song  was  about  the  loss  of  his  children.  "  Father,"  called  out  the 
boys,  "  we  have  been  hunting  and  we  have  come  back.  We  have  not 
been  killed  and  we  shall  not  die.  There  is  no  trouble  in  the  world 
for  us,  for  nothing  can  harm  us."  The  elder  man,  looking  around, 
greeted  his  boys,  whom  he  was  very  glad  to  see.  At  night  they  began 
telling  their  adventures:  How  far  they  had  been;  how  they  had  seen 
a  stream  of  dry  land  and  had  ridden  on  it  to  the  Genonsgwa  lodge; 
how  they  had  killed  the  two  Genonsgwa  and  burned  their  lodge. 
"And  now,"  said  the  j'ounger,"  "  we  are  going  farther."  The  hunter 
said :  "  Your  uncles  are  ferocious  men ;  they  have  killed  all  my  people 
except  you.  You  will  find  beyond  the  lodge  you  burned  other 
lo<lges;  they  are  all  inhabited  by  your  uncles."  The  younger  boy  said : 
"I  do  not  care  about  them.  I  meet  all  people  with  pleasure;  their 
action  or  treatment  matters  not.  I  am  determined  to  try  every- 
thing." The  man  made  up  his  mind  to  say  no  more;  he  was  aston- 
ished at  their  resolution  and  became  aware  that  his  children  were 
possessed  of  potent  orenda  (magic  power),  and  that,  though  there 
were  many  witches  and  wizards,  they  were  far  above  them  all.  The 
younger  boy  seemed  to  have  control  of  his  father's  mind,  and  it  was 
through  his  influence  that  the  father  let  them  do  as  they  liked.  The 
advice  of  the  younger  was :  "  You  stay  at  home  and  never  worry 
about  us.  AVe  will  go  to  see  our  uncle  who  lives  beyond  Genonsgwa 
lodge;  perhaps  he  will  tell  us  some  stories.  We  are  lonesome." 
Their  father  said.  "I  am  afraid  that  if  you  go  you  will  never  come 
back.  Your  uncle  is  full  of  orenda.  and  it  is  his  custom  to  kill  his 
visitors."  The  little  fellow  answered :  "  Let  us  go.  I  want  to  know 
all  persons  who  possess  orenda."  The  hunter  replied :  "  Beyond 
the  lodge  you  destroyed  is  another.  Your  imcle  lives  there,  and 
beyond  that  other  uncles  dwell.  The  first  lodge  is  'three  looks' 
from  here;  the  lodges  are  all  'three  looks'  apart."  Having  heard 
this,  the  boys  departed. 

When  they  came  to  the  Genonsgwa  place  they  halted;  looking 
around,  they  could  see  some  object  at  a  distance.  There  was  the  end 
of  the  first  "  look."  Getting  near  to  that  object,  they  looked  again, 
and  seeing  a  similar  object,  they  went  to  it;  then  looking  ofi:'  at  a 
distance  and  seeing  an  opening  in  the  woods,  they  said,  "Our  uncle 
must  live  there."  They  advanced  cautiously,  in  the  hope  of  surpris- 
ing their  uncle.  As  they  got  out  of  the  woods  they  saw  a  lodge, 
and  as  they  came  near  it  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  in  it,  all  was  so 


Z!"^^^^]  TRADITIONS  447 

quiet.  Tlie  younijpr  boy  crept  up  carofully,  and  makins;  a  sudden 
leap,  spraiifi  into  the  house,  calliiiii  out,  "I  have  caufrlit  you. 
uncle!"  "How  are  you,  nejihew  ?  "  said  the  uncle;  "I  am  iriad 
you  have  cotne.  I  am  sicU;  you  siiall  irive  me  medicine."  "\\[ 
rifrht,"  replied  the  youn<xer  boy,  "  whatever  you  wish  shall  be  done. 
What  is  it  you  take  most  pleasure  in  ^  "  "It  is  this,  nephew,"  said 
the  uncle.  "  When  a  person  comes  to  see  me  I  play  hide  and  seek. 
If  you  find  ine,  I  lose  my  head;  if  I  fiiul  you.  1  take  yours."  The 
boy  looked  around  everywhere.  The  lodse  was  entirely  empty,  but 
he  saw  hanp;inr>:  fiom  the  rafters  where  they  met  in  a  point,  a  very 
snudl  bag.  and  concluded  it  was  there  that  his  uncle  would  hide. 
The  uncle  told  the  boys  to  hide  first.  The  youn<;er  said.  "All  right," 
for  lie  had  decided  whore  to  hide.  As  was  usual  in  those  days, 
there  was  a  very  laige  log  on  the  fire,  and  the  fire  was  all  there  was 
within  the  walls  of  this  lodge.  The  old  man  said,  "The  finder  nnist 
go  over  the  to|)  of  the  hill,  and  when  the  hidcr  is  ready  he  must 
call."  Thereupon  the  old  man  went  out.  fastening  the  dooi-  behind 
him.  The  boys  heard  the  clatter  of  his  bones  as  he  ran  beyond  the 
hill.  The  younger  boy  said :  "  I  will  go  into  the  log  and  you  go 
behind  the  sun.  A^'hen  you  ai'o  ready  I  will  give  the  word."  The 
elder  bo}',  flying  off  through  the  air.  hid  behind  the  sun.  Then  the 
other  called  out,  "  Now,  ready  I  "  "  This  is  what  I  do  to  my 
nephews,"  said  the  old  man.  as  he  came  I'unning  into  the  lodge.  He 
e.xpected  to  find  them  sitting  around  somewhere,  but  seeing  no  one. 
he  caught  up  his  club  and  singing  out.  "Here  you  are;  come  out  of 
this."  he  struck  at  the  wall.  He  went  to  eveiy  part  of  the  lodge, 
saying,  as  he  hit  th(>  wall  with  the  club.  "Here  you  are;  come  out." 
The  boy  in  the  log  was  looking  at  his  uncle,  laughing;  the  boy 
behind  the  sun  was  also  watching  him.  and  could  see  the  club  as  it 
hit  the  walls  of  the  lodge.  When  the  old  man's  time  was  up.  he 
.said,  "Come  out.  I  can  not  find  you.  I  give  up."  As  he  said  this, 
the  nephew  b(>hind  the  sun  showed  himself,  and  laughing  at  the  old 
man.  came  down  to  the  lodge.  The  other  boy  crawled  out  on  his 
hands  and  knees  from  the  heart  of  the  log.  The  old  man,  laughuig 
loudly,  said.  "Now  I  will  hide;  you  go  beyond  the  hill,  and  when 
I  am  ready  I  will  call."  They  started  off  and  had  been  waiting 
some  time  when  they  heard  the  old  man  call,  "  Now.  ready  I  " 
At  this  they  ran  to  the  lodge.  The  younger,  picking  up  the  old 
man's  club,  did  as  he  had  done.  \t  every  crack  and  crevice  he  gave 
a  thump,  saying.  "You  are  here;  come  out."  He  was  sure  the  old 
num  was  in  the  bag,  but  he  kept  on  as  though  he  did  not  suspect  it. 
The  man  was  so  large  that,  even  after  making  himself  small,  he  was 
.so  crowded  that  the  boy  coidd  see  the  bag  move  occasionally.  At 
last,  going  lip  to  the  bag,  he  gave  it  a  heavy  thump  with  the  club, 


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

saying.  "  Come  out.  uncle !  "  The  old  man  came  out,  laughing,  and 
said,  "My  little  nephew,  you  are  full  of  sorcery;  no  one  ever  found 
me  before."  The  bo}'  said,  "  It  is  customary  when  a  person  makes 
a  bet  to  live  up  to  it.  You  have  lost  your  head."  The  man  begged 
his  nephews  to  give  him  time  to  smoke.  "  No,"  said  the  younger ; 
"  il  you  had  won,  I  should  not  \mve  asked  it."  Upon  this  he  ran  up. 
and  catching  his  uncle  by  the  hair,  cut  off  his  head.  .  Thereupon  the 
elder  boy  picked  it  up,  and  striking  it  against  a  ti"ee,  commanded 
that  trees  should  hereafter  have  heads  (knots)  on  them,  which  could 
be  used  to  make  ladles  and  bowls  (to  this  day  all  trees  with  knots 
have  the  uncle's  head  fastened  on  them).  Then  they  burned  the 
home.  The  elder  boy  said,  "  Our  uncle  has  delayed  us:  otherwise  we 
might  have  been  a  long  way  on  our  journey  by  this  time." 

The  youths  traveled  on  until  they  found  tracks,  and  not  long  after- 
ward they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  woods,  where  they  saw  a  lodge 
near  by.  The  younger  said,  "  You  stop,  and  I  will  go  to  this  lodge 
alone."  The  elder  boy  saw  his  brother  go  into  the  lodge:  then  he 
waited  a  long  time.  There  were  four  witches  in  this  lodge,  and  as 
soon  as  the  boy  went  in  the  old  woman  said,  "  Hurry  up !  get  the 
pot  over  the  fire."  The  boy  looked  on,  thinking  that  very  likely  they 
were  going  to  make  a  feast  for  him.  The  girls  were  sisters  of  the 
boys'  uncles.  The  elder  boy  getting  out  of  patience  waiting,  at  last 
called  his  fetish,  the  mole.  AVhen  it  came,  he  said :  "  I  have  called 
you  to  take  me  to  that  lodge.  My  friend  went  there,  and  I  wish  to 
see  what  has  become  of  him."  They  went  together  into  the  ground. 
He  told  the  mole  to  stop  in  front  of  the  younger  boy,  but  under- 
ground. The  women  were  such  witches  that  they  knew  when  anyone 
was  approaching.  When  the  old  woman  was  ready,  she  said  to  the 
boy,  "  Come  and  sit  on  this  side,"  and  to  her  eldest  daughter  she  said, 
"  Lay  a  skin  on  the  ground  and  put  on  the  skin  the  game  that  has 
come  to  see  us."  The  boy  knew  that  she  intended  to  kill  him.  An- 
other of  the  women  took  a  mallet  from  the  wall,  but  as  she  raised  it 
to  strike  him.  the  youth  said,  '"  Let  the  mallet  '^trike  the  ohl  woman.'" 
As  the  mallet  came  down,  it  struck  the  mother;  and  as  the  girl  raised 
it  again,  he  commanded  it  to  strike  one  of  the  sistei-s,  whereupon  they 
began  immediately  to  fight  among  themselves.  The  boy  sat  com- 
manding the  mallet  to  strike  first  one  and  then  another.  There  was  a 
terrible  struggle,  a  great  sound  of  blows,  and  at  last  there  was  silence. 
All  the  women  were  dead.  Then  a  voice  from  under  the  ground 
asked,  "What  are  you  doing,  brother?"  Knowing  that  it  was  his 
comrade  who  spoke,  he  said, ''  Oh  !  the  women  have  had  a  little  sport 
of  their  own."  "All  right."  said  a  voice  behind  him,  for  there  stood 
the  other  boy.  "  I  got  out  of  patience,"  said  he ;  "  we  might  have 
gone  a  long  way  on  our  journey  if  it  had  not  been  for  these  women. 
We  will  burn  up  their  lodge,  after  which  I  think  we  will  go  home. 


S^rm']  TR-VDITIOXS  449 

We  liave  done  harm  enoiifjli."  "  Wliat  have  we  done?"  said  the 
otiier;  "  we  have  only  put  an  end  to  man-eaters,  who  have  killed  many 
of  our  peoph'.""  "  \'ery  well,"  answered  the  othei-.  "  I  do  not  want 
my  mind  to  he  dill'erent  from  yours." 

■■  Tiiere  is  one  thing  still  to  he  done."  said  the  younsier  brotiiei', 
"and  when  we  have  finished  that,  everything  will  be  right;  but  before 
we  undertake  it  we  must  purify  ourselves.  We  will  go  to  the  river; 
you  must  be  very  careful.  I  will  go  first,  and  you  stay  on  the  bank. 
Unless  W'e  bathe  and  purify  our  bodie.s.  we  shall  meet  with  misfor- 
tune, for  many  of  the  peojile  where  we  are  going  are  filled  with  evil 
magic  power."  Coming  to  the  rivei',  they  found  very  thick  red 
water.  Tlie  elder  youth,  seeing  the  younger  go  into  this  water, 
thought  it  must  be  a  great  pleasure:  so  without  heeding  his  compan- 
ion's word  of  warning,  he  went  in  also,  whereupon  the  filth  of  the 
water  gathered  on  his  body  and  he  sank  out  of  sight.  His  brother 
had  great  trouble  in  saving  him.  "  Perliajis  we  are  sufficiently  puri- 
fied," said  the  younger;  "  thougii  if  you  had  waited  until  I  called 
you,  it  would  have  been  beltei'.  ^'ou  have  caused  me  to  fail  in  my 
purpose."  Ail  the  liltli  tiiat  had  gathered  on  his  body  dried,  so  he 
could  hardly  close  his  eyes.  It  was  as  much  as  the  other  could  do  to 
get  him  washed  clean.  At  last  he  was  as  liefore  he  jumped  into  the 
red  water.  Then  his  companion  saiil:  "  Xow,  let  us  go.  We  shall 
come  to  a  large  village  where  there  is  l)all  i)laying." 

They  soon  came  to  an  opening,  in  the  center  of  which  stood  a  pole, 
and  many  people  were  scattered  around.  .Vs  the  two  went  forwai-d 
the  younger  said  to  the  chief.  "  We  ha\e  come  to  challenge  you.  \Miat 
are  your  rules?"  "We  wagei-  our  heads  in  betting."  I'ejilied  tlie 
chief.  ''  I  thought  you  had  sometiiing  else  to  wager.  Everyone  .seems 
to  bet  heads."  saiil  tlie  ciiallenger.  lie  saw  there  were  many  animals 
around,  which  the.se  peoi)!e  fed  with  heads.  "There  must  be  two  on 
a  side."  said  the  boy.  'J'lie  ciiief  told  his  people  that  the  strangers 
challenged  them  to  a  game  of  lacrosse  ball  and  that  there  were  to  be 
two  j)layers  on  a  side.  "  lint  you  must  take  part  j-ourself."  said  the 
boy;  thereupon  cnTiunanding  a  sjjider  to  wea\e  a  web  across  the  ball 
ground,  so  that  the  iiall  rould  not  pass  it.  ^^'hen  the  game  began  the 
ball  flew  off  in  the  dii-eciion  of  the  spider's  web  and,  hitting  it.  was 
thrown  back.  The  elder  boy,  catching  the  ball,  ran  for  the  fir.'^t  i)oint. 
which  he  made,  thus  scoring  one  point,  at  which  he  called  out,  "  The 
game  is  mine:  we  have  won.  and  the  game  is  finished."  "No;  it  s 
not."  replied  the  chief.  "That  is  tlu>  way  we  play."  retorted  the 
younger  boy:  whoever  gets  one  inning  has  the  game."  The  chief 
assented,  saying.  "  You  have  won  the  lieads  of  the  men  you  played 
with."  "Not  true."  said  the  boy:  "we  bet  with  you:  no  matter  who 
did  the  playing  for  you."  Thereu[)on  the  elder  boy,  running  up, 
04615"— 10 2U 


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

caught  the  chief  by  the  hair  and  cut  his  head  off,  saying,  "  Do  not  let 
us  talk  with  the  fellow ;  if  it  had  not  been  for  him  we  might  have 
been  far  along  on  the  way."  The  chief  had  wolves,  panthers,  and  all 
kinds  of  carnivorous  animals.  Going  up  to  their  dens,  the  younger 
boy  ordered  a  panther  to  come  out,  which  it  did,  and  then  he  said  to 
it :  "  Your  masters  wanted  to  feed  you  with  human  flesh ;  that  is  not 
the  desire  of  Hawenniyo.  He  put  you  on  eai-th  to  be  free ;  henceforth 
you  must  never  allow  yourselves  to  be  captured  and  fed  with  human 
flesh."  All  the  animals  rose  and  separated.  To  the  bear  the  youth 
said :  "  I  wish  you  to  eat  that  dead  man's  body  that  lies  yonder. 
Then  go  and  never  be  seen  in  this  part  of  the  country  again;  your 
place  is  among  the  cliffs  and  mountains."  The  people  there  asked  the 
boys  to  be  their  chiefs,  saying  that  they  had  never  liked  the  old  man. 
The  boys,  having  agreed  to  this,  commanded  the  people  to  remain 
where  they  were,  as  it  was  not  the  will  of  Hawenniyo  that  his  people 
should  leave  their  old  homes. 

The  two  brothers  now  started  back,  saying  to  the  people :  "  Our 
father  will  wonder  why  we  do  not  return.  You  stay  here.  We  will 
come  sometime  to  see  you."  "Wlien  they  got  home  the  younger  one 
said,  "  We  have  finished  our  work  in  the  west ;  we  have  killed  all  the 
man-eaters.    There  will  be  no  more  trouble  of  this  Idnd  hereafter." 

90.  Bald  Eagle  Sends  Mud  Tuetle  Akound  the  World 

A  bald-headed  old  man  lived  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  while  his 
wife,  who  had  three  children,  lived  near  a  lake  about  half  the  way  to 
the  summit.  It  was  the  old  man's  daily  custom  to  go  down  to  fish 
in  the  lake.  On  his  way  home  he  gave  some  fish  to  his  wife,  and 
thus  they  lived  well  and  prosperously. 

After  he  had  lived  in  this  way  many  years,  the  old  man  became 
curious  to  know  how  large  the  world  is.  Being  the  chief  of  his 
people,  having  called  a  council,  he  said  to  the  people :  "  I  should  like 
to  know  the  size  of  the  world,  and  I  wish  some  one  would  volunteer 
to  go  and  get  this  information."  One  j'oung  man  said,  "  I  will  go." 
"All  right,"  answered  the  old  man;  "how  long  will  you  be  gone?" 
"  I  can  not  tell,  for  I  do  not  know  how  far  I  shall  have  to  go,"  was 
the  answer  of  the  young  man.  "  Go  on,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  and 
when  you  return,  tell  us  all  about  your  journey." 

The  young  man  started  on  his  journey,  and  after  traveling  two 
months  he  came  to  a  country  where  everything  was  white — the  for- 
ests, the  ground,  the  water,  and  the  grasses.  He  could  not  go  farther. 
It  hurt  his  feet  to  walk  on  the  white  substance,  so  he  turned  back. 
On  returning  home  he  sent  word  to  the  chief,  who  said,  "  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  has  been  aroimd  the  world,  but  we  shall  hold  a  council  and 
hear  what  he  has  to  say."    The  council  was  held,  at  which  the  young 


SeIw]  traditions  451 

man  said  that  ho  had  iidt  ffone  very  far.  hut  that  he  had  proceeded  as 
tar  as  lie  was  able,  and  he  told  all  he  knew  about  the  ^Vhite  Country. 

I'he  people,  not  satisfied  w  ith  his  relation,  said.  "  AVe  must  send 
another  niaii'";  so  they  despatclied  a  second  man,  who  was  gone  four 
months  i)efore  he  returned.  The  old  man  apain  called  a  council,  at 
which  he  asked  him,  "Did  y<'ii  '~.^>  arouml  the  world?"  "No,  but  I 
went  as  far  as  I  was  alile,''  answered  the  man.  "  Everythinsr  was  as' 
it  is  here  until  I  came  to  the  White  Country.  I  tra\eled  two  months 
in  tiic  AMiite  Country  and  could  go  no  fartlier.  I  could  not  have 
li\ed  if  I  had  gone  on." 

So  the  peojjle  sent  a  third  man.  wlio  went  on  until  he  reached  the 
AMiite  Country,  where  he  traveh'd  longer  than  the  secund  man.  On 
coming  back  he  reported  that  the  people  there  li\ed  in  white  houses 
and  dres.sed  in  furs  (looking  like  the  animals). 

Encouraged  by  this,  the  old  uuin  .scut  a  fourth  uian,  who  went  on, 
noticing  e\erytliing.  until  he  came  to  the  \\'hite  Country,  whereupon 
he  crossed  white  rivei's  and  white  lakes,  keeping  on  the  run.  He  was 
gone  eight  month.s.  He  said,  "  I  returned  more  quickly  than  I  went, 
for  in  coming  home  I  cut  across  in  a  straight  line,  reaching  the  green 
land  sooner  than  if  I  had  come  on  the  road  liy  which  I  went." 

The  old  chief  now  sent  a  fifth  messenger,  wlut  ran  nearly  all  the 
time.  He  cros.sed  the  White  Country  and  beyond  found  a  phice  where 
there  was  nothing  but  rocks,  rocks,  rocks.  He  had  to  climb  very  high 
and  then  go  down;  so  he  went  up  aTid  down  until  he  wore  oil  all  his 
moccasins.  After  being  gtme  ten  months  he  came  back.  At  a  council 
called  by  the  old  man  this  fifth  man  said:  "I  have  ])assed  over  the 
whole  country  and  have  crossed  rocky  places.  In  returning  1  came 
straight  home.  The  route  was  not  cpiite  so  long  as  the  road  by  which 
1  went.  It  can  not  be  very  far  across  the  woi'ld.""  "How  did  you 
k'nnw  the  way '^  "  asked  the  old  man.  "  ( )h  !  I  took  notice  of  the  trees. 
The  tops  of  the  hemlocks  lean  toward  the  east,  and  our  honu'  is  in 
that  direction,  so  I  followed  the  bend  of  the  heudocks,"  was  the  man's 
reply. 

The  old  man,  the  bald-headed  chief,  was  learning  something  all 
the  time.  \'arious  peo])le  went,  oiu>  after  another:  each  canu'  back 
with  a  story  slightly  difl'erent  from  tho.se  told  by  the  others,  but  still 
r.o  one  satisfied  the  chief  until  one  nuin  said:  "  I  will  start  and  will 
go  around  the  world  before  I  retui-n."  The  old  man  looked  at  him: 
he  was  very  uncouth  but  strong.  The  chief  said:  "  I  think  you  will 
do.  and  you  may  go."  Thereupon  the  man  went  home  to  his  ]3eople, 
who  held  a  council  of  their  entire  tribe.  Each  one  of  their  best  travel- 
ers agreed  to  make  a  journey  by  himself  in  a  different  direction,  and 
afterward  to  come  home  and  tell  all  he  had  seen  to  the  one  who  had 
promised  the  bald-headed  man  to  go  around  the  world.  So  the  man 
and  his  whole  tribe  journeyed  for  forty  months.     .\t  the  end  (jf  this 


452  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  Ietii.  ANN.  32 

period  they  retmned,  and,  at  a  council,  each  told  what  he  had  seen. 
Then  the  old  man  whom  the  chief  had  sent  out  announced  his  return. 
The  chief  called  a  great  council,  before  which  the  man  appeared, 
telling  all  that  he  had  seen  himself  and  all  that  each  one  of  his  nation 
had  seen  and  related  to  him.  He  finished  with  the  words:  "I  have 
been  all  around  the  world ;  I  have  seen  all  kinds  of  people,  all  kinds 
of  game,  all  kinds  of  woods  and  rivers.  I  have  seen  things  which 
no  one  else  has  ever  seen." 

The  old  bald-headed  man  was  satisfied.  "  Now  I  am  chief  of  all 
people,  and  you  will  be  next  to  me.  You  will  be  second  chief."  This 
was  the  reward  the  man  got  for  his  journey.  So  he  immediately 
took  his  position  as  second  chief. 

The  old  chief  was  the  Bald  Eagle.  The  man  who  became  the 
second  chief  was  the  Mud  Turtle.  The  first  man  who  went  out  was 
the  Deer;  his  feet  could  not  stand  the  ice  of  the  White  Land.  Al! 
the  others  were  different  kinds  of  people  (animals  and  birds). 

91.  The  Poor  Hunter  and  Djogeon  ^" 

Once  there  was  a  man  who  went  hunting  every  autumn.  In  order 
to  have  better  luck  he  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  medicine  and  emetics 
for  10  days  before  he  started.  The  medicine  he  employed  was  made 
fi-om  the  bark  of  various  trees.  Notwithstanding  this  long  prepara- 
tion by  fasting  and  medication,  he  was  not  a  successful  hunter.  For 
this  reason  he  was  accustomed  to  cai-ry  a  heavy  load  of  parched  corn- 
meal,  so  that  if  he  killed  no  game  he  would  at  least  not  starve  to 
death. 

When  starting  out  one  day  he  passed  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village 
a  lodge  in  which  an  old  woman  and  her  granddaughter  lived.  As  he 
passed,  the  granddaughter  was  standing  outside  the  lodge,  and  when 
she  saw  him  coming  she  shrugged  her  shoulders,  saying,  "/7(/,  hu! 
there  goes  a  poor  hunter."  Running  into  the  lodge  she  told  her 
grandmother  that  "All-kinds-of-trees "  had  just  gone  past,  giving 
him  a  nickname  which  derided  his  medicines,  which  wei-e  made  from 
the  bark  of  "  all  kinds  of  trees."  But  the  grandmother  cliided  her, 
saying,  "  Why  do  you  make  fun  of  him?  He  is  a  good  man — the  best 
in  this  village.  He  keeps  on  hunting,  no  matter  whether  he  kills  any- 
thing or  not.  I  wish  he  were  your  husband."  The  young  woman 
answered,  "  If  you  say  so,  I  can  go  with  him."  Her  grandmother 
told  her  that  she  would  better  go.  So  they  made  bread  in  gi-eat  haste, 
and  when  it  was  ready  they  put  it  in  a  basket,  which  the  girl  placed 
on  her  back;  then  she  followed  the  trail  of  the  man.  When  night 
overtook  her  she  lay  down  beside  a  log  to  sleep.  She  had  not  been 
there  long  before  she  heard  some  one  at  a  distance  calling  in  a  pleas- 
ant voice.     As  the  sound  of  the  voice  approached  the  girl  became 


J^,"^;;^,',y  TBADTTIOXS  453 

fiighteiiod.  Slutrtly  Djoyeou  ciuiie  up  to  her.  sayiiiir.  lau<.'liiii<:Iy, 
"  Ha.  ha  !  'I'herc  is  (ia(hita  -'"^  sh'i'piiig.  and  she  is  following  Ihv  trail 
of  a  ver\  poor  hiintei'.  (it'tiip.  Do  not  slee]).  Your  man  is  near  here, 
and  you  slioukl  go  to  meet  him."  But  the  girl,  covei'ing  her  face, 
kejit  (juite  still.  He  shook  hei-.  called  her  names,  and  teased  her  in 
all  manner  of  ways  to  seduce  liei-,  but  w  ithout  result.  When  daylight 
came  he  ran  away.  Thereupon  ( iadata  arose,  and  after  making  a  cold 
l)ite  do  foi-  breakfast,  she  again  took  up  the  ti'ail.  ,Iust  as  she  had 
l)i'en  t<il<l,  she  found  the  camp  of  the  huntei-  not  far  from  the  s]iot 
where  she  had  sle[)t  the  night  before.  ^Vhen  the  hunter  saw  her.  he 
said  to  her,  "Are  you  following  me  ^  "  She  replied,  "Yes.  My 
grandmothei'  told  me  that  I  should  try  to  become  your  wife,  as  she 
said  you  are  a  good  man."  lie  then  welcomed  her.  anil  they  went  on 
togetlu'f.  \t  mid<lay  he  ate  some  of  the  bread  which  the  young 
woman  had  bi-ought,  and  in  the  afti'rnoon  he  kille<l  a  deer.  After 
this  he  had  very  good  luck  al  all  times,  for  he  had  a  wife. 

One  day  while  he  was  hunting  he  saw  a  small  lodge,  whereu})on  he 
said  to  himself,  "How  strange  it  is  that  I  never  before  saw  this 
liidire."  On  ent(>i'ing  a  small  wonum  welcomed  iiim  and  ga\e  him  a 
bowlful  of  fine  green-coi'n  hominy.  While  he  was  eating  it  he  saw  a 
wee,  tiny  baby.  Seizing  the  infant  and  jilacing  it  in  his  bosom,  he 
ran  away  with  it.  the  little  woman  pui-suing  him.  Inuuediately  there 
was  a  tempest.  'Ihe  wind  twisted  trees  and  toi'e  them  U])  by  the 
roots,  sending  them  flying  through  tlH>  air  in  every  direction. 
(ii'i]iped  with  great  fear,  the  hunter  now  thought  that  he  was  surely 
about  to  die.  As  he  was  running  past  a  fallen  ti'ee  a  small  man. 
s]iringing  upon  it  (it  was  he  who  had  (ormented  (Iadata).  calleil  out 
(o  the  huntei'.  "  You  ha\e  .stolen  my  baby.  (ii\e  it  back  to  me  at  once."' 
'J'he  hunter  stojiped,  saying.  "  ^'es.  I  stole  it  because  I  never  saw  he- 
fore  anything  so  pretty,  llei-e  it  is — take  it."  So  saying,  he  handed 
it  ba('k  to  the  little  man.  who  was  Djogeon.  Then  Djogeon  <'ai-efidly 
unwra])|)ed  the  baby,  and  taking  a  tiny  arrow  from  among  its  w  ra|)- 
jiings,  ga\e  it  to  the  hunter,  saying  to  him:  "Tak'e  this  and  keep  it. 
It  will  bring  you  good  fortune  and  success  in  all  your  undertakings — 
in  hunting,  in  warfaic.  or  in  any  other  i)ursuit."'  As  soon  as  the 
huntei-  had  I'eturned  (he  baby,  the  tempest  ceased  and  the  winds 
calmed  down.  Then  the  hunter  retui'ned  to  his  home  with  his  wife 
and  always  after  this  episode  had  the  best  of  fortune. 

9'J.  Tin:   .Man   Kii.i.i;u   uv  tiii.  Tiiukk   HrNTKRS^"" 

A  man  with  his  wife  aiul  I'liild  lived  hapi)ily  together  in  a  village. 
One  day  the  man  said  to  his  little  family.  "  A\'e  will  start  oil'  to  the 
woods  tomorrow  to  hunt."  They  set  out  the  ne.\t  <lay  and  v  ere  two 
davs  and  nights  on  the  road.     Havinir  reached  their  destination,  fhev 


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

built  a  fire,  and  the  man  started  off  hunting,  telling  his  wife  to  boil 
samp  and  that  he  would  be  back  in  time  to  put  meat  with  it.  He 
went  up  a  stream  and  came  back  in  time  with  game.  Having  cut  up 
some  of  the  meat,  his  wife  put  it  with  the  samp.  About  dusk  supper 
was  ready  and  they  ate  heartily.  The  man  continued  to  hunt  every 
day,  killing  one  to  three  deer,  and  also  bear,  so  they  soon  had  a  gi'eat 
deal  of  dried  venison  and  bear  meat,  whereupon  the  man  said.  "  We 
■shall  soon  have  plenty  of  meat." 

One  night  he  said  that  .he  dreamed  there  were  other  hunters  near  by 
who  could  kill  nothing.  Now  this  man  had  four  dogs.  One  day  he 
met  a  man  who  said  that  he  could  kill  nothing;  that  he  had  three 
companions  who  could  find  no  game  in  the  wood ;  and  that  the  three 
had  nothing  to  eat.  2\jiother  day  the  man  met  the  same  three  hunters 
in  the  woods.  They  asked  him  whether  he  would  not  give  them  some 
meat,  something  to  eat.  ''  No ;  I  will  not,"  said  he ;  "  I  have  told  my 
wife  that  we  would  stay  long  enough  to  get  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
meat.    I  have  nothing  to  give  away."    So  saying,  he  went  home. 

The  next  morning  his  wife  went  for  a  load  of  wood,  leaving  her 
child  in  a  swing  in  the  lodge.  When  she  returned  she  heard  some- 
body talking  to  her  baby.  She  was  frightened  at  this,  for  she  thought 
it  must  be  Genonsgwa.  The  words  were,  "  You  look  very  sweet  to 
me."  On  going  in,  the  mother  saw  a  large  naked  woman  sitting  by 
the  swinging  cradle,  who  said:  "  I  Iniow  just  what  j'ou  thought  when 
you  heard  me  singing.  You  gave  yourself  up  for  lost.  I  am  not 
going  to  harm  you.  1  came  in  to  get  something  to  eat.  Perhaps  you 
would  give  me  some  meat."  She  replied,  "  I  will  give  you  some,  for 
you  seem  very  kind  and  good."  With  these  words  she  took  two  or 
three  pieces  of  meat  from  the  side  of  the  lodge,  saying,  "  I  will  cook 
them  for  you."  "  No,"  said  the  naked  woman ;  "  I  will  eat  the  meat 
as  it  is."  After  eating  three  hams  of  venison  slie  asked  for  more, 
"  For,"  said  she,  "  I  eat  a  great  deal  when  I  get  started."  When  she 
had  eaten  enough,  she  said,  "  I  have  finished  now.  I  shall  go  and 
come  again."  The  woman  watched  her  as  she  went  out,  saying  to 
herself,  "  That  woman  looks  very  savage."  The  naked  woman,  turn- 
ing to  her,  said,  "  I  am  Genonsgwa."  When  he  came  the  woman  told 
her  husband  what  had  happened. 

Early  the  next  morning  her  husband  went  hunting.  At  night  the 
dogs  began  to  bark  and  became  terribly  frightened.  The  husband 
said,  "  I  think  that  Genonsgwa  is  going  to  come  and  kill  us.  You 
would  better  go  home  with  the  child."  "  I  will  stay  with  you  and  will 
be  killed,  if  necessary,"  replied  the  woman.  She  begged  her  hus- 
band to  go  with  her,  but  he  said,  "No;  I  will  stay  and  save  our 
meat."  Then  he  heard  the  bushes  around  the  lodge  breaking  and  a 
wind  blowing  down  the  smoke-hole. 


CDIIT 
H5WI 


'^.^]  TR.\DITIONS  455 


The  next  niglit  they  heard  Komethiug  again  coming  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  tlie  dogs  were  greatly  frightened.  Then  a  face  looiced 
down  through  the  smoke-hole  from  the  top  of  the  lodge — the  face 
of  one  of  the  three  hunters.  Making  a  hole  tlirough  the  bark  wall 
of  the  lodge,  tiie  man  said  to  his  wife,  "Creep  through  and  escape," 
but  she  did  not  want  to  go.  The  dogs  began  to  bark  at  a  distance 
on  the  side  o])()osite  the  hole  in  the  wall,  coming  closer  to  the  lodge, 
and  again  he  told  his  wife  to  creep  through  the  hole  and  hurr\'  away 
on  a  side  trail.  Having  done  so,  she  started  oil'  witli  tlic  bab\'  on 
her  back.  She  went  on,  and  by  and  by  she  iieard  a  dog  jiowl. 
'JMie  dog.  coming  up  to  her.  saiii.  ""  \ Our  husband  is  killed." 
Keeping  on  a  little  way  farther,  she  hoard  a  sect)n(l  dog  malcing  a 
noise  as  though  dying.  The  first  dog  said.  "  Clo  on  as  fast  as  you 
can;  sa\e  yourself."  Only  two  dogs  weie  left  now.  Tlie  woman 
remembei'ed  a  place  through  wiiich  they  had  come  on  the  wa\'  to 
the  woods — a  hollow  log — but  she  feared  (hat  when  the  men  came 
up  they  might  run  a  stick  into  it,  causing  th(>  bal)y  to  ci'v.  Next  day 
she  climbed  a  hemlock  tree,  hi<ling  lierself  and  the  child  in  its 
branches.  She  said  to  the  little  one,  ''Now  you  must  be  good  and 
keep  (|uict."  After  the  woman  had  become  somewhat  rested,  she  saw 
the  three  men  coming  with  loads  of  meat  on  their  bacivs,  engaged  in 
talking  about  how  they  got  the  good  venison.  They  stopjicd  undei- 
the  henijock  tri'c  in  wliich  the  woman  and  her  baby  were  resting. 
^Viiiie  tiie  men  were  lying  below  the  child  made  water,  whereu]ion 
the  woman,  thinking  how  she  could  save  hei-.self  and  the  little  one, 
caught  the  watei-  in  her  hands  and  drank  it.  One  di'op.  howexcr, 
fell  on  a  man  directly  Iteneath  her,  at  which  he  said,  "  Thei-e  must 
be  a  hedgehog  in  this  tree;  we  will  cut  it  down  in  the  morning."  At 
daylight  one  of  the  hunters  said,  "Let  us  go  on."  AVhen  they  were 
out  of  sight,  the  woman,  coming  down  from  the  tree,  went  homeward. 

t)n  the  way  the  mother  said  to  her  child,  "  You  have  now  no 
father,  poor  baby."  When  she  was  near  home  she  saw  that  tliere 
was  a  light  there.  The  three  men.  having  parted,  went  to  their 
homes.  The  woman  hurried  on,  crying,  Oo'ircli!  r/o'ireh!  meaning 
that  a  man  had  been  killed.  The  people  who  heard  the  cry  huri-ied 
to  meet  her.  She  told  everything.  Taking  hei'  home,  they  i)ut  her 
in  her  lodge.  An  old  man  came  to  the  lodge  and  asked,  "Are  you 
telling  the  truth?"  "Yes,"  she  replied.  "Well,  we  will  have  a 
dance,"  said  he,  "  and  call  the  neighbors  together.  You  nuist  hide 
so  that  nobody  will  see  you."  lie  hung  up  a  blanket  in  a  corner  of 
the  Long  Lodge,  and  when  the  people  were  coming  in  she  hid  behinil 
it.  AVhen  the  ])eople  were  dancing  one  of  the  three  hunters  came 
with  blood  on  his  clothes,  while  the  other  two  had  blood  on 
their  backs.  The  old  man  said  to  them,  "  Your  backs  arc  all  bloody." 
"  Yes;  we  are  good  hunters,"  they  replied ;  then  they  danced  a  while — 


456  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  Ietii.  ann.  32 

the  women  first,  then  the  men.  After  fastening  the  door  the  old  man 
asked  the  three  men  about  their  hunting.  He  said  they  should  dance 
once  more,  and  then  they  would  talk  a  little.  All  felt  free  and 
happy,  and  one  of  the  three  men  was  talking  pretty  loud.  The 
people  danced  again,  and  having  finished,  sat  around  a  while.  Then 
the  old  man  said,  "  I  will  ask  these  three  men  whether  they  are  free 
of  crimes  during  their  absence."  They  replied,  "  We  are;  we  hunted 
all  the  time."  Thereupon  the  old  man  brought  out  the  woman,  who 
told  all.  The  old  man  next  called  on  the  warriors  present  to  kill 
these  three  men,  and  they  did  so,  afterward  scalping  them  one  after 
another.  Then  the  people,  going  to  the  lodge  in  the  woods,  brought 
home  the  body  of  the  dead  man  in  a  robe. 

93.    HiNON  ^'^    AND    THE    IroQUOIS 

In  olden  times  there  was  in  a  certain  village  an  orphan  lad.  who 
had  always  been  regarded  as  a  very  peculiar  child  by  all  his  friends. 
Ho  was,  moreover,  without  relatives  and  very  destitute,  so  he  was 
cared  for  largely  by  the  kindness  of  the  people  in  general. 

The  boy  seemed  to  laiow  intuitively  many  things  that  other  and 
older  people  did  not  know,  and  it  was  a  custom  for  him  to  bring 
up  and  talk  about  many  mysterious  topics.  Quite  often  when  it 
rained  he  would  say  that  he  could  see  Hinon  walking  about  in 
the  clouds  above  their  heads,  and  he  would  ask  those  who  might  be 
near  him  whether  they,  too,  did  not  see  Hinon,  at  the  same  time 
pointing  him  out  to  them. 

At  last  the  orphan  requested  the  people  to  be  so  good  as  to  make 
him  an  arrow  of  red  willow  and  also  a  bow,  assuring  them  that 
he  would  shoot  Hinon.  So  they  made  him  a  bow  and  an  arrow  out 
of  red  willow.  One  day.  while  standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  bark 
lodge  which  he  called  his  home,  during  a  passing  storm  he  suddenly 
shot  at  Hinon.  the  arrow  swiftly  winging  its  way  into  the  clouds. 
Soon  the  people  saw  it  come  down  near  a  large  tree  some  distance 
from  the  lodge.  Rushing  to  see  it,  they  found  it  sticking  in  the 
ground,  but  there  was  no  man  nor  other  object  near  it;  but  they 
could  not  pull  the  arrow  from  the  ground,  no  matter  how  much  they 
tried.  Thereupon,  returning  to  the  boy,  they  told  him  what  they 
had  discovered,  and  that  they  could  not  draw  his  arrow  from  the 
ground.  As  an  answer  to  them  he  accompanied  them  back  to  the 
tree  and,  taking  hold  of  the  arrow,  diew  it  forth  without  trouble; 
but  as  he  did  so  there  appeared  the  body  of  a  dead  human  being, 
which  had  been  shot  through  the  heart  by  his  arrow.  It  was  the 
body  of  a  small  person,  not  more  than  four  or  five  feet  in  height, 
beautifidly  ornamented  with  the  finest  feathers  they  had  ever  seen. 
The  people  constructed  a  neat  little  lodge  of  bark,  which  thej-  lined 


^^-S]  TALES  457 

with  fine  skins  and  furs.  In  this  they  carefully  and  reverently  laid 
the  body  of  the  stranp:L'  persona<::e.  From  time  to  time  they  would 
ero  to  tiiis  lodjre  to  view  the  hotly,  \\hen  they  were  gointr  to  war 
they  would  take  two  or  three  featliers  fi-om  his  arms,  in  tlie  lielief 
that  tliese  would  secure  them  success.  If  they  wished  for  rain,  they 
iiad  only  to  carrv'  these  feathers  alon<r  after  dippin*;  them  in  water. 
All  their  trails  were  obscured  in  this  manner.  Tiie  i)eople  ke|)t  this 
body  many  yeai's.  and  the  feathers  served  them  durin<r  this  time:  but 
after  the  advent  of  the  whites  these  Indians,  beinjr  dri\('n  fi-om 
their  home  in  the  south  (North  Carolina),  lost  both  the  liody  and 
the  feathers. 

TALES 
01.  A  Shaman's  Dkkh 

A  medicine-inan  inana<;(Hl  to  <iet  one  hair  from  tiie  head  of  a  luan 
he  wisiied  to  kill.  Then,  having  caught  a  snake,  he  tied  the  hair 
around  its  neck,  and  digging  a  hole  in  the  ground,  he  put  the  snake 
therein,  not  leaving  an  opening  large  enough  even  for  an  ant  to  get 
through.     After  putting  a  stone  over  the  hole,  he  left  the  i)lace. 

It  was  impossible  for  the  snake  to  escape,  so  after  a  while  it  gi-ew 
weak,  and  the  man  whose  hair  was  around  its  neck  grew  weak  at 
the  same  time.  At  last  the  snake  died,  and  in  consequence  of  its 
death  the  man  also  came  to  his  end. 

95.  S"iiA(;iii)iY()WKQ(;owA 

(  MODKUN  ) 

There  is  a  man  now  (18S;^)  in  Canada  who  sees  real  S'hagodiyow- 
eqgowa — False  Faces.  He  goes  ai'ound  a  gieat  deal  among  tiie  va- 
rious ti'ilies  of  Indians. 

One  day  while  on  his  travels  he  met  a  Siiagodiyowetigowa.  who 
spoke  to  him.  The  man  handed  him  a  plug  of  tobacco,  telling  him 
that  he  might  ha\e  the  toliacro  to  smoke.  After  the  man  had  gone 
to  the  end  of  his  journey  and  was  coming  home  he  met  a  S'hagodi- 
voweqgowa  near  the  same  spot,  with  his  back  toward  him.  Seeing 
that  this  was  a  different  one.  he  passed  by  without  speaking.  Soon 
a  I'terw  ;ir(l  he  met  the  one  he  had  encountered  before.  Saluting  him, 
the  man  ga\  e  him  another  |)big  of  tobacco,  whereui)on  the  False  Face 
said.  "1  think  you  would  belter  come  and  see  where  we  live."  ''I 
shall  be  glad  to  go,"  said  he  in  reply.  Arriving  at  a  cave  in  a  rocky 
place,  they  went  in.  The  man  saw  a  great  nuuiy  .S'iuigodiyowe(igowa 
there  who  were  very  old,  and  a  good  many  very  young  ones.  The 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa  gave  the  tobacco  to  the  oldest  one.  who  said. 
■•  You  would  better  give  a  piece  of  this  to  each  one  present."     tjo  he 


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

cut  it  into  small  pieces  for  the  purpose.  Then  the  oldest  one  said, 
"  Give  thanks,"  whereuijon  they  gave  thanks  to  the  Tobacco,  and  all 
danced,  the  little  ones,  too,  and  asked  this  man  to  dance,  and  he  did 
so.  When  the  man  was  going  away  the  oldest  S'hagodiyoweqgowa 
said,  "  I  want  you  to  remember  us,  so  you  must  come  and  see  us  when 
you  are  on  your  travels." 

[The  foregoing  incident  took  place  on  the  Canadian  side  of  the 
Niagara  Kiver,  near  the  mouth. — The  Relator.] 

96.  S'hagodiyoweqgowa 

A  few  years  ago  (previous  to  1884)  two  j'oung  men  started  for  a 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa  dance.  They  had  their  wooden  masks  or  "  false 
faces  "  with  them  in  a  bundle.  On  the  way  they  stopped  at  a  white 
woman's  house.  The  woman  asked,  "  What  have  you  in  your  bun- 
dle? "  "Our  masks,  or  false  faces,"  they  answei'ed;  "we  are  going 
to  a  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  dance."  "  If  you  will  put  on  the  masks  and 
let  me  see  them,  I  will  give  you  two  quarts  of  cider,"  said  the  woman. 
Going  outdoors,  they  put  on  the  masks,  and  came  into  the  house 
again.  The  woman's  child,  a  boy  of  six  or  seven,  became  so  fright- 
ened that  he  acted  as  if  he  had  lost  his  mind;  he  could  not  talk.  The 
mother  sent  to  Perrysburg  (N.  Y.)  for  a  doctor.  He  came,  but  he 
could  not  help  the  boy.  The  mother  then  went  to  an  Indian  shaman 
for  advice,  who  said  to  her  that  she  must  get  the  maskers,  or  false 
faces,  to  cure  him.  They  came  at  her  request  and  danced,  and  they 
rubbed  the  boy  with  ashes,  also  blowing  some  in  his  face;  soon  he 
was  well.  According  to  custom,  the  woman  had  ready  a  pot  of 
pounded  parched  corn,  boiled  with  pork  and  seasoned  with  maple 
sugar,  for  the  false  faces,  or  maskers. 

97.  The  Vasipire  Skeleton 

A  man  with  his  wife,  starting  from  a  Seneca  village,  went  from  it 
two  days'  journey  to  hunt.  Having  built  a  lodge,  the  man  began 
hunting.  When  he  had  obtained  a  sufficient  store  of  meat,  they 
started  for  home.  They  packed  all  the  meat  they  could  carry  and 
left  the  rest  at  the  lodge.  Setting  out  in  the  morning,  after  traveling 
all  day  they  came  to  a  cabin  in  which  they  found  all  the  people  dead. 
The  last  person  to  die  was  the  owner  of  the  lodge.  The  people  of 
the  village  had  put  the  body  on  a  shelf  in  a  bark  box  which  they  had 
made.  When  the  man  and  his  wife  came  it  was  already  dark.  The 
husband  thought  it  better  to  spend  the  night  there  than  to  continue 
the  journey.  He  gathered  a  quantity  of  wood  with  which  he  made  a 
fire.  The  woman  began  to  cook,  broiling  meat  and  making  a  cake  of 
pounded  corn,  which  she  placed  under  the  hot  ashes  to  bake.  The 
man  lay  down  to  rest  a  while  and-  fell  asleep.     While  cooking  the 


CTRT 
EE 


l^^fi]  TALES  459 


woman  heard  a  noise  behind  lier,  near  the  place  where  her  hiishaiid 
lay;  it  sounded  like  the  noise  maile  in  the  chewiiifr  of  flesh.  Slie 
began  to  think  almnt  the  c(ir|)se  on  the  shelf  and  remeiiil>ei'e(I  that  the 
dead  man  was  a  wizard.  Piittin<i  on  more  wood  and  makinsr  tlie  fire 
blaze  up,  .she  looked  toward  the  l)iink,  where  she  saw  a  stream  of 
blood  trieklins  out.  From  this  she  knew  at  duee  that  her  husband 
had  been  killed  by  the  dead  man. 

The  bread  under  the  ashes  was  baked.  She  then  spoke,  saying. 
"I  nuist  nudve  a  torch  and  bring  some  water."  Thereupon  she  pre- 
pai'ed  a  torch  of  hickory  bark  taken  fi'om  the  lodge,  making  it  long 
enough  to  last  until  she  could  run  home.  Taking  the  pail,  she  stole 
out,  but  once  outside  of  the  door  she  ([uickly  dropped  the  pail,  and 
ran  through  the  woods  with  all  her  might.  She  had  gotten  more 
than  halfway  Imme  when  tlie  deatl  man.  the  \  ampire,  found  that 
she  was  gone.  At  once  he  rushed  out,  whooping,  and  ran  after  her. 
She  heard  him.  and  knew  that  he  was  following  her.  'J"he  sound  of 
the  whooping  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  for  a  while,  unnerved 
completely  by  fear,  she  could  si-aiicly  move,  but  at  last,  having  re- 
gained her  strength,  she  ran  on.  .\gain  the  vampire  whooped,  and 
the  woman  fell  down  frcmi  IVar  and  exhaustion;  but  she  arose  again 
and  ran  on,  until  finally  she  came  within  sight  of  a  place  near  her 
own  village  where  there  was  a  dance.  The  pursuing  man-eating 
skeleton  was  gaining  on  her,  and  her  torch  was  almost  gone;  but, 
running  ahead,  she  fell  into  the  lodge  in  which  th';  dancing  was  in 
progress,  and  then  fainted.  "When  she  came  to  her  senses,  she  told 
what  luul  occurred  to  her  and  her  husband. 

In  the  morning  a  body  of  men  went  over  to  th(>  cabin,  in  which  they 
found  the  bones  of  her  husband,  from  which  all  the  flesh  had  Ihh'u 
eaten.  'J'aking  down  the  bark  box.  they  looked  at  the  skeleton  of  the 
dead  man  and  found  his  face  and  hands  bloody.  The  chief  said  it 
W'as  not  right  to  leave  dead  people  in  that  way;  therefore  they  dug 
a  hole,  in  which  they  buried  the  man-eating  skeleton,  and  took  the 
bones  of  the  other  man  home.  The  chief  had  him  buried  and  or- 
dered that  thereafter  all  dead  people  should  be  buried  in  the 
ground.  At  fii'st  the  dead  were  put  on  scaffolds,  but  the  ])eo])le  used 
to  see  sights  which  frightened  them,  for  the  dead  would  rise  and 
run  after  the  living.  Then  it  was  resolved  to  build  bark  lodges  for 
the  dead  and  to  put  them  on  shelves  therein.  This  plan  did  not  work 
well,  as  the  foregoing  story  shows.  Ai)out  one  hundred  years  ago, 
says  the  relator,  the  present  system  of  earth  burial  was  begun.  Be- 
fore the  burial  system  was  adopted  they  used  to  put  the  corjise  on 
the  ground,  into  a  chamber  like  a  room  dug  into  a  hillside.  If  the 
deceased  was  mairicd.  the  husband  or  wife  had  to  watch  with  the 
corpse  in  this  place,  and  every  ten  days  fm-  a  year  friends  brought 
food  to  the  watcher.     If  the  watcher  lived  thiough  the  3'ear,  he  or 


460  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

«he  was  then  brought  out  and  l)Ccamo  free  to  marry  again.  The 
watcher  often  died  in  the  excavation,  however,  for  it  was  dark  and 
foul. 

Once  a  man  left  with  the  body  of  his  wife  heard,  after  a  time,  an 
occasional  noise  of  craunching  and  eating.  The  next  time  his  friends 
came  with  food  he  told  them  of  this.  Thereupon  they  held  a  council, 
and  the  chief  sent  several  men  into  the  excavation  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  noise.  They  found  that  the  bodies  had  been  eaten,  and 
that  a  deep  hole  led  down  into  the  ground,  which  must  have  beeii 
made  by  a  great  serpent.  After  that  the  Seneca  ceased  to  bury  in 
this  way  and  put  their  dead  into  the  ground  as  they  do  at  present. 

When  it  was  the  custom  to  place  bodies  in  the  bark  Imlges  the  hus- 
band or  wife  had  to  remain  in  the  lodge  and  look  after  the  dead  for  a 
j-ear.  At  the  end  of  this  period  the  bones  were  taken  out  and  fastened 
to  a  post  in  an  erect  position,  and  a  great  dance  was  held  around 
them. 

MYTHS 
08.  A  Tale  of  the  Sky  World 

A  long  time  ago  human  beings  lived  high  up  in  what  is  now  called 
heaven.    They  had  a  great  and  illustrious  chief. 

It  so  happened  that  this  chief's  daughter  was  taken  very  ill  with  a 
strange  atfection.  All  the  people  were  verj-  anxious  as  to  the  outcome 
of  her  illness.  Every  laiown  remedy  was  tried  in  an  attempt  to  cure 
her,  but  none  had  any  effect. 

Near  the  lodge  of  this  chief  stood  a  great  tree,  which  every  year 
bore  corn  used  for  food.  One  of  the  friends  of  the  chief  had  a  dream, 
in  which  he  was  advi.sed  to  tell  the  chief  that  in  order  to  cure  his 
daughter  he  must  lay  her  beside  this  tree,  and  that  he  must  have  the 
tree  dug  up.  This  advice  was  carried  out  to  the  letter.  AVhile  the 
people  were  at  work  and  the  yoimg  woman  lay  there,  a  young  man 
came  along.  He  was  very  angry  and  said:  "  It  is  not  at  all  right  to 
destroy  this  tree.  Its  fruit  is  all  that  we  have  to  live  on."  With  this 
remark  he  gave  the  young  woman  who  lay  there  ill  a  shove  with  his 
foot,  causing  her  to  fall  into  the  hole  that  had  been  dug. 

Now,  that  hole  opened  into  this  world,  which  was  then  all  water, 
on  which  floated  waterfowl  of  many  kinds.  There  was  no  land  at 
that  time.  It  came  to  pass  that  as  these  waterfowl  saw  this  3"oung 
woman  falling  they  shouted,  "  Let  us  receive  her,"  whereupon  they, 
at  least  some  of  them,  joined  their  bodies  together,  and  the  young 
woman  fell  on  this  platform  of  bodies.  When  these  were  wearied 
they  asked,  "Who  will  volunteer  to  care  for  this  woman?"  The 
great  Turtle  then  took  her.  and  when  he  got  tired  of  holding  her,  he 
in  turn  asked  who  would  take  his  place.    At  last  the  question  arose  as 


^-^  MYTHS  461 

to  wliat  tliov  slionld  do  to  jirovido  W'v  witli  a  pernianpnt  rppdiiir  plarc 
in  tliis  world.  Finally  it  was  decided  to  ])repaie  the  earth,  on  which 
.she  would  li\e  in  the  future.  To  do  tlii.s  it  wa.<  determined  that  soil 
from  the  hottoui  of  the  primal  sea  should  he  lirouaiit  up  and  placed 
on  the  lii'oad.  firm  I'arapace  of  the  Turtle,  where  it  would  increase  in 
size  to  such  an  extent  that  it  would  acconunodate  all  the  ci'eatui-es 
that  should  he  pi-oduced  thereafter.  After  much  di.scus.sion  tlu'  toad 
was  linally  |)ersuaded  to  di\e  to  the  bottom  of  the  waters  in  search  of 
soil.  I5ra\el_v  niakiiii;  the  atteui|)t.  he  succeeded  in  hrinj^int!;  up  soil 
from  the  dei)ths  of  the  sea.  This  was  carefully  sjjread  over  the  cara- 
pace of  the  Turtle,  and  at  once  both  l)e<ran  to  <rrow  in  size  aiul  depth. 

Aftei'  the  younsr  woman  recovered  fi-om  the  illness  from  which  she 
sutl'ered  when  she  was  cast  down  from  the  U]i])er  world,  she  built  her- 
self a  shelter,  in  which  she  lived  (piite  contentedly.  In  the  course  of 
time  she  brought  forth  a  <rirl  baby,  who  grew  i-ajiidly  in  size  and 
intelliirence. 

A\'hen  the  datighter  had  irrown  to  youn^  womanhood,  the  muther 
and  she  were  accustomed  to  iro  out  to  diir  wild  ]iotatoes.  Her  muther 
had  said  to  her  that  in  doing  this  she  must  face  the  west  at  all  times. 
Before  long  the  young  daughter  gave  signs  that  she  was  about  to 
become  a  mother.  Her  nicther  rejiroved  her,  saying  that  she  had 
violated  the  injunction  not  to  face  the  east,  as  her  condition  showed 
that  she  had  faced  the  wrong  way  while  digging  potatoes.  It  is 
said  that  the  breath  of  the  West  Wind  had  entered  her  person,  caus- 
ing conception.^"  AMien  the  days  of  her  delivery  were  at  hand,  she 
overheard  twins  within  her  body  in  a  hot  debate  as  to  wliich  should 
be  born  fii'st  and  as  to  tlii'  pid|)er  place  of  exit,  one  ileclaring  that  he 
was  going  to  emerge  through  the  aianpit  of  his  mother,  the  other 
saying  that  he  would  emerge  in  the  natural  way.  The  first  one  boi-n. 
who  was  of  a  reddish  color,  was  called  Othagwenda:  that  is.  Flint. 
The  other,  who  was  light  in  color,  was  called  Djuskaha;  that  is.  the 
Little  Sprout. 

The  grandmother  of  the  twins  liked  Djuskaha  and  hated  the  other: 
so  they  cast  Othagwenda  into  a  hollow  tree  some  di.-^tance  from  the 
Io<lge. 

The  boy  that  remained  in  the  lodge  grew  \ery  rai)idly,  and  soon 
was  able  to  make  himself  bows  and  arrows  and  to  go  out  to  hunt  in 
the  vicinity.  Finally,  for  sevei-al  days  he  retuzned  home  without  his 
bow  and  arrows.  At  last  he  was  asked  why  he  had  to  ha\e  a  new 
bow  and  arrows  e\erv  moi-ning.  He  replied  that  there  was  a  young 
boy  in  a  hollow  tree  in  the  neighborhood  who  used  them.  The  grand- 
mother iiHjuired  whei'e  the  tree  stood,  and  he  told  her:  wheicupon 
then  they  went  tliere  and  brought  the  other  boy  home  again. 

When  the  boys  had  grown  to  man's  estate,  they  decided  that  it 
was  necessary  for  them  to  inci-ease  the  size  of  their  island,  so  thev 


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

agreed  to  start  out  together,  afterward  separating  to  create  forests 
and  lakes  and  other  things.  They  parted  as  agreed,  Othagwenda 
going  westward  and  Djuskaha  eastward.  In  the  course  of  time,  on 
returning,  they  met  in  their  shelter  or  lodge  at  night,  then  agreeing 
to  go  the  next  day  to  see  what  each  had  made.  First  they  went  west 
to  see  what  Othagwenchi  had  made.  It  was  found  that  he  had  made 
the  country  all  rocks  and  full  of  ledges,  and  also  a  mosquito  which 
was  very  large.  Djuskaha  asked  the  mosquito  to  run,  in  order  that 
he  might  see  whether  the  insect  could  fight.  The  mosquito  ran,  and 
sticking  his  bill  through  a  sapling,  thereby  made  it  fall,  at  which 
Djuskaha  said,  "That  will  not  be  right,  for  you  would  kill  the  peo- 
ple who  are  about  to  come."  So,  seizing  him,  he  rubbed  him  down  in 
his  hands,  causing  him  to  become  very  small ;  then  he  blew  on  the 
mosquito,  whereupon  he  flew  away.  He  also  modified  some  of  the 
other  animals  which  his  brother  had  made.  After  returning  to  their 
lodge,  they  agreed  to  go  the  next  day  to  see  what  Djuskaha  had 
fashioned.  On  visiting  the  east  the  next  day,  they  found  that  Djus- 
kaha had  made  a  large  number  of  animals  which  were  so  fat  that 
they  could  hardly  move;  that  he  had  made  the  sugar-maple  trees 
to  drop  syrup;  that  he  had  made  the  sycamore  tree  to  bear  fine  fruit; 
that  the  rivers  were  so  formed  that  half  the  water  flowed  upstream 
and  the  other  half  downstream.  Then  the  reddish-colored  brother, 
Othagwenda,  was  greatly  displeased  with  what  his  brother  had  made, 
saying  that  the  people  who  were  about  to  come  would  live  too  easily 
and  be  too  happy.  So  he  shook  violently  the  various  animals — the 
bears,  deer,  .and  turkeys — causing  them  to  become  small  at  once,  a 
characteristic  which  attached  itself  to  their  descendants.  He  also 
caused  the  sugar  maple  to  drop  sweetened  water  only,  and  the  fruit 
of  the  sycamore  to  become  small  and  useless;  and  lastly  he  caused 
the  water  of  the  rivers  to  flow  in  only  one  direction,  because  the 
original  plan  would  make  it  too  easy  for  the  human  beings  who  were 
about  to  come  to  navigate  the  streams. 

The  inspection  of  each  other's  work  resulted  in  a  deadly  disagree- 
ment between  the  brothers,  who  finally  came  to  grips  and  blows,  and 
Othagwenda  was  killed  in  the  fierce  struggle. 

99.  S'hagoditoweqgowa  and  Hot'hoh  ^"' 

There  were  a  mother  and  two  daughters  living  in  a  clearing. 
AMien  the  daughters  became  women  the  mother  said:  "You  must 
now  get  married.  Make  twenty  loaves  of  green-corn  bread,  tied 
up  in  husks  in  the  usual  manner.''  The  girls  made  the  bread,  and 
the  next  morning  the  mother  said  to  the  elder  daughter :  "  Fill  a 
basket  with  the  bread  and  go  to  the  lodge  of  a  man  who  lives  not 
far  from  here.     It  is  a  double  lodge.     Go  in  at  the  first  door  and 


'„KW,'?;]  MYTHS  463 

say  to  the  man  who  is  there:  "I  have  brouf^ht  you  bread.  I  am 
goiiii^  to  marry  you."  To  the  younger  thuighter  she  said:  "do  in  at 
the  baclv  door  and  say  to  the  man  who  is  there,  'Here  is  marriage 
bread.  1  have  come  to  marry  y<ni.'  The  two  brothers  will  take 
your  bread  and  will  tell  you  to  staj'.  The  path  branches  to  one  side 
before  you  reach  the  place,  but  keep  on  the  straight  path,  which 
leads  from  here."' 

The  girls  started,  and  wjicn  they  came  to  the  fork  they  ]<cpt  on 
the  straight  path,  and  alter  a  long  time  they  came  to  a  lodge. 
Looking  through  the  cravks,  they  saw  a  inimber  of  False  Faces 
dancing,  whereupon,  becoming  frightened,  they  ran  away.  The 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa  followed  them,  and  when  they  weie  getting  near 
one  of  the  girls,  she  threw  down  her  basket  of  bread.  The  S'ha- 
godiyoweqgowa ate  the  bread  aiul  then  he  ran  on.  The  second  sister 
threw  down  her  basket,  and  then  piece  by  piece  they  cast  oil  their 
clothes.  The  S'hagodiyowe(|gowa  in  pursuit  would  stop  and  examine 
every  i)iece.  By  this  delay  the  girls  kept  a  little  ahead  and  finally 
reached  their  mother's  lodge,  but  they  were  naked.  The  mother 
said  :  "  You  did  not  do  as  I  told  you.  You  must  try  again."  Having 
made  bread  again,  the  next  morning  they  started  the  second  time. 
This  time  they  reached  the  right  lodge.  The  elder  sister,  setting 
the  basket  of  bread  before  the  man,  said:  "I  have  come  to  marry- 
you."  After  eating  the  liread.  he  thaidced  her.  The  younger  sister 
went  in  at  the  other  doiu-.  and  placing  the  basket  of  bread  before 
the  man.  said:  "  Eat;  I  have  come  to  marry  you."'  lie  thanked  her 
and  ate  the  bread,  and  so  they  were  married. 

There  was  a  partition  in  the  lodge,  and  in  the  morning  when  the 
iirothers  got  up  the  elder  brother  ;dways  cried  out.  "  I  am  up."  The 
younger  brother  would  answer,  "So  am  I."  "We  are  eating  lireak- 
fast,"  would  be  the  elder  brother's  response.  "  So  are  we,"  was  the 
younger  brother's  answer.  "  I  am  going  hunting,"  would  be  the  next 
sally.     "  So  am  I,"  would  be  the  reply. 

Before  starting  off  to  hunt  each  bi'other  said  to  his  wife,  ''"\'ou 
must  stay  in  the  lodge  for  ten  days.  If  you  do  not,  our  brother 
S'hagodiyowecigowa  may  carry  you  away."  For  nine  days  the  sisters 
remained  indoors;  then  the  younger  said:  "It  is  bright  and  pleas- 
ant. Let  us  sit  outside  a  few  minutes."  Tlie  elder  consenting,  they 
-sat  down  outdoors  near  the  lodge.  They  had  not  been  there  long 
when  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  came.  The  sisters  did  not  see  him  in  his 
real  character,  and  when  he  asked  them  to  go  and  eat  with  him,  they 
readily  went.  When  the  two  brothers  returned  they  missed  their 
wives,  and  they  knew  that  their  brother  had  captured  them.  The 
elder  of  the  two,  going  to  S'hagodiyoweqgowa,  said,  "  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  to  give  back  our  wivee.  You  can  keep  watch  over  them,  but 
let  them  live  with  us."    At  last  S'hagodij'oweqgowa  gave  them  up. 


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

Now  Hot'hoh  (Cold  Weather)  was  a  brother  of  these  men  who  lived 
not  far  away.  He  always  went  naked.  His  only  weapon  was  a  toma- 
hawk, which  he  carried  in  a  hole  or  slit  in  the  skin  of  his  hip.  It  is 
he  who  makes  the  trees  crack  with  such  loud  noises  in  winter,  for  he 
is  striking  them  with  his  mallet  or  tomahawk.  The  two  men  now 
went  to  Hot'hoh,  whom  they  asked  to  protect  their  wives  from  S'ha- 
godiyoweiigowa.  Some  time  after  this  they  went  hunting  again.  On 
this  occasion  S'hagodiyoweqgowa,  coming  to  the  lodge,  said  to  the 
sisters,  "  Come  and  eat  with  me.  I  live  near  here.  You  can  eat  and 
return  in  a  little  while.  Not  recognizing  him,  they  went.  He  took 
them  to  his  lodge  in  the  woods,  where  he  shut  them  up.  The  young- 
est sister  escaped  and  had  gone  some  distance  before  S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa found  it  out.  Then  he  followed,  screaming  as  he  ran.  She 
was  terribly  frightened  and  ran  directly  to  Hot'hoh.  He  told  her  to 
go  home,  and  that  he  would  meet  S'hagodiyoweqgowa.  They  met, 
and  then  began  a  terrific  battle.  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  fought  with 
his  rattle  and  Hot'hoh  with  his  mallet.  They  uprooted  the  trees  for 
miles  as  they  went  toward  the  east.  At  last  S'hagodiyoweqgowa  was 
conquered  and  promised  never  to  trouble  his  brothers'  wives  again. 

100.  The  Morning  Star  and  the  Cannibal  Wife 

Once  far  off  in  the  woods  there  lived  by  themselves  a  husband  and 
■wife.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  husband  to  hunt,  while  the  woman 
devoted  her  time  to  raising  corn  and  beans. 

One  day,  while  the  wife  was  baking  a  cake  in  the  ashes,  a  large 
spark  from  the  fire  fell  on  her  hand  as  she  sat  in  front  of  the  hearth. 
The  pain  caused  her  to  rub  the  spot  with  her  finger.  Soon  it  began 
to  blister,  whereupon  she  wet  her  finger  in  her  mouth  and  rubbed  the 
burned  spot ;  in  this  way  she  got  a  taste  of  her  own  blood,  and  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  she  took  a  liking  for  it  and  craved  more  of  it.  So 
with  a  knife  she  cut  out  pieces  of  the  burned  flesh,  which  she  ate 
ravenously.  The  taste  for  the  flesh  grew  on  her  so  that  she  put  a 
coal  of  fire  on  another  spot  on  her  hand,  where  it  burned  more  liesh ; 
thus  she  continued  to  cut  out  pieces  of  her  own  flesh  and  ent  them. 
She  persisted  in  this  unnatural  practice  until  she  had  eaten  all  the 
flesh  from  her  legs  and  arms. 

The  husband  had  a  dog,  which  was  very  wise  and  faithful  to  him. 
Now  this  dog  eagerly  watched  what  the  woman  was  doing.  When 
about  half  through  eating  the  flesh  off  of  her  limbs,  the  unnatural 
wife,  turning  to  the  dog,  said:  "You  would  better  go  and  tell  your 
fi-iend  and  master  to  escape  from  this  place  at  once.  You  must  go 
with  him,  for  if  you  do  not  hurry  away  I  shall  eat  you  both."  Obey- 
ing this  warning,  the  dog  started  and,  running  as  fast  as  he  could  into 
the  forest  until  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  husband  was  hunting, 


CCKT 
HE 


■;^,'?y  MYTHS  465 

he  told  him  at  once  that  his  wilV  had  lipcome  an  On<r\ve  las  (can- 
nibal), and  that  she  would  eat  them  both  if  they  did  not  flee  imme- 
diately. The  man  and  the  dog  started  without  delay  on  a  keen  run. 
.\ftei-  a  while  the  man.  knowinc:  that  the  doc's  legs  were  shoit  and 
not  strong,  decided  to  put  him  into  a  hollow  tree.  The  dog  consented 
to  this  in  order  to  save  the  man.  as  he  knew  what  was  in  store  for 
both.  .So  the  hunter  placed  the  dog  in  a  hollow  tree,  at  the  same  time 
l>iddiiig  him  to  become  punk.  The  buntei-  went  on  as  fast  as  he  could 
nm,  continuing  until  he  came  to  a  liver  with  h!gh  banks,  where  an 
old  man  lived.  He  said  to  the  old  man :  "  (ii'and  father,  1  am  in  great 
trouble.  Take  me  aci'oss  the  river  to  save  me  from  peril  of  my  life. 
My  wife,  who  has  become  a  cannibal,  is  pursuing  me  in  order  to  de- 
vour me."  The  old  man  said  in  reply:  "Oh!  I  know  what  you  are 
telling  me.  but  she  is  still  a  long  way  behind  you.  She  will  not  lie 
here  for  some  time  to  come.  But  you  must  biing  uie  a  basketful  of 
fish  from  my  fishpond."  The  hunter  at  on<'e  went  to  the  pond,  which 
was  enclosed,  where  he  found  a  wickerwork  dip  net,  with  which  he 
soon  filled  the  basket  with  fish.  As  soon  as  the  basket  was  full  he 
hastened  Inick  with  it  to  the  old  man,  who  soon  said,  "  Sit  down  and 
cat  with  me."'  So  they  ate  together  the  fish,  which  had  been  [5re])ared 
and  cooked  i>y  the  old  man  in  such  manner  as  to  give  the  fugitive 
hunter  moi-o  orenda  (magic  pow(>r)  to  i-esist  the  hostile  influence  of 
that  of  his  wife.  Wlien  they  had  finished  eating  the  fish,  the  old 
man  said.  "I  now  want  you  to  bi-ing  me  a  basketful  of  groundnuts." 
The  hunter  went  at  once  to  the  garden  of  the  old  man.  and  digging 
up  the  gioundnuts  as  ciuickly  as  possible,  brought  them  to  liim.  .Vfter 
these  wore  prepared  and  cooked  they  sat  down  and  ate  them.  Then 
the  old  man  said.  "I  will  now  take  you  across  the  river."  doing  to 
the  river  bank,  the  old  man  lay  face  downward,  resting  on  his  elbows 
at  the  edge  of  the  watei-.  aiul  stretching  out  liis  neck  to  the  farther 
i)ank.  He  said  to  the  hunter,  "  Now  you  may  walk  over  on  my  neck, 
but  you  must  be  very  cai'eful,  for  I  am  not  as  strong  as  I  have  been  in 
the  past."  The  hunter  walked  over  on  the  old  man's  neck  with  great 
care.  When  he  had  reached  the  other  bank,  the  old  man  bach'  him 
good-by  with  the  remark,  "  Far  away  in  tlie  west  you  will  see  a  large 
lodge,  which  belongs  to  thi-ee  aunts  of  yours,  who  will  help  you  fur- 
ther: so  call  on  them  for  aid."  On  hearing  this,  the  hunter  hui-ried 
away. 

.Vfter  the  woman  had  sent  the  dog  aw-ay  she  ate  all  the  flesh  from 
her  bones;  then  with  small  sticks  she  pushed  all  the  marrow  out  of 
her  bones  and  devoured  that,  too.  Finally  she  filled  the  hollows  in  her 
bones  with  small  pebbles,  which  rattled  as  she  moved  around.  From 
time  to  time  she  sang  and  danced,  causing  the  pebf)les  in  her  liones 
to  rattle:  whereupon  she  would  e.xclaim:  "Oh,  that  sounds  fine!" 
94015°— 16 30 


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

Having  become  ravenous,  she  fell  to  devouring  everything  in  the 
lodge — meat,  bread,  corn,  beans,  skins;  in  fact,  everything  that  could 
be  eaten.  When  she  had  eaten  everything  in  the  lodge,  she  started 
in  pursuit  of  her  husband.  She  soon  discovered  his  tracks  and  fol- 
lowed them.  Once  in  a  while  on  the  way  she  would  stop  and  dance, 
listening  with  delight  to  the  rattle  of  the  small  pebbles  in  her  bones. 
Afterward  she  would  take  up  the  trail  again. 

Shortly  after  the  hunter  had  fled  from  the  lodge  of  the  old  man  his 
wife  came  running  along.  Coming  up  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  she 
screamed :  "  Old  man,  take  me  across  this  river.  I  am  pursuing  my 
husband  to  seize  him  and  eat  him.  Come !  Be  quick !  "  The  old 
ferryman,  not  being  accustomed  to  hear  words  like  these,  slowly- 
turned  toward  the  woman,  saying :  "  I  can  not  take  you  across.  There 
is  no  walk  for  you,  who  are  chasing  your  husband  to  eat  him."  But 
the  woman  begged  and  begged  him  to  comply  with  her  request.  At 
last  the  old  man  replied :  "  It  is  well.  Go  bring  me  a  basketful  of 
fish  and  also  dig  me  a  basketful  of  groundnuts."  Going  out,  the 
woman  caught  a  basketful  of  fish  in  the  old  man's  pond;  then  from 
his  garden  she  dug  a  basketful  of  groundiuits  and  brought  them  to 
the  old  man.  When  he  had  prepared  and  cooked  them,  she  would 
not  eat  them,  for  she  now  craved  nothing  but  human  flesh.  After 
eating  bj^  himself,  the  old  man  went  to  the  bank  of  the  river  and, 
getting  into  position,  stretched  his  neck  across  the  water  like  a  turtle, 
making  a  very  narrow,  high,  arching  span.  Then  he  told  her  to  walk 
across.  But  the  woman  became  angry  and  said:  "'How  do  you  sup- 
pose I  am  going  to  cross  on  that  kind  of  walk  ?  "  The  old  man 
replied :  "  Oh  I  you  can  do  just  as  you  like  about  it.  I  am  old  now 
and  can  not  make  mj'  neck  flat.  If  I  did,  it  would  break  down.  As 
it  is,  you  must  walk  very  carefully."  No  matter  how  the  woman 
raged  she  had  to  go  on  that  narrow  path :  so  she  picked  her  steps 
carefully,  scolding  as  she  went  along.  The  river,  which  was  very 
angry  and  deep,  was  full  of  terrible  creatures.  When  the  woman 
reached  the  middle  of  the  river,  she  made  the  old  man  so  angry  by 
her  scolding  that  he  suddenly  jerked  his  neck,  making  her  fall  into 
the  water ;  whereupon  she  was  devoured  instantly,  with  the  exception 
of  her  stomach,  in  which  was  her  life,  which  floated  downstream,  pass- 
ing the  lodge  of  the  three  aunts  of  the  hunter,  her  husband.  Seeing 
it  on  the  surface,  the  three  aunts,  having  caught  it,  chopped  it  up  fine, 
thus  killing  the  woman. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  husband  came  to  the  lodge  of  his  three  aunts, 
who  told  him  to  keep  on  his  way  and  that  they  would  watcii  and  do 
what  they  could  to  aid  him.  So  he  kept  on  until  he  came  to  a  wood, 
in  which  he  saw  a  young  woman  gathering  sticks  for  fuel.  She 
asked  him:  "Where  are  you  going?  "  He  replied:  "I  am  going  on 
until  I  find  pleasant  people  to  live  with."    The  young  woman  an- 


CURTI 
HSWIT' 


r^J  MYTHS  467 


swered  :  "  You  would  better  remain  here  with  me  as  my  husband.  We 
can  live  very  luippily  if  you  can  nuuiage  my  grandmother,  who  is  a 
little  old  woman,  but  very  troublesome."  As  the  young  wonum  was 
pleasant  and  good-looking,  the  hunter  decided  to  remain  witli  her. 
When  they  ari-ived  at  the  lodge  of  the  young  woman  the  little  old 
woman,  her  grandmother,  was  outside.  She  was  about  one-half  the 
height  of  an  ordinai-y  person,  but  very  stout.  She  exclaimed  :  "Oh! 
you  have  brought  a  husband,  have  you?"  Continuing,  she  added: 
"  You  would  better  bring  him  into  the  lodge  to  let  him  rest.  You 
should  also  give  him  something  to  eat."  The  young  woman  replied: 
"It  is  well;  you  ask  him  to  come  into  the  lodge."  So  the  grand- 
mother told  them  to  enter  the  lodge;  following  her  inside,  tiiey 
sat  down.  Thereupon  the  grandmother,  getting  a  club  from  the 
farther  end  of  the  room,  began  beating  her  granddaughter,  sa3'ing: 
"  Oh !  you  like  too  well  to  have  a  iiusband."  She  struck  her  many 
blows,  which  the  granddaughter  endured  without  making  any  de- 
fense. When  bedtime  came  the  old  woman  said  to  her  grand- 
daughter: "Your  husband  must  sleep  with  me  tonight."  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  to  comply  with  her  demand.  So  the  husband 
went  to  the  old  woman's  bed.  'i'lic  latter  covered  herself  and  the 
man  with  a  skin,  fastening  it  down  on  all  sides  in  such  manner  that 
it  was  air-tight,  so  the  man  could  scarcely  breathe.  Then  the  old 
woman  made  an  attempt  to  smother  the  hu.sband;  she  would  have 
done  so  had  he  not  had  a  small  false  face  [fetish]  hidden  away  in 
his  bosum.  At  once  he  told  this  aid  to  absorb  all  the  odor  into  itself, 
and  thereupon  it  did  so.  When  morning  came,  contrary  to  the  cx- 
l^ectation  of  the  grandmother,  the  husband  was  alive  and  well.  The 
old  woman  now  for  a  time  left  him  in  peace,  and  he  enjoyed  the 
company  of  his  wife. 

Several  days  later  the  old  woman  said  to  the  man :  "  We  must 
go  to  an  island  today  to  hunt."  They  found  that  the  island  was 
low  and  that  in  the  middle  of  it  there  was  a  very  deep  lake.  Having 
made  a  landing,  they  drew  their  canoe  up  on  the  island.  The  old 
woman  said  to  the  man:  "Take  your  position  here  on  the  i-ight," 
indicating  with  her  finger  a  spot  away  from  the  canoe,  "  and  I  will 
drive  the  game  towai'd  you."  The  man  had  gone  about  halfway 
toward  the  place  when,  hearing  a  sound  in  tlie  direction  of  tiie  canoe, 
he  turned  back,  only  to  see  the  old  woman  in  the  canoe  paddling 
away  as  fast  as  she  could.  Tie  called  to  her  to  return,  but  it  was  of 
no  tise. 

The  man  remained  on  the  island  all  day  long;  there  was  no  escape 
for  him.  He  noticed  the  marks  of  water  high  up  on  the  trees,  which, 
were  very  tall.  He  knew  well  what  these  marks  meant.  When  night 
came  the  water  began  to  rise,  and  thereupon  the  iiunter  climbed  the 
highest  tree  he  could  find  on  the  island.    The  water  kept  rising,  and 


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

he  continued  to  climb  as  it  rose.  With  the  first  streak  of  dawn  in  the 
east  the  hunter  saw  that  all  the  shorter  trees  were  covered  with  water, 
while  around  him  on  all  sides  were  great  numbers  of  monsters  wait- 
ing to  devour  him.  He  sat  at  the  top  of  the  tallest  tree  on  the  island. 
While  looking  around  for  some  avenue  of  escape  he  saw  the  Morning 
Star  shining  brightly  in  the  east.  Remembering  that  the  Morning 
Star  had  promised  him  in  a  dream  in  the  days  of  his  -youth  to  helt) 
him  in  the  time  of  trouble  or  peril,  he  prayed  that  the  Morning  Star 
would  hasten  the  coming  of  the  day,  for  he  believed  that  with  the 
advent  of  daylight  the  waters  would  subside  and  he  would  be  saved. 
He  cried  in  the  anguish  of  his  mind  :  "  Oh.  Morning  Star  !  hasten  the 
Orb  of  Day.  Oh.  Morning  Star !  hurry  on  the  daylight.  You  prom- 
ised when  I  was  young  that  you  would  help  me  if  I  ever  should  be  in 
great  peril."  Now,  the  Moi'ning  Star  lived  in  a  beautiful  lodge,  with 
a  small  boy  as  a  servant.  Hearmg  the  voice  of  the  hunter  appealing 
to  him  for  aid,  he  called  out  to  the  servant,  "  Who  is  that  shouting  on 
the  island?  "  The  small  boy  replied.  "  Oh  !  that  is  the  husband  of  the 
little  old  woman's  granddaughter.  He  says  that  you  promised  hiia 
in  a  dream  when  he  was  young  that  you  would  help  in  the  time  of 
trouble."  The  Morning  Star  answered,  "  Oh,  yes  I  I  did  promise 
him  to  do  so.  Let  the  Orb  of  Day  come  at  once."  Immediately 
daylight  came,  and  the  water  on  the  island  subsided. 

When  the  waters  were  dried  from  the  land  the  hunter  slipped  down 
from  the  tree,  and  going  to  the  landing  place  he  l>uried  himself  in  the 
iand,  leaving  only  his  nostrils  and  one  eye  exposed.  Early  in  the 
forenoon  the  old  woman  came  again  to  the  island.  Drawing  up  the 
canoe  on  the  beach,  she  said  to  herself:  "The  flesh  of  my  grand- 
daughter's husband  has  been  eaten  up  by  this  time,  but  I  suppose  his 
bones  are  left.  Being  very  young,  they  must  have  good  marrow  in 
them,  so  I  think  I  will  have  some  of  this  marrow."  So  saying,  she 
started  to  search  the  island  for  the  bones.  The  man  was  watching 
her,  and  when  she  had  gone  far  enough  away  he  sprang  up  out  of 
the  sand,  and  boarding  the  canoe  pushed  off  and  paddled  away. 
Wlien  he  had  gone  some  distance  from  the  island  the  old  woman  saw 
him.  whereupon  she  cried  out  in  agony  of  despair,  "  Oh,  grandson, 
come  back !  I  will  never  play  another  trick  on  you.  I  will  love  you." 
The  hunter  replied  in  derision.  "  Oh,  no !  I  will  not  return.  You 
shall  play  no  more  tricks  on  me,"  and  continued  to  paddle  away. 

When  night  came  the  water  on  the  island  began  to  rise.  Then  the 
old  woman  climbed  the  tall  pine  tree  to  escape  the  monsters  waiting 
to  devour  her.  Between  midnight  and  sunrise  the  water,  still  rising, 
was  nearing  the  treetop  where  the  old  woman  was.  when  she  called 
out  to  the  Morning  Star,  "  You  promised  me  when  I  was  young 
that  you  would  help  me  when  I  should  be  in  distress."  The  Morn- 
ing Star  asked  the  boy,  "  Is  that  man  down  there  on  the  island  yet?" 


iZ^i^i]  MYTHS  465 

The  lad  replied,  "Oh.  no!  lie  jrot  oil  yesterday.  This  is  the  little 
old  woman  herself.  She  says  you  promised  her  in  a  dream  to  help 
her."  The  Morning  Star  replied,  "Oh,  no!  I  never  had  any  con- 
versation with  her.  I  never  made  any  promise  to  her."  With  these 
words  the  Morning  Star  fell  asleep  again  and  slept  on,  letting  the 
Orb  of  Day  come  at  its  own  time.  'Jhe  water  on  the  island  kept 
rising  and  rising  until  it  had  I'cached  the  toj)  of  the  pine  tree,  when 
the  inhabitants  of  the  lake  ate  up  the  little  old  woman. 

The  man  was  at  home  with  his  young  wife  and  they  lived  ever 
after  in   peace   and  happiness. 

101.  TiiF.  Woman  and  thi:  CAXNinAL'"''  Thunder 

One  day  a  stranger  came  to  a  lodge  in  which  a  nuin,  his  wife,  and 
foui'  children  li\ed.  and  asked  leave  to  marry  the  young  daughter  of 
the  family.     Both  father  and  mother  consenting,  he  maii-iod  her. 

The  man  remained  there  foi'  a  time,  and  then  he  wished  his  wife 
to  go  to  his  own  lodge.  The  old  people  w(>re  willing,  so  the  two 
started.  They  soon  reached  a  large  cabin.  whei-eu|)ou  the  young  man 
eaid.  "This  is  my  cabin."  AVhcn  they  arrived  thei-e  was  no  one  in  it, 
but  toward  night  the  woman  beard  some  person  approaching  on  the 
run.  Soon  afterward  a  man  entered  and  sat  down  by  the  door;  again 
she  heard  the  sound  of  someone  inuining,  and  another  man  entered 
and  sat  down;  then  a  third  i^ei'son  came.  They  began  talking  one 
with  anothtu',  i-elating  how  fai'  tbcv  bad  been.  One  of  them  said, 
"1  had  good  luck:  1  killed  a  iiear."  I""inding  that  he  was  the  only 
one  of  the  three  who  had  killed  anything,  they  said,  "  Go,  bring  it  in; 
we  will  cook  it."'  The  young  woman  sat  watching  at  the  end  of  the 
room.  The  man  brought  in  what  he  called  a  beai',  which  she  saw 
was  the  trunk  and  head  of  a  man.  Having  cut  it  up,  they  j)ut  it  into 
a  kettle  to  boil;  when  cooked,  they  ate  it.  The  thi-ee  walked  to  aiul 
fro  in  the  room  without  once  looking  toward  the  woman.  Her  hus- 
bantl  was  there,  but  he  did  not  talk,  nor  eat  with  the  men.  .Vlthough 
they  were  his  brothers,  he  never  ate  their  kind  of  food.  The  next 
morning,  and  on  succeeding  days,  after  making  the  usual  prepara- 
tions, the  three  went  hunting:  in  the  evening  they  returned,  and  sit- 
ting down  by  the  door,  talked  over  their  journey.  If  they  had  killed 
any  game  they  brought  it  into  the  lodge,  and  cooked  and  ate  it;  if 
they  had  killed  nothing,  they  ate  what  was  left  from  the  meal  of  the 
previous  evening. 

One  day  when  the  young  woman  went  to  draw  water  she  found  a 
inan  standing  by  the  spring.  He  addressed  these  words  to  her.  "  I 
came  to  tell  you  that  your  husband  is  going  into  the  grouiul  to- 
morrow. He  is  magically  a  very  powerful  aiul  evil  man.  As  soon 
as  he  is  gone,  you  must  put  your  moccasin  exactly  in  the  center  of 
your  lodge,  telling  it  to  answer  for  you  every  time  your  husband 


470  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  9j 

speaks.  When  you  have  done  that,  hurry  to  this  place."  The  next 
morning  the  husband  said,  "  I  am  going  into  the  ground.  I  want  you 
to  stay  in  the  lodge  all  the  time  I  am  away,"  and  turning  around 
where  he  stood,  he  disappeared  in  the  ground.  After  doing  as  she 
had  been  told  to  do  by  the  stranger,  the  wife  went  to  the  spring, 
where  she  found  the  man.  Putting  her  into  the  top  of  an  arrow,  and 
saying,  "  ^Vhen  the  arrow  falls,  get  out  and  hurry  along  the  lake  as 
fast  as  you  can,"  he  shot  it  into  the  air. 

Soon  the  husband  called  to  his  wife,  "Are  you  there?"  at  which 
the  moccasin  answered  in  her  voice,  "  Yes."  After  a  time  he  called 
again,  "Are  you  there?"  "  Yes,"  was  again  her  reply.  He  was  away 
several  days,  during  which  many  times  did  he  ask,  "Are  you  there?" 
always  receiving  the  same  answer.  When  he  appeared  above  the 
ground  and  asked,  "Where  are  you,  wife,  are  you  here?"  a  voice 
answered,  "  Yes."  Looking  around,  he  could  not  see  her;  then  sud- 
denly he  discovered  what  had  been  talking  to  him.  He  was  very 
angry  and  began  to  search  for  the  woman's  tracks.  He  followed 
them  to  the  spring,  where  they  disappeared.  After  looking  for  a 
long  time  he  became  discouraged,  and  calling  his  dog  Onhagwio,^*"  he 
said,  "  You  failed  to  watch  my  wife  while  I  was  gone.  Now  you 
must  find  her."  Then  he  watched  the  dog  as  it  ran  round  and  round, 
coming  back  to  the  spring;  finally  it  stopped  scenting  the  ground, 
and  looking  into  the  air,  it  sniffed.  All  at  once  the  dog  ran  off  north- 
ward, looking  up  all  the  time  as  if  it  saw  tracks  (but  trailing  a  faint 
scent  in  the  air).  The  man  followed.  After  a  while  they  came  to  the 
spot  where  the  arrow  fell.  There  were  tracks  on  the  ground.  The 
dog  barked  and  began  to  run  faster,  the  man  urging  it  on.  As  they 
neared  the  woman,  the  man  who  had  been  at  the  spring  stood  before 
her.  He  put  her  again  into  an  arrow,  saying,  "  You  will  come  down 
on  an  island  in  a  lake,  and  you  must  run  across  this  island  in  all 
directions."  When  the  husband  and  the  dog  came  to  the  place  where 
she  met  the  man  they  lost  her  track.  Again  the  dog  scented,  and 
finding  the  trail  in  the  air,  followed  it.  When  they  reached  the  lake, 
the  man  changed  himself  into  a  flea,  and  going  into  the  hair  behind 
the  dog's  ear,  held  on.  Then  the  dog  swam  to  the  island,  on  reachmg 
which  the  ilea  turned  to  a  man  again.  Coming  to  the  spot  where  the  ar- 
row fell,  they  found  her  tracks,  which  they  followed  across  and  around 
the  island.  As  they  neared  the  woman,  the  man  again  stood  by  her, 
and  putting  her  once  more  into  his  arrow,  said,  "  You  will  come  down 
on  the  shore  of  the  lake ;  then  run  as  fast  as  you  can.  I  can  help  you 
no  longer,  but  you  will  soon  reach  a  village,  where  j-ou  will  find 
some  one  to  help  j'ou.  You  may  see  now  who  I  am."  As  he  tiu-ned 
to  go  away,  she  saw  that  the  man  was  a  Djondjongwen.^*^ 

The  dog  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  tracks  disappeared  on  the 
ground;  here  he  found  the  woman  had  crossed  the  lake.    Again  the 


c 


i^E-J^S]  MYTHS  471 


man  tuiTiPfl  to  a  flea  and  the  dog  swam  witli  him  to  the  shore.  Hav- 
ing found  the  wotnan's  footprints,  they  foUowed  them.  As  they 
were  getting  very  near,  so  near  that  she  could  hear  the  dog  bark,  she 
came  to  a  lodge  in  which  a  man  was  sitting,  making  flint  ari-ow- 
heads.  His  name  was  Hathegwendonnis.^'*-  The  woman  asked  iiim  to 
help  her.  He  said,  ''Go  on  as  fast  as  you  can;  the  man  in  the  next 
lodge  will  help  you.  I,  too.  will  do  all  I  can  to  aid  you."  AVhen 
the  (log  and  man  came  to  the  lodge,  Hathogwendonnis  threw  toward 
him  a  handful  of  tlint.  The  flint  flew  in  every  direction;  wherever 
it  struck  it  tore  up  trees  and  earth.  But  the  dog  ran  at  Hathogwen- 
donnis and.  seizing  him  by  the  back  of  the  neck,  shook  him  until 
he  was  dead.  Tiie  woman  reached  the  second  lodge,  where  she  found 
a  man  making  nets.  His  name  was  Hadaeonnis.^"  To  him  she  said, 
■"I  am  running  away;  can  you  help  me^"  He  answered,  "  Cio  on 
as  quickly  as  you  can;  you  will  soon  come  to  a  cabin,  and  the  people 
who  live  there  can  help  you.  I  will  do  all  I  can."  When  the  man 
and  dog  came  to  the  lodge  Hadaeonnis  threw  his  net,  which  caught 
them,  winding  round  and  round  them.  For  a  long  time  they  strug- 
gled; at  last,  breaking  through  tl'.e  net,  the  dog  ran  at  Hadaeonnis, 
seizing  him  by  the  neck,  and  siiaking  him  until  he  was  dead.  In 
the  third  cabin  the  woman  found  four  men.  When  she  had  asked 
them  for  help,  they  began  chopping  down  great  dry  trees,  which 
they  piled  on  her  tracks.  Soon  they  had  a  high  pile,  and  setting  tire 
to  the  wood,  they  stood  waiting,  two  at  each  end.  When  the  dog 
and  the  man  came  to  the  fire,  the  dog  wanted  to  go  around,  but  the 
man,  seeing  that  the  tracks  led  into  the  fire,  said,  '"No;  you  must 
go  through."  When  they  came  out  on  the  other  side,  both  dog  and 
man  were  nearly  dead.  The  eldest  of  the  four  men  said.  '"We  will 
shoot  and  kill  them,"  but  they  found  shooting  had  no  effect.  Tlien 
the  older  man  said,  ''We  will  catch  them  and  pull  out  their  hearts." 
Having  caught  and  killed  them,  tliey  pulled  out  their  hearts;  these 
they  put  into  a  red-hot  kettle,  which  the  old  man  had  heated  over  the 
fire.  'J'he  hearts  Hew  around  and  around  in  the  kettle  trying  to  get 
out.  but  the  men  shot  them  until  they  were  dead  and  burned  up. 

Now  the  old  man,  whose  name  was  Deoneyont,''**  went  to  the  cabin 
and  told  the  woman  she  was  safe.  He  said,  "  You  must  rest  four 
days:  then  you  can  go  home."  Wiien  the  fourth  day  came  the  old 
man  said,  "  It  is  time  to  go.  Your  home  is  in  the  south.  As  you 
travel,  you  will  know  where  you  are."  In  the  afternoon  she  met  a 
man  who  said,  "Toward  night  you  will  see  something  to  eat."  She 
traveled  all  day,  and  in  the  evening  she  came  to  a  stump,  where  she 
found  a  part  of  Ononda  onoqgwa."^''  She  thought  this  must  be  wliat 
he  meant,  so  she  ate  it;  then  she  went  on  until  dark.  The  next  morn- 
ing she  started  again.  In  the  afternoon  she  met  the  same  man,  who 
told  her  she  would  soon  find  something  to  eat.     Toward  nicrht  she 


472  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  S2 

came  to  a  stump,  where  she  found  a  pot  of  hulled  corn.  On  the  fol- 
lowing day,  when  she  awoke,  the  man  was  standing  by  her;  he  said, 
"  You  ai'e  near  liome,  so  I  shall  leave  you  here.  I  am  one  of  those 
whom  you  call  Hadiwenodadyes."  "*  Starting  on,  she  soon  came  in 
sight  of  an  old  cabin.  Then  she  came  to  a  spring  which  she  knew, 
for  it  was  the  spring  where,  when  a  girl,  she  used  to  get  water. 
Going  to  the  cabin,  she  found  all  her  people,  who  looked  very  old. 
She  said,  "  Mother,  I  have  come."  All  were  very  glad  and  said, 
Nyaicen. 

[The  narrator  thinks  the  net-maker  was  a  spider.] 

10-2.  Gaqga  and  Sgagedi^*' 

A  brother  and  his  sister  lived  together  in  a  lodge.  The  brother 
never  allowed  his  sister  to  go  outside.  When  he  went  hunting,  he 
did  not  fail  to  tell  his  dog  to  stay  at  home  and  to  bring  whatever  his 
sister  wanted. 

One  day  when  her  brother  was  hunting  the  sister  wanted  water; 
not  seeing  the  dog  she  thought  what  harm  could  it  do  for  her  to  go 
out  and  bring  back  water  as  quickly  as  possible.  She  ran  to  the 
spring,  and  stooping  down,  filled  the  bucket,  but  as  she  straightened 
up  and  rested,  putting  the  bucket  on  the  edge  of  the  spring,  someone, 
grasping  her  from  behind,  carried  her  away  thi'ough  the  air.  The 
dog  came  on  the  run,  and  barking  loudly,  made  a  spring  into  the  air 
to  catch  her,  but  he  could  not  reach  her.  On  hearing  tlie  dog  bark, 
the  bi-other  hurried  home.  Finding  his  sister  gone,  he  said  to  tlie  dog, 
"  You  have  caused  me  great  trouble."  The  animal  felt  the  rebuke  so 
keenly  that,  putting  his  head  beneath  his  body,  he  became  a  stone. 

Gaqga,  the  man  who  had  stolen  the  young  woman,  took  her  to  an 
island  in  the  middle  of  a  lake,  where  she  passed  some  time.  Every 
day  Gaqga  would  go  away,  returning  with  dry  fish  which  he  found 
on  the  shore.  Sometimes  he  would  bring  pieces  of  human  flesh, 
which  he  ate  himself;  afterward  he  would  send  the  young  woman 
to  get  water  for  him  to  drink. 

One  day  when  the  woman  went  to  the  edge  of  the  island  for  water, 
a  man  stood  before  her,  who  said :  "  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  the 
man  who  is  keeping  you  is  very  hungry,  and  has  made  up  his  mind 
to  kill  you  tomorrow.  He  will  tell  you  to  bring  water  to  fill  the 
kettle;  as  soon  as  you  do  this,  he  will  seize  his  club  to  kill  you. 
You  must  run  behind  the  post  on  which  the  kettle  hangs.  He  will 
strike  the  post  and  break  his  arm.  Then  come  to  this  spot  as  quickly 
as  you  can."  The  next  day  Gaqga  acted  as  the  man  said  he  would. 
When  the  kettle  was  full,  seizing  his  heavy  club,  he  struck  at  the 
girl,  who  ran  behind  the  post;  as  his  arm  came  down  with  the  club 
it  struck  the  post  and  it  broke.  The  woman  ran  to  the  lake.  The 
man  was  there  with  a  canoe.     Both  got  into  it,  and  the  man  pushed 


S^,-S]  MYTHS  473 

out  into  the  lake.  This  iiiim  was  S<;afi:eili.  After  a  while  Gaqiras 
arm  felt  better,  so  he  followed  the  girl  td  the  water.  Seeing  the 
canoe  far  off  on  the  lake,  he  was  verj'  angry,  saying,  "This  is  the 
work  of  Sgagedi."  As  the  canoe  was  approaching  shore,  the  girl 
saw  a  lodge  near  by.  AMien  Sgagedi  stepped  into  the  canoe,  he 
divided  himself,  one  half  sitting  at  each  enil  of  the  canoe.  As  the 
canoe  struck  land,  the  iialf  of  t\w  body  which  was  at  the  stern  was 
raised  and  thrown  forward,  whereupon,  striking  the  front  half, 
it  was  joined  thereto,  so  that  the  two  parts  became  a  whole  man. 
The  girl  was  sitting  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  when  the  niotlier 
of  the  man  came  to  her.  saying.  "My  daugiiter,  come  with  me,"  and 
led  her  to  the  lodge.  She  was  now  Sgagedi's  wife.  Every  time  he 
went  out  on  the  water  he  divitled  himself,  one  half  sitting  at  each 
end  of  the  canoe.  As  soon  as  the  canoe  touched  laud  he  became  whole 
again.  All  his  life  he  had  been  traveling  around  on  the  lake  in 
this  way,  liberating  people  captured  liy  witches. 

After  a  while  the  young  woman  gave  birth  to  twin  boys.  As 
soon  as  they  were  born  the  old  giandinothei-  threw  them  into  the 
lake;  as  they  touched  tiie  water  they  liegan  to  paddle  and  (juickly  swam 
to  shore.  Again  she  threw  tlicui  in  the  water,  l)ut  in  a  mouienl  they 
were  back  again:  then  she  threw  them  far  out  into  tlie  lal<e.  ^^'llen 
they  swam  to  shore  she  said,  "  Tiiat  will  do."'  Tiiey  now  began  to 
run  arouutl  ami  |)lay.  They  gi-ew  vei-y  <|uicidy  and  after  a  while 
said  to  their  father,  "  Vk\'  think  you  ought  to  rest,  so  you  would 
better  stay  at  home  and  let  us  go  out  in  the  canoe  and  do  your  work."' 
"It  is  well,"  replied  the  father. 

Thei'eui)on  the  twins  started  off  in  the  canoe,  and  after  rowing 
some  distance  one  said  to  the  other,  "Seel  tiiere  is  something  on  the 
land  that  looks  as  if  it  wei-e  falliiii:'  tn  pieces."  "That  is  true,"  said 
the  other  brotiier:  "  let  us  go  ashore  and  lind  out  what  it  is."  So  they 
landed,  and  goinir  to  the  spot  tiiey  found  an  old  lodge  lying  Mat 
on  the  ground:  within  was  somctiiing  lii'i'alhing.  which  they  dis- 
covered was  a  very  old  man.  They  got  him  out  of  the  lodge,  and 
one  of  the  boys  said,  "This  is  our  uncle,  and  we  must  carry  him 
home."  The  man  consented  to  go  witli  them.  As  they  were  leaxing 
the  place  he  pointed  to  a  large  stone,  saying.  "That  is  my  dog." 
Striking  it  with  a  switch  he  said,  "(iet  up."'  whei-eupon  the  dog  got 
up.  shaking  himself  and  stretching,  as  is  the  custom  of  dogs.  They 
travele(l  on  until  they  came  to  tiie  water,  with  the  dog  followins 
them.  Then  all  got  into  the  canoe  and  the  boys  paddled  across  the 
lake.  ^^'lH■n  they  reached  home  the  boys  saiil.  "  (irandmother.  we 
have  found  our  uncle."  On  looking  at  the  old  man.  she  was  con- 
vinced that  lie  was  her  brother.  Now  the  boys  said  to  their  grand- 
mother, "  You  must  marry  our  uncle."'  "  It  is  well,""  replied  she. 
After  that  they  all  lived  together  very  happily. 


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

103.   Dagwanoenyent  and   Gaasyendiet'ha'** 

There  was  a  large  village  of  people  provided  with  plenty  of  meat, 
who  lived  happily.  Among  these  people  was  a  man  who  lived  at 
one  end  of  the  village,  whom  few  noticed. 

One  night  this  man  had  a  dream,  in  which  his  Dream  Spirit  said 
to  him,  "  Something  is  going  to  happen  to  the  people  of  the  village, 
so  you  must  notify  them  to  move  away  within  ten  days."  In  the 
morning  he  went  to  the  center  of  the  village,  and  having  gathered 
the  people  together,  told  them  his  dream.  Some  of  them  believed 
and  some  did  not.  Five  days  later,  all  those  who  had  believed  his 
dream  joined  those  who  had  not  believed  and  paid  no  further  heed 
to  the  warning. 

On  the  fifth  night  the  man  dreamed  again.  This  time  his  Dream 
Spirit  said  to  him :  "  We  know  that  all  the  people  do  not  believe 
you.  Now  save  yourself.  Start  within  three  daj's,  taking  your  bow 
and  all  your  arrows  with  you.  About  halfway  up  the  high  hill  east 
ol  the  village  you  will  find  a  large  hollow  rock;  enter  this  cavein, 
and  you  will  find  a  subterranean  passage  running  toward  the  village. 
Look  through  this  passage,  and  you  will  see  all  that  is  going  on  in 
the  village.  The  people  will  be  destroyed.  At  midday  of  the  tenth 
day  a  great  cry  will  lie  raised  by  the  people,  such  a  cry  as  you  have 
never  heard.  When  it  begins  to  die  away  you  must  commence  to 
shoot  through  the  passage,  for  the  monster  that  de.stroys  the  village 
will  track  you  to  this  place.  You  will  save  your  life  if  you  shoot  all 
your  arrows  before  the  monster  reaches  the  underground  passage. 
AVhen  your  arrows  are  gone,  come  out  of  your  hiding  place  and  go 
to  the  place  where  the  monster  has  fallen.  Then  take  a  small  piece 
of  its  skin  together  with  the  hair  (which  is  very  long)  from  the  back 
of  its  head ;  this  will  be  of  use  to  you.  for  it  has  great  orenda  (magical 
power).  This  monster  is  called  Dagwanoenyent.  You  must  wind 
the  hair  around  yoiu-  body  next  to  your  skin  and  declare  at  the  same 
time  that  there  is  nothing  that  j'ou  can  not  do.  At  night  when  it  is 
too  dark  for  you  to  be  seen,  go  northward  a  .short  distance,  and  you 
will  find  a  tree  upturned  by  the  roots.  Go  around  the  roots — you 
must  not  be  frightened,  for  I  will  give  you  something  which  will  be 
of  great  service  to  you." 

The  morning  after  this  dream  the  man  seemed  very  gloomy  and 
unhappy.  When  the  time  came,  taking  his  bow  and  bundle  of 
arrows,  he  started;  going  eastward,  he  soon  began  to  climb  the 
mountain  (he  did  not  take  his  family,  for  all  believed  not  in  his 
dream).  Just  as  the  sun  set  he  came  to  a  large  rock,  in  the  opposite 
side  of  which  he  found  an  opening.  Entering  here,  he  kept  on 
until,^as  he  thought,  he  arrived  dii'ectly  under  the  center  of  the  rock; 
there  he  found  a  room  high  enough  for  him  to  stand  in.     (There 


Zl^l?^  MYTHS  475 

was  stone  all  around,  hut  the  hottoni  was  earth.)  He  now  renieni- 
bered  the  subterranean  passage,  and  lookin<i  around,  he  found  it; 
then  he  lay  down  to  sleep.  The  next  inorniiisi  when  he  went  out 
there  was  a  deer  standing  close  by.  which  he  killed  and  skinned. 
Having  roasted  some  of  the  venison,  he  ate  it  for  breakfast. 

Then  the  man  went  on  top  of  the  rock,  which  he  found  large  and 
level.  The  tenth  day,  us  he  sat  on  the  rock  he  heard  a  great  noise 
coming  from  the  south,  but  he  could  see  nothing,  .\ftei'  a  while 
the  sound  seemed  to  appi'oach  the  village,  whereupon  he  saw  some- 
thing that  looked  liivc  smoke.  lie  saw,  too,  that  the  trees  in  a  very 
wide  area  wei'c  upi'ooted  and  were  tailing  towai'd  the  village.  As 
the  terrible  noise  neared  the  village,  he  went  under  the  rock,  where 
he  took  position  ojiposite  the  undei'grouiul  ]iassage.  As  he  looked 
through  it  the  \illage  seemed  to  him  to  lie  right  at  hand.  In  a 
short  time  he  heai'd  a  terrible  outcry,  which  was  the  screaming  of 
the  people  in  distress.  He  could  see  that  the  huts  were  hurled  up 
into  the  air  and  toin  to  pieces.  He  could  akso  see  the  Monster  eating 
the  people.  When  all  the  rest  were  eaten,  it  missed  one,  and  laugh- 
ing, said,  "  The  world  is  not  large  enough  for  him  to  hide  in."  Then 
the  man  saw  that  the  trees  bent  toward  the  east,  and  from  this 
he  knew  the  Monster  was  on  his  track.  Stringing  his  bow,  he  began 
to  shoot  through  the  undei'gronnd  passage  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
When  but  few  of  his  arrows  remained  the  noise  seemed  to  be  rapidly 
approaching.  T'inally,  when  only  two  arrows  were  left,  he  saw  a 
great  Black  Mimster-^'^  approaching.  Thereupon  he  shot  the  last 
ari-ow.  At  that  in.stant  the  roar  and  noise  ceased,  and  the  Monster 
fell:  he  heard  it  say,  "It  is  dismal  {avendoni/at)  :  you  have  killed 
me."  The  man  said,  'T  will  go  and  see  this  creatui-e."'  On  going  to 
the  place  where  the  head  lay,  an<l  examining  it,  he  discovei-ed  tiiat 
every  arrow  he  had  shot  was  in  the  head.  As  he  stood  there,  think- 
ing, he  said,  "  I  must  do  as  I  was  commanded,"  so  he  took  jiart  of 
the  scalp  from  the  crown  of  the  hea<l.  witii  the  long  hair  hanging 
to  it.  This  he  tied  around  his  body,  saying,  "  You  must  always  help 
me  and  not  let  me  be  ovei'powered  by  anything."  He  then  climbed 
the  remainder  of  the  hill,  reaching  the  top  ([uiclcly,  for  he  could  now 
go  very  fast.  On  looking  aixiund,  he  fouiul  a  place  to  build  a  brush 
hut  and  began  work.  In  a  shoi't  time  he  had  completed  the  hut. 
Then  he  said,  "I  must  iiave  plenty  of  meat,"  and  going  out.  he  saw 
deer.  i>ear,  and  all  other  kinds  of  game  in  great  immbers.  Havintr 
killed  what  he  wanted,  he  skinned  the  deer  and  the  hears.  In  doing 
this,  he  luerely  took  hold  of  the  skin  of  th(>  head  ami  jiulled  it  oil'. 
After  he  had  skinned  the  animals,  he  put  up  hurdles  in  bi-ush  ariiors, 
on  which  he  placed  the  meat  to  dry. 

It  w-as  still  the  day  on  which  he  killed  Dagwanoenyent.  A\'lien 
it  began  to  get  so  dark   tliat   he  could   not  distinguish   objects,   he 


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

started,  as  his  dream  had  said,  toward  the  north.  He  had  not  gone 
far  when  he  came  to  a  fallen  tree  with  the  roots  turned  up.  On 
starting  to  go  around  this,  when  halfway  around,  he  saw  Gaasyen- 
diet'ha,  which  had  its  great  moutli  open  and  seemed  very  angry. 
When  the  Gaasyendiet'ha  saw  that  the  man  was  not  frightened,  it 
began  to  laugh;  then,  changing  itself  to  a  man  (human  being).,  it 
said:  "You  must  take  one  of  my  teeth  out.  This  will  be  of  great 
use  to  you,  for  it  will  enable  you  to  change  yourself  into  any  form 
j-ou  wish."  The  man  took  out  one  of  the  double  teeth,  the  one 
farthest  back  in  tlie  jaw.  At  this  Gaasyendiet'ha  said:  "You  shall 
live.  You  shall  have  full  magical  power  in  your  possession,  but  you 
and  I  must  always  counsel  with  each  other,  especially  if  you  are 
in  trouble;  now  we  must  part."  Immediately  Gaasyendiet'ha,  resimi- 
ing  his  natural  form,  flew  off  through  the  air. 

Going  back  to  his  hut,  the  man  made  up  his  mind  that  this  should 
be  his  home  hereafter.  He  remained  in  the  hut  one  year;  at  the  end 
of  that  time,  getting  lonely,  he  thought  of  the  people,  and  said  to  him- 
self :  "  I  will  go  and  see  whether  I  can  find  anybod}'."  As  he  started 
he  turned  himself  into  a  Gadjidas^""  and  flew  toward  the  southwest. 
He  did  not  know  how  far  he  might  go  before  finding  people,  but, 
as  he  soared  iiigh.  he  kept  looking  down  on  the  earth.  After  a  time 
he  saw  something  directly  to  the  west  wliich  made  him  think  people 
were  living  there,  so  he  came  lower  and  lower.  When  near  the 
ground  he  saw  a  village  and  said:  "Well,  I  shall  eat  up  all  the 
people  that  live  here,  but  if  I  find  a  good-looking  woman,  I  shall 
take  her  home."  Then  he  turned  himself  into  a  Ganiagwaihegowa, 
and,  beginning  at  the  first  house,  he  ate  all  the  people.  AVhen  he 
thought  he  had  eaten  everybody  and  had  seen  no  woman  that  suited 
him,  he  saw  away  off  on  one  side  of  the  town  a  little  hut  from  which 
smoke  came  out.  Going  there,  he  found  an  old  man  and  a  woman  with 
several  children,  all  of  whom  he  ate.  Then  saying,  "  I  have  finished,"' 
he  changed  himself  into  a  man.  He  stood  around  a  while  and  then, 
seeing  a  little  trail,  followed  it.  He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  met  a 
woman  who  was  very  handsome  and  whom  he  liked  at  once.  As 
they  talked  together  he  asked :  "  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  "  Oh  !  right 
over  here  at  that  lodge,"  she  replied.  He  said,  "  You  would  better  go 
home  with  me,  for  there  is  no  one  living  there;  all  the  people  are 
dead."  "I  must  see  first,"  she  answered.  They  then  went  back  to 
the  village.  She  led  him  to  the  last  hut,  in  which  he  had  found  the 
old  man  and  woman  with  the  children.  She  was  their  daughter. 
Finding  only  the  blood  on  the  ground,  she  began  to  cry.  He  laid 
his  hand  on  the  top  of  her  head,  and  as  he  touched  her  she  instantly 
became  senseless:  whereupon  he  shook  her,  causing  her  to  become  a 
small  gnat.  Changing  himself  into  a  hen  hawk  and  putting  the- 
gnat  (ogenhivan)  under  his  wing,  he  flew  off  in  the  direction  of  his; 


-^-S]  ^'"ns  ■      ■  477 

home.  In  a  short  time  he  was  thei'e,  and.  rhanpinji  himself  into  a 
man  again,  he  took  the  woman  from  uniler  his  wing  and  shook  her 
back  into  her  natural  form  and  size.  Then  he  said:  "This  is  our 
home;  you  must  stay  here  and  take  care  of  the  meat  and  the  lodge." 
She  obeyed,  while  every  day  he  went  off  to  hunt. 

One  night  some  time  afterwai'd,  as  they  sat  in  the  hut  the  man 
heard  a  noise  outside,  as  though  some  one  were  coming  on  a  run. 
Suddenly  tlie  door  opened  and  a  man  came  in.  They  greeted  one 
another.  "  I  have  come  again,"  said  the  man.  ''  I  find  that  you 
have  made  yourself  into  two  persons  now.  I  am  here  to  warn  you. 
A  great  monster  has  liecome  very  envious  of  you  and  has  said, 
'  There  is  a  man  over  j-onder  who  has  become  magically  very  pow- 
erful, and  I  ha\e  determined  to  ti'V  to  overpower  him  and  to  eat 
him.'  Tomorrow  at  noon  this  monster  will  come.  You  must  go 
eastwai'd  until  you  rcat-li  a  iai-ge  hill  of  stones,  half  as  higli  as 
the  highest  mountain,  not  far  from  here.  The  place  will  be  your 
only  refuge  when  this  monster  attacks  you.  Get  up  on  these 
rocks,  and  when  it  approaches  you,  you  must  jnnii)  from  one  rock 
to  another.  It  will  jump  after  you,  but  when  it  fails  to  reach  you 
and  falls,  you  may  feel  safe.  We  will  then  take  care  of  it.  Tliis  is 
wliat  I  had  to  tell  j'ou,  so  now  I  shall  go."  'i'lie  nuui  and  his  wife  went 
to  sleeji.  The  next  morning  the  woman,  noticing  tiiat  her  husband 
was  gloomy,  said.  "What  is  the  matter?"'  "Nothing,  except  I  am 
thinking  of  wliat  will  become  of  me  today  at  noon."  (She  had 
neither  seen  nor  heard  the  strange  man  who  had  spoken  to  her  hus- 
band, aitliougli  she  was  pi-esent.  They  two  were  so  powerful  in 
orenda  tiiat  only  they  heard  wliat  was  said.)  The  husband,  walk- 
ing up  and  down,  seemed  to  be  very  uneasy. 

As  it  neared  noon,  leaving  his  wife,  the  man  started  for  the  rocks. 
Seating  himself  on  the  top  of  the  iiighest  roclv,  he  waited.  Just  at 
midday  he  heard  a  great  noise,  a  distant  howl;  then  he  heard  an- 
other nearer;  then  a  third  iiowl,  just  at  the  rocks.  Xow  by  way  of 
defiance  he  gave  a  whoop,  rolling  out.  "I  am  the  sti'ongest  of  the 
strong.  Nothing  can  ovei'powei-  me."  The  source  of  the  .sound  was 
a  bear,  the  oldest  and  strongest  of  the  great  bears.  As  it  came  up, 
it  leaped  on  the  rocks  where  the  man  stood,  whereupon  he  jumjied 
on  the  next  rock,  with  the  monster  clo.se  behind  him.  In  this  way 
they  kept  leaping  from  one  rock  to  another,  being  ever  about  the 
same  distance  apart,  until  the  man  bi'gan  to  fee!  tired  and  faint,  and 
as  he  looked  ahead  the  next  rock  seemed  farther  oft'  than  any  of  the 
others  had  been.  Making  a  greater  exertion,  he  just  reached  it.  The 
bear  was  close  behind  him,  but  as  it  sprang,  it  fell  short,  just  strik- 
ing its  jaws  on  the  edge  of  the  rock.  The  man  looked  over  the  edge 
of  the  rock  and  then  juiu))ed  to  the  ground.  .\s  he  stinick  the  ground, 
looking  behind  him.  h(>  saw  the  rock  from  which  be  had  leapecl  turn 


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

over  and  fall  on  the  monster,  killing  it.  "  That  is  what  I  said ; 
there  is  nothing  that  can  overpower  me,"  the  young  man  thought. 
He  then  went  back  to  his  hut  very  happy.  His  wife  asked  what  had 
happened  to  him.  "  I  have  killed  a  monster  bear  that  came  to  de- 
stroy me,"  he  replied. 

Now  all  went  on  as  usual.  One  day  after  the  man  returned  from 
hunting,  as  he  and  his  wife  sat  by  the  fire  they  heard  a  man  ap- 
proaching the  hut,  and  they  kept  listening  until  he  came  to  the 
door.  When  the  man  opened  the  door,  there  stood  his  friend.  For 
the  first  time  now  the  woman  saw  him.  They  greeted  each  other. 
The  guest  said :  "  The  time  has  come  when  your  life  is  again  in 
danger,  but  I  will  try  to  save  you  and  your  wife.  I  will  tell  you 
what  to  do.  Rub  your  hands  on  your  wife's  head  and  she  will  turn 
to  Os'hada ;  ^''^  then  you  must  tell  it  to  follow  you  wherever  you  go. 
It  will  not  be  well  for  you  to  stay  here;  you  must  go  away,  but 
remain  here  as  long  as  you  can  after  your  wife  has  gone.  She  must 
start  immediately  after  you  change  her  into  Os'hada,  and  when 
you  have  given  up  all  hope  of  being  able  to  staj',  then  flee  directly 
toward  the  south.  Tomorrow  morning  as  soon  as  you  get  up,  you 
must  do  as  I  have  told  you.  I  shall  go  now  and  we  shall  meet 
again." 

Thereupon  the  visitor  started  off.  The  man  and  wife  began  to 
talk.  They  did  not  know  what  to  do.  In  the  morning  the  man 
rubbed  her  head,  saying,  "  Let  my  wife  become  Os'hada."  At  once 
she  became  Os'hada  and  rested  on  his  hand,  while  with  the  other  hand 
he  rubbed  it  off  in  the  direction  it  was  to  go.  Then  piling  up  all  his 
meat,  he  said  in  a  loud  voice,  "I  give  this  meat  to  you,  all  flesh-eating 
animals  that  live  in  the  woods."  He  now  went  toward  the  southeast 
from  his  lodge  to  a  very  large  elm  tree,  which  was  smooth  up  to  a 
great  height,  where  branches  formed  a  crotch.  Climbing  the  ti'ce,  he 
sat  in  this  crotch.  Soon  he  noticed  that  he  felt  faint  and  very  weak 
at  intervals,  and  he  thought  that  there  must  be  near  him  something 
mysterious.  He  looked  around  everywhere,  but  saw  nothing.  Taking 
out  the  tooth  Gaasyendiet'ha  had  given  him,  he  dampened  it  with 
spittle;  then  having  rubbed  his  finger  over  the  tooth,  he  passed  it 
over  his  eyes,  saying.  "  Now  I  can  see  everything  that  is  gfiing  on, 
even  clown  in  the  ground."  On  looking  into  the  ground,  he  saw, 
deep  down,  a  tree  and  on  the  tree  a  great  monster.  He  sat  still, 
watching  it  as  it  slowly  climbed  the  tree.  As  it  came  near  the  top, 
the  faint  feeling  grew  stronger  on  the  man.  He  saw  that  the  animal 
was  a  Djainosgowa,^"-  the  greatest  of  the  Djainos  family  of  monsters. 
This  Djainosgowa  had  determined  to  overpower  the  orenda  of  the 
man.  It  came  up  out  of  the  ground  and  up  into  the  heart  of  the 
tree  on  which  the  man  was  sitting.  As  it  came  nearer  and  nearer, 
the  man  leaped  to  another  tree.    At  that  instant  the  Djainosgowa, 


CURTIN.-I  MYTHS  479 

HE  WITT  J 

coming  out  at  the  place  where  the  man  had  been  sitting,  said, 
'■'■  Guhge  sedjino"  (You  are  indeed  somewhat  of  a  man,  but  I  am 
determined  to  overpower  you  in  orenda)."  Tiiereupon  the  Djainos- 
gowa  leaped  toward  the  man,  init  the  man  jumped  to  another  tree, 
and  then  from  tree  to  tree,  the  Djainosgowa  following.  There  was  a 
great  rock  at  the  brink  of  the  hill  to  which  the  man  ran;  from  this 
he  leaped  through  the  air  across  the  great  valley  to  a  mountain  far 
away.  Thence  he  ran  directly  southward,  right  along  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  descending  on  the  other  side  to  another  very  wide 
valley.  He  ran  across  this  valley  and  had  begun  to  as(x'nd  the  moun- 
tain on  the  other  side  when  he  heard  the  monster  in  close  pursuit.  It 
tinned  to  run  all  night.  In  the  morning  he  came  to  an  oi)ening,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  valley.  It  was  nearly  dark,  but  the  man  con- 
tinued to  run  all  night.  In  the  morning  he  came  t'^  an  opening,  on 
the  farther  side  of  which  he  could  discern  a  hill  and  smoke  arising. 
As  he  came  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  he  stopped,  and  turning 
arouiul,  he  saw  that  tiie  monster  Djainosgowa  had  gotten  to  the 
opening.  Kaising  its  paw,  it  struck  the  man's  footprint  on  the  trail. 
Instantly  the  man  fell  to  the  ground.  As  he  fell,  his  friend  ap- 
peared and  said:  "(iet  up;  you  cannot  live  if  you  fall  this  way."' 
So  saying,  he  pushed  him  into  a  run,  telling  him  to  hurry.  The  man 
then  felt  stronger  and  again  ran  fast  from  valley  to  valley,  witii  the 
Djainosgowa  always  about  the  same  distance  behind.  All  at  once 
the  nuin  fell  again.  Immediately  his  friend  was  there,  and  put  iiim 
on  his  feet,  saying,  "  Keep  up  your  courage,"  at  the  same  time  push- 
ing him  into  a  run.  Again  he  felt  stronger  and  ran  fast.  He  ran  all 
night.  It  was  a  very  dark  night  and  he  struck  a  great  maple  tree, 
going  straight  through  it:  this  happened  many  times  during  the 
night,  whenever  he  hit  a  tree. 

P'or  eight  days  and  nights  the  monster  chased  him.  When  it  dis- 
covered that  the  man  went  througii  trees  it  threw  its  power  ahead  of 
him,  nuiking  the  trees  so  hard  that  the  man  could  no  longer  go 
through  them.  On  the  ninth  night  the  monster  commanded  a  terrible 
rainstorm  to  come  and  the  night  to  be  so  dark  tluit  the  man  could  not 
see  where  he  was  going,  but  the  man  ran  on  until  midnight  without 
hitting  a  tree.  Just  at  midnight  he  struck  a  tree  and  was  thrown  far 
back.  At  that  moment  his  friend  was  there,  who  said,  "Do  all  you 
can;  exert  yourself";  and  taking  hold  of  his  hand  he  led  him.  They 
two  went  and  traveled  a  great  deal  faster  than  the  man  had  gone 
alone,  unaided  by  his  friend,  Gaasyendiet'ha.  the  ^leteor.  The  two 
ran  together  until  daylight,  when  the  friend  left  and  the  man  went  on 
alone.  This  was  the  tenth  day  and  he  began  to  be  very  tired  and 
faint,  but  still  the  monster  was  approaching  and  its  strokes  on  his 
tracks  were  frequent,  so  that  the  man  fell  often.  The  chances  seemed 
against  his  escape.    Night  came  and  the  Djainosgowa  nuide  it  terribly 


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

dark.  Running  against  a  tree,  the  man  bounded  far  back,  but  for- 
tunately the  Djainosgowa  was  so  near  that  he  fell  behind  it.  The 
Djainosgowa,  having  likewise  struck  the  tree,  was  also  thrown  back. 
At  once  the  man  was  up  and  running  forward  again.  The  Djainos- 
gowa was  just  upon  him  and  was  reaching  out  to  grasp  him  when  the 
man  fell,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  into  a  hole  in  the  ground.  He  thought, 
"  Well,  I  am  near  my  end.  When  I  strike  I  shall  be  dashed  to  pieces." 
He  kept  falling,  and  as  he  fell  he  grew  sleepy.  Looking  up  he  saw 
the  monster  coming  down  the  side  of  the  hole,  winding  round  and 
rt)und.  Thereupon  the  man  went  to  sleep.  After  a  long  time  he  woke 
and  was  .still  falling,  and  the  monster  was  still  pursuing  him.  At  last 
the  man  landed  on  his  feet.  He  seemed  to  have  come  out  of  the  hole, 
and  on  looking  aroimd  he  saw  a  beautiful  country.  Saying  to  him- 
self, "  My  friend  told  me  to  go  toward  the  south,"  he  ran  in  that 
direction.  As  he  went  on  rapidly  he  saw  the  Djainosgowa  coming 
toward  him  very  fast,  and  thought.  "  Now  I  shall  die."  As  it  came 
near  the  monster  turned  itself  into  a  man.  The  runner,  closing  his 
eyes,  kept  on  thinking,  "  I  will  not  be  looking  at  him  when  he  reaches 
me."  He  ran  until  he  thought  it  was  a  long  time  to  wait  to  be  seized ; 
then  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  around,  but  he  could  not  see  the 
Djainosgowa,  but  still  he  kept  on  running. 

Soon  the  man  came  to  a  lodge,  which  he  entered,  finding  within  an 
old  man,  who,  looking  up,  exclaimed :  "  Oh.  my  grandson  !  I  am 
glad  you  have  come.  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  a  long  time.  You 
are  bringing  with  you  what  I  have  wanted  to  eat  for  a  long  time. 
So  go  back  there  and  stay.  The  Djainosgowa  and  I  will  fight  alone. 
We  will  see  whether  it  is  as  powerful  as  it  thinks  it  is."  Soon  the 
noise  of  the  monster's  approach  could  be  heard.  Coming  to  the 
lodge,  it  asked,  "Where  is  the  man  I  have  been  chasing? "  The  old 
man  said,  "Here  I  am."  "No;  you  are  not  the  man,"  Djainosgowa 
replied.  "  I  am ;  but  if  you  think  it  is  some  one  else,  you  shall  not 
find  out  until  you  overpower  me,"  retorted  the  old  man.  The 
Djainosgowa  said,  "Come  outside;  there  is  not  room  in  here." 
"  Very  well,"  replied  the  old  man,  and,  arising,  he  went  out.  Then 
they  began  to  fight.  Whenever  the  animal  bit  the  old  man,  tearing 
open  the  flesh,  it  immediately  came  together  and  healed.  The  old 
man  tore  off  the  forelegs  of  the  Djainosgowa.  They  fought  until 
the  Djainosgowa  was  torn  to  pieces  and  the  old  man  convinced  him- 
self that  the  pieces  were  not  alive.  Then  he  hung  up  the  meat  in  the 
lodge  and  said  to  his  grandson :  "  Come  out !  I  have  killed  the  mon- 
ster you  were  afraid  of.  I  am  very  thankful,  for  I  have  been 
wishing  for  this  kind  of  meat  for  a  long  time."  The  old  man  boiled 
the  meat  in  a  large  kettle,  not  leaving  a  particle.  In  a  small  kettle 
he  cooked  bear's  meat  for  his  grandson.  As  the  meat  was  boiling, 
he  put  corn  into  the  pounder  and  with  only  a  few  strokes  it  became 


CDHTl 
HE 


witt]  myths  481 


corn  meal;  then  having  made  bread,  he  began  to  eat.  He  was  con- 
stantly giving  thanks  for  the  meat  he  was  eating.  At  last,  when 
he  had  eaten  every  bit  of  the  great  Djainosgowa  he  said:  "I  thank 
you,  my  grandson,  for  this  will  last  me  foi-  a  great  many  tens  of 
years.  You  must  stay  with  me  until  you  are  rested  and  cured,  for 
you  have  i)een  infected  by  the  oreiida  (magic  power)  of  this  great 
monster." 

One  day  the  old  man  said,  "  I  want  you  to  see  what  I  have 
phuited."'  A  short  i_listance  from  the  lodge  they  came  to  a  lield  where 
something  was  growing.  The  old  man  said.  "  This  is  called  onenon." 
'J'hei'e  were  great  tall  cornstalks  with  ears  of  corn  on  them  as  long 
as  the  man  was  tall  and  kernels  as  large  as  a  man's  head.  The  field 
extended  farther  than  the  eye  could  see.  The  oUl  man  said.  "  Let  us 
go  on  the  other  side."  There  the  young  man  saw  another  field, 
whei-e  all  varieties  of  corn  were  growing,  (ioing  on,  they  came  to 
a  third  field,  whereu|)on  the  old  man  said,  "These  are  squashes." 
They  were  very  large  and  in  great  variety.  I'assing  the  squash  field, 
they  went  to  the  old  man's  lodge. 

The  next  day.  after  he  had  rested,  the  grandson,  having  bade  the 
old  man  good-by,  went  on.  lie  (ra\eled  many  days  and  finally  came 
to  a  large  opening,  where  there  was  a  village.  After  thinking 
a  while,  he  went  to  the  lodge  of  the  chief,  who  receivetl  him  well. 
The  chief's  daughter,  looking  at  him,  asked,  ''  Have  you  ever  heaid 
of  a  man  sending  his  wife  otf  in  the  form  of  Os'luula,  a  vajior  ^  "  He 
thought  and  thought  this  over;  he  had  entirely  forgotten  about  it. 
After  a  gooil  while,  remembering  the  past,  he  said,  "Yes;  1  myself 
did  that."  "I  thought  I  recognized  you.  I  am  your  wife,"  de- 
clared the  wonia^i.     They  were  glad  to  be  together  again. 

104.     DaGWANoKNYKNTOOWA    S'lIAOODKiF.ND.II '"^    AND    YkNON.SGWA 

Dagwanoenyentgowa  S'hagodigendji,  the  eldest  woman  of  her 
people,  lived  in  the  woods  with  two  grandchildren,  a  boy  and  a 
girl. 

One  day,  when  the  old  woman  had  gone  on  a  journey,  a  Yenonsgwa 
came  to  the  lodge.  Picking  up  the  younger  child,  after  speaking 
kindly  to  her  and  saying  that  she  was  a  pretty  little  thing,  the 
Yenonsgwa  swallowed  her.  Then  she  began  to  talk  to  the  boy.  tell- 
mg  him  how  well  he  looked,  but  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  look  for  his  grandmother.  Accordingly  he  climbed 
on  her  back;  but  soon  becoming  frightened,  he  grasped  her  so 
tightly  that  he  became  fastened  to  it,  so  he  could  not  get  off,  although 
he  tried  haid  to  do  so.  The  Yenonsgwa  stai-ted  off.  but  went  in  a 
direction  different  from  that  where  his  grandmother  was.  The  boy 
94615°— 16 31 


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

told  her  so,  but  she  said :  "  Oh  !  we  shall  soon  come  to  the  place  where 
she  is."  The  Yenonsg^va  woman  went  very  far  into  the  woods,  and 
the  boy  began  to  cry  for  his  grandmother;  he  cried  so  hard  that 
Yenonsgwa  told  him  to  get  off  lier  back.  She  did  not  like  to  hear 
him  cry,  and,  moreover,  she  wanted  to  eat  him.  But  he  did  not  get 
off,  for  he  could  not  do  so.  Yenonsgwa  could  neither  get  her  hands 
around  to  pull  him  off,  nor  could  she  turn  her  head  to  bite  him;  she 
could  not  get  at  him  in  any  waj\  Knowing  this,  the  boy  clung  to  the 
middle  of  her  back,  for  he  knew  also  that  she  would  eat  him  if  he 
slipped  down.    They  traveled  thus  for  many  days. 

When  the  grandmother  returned  home  she  found  that  the  boy 
and  girl  were  not  in  the  lodge,  and  she  became  very  uneasy.  She 
searched  everywhere,  but  found  no  traces  of  either.  After  a  while, 
finding  the  tracks  of  the  Yenonsgwa  around  the  lodge,  she  guessed 
what  the  trouble  was.  The  old  woman  followed  the  trail  of  the 
Yenonsgwa,  saying  that  she  was  bound  to  get  her  grandchildren 
back. 

Yenonsgwa  tried  to  get  the  boy  off.  even  rubbing  him  against  a 
hickory  tree,  but  the  boy  said :  "  Oh !  I  like  that.  Rub  harder."  At 
this  she  stopped  rubbing  and  went  on.  The  grandmother,  in  the 
form  of  a  whirlwind,  followed  her,  and  Yenonsgwa  told  the  boy 
that  his  grandmother  was  following  as  a  whirlwind,  and  would  strike 
and  kill  both.  The  boy  was  silent.  Then  looking  around  for  a  refuge, 
Yenonsgwa  found  a  hiding  place  in  a  deep  ravine.  There  she  dug  a 
hole,  into  which  she  went  and  covered  herself  with  the  earth  which 
slipped  down  from  above.  Now  Yenonsgwa  heard  Dagwanoenyent- 
gowa  coming,  and  said  to  the  boy:  "  You  can  hear  your  grandmother 
coming  if  you  listen."  Then  the  Dagwanoenyentgowa  rushed  over  the 
place  where  they  lay.  The  boy  shouted  to  his  grandmother,  who  heard 
him.  Changing  her  course,  she  came  back  straight  to  the  spot  where 
they  were,  blowing  the  earth  off  the  hiding  place,  so  that  Yenonsgwa 
was  visible  on  the  surface  of  the  ground.  "When  the  grandmother 
asked  the  boy  whether  he  was  there,  he  answered :  "  Yes."  The 
Yenonsgwa,  howevei',  lay  still,  whispering  to  the  boy:  "Be  quiet! 
Your  grandmother  will  see  us."  The  grandmother  then  called  to 
the  boy  by  name:  "  Dagwanoenyentgowa,  get  off  Yenonsgwa's  back." 
Having  done  so,  he  went  a  short  distance  from  her  inside  the  cavern. 
Then  the  old  woman,  his  grandmother,  hurled  great  stones  at 
Yenonsgwa,  rending  all  her  clothes  of  rock  and  killing  her.  There- 
upon the  old'  woman  took  her  grandson  with  her  toward  home.  On 
the  road  she  said :  "  Never  allow  yourself  to  be  treated  in  this  way 
again.  Never  let  anyone  maltreat  you.  You  can  master  all  those 
people  if  you  only  use  your  orenda  (magic  power),  for  you  are  a 
Dagwanoenyentgowa  like  myself."  The  old  woman  remained  at 
home  a  few  days  with  her  grandson. 


^^il!^^  MYTHS  483 

Meanwhile  some  of  the  Yenonspwa's  peopk;  found  her  trail,  which 
they  followed  until  they  came  to  the  place  wiiei'e  hei-  clotiies  were 
rent  and  scattered,  and  she  lay  death  When  tiiey  asked,  the  spirit 
of  the  Yenonsgwa  told  them  that  the  old  woman  inid  killed  her  and 
had  rent  her  t-oating  of  stone.  The  men  of  the  ^'enonsgwa's  people 
now  resolved  to  collect  a  large  company  of  theii-  people  to  kill  the 
old  woman.  Dagwanoenycntgowa. 

While  they  were  preparing  for  this,  the  old  woman,  while  she  was 
out  on  one  of  her  journeys,  found  out  their  plans.  AVhen  she  heard 
the  news  of  the  intended  attack  she  said  to  her  grandson,  "We  nnust 
get  your  sister  out  of  the  belly  of  the  Yenonsgwa,  for  she  is  sitting 
within,  crying  for  me  all  the  time."  So  tliey  set  out  from  home,  and 
when  they  reached  the  place  whei-e  Yenonsgwa  lay  dead  the  old 
woman,  having  built  a  little  fire,  began  to  burn  tobacco  on  it  for  her 
granddaughter,  saying,  "This  is  what  we  like;  this  is  what  we  like." 
JShe  burned  perhaps  half  a  pouch  full  and  kejit  pu.shing  the  smoke 
toward  the  Venonsgwa's  body,  saying,  "I'his  is  what  we  like.  Do 
you  come  out  of  Yenon.sgwa's  body.''  Still  no  sign  of  the  grand- 
daughter; she  did  not  come  out  of  Yenonsgwa's  body.  At  last  the 
old  wonum  said:  "  We  must  have  more  help.  You  have  a  great  many 
relatives — uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins.  AVe  must  call  thcin  licre." 
So  saying,  tiie  old  woman,  the  Dagwanoenyentgowa,  called  them 
loudly.  They  came  one  by  one.  There  was  a  great  number  of  them. 
They  broke  up  and  removed  all  the  clothing  of  the  Yenonsgwa, 
which  they  threw  away,  leaving  the  body  naked.  Then  the  old 
woman  built  a  lire  at  Yenonsgwa's  head,  on  which  she  bui-ne<l  tobacco. 
All  the  Dag^vanoenyentgowa  walked  around  the  fire,  each  throwing 
tobacco  into  it,  .saying.  "This  is  what  we  like;  this  is  what  we  like.'" 
After  each  one  of  them  had  gone  ai-ound  once  and  had  thrown  tobacco 
into  the  lire  once,  the  young  girl  stai'ted  up  in  Yenonsgwa's  body, 
panting  for  breath.  Soon  she  arose,  and  walking  out,  said,  "How 
long  have  I  been  heiv?"  The  people  giive  her  tobacco  to  smok(>. 
She  inhaled  it  until  she  gained  her  full  strength.  Then  all  went 
home — the  old  woman  with  her  two  grandchildien  to  her  lodge,  and 
the  other  Dagwaiioenyents  each  to  his  own  place. 

After  they  had  been  home  a  while  aYenoni^gwa  came  to  the  old 
Avonian's  lodge,  who  talked  pleasantly  and  iiKpiired  how  they  were. 
Finding  out  that  they  wei'e  only  three  in  number,  the  Yenonsgwa  went 
back,  thinking  it  would  be  a  small  task  to  kill  them.  After  the  Ye- 
nonsgwa had  gone  away  the  old  woman  said,  "  We  are  in  trouble  now. 
There  is  a  great  number  of  these  Yenonsgwa  people  leagued  together 
against  us.  They  are  assembled  somewhere  around  here.  When  this 
stniggle  commences  we  do  not  know  whether  or  not  we  shall  be  able 
to  come  home  here  ;igain."'  .\s  soon  as  she  had  finished  talking  with 
her  grandchildren  the  old  woman  weiU  out  and  called  loud  and  long, 


& 


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

"  Dagwanoenyentgowa !  Dagwanoenyentgowa!  Dagwanoenyent- 
gowa !  "  The  girl  did  not  know  what  that  meant,  so  she  asked  her 
grandmother,  who  told  her,  "  I  am  calling  your  relatives  to  help  us. 
You  are  a  Dagwanoenyentgowa,  too."  They  came  one  by  one.  When 
all  had  come  they  numbered  60,  besides  the  old  woman  and  her  grand- 
children. Dagwanoenyentgowa  S'hagodigendji  said  that  each  one 
must  have  a  round  stone  to  strike  with,  just  heavy  enough  to  handle 
well.  They  had  barely  gotten  the  stones  when  the  Yenonsgwa  began 
to  appear,  thousands  and  thousands  in  number.  The  Dagwanoen- 
yentgowa were  frightened  when  they  saw  them,  but  the  old  woman 
who  led  them  said,  "  We  must  separate  and  attack  them  singly.  You 
must  keep  the  stones  in  your  hands.  Be  firm  and  have  the  faith  that 
you  will  kill  with  one  blow  each  one  you  hit  and  you  will  do  so."  ^" 
Then  the  Dagwanoenyentgowas  ran  off  in  different  directions,  with 
the  Yenonsgwa  chasing  them.  Whenever  they  had  the  chance  the 
Dagwanoenyentgowa  struck  and  killed  a  Yenonsgwa,  and  so  they 
kept  retreating  and  killing  the  Yenonsgwa  for  a  long  distance.  The 
old  woman  told  all  her  people  to  go  up  a  high  mountain  on  the  south 
ahead  of  them  and  to  continue  fighting  as  they  went,  saying,  "  W^hen 
we  all  I'each  the  top  we  will  go  down  a  little  on  the  other  side,  and 
the  Yenonsgwa  will  come  to  the  top,  and  we  shall  then  strike  them. 
One  part  of  us  will  strike  them  from  the  east  and  the  other  from 
the  west  side,  and  we  will  get  behind  them  and  drive  them  into  the. 
gi'eat  ravine  on  the  south  side  of  the  mountain,  where  a  river  runs, 
and  they  will  all  perish  there."  On  coming  to  the  mountain  top, 
where  there  was  a  large  space,  and  looking  around  the  Yenonsgwa 
saw  nothing  of  the  Dagwanoenyentgowa.  They  looked  on  every 
side,  but  could  see  no  one,  whereupon  they  thought  that  the  Dag- 
wanoenyentgowas had  gone  for  good.  They  had  not  stood  there  long, 
however,  when  they  heard  the  sound  of  wind  below  them  on  the 
mountain  on  both  sides  of  them.  The  sound  grew  louder  and  louder, 
and  presently  the  Dagwanoenyentgowa  struck  them  on  both  sides. 
and  uniting  in  their  rear  struck  them  there  also.  So  terrible  were 
the  attack  and  the  power  of  the  Dagwanoenyentgowa  that  they  tore 
all  the  trees  out  by  their  roots  and  swept  the  earth  from  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  hurling  the  trees  and  earth  into  the  ravine  and  river 
below.  The  dead  Yenonsgwas  were  piled  up  on  one  another  like 
rocks  in  the  river  bed  and  along  its  banks.  The  Dagwanoenyentgowa 
were  now  dancing  on  the  mountain  top,  when  the  old  woman  said, 
"  We  have  hurled  the  Yenonsgwa  down  there  now  and  we  would 
better  finish  them.  Let  half  of  you  go  along  the  ridge  running  south 
from  this  mountain  east  of  the  river  and  the  other  half  on  the  west- 
ern ridge  and  blow  all  the  trees  and  stones  and  earth  into  the  great 
ravine."  They  did  so,  and  when  they  came  together  they  had 
stripped  the  mountain  spurs  naked.     The  river  forced  everything 


,---Vy  MYTHS  485 

to  the  end  of  the  i-:iviiie.  pilinp;  up  the  debris  in  a  gi'eat  dam.  so  that 
the  river  became  a  hike  on  tiie  south  side  of  tlie  mountain,  wiiich  is 
called  Hadiqsadon  Genonsgwa  ganyudae.^" 

105.  The  Twelve   Bkotiiers   and   Tiieik   Unci.e,   Dagwanoentext 

Once  there  lived  12  brothers  who  were  iji-eat  liunters.  and  who 
dwelt  veiy  liai)pily  topetlier.  Everyone  knew  that  they  excelled  in 
whatever  they  undertook,  for  they  liad  i:reat  lUML^ical  i)owers  and 
were  honest. 

Every  morning  the  brothers  would  start  off  in  difTeient  directions 
to  hunt,  and  would  return  in  the  evening.  The  eldest  brother  seemed 
to  undei'stand  best  the  women,  who  went  around  tiie  world  to  destroy 
men,  so  he  always  avoided  them.  One  day.  however,  while  he  was 
hunting  he  saw  a  red-iieaded  woodpecker  drumming  on  the  trees, 
making  a  great  noise.  As  he  watched  tiie  bird.' it  went  arouufl  the 
tree  and  then  flew  to  anotlier  tree  and  around  tiiat.  Einally  it  flew 
to  the  ground,  and.  behold  !  a  beautiful  young  woman  took  the  place 
of  the  bird.  She  said  to  the  hunter,  "Are  you  not  asliamed  to  point 
an  arrow  at  a  woman?  Come  and  talk  to  me."  Tiiereupon  he  went 
up  to  her — this  was  the  last  thing  he  remembered.  She  took  him  to 
a  high  rock  where  stood  another  woman,  who  said  "  Let  his  bones 
come  to  the  ground."  and  his  body  fell,  becoming  a  heap  of  bones. 
Great  piles  of  human  lioncs  hiy  around  this  rock,  for  many  men  had 
been  decoyed  to  tlie  ])iace  by  tiie  first  woman  and  destroyed  by  the 
other. 

Xight  came,  and  as  the  eldest  brother  ditl  not  i-etiirn.  tlic  rcmain- 
ing'll  said  that  some  evil  had  befallen  him.  and  tliat  lie  would  never 
return.  As  predicted,  he  never  came  home;  his  mat  remained 
vacant,  and  they  left  everything  as  it  was  and  mourned  him  as  dead. 

After  a  long  time  another  brother  was  missing  one  evening  and 
he.  too,  never  returned.  Later  it  was  learned  that  while  walking 
along  in  the  woods  he  came  upon  two  women,  who  with  their  wiles 
put  him  to  sleep.  One  of  them  said  :  "  Let  us  put  him  into  the  ground 
mitil  mold  appears  all  over  him — he  shall  be  alive — and  let  him 
remain  there  until  his  uncle  finds  out  where  he  is  and  rescues  him." 

Now.  the  10  remaining  brothers  were  greatly  alarmed,  and  they 
told  their  youngest  brother,  whom  they  loved  very  dearly,  that  "he 
must  stay  at  home  and  not  go  roaming  about  the  forest,  for  he  was 
young  and  did  not  know  the  world  as  well  as  they  did." 

Again  many  moons  pa.s.sed,  and  then  one  night  the  third  brother 
was  missing.  The  others  knew  he  must  be  dead,  or  he  would  not 
have  failed  to  return  when  night  came.  Now.  three  mats  were 
vacant,  and  the  remaining  brothers  were  almost  heartbroken. 


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

Time  went  on,  and  one  brother  after  another  had  disappeared, 
until  only  two  were  left — the  second  and  the  youngest,  and  there  were 
10  empty  places.  Then  the  elder  said  to  his  younger  brother :  "  You 
must  not  go  out  of  doors.  You  must  stay  close  at  home,  where  no 
harm  can  come  to  you,  for  you  are  all  I  have  to  depend  on  when  I 
grow  old."  "  But,"  said  the  younger,  "  it  maybe  that  our  brothers  are 
still  alive  and  aie  being  kept  captive  and  tormented  by  the  spell  of 
some  magic  power.  I  wish  to  go  in  search  of  them."  ''No;  you  can 
not,"  replied  the  elder;  "a'ou  are  still  young.  But  we  have  a  great 
uncle,  who  knows  everything.  He  is  a  terrible  man ;  no  one  can  go 
near  him.  He  could  bring  our  brothers  back,  if  we  could  get  to  him, 
but  the  trouble  is  he  would  not  know  that  we  are  his  nephews,  so  we 
Would  be  destroyed.  He  is  Dagwanoenyent.  He  lives  on  a  rock. 
His  long  hair  sweeps  the  ground,  so  that  all  around  the  rock  it  is 
as  smooth  as  ice;  and  he  has  enormous  eyes."^**"  "I  must  go  to  see 
this  uncle,"  said  th^younger,  "  and  find  out  where  our  brothers  are." 
"  You  will  travel  the  wide  world  over  and  never  find  them  unless  he 
tells  you,"  came  the  reply. 

"  What  does  he  live  on  ?  "  asked  the  younger.  "  He  gnaws  the  bark 
of  hickory  trees,""  answered  the  elder.  "'  That  is  an  easy  living.  I  will 
get  plenty  of  it."  said  the  younger,  and  having  cut  down  the  largest 
hickory  trees  he  could  find,  he  took  off  gi'eat  blocks  of  bark  for  his 
uncle  to  eat.  Then  he  made  himself  si.x  ai'rows,  each  arrow  being  a 
great  tree.  He  would  lift  the  tree  out  of  the  ground  by  the  roots, 
"  I  want  you  to  be  small,"  and  made  an  arrow  of  it:  the  blunt  end  of 
the  arrow  was  the  butt  n(?ar  the  roots.  The  elder  brother  did  not 
know  that  these  arrows  were  large  trees.  He  was  afraid  to  have  his 
brother  go  and  put  but  little  faith  in  his  success.  "While  the  younger 
brother  was  making  his  arrows  he  practiced  running.  One  day  while 
so  engaged  he  thought  he  heard  a  groan  under  his  feet,  as  it  were, 
and  going  back  and  forth  he  found  the  exact  place  whence  it  seemed 
to  come.  It  was  as  though  he  ran  over  a  man  and  each  time  hiu't  him 
fearfully;  so  digging  down  into  the  ground,  he  found  a  living  man, 
whose  features  wei'e  perfect  but  whose  face  was  covered  with  thick 
mold.  He  took  him  home  to  his  elder  brother,  saying,  "  We  have 
plenty  of  bear"s  oil,  and  you  can  anoint  him  until  he  regains  lijs  nat- 
ural skin."    The  newly  found  man  could  neither  see  nor  hear. 

The  elder  brother  told  the  younger  to  run  toward  the  north.  The 
next  morning  the  latter  started,  having  cautioned  the  elder  to  stay 
in  the  lodge  while  he  was  gone,  as  he  would  bring  his  uncle  home 
with  him.  He  ran  for  several  days  until  he  came  near  the  place 
which  his  brother  had  described.  Possessing  magical  power  over  a 
mole,  he  said  to  it,  "  You  must  carry  me  under  the  ground  so  that 
the  leaves  shall  not  rustle.  When  we  are  very  near  my  uncle, 
Dagwanoenyent,'""  let  me  out,"     Thereupon  he  entered  the  mole, 


S".^;S]  ■  MYTHS  487 

which  ran  on  until  they  were  near  the  Great  Head,  when  lie  looked 
out.  He  was  almost  afraid  to  come  forth,  so  terrible  was  this  enor- 
mous object,  but  he  sprang  out  of  the  mole  with  his  arrow  drawn, 
crying  as  he  did  so,  "  Uncle.  1  have  come  after  3'ou  !  "  Away  sped  the 
arrow !  As  it  whizzed  through  the  air  it  grew  to  the  size  of  a  large 
tree.  When  it  hit  the  Great  Head  above  the  eyes,  \\jth  a  loud  laugh 
the  latter,  rolling  otF  the  rocks,  swe])t  along  in  the  air.  making  a  broad 
track  of  fallen  trees  as  it  passed  through  the  forest  like  an  immense 
cloud.  The  young  man  kept  ahead  by  running  with  lightning  speed. 
As  the  Great  Head  was  nearly  on  him,  he  turned  and  sliot  another 
arrow,  which  drove  it  back  some  distance,  and  again  he  got  ahead. 
This  act  he  repeated  whenever  he  was  in  dangei'  of  being  overtaken, 
otherwise  he  would  have  been  killed  by  the  big  trees  that  fell  in  the 
track  of  the  Great  Head.  So  on  he  ran  for  his  life,  and  as  his  last 
arrow  was  spent,  he  reached  home.  PLach  time  the  rebound  of  the 
Great  Head  decreased,  so  it  gained  on  him  continually. 

While  the  pursued  and  the  pursuer  were  still  a  long  way  olT.  the 
elder  brothei'  began  to  hear  a  frightful  i-oai'  and  to  feel  a  great  wind 
ri-sing.  Thereupon,  saying.  "  My  uncle  is  coming,"'  he  opened  the 
skin  doors  (there  was  one  at  each  end  of  the  lodge)  and  put  great 
pounders  on  tiiem.  and  made  a  big  fire.  AVhen  the  younger  brother 
roached  the  lodge  he  took  up  the  pounder,  and  as  the  Great  Head 
came  down  to  the  threshold  and  rolled  in,  both  brothers  began 
pounding  it  and  kept  on  doing  .so  until  it  rolled  almost  to  the  end 
of  the  lodge  and  became  silent.  At  this  the  young  man  said:  "I 
brought  you  here,  uncle;  now.  you  must  stay  with  us  and  tell  us 
where  our  brothers  are."  "  I  can  not  stay."  replied  the  Head,  '"but  I 
will  help  you,  and  your  brothers  will  come  back." 

By  this  time  the  elder  brother,  having  rubbed  nearly  ail  tlic  mold 
from  the  man's  face,  found  he  was  his  brother.  The  (ireat  Head 
blew  on  the  body,  whereupon  the  man  became  well  and  sound  again. 
Xow  there  were  three  brothers.  At  night  the  (ireat  Head  would  re- 
main outside  the  lodge,  gnawing  the  hickory  bark  provided  for  it. 
After  a  time  it  said,  "  I  can  not  remain  and  must  be  going  home,  but 
I  will  take  you  to  the  spot  where  your  brothers  are";  so  they  started 
olf  together.  The  Great  Head  would  make  long  leaps.  s{)ringing  hi<rh 
from  the  ground.  It  conducted  the  young  man  to  the  woman  on  the 
rock.  As  they  passed  the  first  woman  the  Great  Head  said.  "Wo 
shall  have  to  kill  tiiis  woman."  .She  tried  to  make  the  (ireat  Head 
laugh,  but  it  would  not.  saying,  ''  (_)h,  woman  !  Come  down  and  be 
bones."  Enraged  at  these  words,  she  tried  to  spit  at  the  Great  Head, 
which  repeated  the  woi-ds.  The  third  time,  both  women  rolled  off. 
and  as  they  fell  their  bones  made  a  noise  like  the  pouring  out  of  many 
shelLs.  and  the  Great  Head  said,  "  Scatter  the  bones."  So  the  young 
man.  gathering  them  up  by  haudfuls.  threw  them  in  every  direction, 


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

commanding  them  to  become  such  and  such  birds;  and  thej'  became 
birds — horned  owls,  hawks,  crows,  and  woodpeckers — which  dis- 
appeared in  the  air.  "  Now,"  said  the  Great  Head,  "  you  must  work 
hard.  Fit  all  these  other  bones  together  nicely,  giving  tp  each  body  its 
own  bones  by  putting  together  as  many  bodies  as  you  can.  While  you 
are  doing  this,  I  will  go  off  a  long  distance  and  then  come  back 
straight  over  this  forest.  When  I  approach  you  will  hear  the  roar 
of  the  wind,  and  thereupon  you  must  cry  out  to  these  bones,  'Arise, 
or  the  trees  will  fall  on  you.'  They  will  obey  you.  I  will  pass  over 
them  and  go  to  my  home;  if  you  want  me  again,  you  may  come  for 
me."  The  young  man  went  to  work  with  great  haste  and  laid  together 
many  skeletons.  Nearly  all  the  bones  were  arranged  when  he  heard 
the  deep  roar  of  the  wind  and  knew  thereby  the  Great  Head  was 
coming.  Then  he  called  out,  "Arise,  you  bones,  or  the  trees  will  fall 
on  you,"  ^"'^  and  as  the  Great  Head  swept  with  an  awful  noise  over  the 
skeletons,  all  sprang  to  their  feet.  The  bones  of  two  skeletons  were 
interchanged.  One  who  from  the  shape  of  his  foot  had  gone  by 
the  name  of  Sharp-pointed  Moccasins  had  but  one  of  his  own  feet, 
while  the  second  man  had  the  other,  so  both  were  cripples.  One  of 
these  men  had  been  enticed  from  a  great  distance ;  he  w'as  a  man-eater 
and  wished  to  commence  a  meal  at  once,  but  the  young  man  killed 
him  with  a  single  blow  of  his  club.  Among  those  now  restored  to 
life  were  the  nine  missing  brothers.  Each  man  found  whatever  he 
had  brought  with  him  and  all  separated;  those  who  did  not  know 
where  their  homes  were  went  with  the  brothers.  Thus,  again,  after 
many  years  the  12  brothers  were  united. 

106.    Ongwe   Ias^""   and   His    Brother,    Dagwanoentent 

There  was  a  man  who  had  three  nephews,  and  all  lived  in  a  lodge 
which  was  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  partition.  The  old  man  lived 
in  one  part  and  the  young  men  in  the  other.  There  was  no  door  be- 
tween the  two  rooms;  they  could  talk  only  through  the  partition. 
The  old  man,  however,  was  an  Ongwe  las;  he  was  a  brother  of  the 
Dagwanoenyent  who  chased  the  panther  and  her  cubs. 

When  tlie  old  man  went  hunting  he  always  started  on  a  run,  and 
one  could  hear  the  sound  of  his  going.  The  young  men  used  to  go 
hunting,  too.  Whenever  the  old  man  came  home  they  could  hear 
him  throw  down  a  person's  body  and  cut  it  up;  then  they  could  hear 
him  eating.  Afterward  he  would  ask  the  boys  whether  they  had  all 
returned  from  hunting,  whereupon  they  would  say,  "  Yes." 

One  morning  after  the  old  man  had  gone  off  the  youngest  of  the 
three  started  by  himself.  At  a  short  distance  from  the  lodge  lay  a 
big  tree,  over  which  moss  had  grown  everywhere.  When  he  put  his 
knee  on  this  tree  to  get  over  it  he  saw  a  man  who  had  grown  to  the 


f,^lH;r,N.j  MVTUS  489 

tree.  The  man  said:  "I  am  ylad  you  have  come;  I  am  toniifiited 
here.  I  tliink  you  would  better  take  me  to  your  lodge.  1  will  l)e  a 
brother  to  you  and  .stay  with  you  as  long  as  you  live."  "  I  do  not 
think  this  would  be  well,"  replied  the  young  nuan,  "for  our  uncle  is 
a  nuin-eater:  but  I  will  go  home  and  talk  w^ith  my  two  brothers,  and 
tomorrow  1  will  let  you  know  our  decision."  That  night  when  the 
old  man  got  home  he  asked  whether  all  had  gotten  back.  "  Yes," 
they  answered.  Then  the  youngest  said  to  his  uncle:  "We  have 
found  a  man  who  wants  to  come  here  to  be  our  brother  and  live  with 
us.  You  mu.st  not  touch  him."  The  old  man  agreed  not  to  injure 
him,  saying.  "I  will  give  him  a  name;  he  shall  be  called  The-Found- 
One."""  They  brought  the  man  in.  When  he  had  recovered  his 
health  he  was  a  swifter  ruiniei-  than  the  old  man-eater. 

One  morning  all  started  oil'  to  hunt,  the  three  brothers  and  Tlie- 
Found-()ne.  In  the  afternoon  the  old  man  came  back  home  and 
stayed  in  his  part  of  the  lodge.  At  night  he  asked.  "Are  you  all 
here  r'  One  answered.  ''No;  our  eldest  bi-other  has  not  come."  'Jhe 
old  man  was  astonished,  and  t"ld  the  second  brother  that  he  must 
start  early  the  next  nu)i-ning  and  follow  his  brother's  tracks. 

In  the  morning  the  second  brother  started  on  the  riui  to  look  for 
his  elder  brother.  Alter  a  while  he  came  to  a  clearing,  in  the  middle 
of  which  sat  an  oUl  woman;  his  brother's  ti'acks  went  straight  toward 
her.  He  made  up  his  minil  to  iiKiuii'e  of  the  woman  about  him.  (io- 
ing  straight  up  to  her,  he  asked,  but  she  gave  no  answer.  Then  she 
struck  him  and  straightway  he  turned  into  bone.s.  Xow,  two  of  the 
brothers  were  gone.  \Mien  night  came  and  the  uncle  reached  h<ime, 
he  asked  the  lone  brother  whether  all  had  returned.  The  youngest 
said,  '"No,"'  whereupon  the  uncle  said,  "You  must  follow  them  and 
see  what  has  happened." 

So  the  youngest  went  out  the  next  moi-ning,  and  soon  reached  the 
opening  oi-  clearing,  where  he  saw  the  gray-haired  woman.  It  came 
into  his  mind  that  she  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble;  so  taking  a 
start  he  ran  and  then  jumped  on  her  back,  asking  "Have  you  seen 
my  brothel's?  "  Having  said  this,  he  jumped  otf.  After  trying  in 
every  way  to  hit  him.  at  last  the  woman  just  touched  him  and  there- 
upon the  thi'ce  brothers  were  gone;  he.  too,  then  becoming  merely 
bones,  like  the  other  two. 

At  night  when  tlic  nM  uncle  rctunicd  lie  asked  the  foiutli  person, 
The-Found-Onc.  "  lla\e  your  brothers  come  back?"  "No,"  was  the 
answer.  At  this  the  old  man,  astonished,  said,  "When  you  rise  in  the 
mornir.g  get  crotched  sticks  and  make  a  platform  on  them:  put  as 
many  stones  as  po.ssible  on  the  platfoiin,  and  then  start  in  search  of 
your  uncle,  ^'ou  can  not  hel])  liuding  him.  AVhen  you  see  him  you 
must  shoot  him  in  the  forehead;  then  he  will  follow  in  the  direction 


490  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  Ieth.  ANN.  32 

from  which  tlie  arrow  comes."  The  next  morning,  having  made  a 
platform,  the  man  put  on  it  as  many  big  stones  as  possible.  After 
doing  this,  he  started  in  the  direction  the  old  man  had  pointed  out. 
During  the  forenoon  he  heaitl  a  big  noise,  and  when  he  came  out  into 
a  broad  opening,  or  clearing,  he  saw  his  uncle,  Dagwanoenyent,  on 
a  great  rock  whicii  he  was  eating,  biting  off  large  pieces.  On  seeing 
him,  The-Found-One  shot  an  arrow  at  his  forehead,  saying  at  the 
same  time,  "  I  have  come  for  you,  uncle."'  His  uncle,  the  Great  Head, 
followed  him.  and  he  shot  another  arrow.  The  Great  Head  always 
followed  the  course  of  the  ai-row.  After  shooting  twice  The-Found- 
One  was  back  at  the  lodge,  where  he  called  to  the  old  man-eater, 
"  Uncle,  I  have  come." 

Very  soon  they  heard  the  noise  of  a  great  wind,  and  Dagwanoen- 
yent came,  and  standing  on  the  platform,  began  to  eat  stones;  *"'  the 
sound  of  his  craunching  could  be  heard  a  long  way.  The  man-eater 
spoke  to  his  brother  Dagwanoenyent,  saying:  ''I  sent  after  you,  and 
you  have  come.  The  three  brothers  have  gone  and  iiave  not  come 
back.  Now  I  am  going  for  them,  and  if  I  do  not  return,  you  will 
come  after  me."  The  next  morning  The-Found-One  was  alone. 
Dagwanoenyent  came,  and  standing  on  the  platform,  ate  a  stone,  and 
called  out,  "Have  they  returned^"     "  Xo,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  I  am  going  after  my  brother;  he  ought  not  to  eat  men,  if 
he  too  gets  lost."  With  these  words,  Dagwanoenyent  flew  up'  high 
in  the  air.  The  old  woman  knew  he  was  coming,  so  shading  her 
eyes  with  her  hand,  she  kept  watch;  presently  she  saw  him  ap- 
pi'oaching.  Flying  down  where  she  was,  he  bit  at  her,  but  she  had 
disappeared;  then  he  bit  gravel.  On  flying  up  he  could  see  nothing. 
At  last  lie  hid  behind  a  cloud  and  watched  until  he  saw  her;  there- 
upon, plunging  down,  he  bit  deep  into  the  ground,  this  time  killing 
the  old  wonuin  and  letting  out  her  blood.  Then  he  said  to  him- 
self, "My  brother  should  not  eat  people,  if  he  is  such  a  coward  that 
he  can  not  kill  an  old  woman." 

Dagwanoenyent  had  to  bring  to  life  his  three  nephews  and  his 
brother.  The-Found-One  came  to  the  place  where  the  old  woman 
was  killed,  and  Dagwanoenyent  told  him  to  put  the  bones  together, 
and  then  to  go  to  a  big  hickory  tree  near  by  and  push  against  it,  call- 
ing out,  "  Rise  I  j'ou  people,  lest  the  tree  fall  on  you."  Having  put 
together  the  bones  as  directed,  he  pushed  against  the  tree,  at  the  same 
time  calling,  "  Rise !  lest  the  tree  fall  on  you."  At  once  all  came  to 
life,  whereupon  the  man-eater  said,  "  I  give  up ;  I  will  never  eat  man 
again."  All  went  home  together,  and  are  said  to  be  living  in  some 
parts  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  now.    Dagwanoenyent  is  living  still. 


Z'!i^lfi\  MEDICAL    NOTE  491 

.MKIHCAL  NOTE 

III".     XlllKS     (IN     THK     Mr.DH  INK     N  I  Iv  A  1 1  NKOAAII  " '"'- 

Soloiiuiii  O'Bail,  an  aged  Seneca.  li\iiiir  on  the  Cattaraugus  Reser- 
vation, in  1S84  had  about  a  tablespoon fiil  of  the  (Ireat  Bird-medicine 
in  the  form  of  powder. 

Only  a  minute  ])ortioii  of  ilns  ineilicine.  nii.Ned  with  water,  was 
needed.  In  putting  tiie  small  ]ioriion  of  the  powder  into  the  cup  of 
v.ater  O'Bail  sprinkletl  a  little  on  the  east  side  of  the  cup,  another 
portion  on  the  west  side,  and  still  another  on  the  side  neare.st  to  the 
lips  of  the  patieid.  If  all  the  ])i)wder  remained  on  the  surface  of  the 
water  instead  of  mi.xing  with  it.  the  indication  was  that  the  jiatient 
nni.st  die:  but  if  the  i)owder  dissolved  completely  in  the  water,  this 
was  taUen  as  a  sign  that  the  patient  woidd  live.  When  the  p<iwder 
would  not  mix  with  the  water  the  latter  became  of  the  con.sistency 
of  sirup:  but  if  it  mixed,  the  water  remained  clear.  AA'hen  the  medi- 
cine would  not  dissolve  in  the  water  the  hochinagen '"'  knew  that 
there  was  no  help  for  the  patient  and  would  not  give  the  medicine 
to  him;  but  in  case  the  powder  dis.solved  in  the  water,  the  solution 
was  given  to  the  sick  man  to  drink. 

About  ^0  men  on  the  Cattaraugus  Reservation  still  had.  in  1884.  a 
small  ])ortion  of  this  medicine.  This  medicine  is  the  same  as  that 
which  the  birds  made  when  they  brought  Bloody  Hand  to  life.  It 
is  so  powerfid  in  orenda.  or  magic  potency,  that  when  it  was  gi\en  to 
the  sick  by  the  hochinagen  the  i)atient  was  forbidden  to  eat  anything 
that  was  colored;  he  could  eat.  however,  puie  white  beans  and  pure 
white  cob  corn.  If  anythiiiL'  black  m-  in  any  manner  colored  was 
eaten,  the  taboo  was  broken,  and  the  num  or  woman  woidd  die,  as 
the  medicine's  \  irtue  was  thus  destroyed. 

If  another  man  came  into  the  patient's  j)resenee  after  having 
stopped  to  see  a  corpse  on  the  way.  and  looked  at  the  jiatient,  the 
sick  person  would  immediately  grow  wor>e  and  would  die  shortly 
thereafter.  For  this  reason  it  was  customai'v  to  hang  up  .a  skin  or 
a  blaidvet  so  that  the  patient  shoidd  not  by  any  chance  see  such  a 
person. 

It  is  said  that  in(>dicine  similar  to  this  ancient  bird  medicine  could 
be  made,  but  no  one  knows  how  to  make  corn  grow  without  seed 
corn. 

When  this  \ikahnegaah  was  taken,  the  smell  of  burning  or  broil- 
ing meat  had  a  bad  ell'ect  on  its  virtues.  During  her  catamenial 
periods  a  woman  was  not  permitted  to  look  at  a  person  who  had 
taken  this  medicine:  if  she  did  so  he  woid<l  sui-ely  die.  Hence  it  was 
a  .standing  rule  that  a  patient  who  had  taken  this  medicine  should 

"  SmaUdosc  medicine. 


492  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ans.  32 

not  be  seen  by  any  one  for  four  days  except  the  person  who  was 
caring  for  him. 

When  a  person  who  was  ill  desired  to  try  this  medicine,  he  or 
some  friend  was  required  to  give  a  handful  of  native  tobacco  and 
some  other  small  present  to  the  person  who  had  the  medicine.  The 
hochinagen  could  do  what  he  pleased  with  the  presents.  The  hochin- 
agen  would  cast  into  the  fire  a  piece  of  the  tobacco,  at  the  same  time 
sajnng  to  the  medicine,  which  he  then  held  in  his  hand.  ''  Take  a 
smell  of  this  tobacco,  for  I  am  about  to  make  use  of  you."  Then 
he  would  visit  the  sick  man,  and  taking  a  small  vessel  he  would 
go  to  a  running  stream,  and  after  making  an  otfering  of  tobacco  to 
it  in  the  name  of  the  patient,  he  would  dip  up  the  water  with  the 
current,  not  against  it.  He  took  what  water  he  could  dip  up  in 
this  manner. 

If  the  sick  man  was  not  very  ill,  this  one  dose  would  cure  him; 
but  if  he  was  very  ill  other  hochinagen  who  have  this  same  kind  of 
medicine  must  come  to  assist  in  the  cure.  They  must  cook  a  kettle 
of  white  beans  for  themselves  and  the  singers  who  come  to  sing  that 
night;  they  would  also  give  strength  to  the  medicine  by  the  burning 
of  tobacco  as  directed  by  the  birds. 

The  first  sentence  of  the  song  is  "  Now,  this  is  the  medicine  to  be 
taken.''  When  the  medicine  is  swallowed  the  words  are,  "  Now, 
let  it  begin  to  work  over  all  his  body." 

If  the  patient  recovered  his  health  he  must  celebrate  the  event  by 
preparing  a  feast,  the  chief  dish  of  which  must  be  a  great  kettle  of 
hulled  corn  seasoned  with  meat  or  venison  cut  into  small  pieces. 

The  hochinagen  who  gave  him  the  medicine  must  come  to  sing  and 
dance  in  honor  of  the  medicine  through  whose  aid  they  were  enabled 
to  cure  the  patient.  Some  of  the  sentences  employed  in  the  songs 
are:  "The  spirits  have  come  and  they  have  cured  the  ill  ])erson"; 
"We  now  dismiss  them  with  thanksgiving";  and  then  they  sing 
the  songs  employed  when  preparing  the  medicine,  of  which  some  of 
the  sentences  are:  "I  have  been  to  the  place  of  the  plant";  "I 
have  been  to  the  mountain";  "I  have  been  at  the  falls";  "I  have 
been  beyond  the  clouds  " ;  etc.  After  recess  they  use :  "  Now  we  have 
assembled  where  the  tobacco  is " ;  "  Now  they  meet  together,  say 
the  ducks";  "Now  the  deer  with  two  prongs  say.  "We  have  assem- 
bled,'" and  similar  lines.     Only  hochinagen  may  sing  at  this  feast. 


SENECA  FICTION,  LEGENDS,  AND  MYTHS 

Vint  2 


Seneca  material  collected  by  J.  N.  B.  IIICW  ITT  in  native  text,  in  1896, 

on  Cattaraugus  Heservation,  New  York,  and  translated  by 

him,  with  two  texts  witli  interlinear  translations 


493 


SENE(-\  FICTION,  LEGENDS,  AND  MYTHS 


108.   TjU';   Legend  ok   IIayanowi;    ("  IIe-thf.-Ki.eet-i'ooted") 

( )iicf  tlu'iv  dwelt  topt'thcr  in  a  loilirc  in  a  villaizo  two  lirotlici's. 
Tlie  tinii'  of  tlie  .storv  is  aiitninii. 

It  so  happened  that  the  elder  lirother  said  to  the  youn<j;er.  "  Now, 
let  us  go  to  the  forest  to  hunt  deer."  The  younger  an.swered,  "  So  be 
it.  We  will  take  our  blowguns.'  But  the  elder  said:  '"As  for  me.  I 
will  not  take  a  blowgun.  1  will  nialce  use  of  a  tomahawk  and  a  knife, 
foi-  Ihe  I'eason  that  I  am  very  lleet-footed.""  The  younger  brother 
rejoined,  "Let  it  be  .so.  I  am  satisfied  with  what  yoU  suggest,"  add- 
ing, "Come,  now!  let  us  start  for  the  forest." 

So  they  started  for  tlieii-  destination  in  a  distant  forest.  They 
encamped  on  the  way  thret'  nights  befoie  they  reaehe(l  the  I'eiide/.vous 
where  they  knew  game  animals  abounded.  Then  they  erected  at  once 
a  temp(jrary  shelter  for  their  camp. 

In  the  nu  rning  the  elder  said.  "  Now,  early  in  the  day  we  must  go 
out  to  do  our  hunting."  Hut  the  younger  brcthei'  replied.  "  You  must 
follow  me  ai'ound  in  the  forest,  and  then  you  will  ^ee  how  fleet  T  am 
on  tlu'  cour.'-e."  Then  the  two  started  out  from  their  camp  to  hunt. 
(\irrying  only  a  tomahawk  and  a  hunting  knife,  the  younger  brother 
took  the  lead,  while  the  eldei-  brothei-  followed  him.  as  i-ecpiested. 
Just  before  starting  from  their  lodge  the  youngei'  brother  said  to  the 
elder:  *' Do  not  take  a  blowgun  with  you.  for  just  as  soon  as  I  kill 
anything  you  must  bring  it  back  to  our  camp." 

Ilaxing  gone  into  the  forest  some  distance,  they  finally  saw  a  large 
herd  of  deei-,  which  at  once  fled  from  them.  wh(>reui)on,  then,  the 
younger  brother  said:  'MMu'iiexci-  I  kill  one  I  will  call  out  in  a  loud 
voice,  \i)n,  '«/«.■'  So  saying,  with  loud  shouts  he  purMied  the  deer 
into  the  forest,  and  by  the  time  the  sun  marked  midday  he  had  over- 
taken and  killed  si.\  deer,  on  account  cd'  his  great  Heetne.ss  of  foot. 
Tiien  the  two  brothers  rested  from  hunting  for  the  day. 

"When  they  had  retired  to  tlu'ir  camp,  tlie  elder,  addressing  his 
younger  brother,  said,  "Do  not  ever  say  that  you  are  Heet  of  foot, 
because  that  quality  is  an  essential  of  your  character."'  But  the  hot- 
headed  younger   brother    answered,   '"  I    am    fleet-footed,    anyway." 

40.'') 


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

At  this  the  elder  brother  scolded  him,  saying,  "Do  not  ever  say  that 
again,  because  something  sinister  will  happen  to  us  owing  to  that." 
But  the  younger,  heedless  of  the  advice,  rejoined :  "  Let  it  be  so  then. 
I  shall  match  myself,  however,  with  anything,  be  it  an  animal  or  a 
human  being;  it  matters  not  what  it  may  be." 

When  night  came  they  lay  down  to  sleep.  In  the  morning,  after 
their  morning  meal,  the  two  again  went  forth  to  hunt.  After  a  long 
tramp  they  reached  a  place  in  which  they  saw  many  deer.  At  once 
the  younger  brother  began  to  shout  loudly  in  order  to  frighten  the 
deer,  so  that  they  would  run  away  from  him,  and  he  would  have  the 
opportunity  of  overtaking  them.  Hearing  his  outcries,  the  deer  fled 
from  him,  and  the  youth  pursued  them.  By  midday  he  had  over- 
taken and  killed  six  deer. 

As  he  was  returning  to  his  camp,  he  was  surprised  to  hear  the 
voice  of  a  man  speaking  to  him,  saying,  "  Verily,  is  it  not  you  who  are 
fleet  of  foot  and  swift  on  the  course?"  Looking  around,  the  now 
frightened  youth  saw  at  one  side  an  opening — a  roadway,  as  it  were, 
through  the  forest — and  standing  in  this  roadway  at  some  distance 
he  saw  a  man,  or  what  he  took  to  be  a  man,  gazing  at  him.  Boast- 
ingly  the  youth  replied,  "  It  is  certainly  true  that  I  am  fleet-footed." 
Then  the  strange  man.  or  what  the  youth  took  to  be  a  man,  said : 
"  I  will  run  a  race  with  you.  You  keep  saying  at  all  times  and 
places  that  there  is  no  one  able  to  outfoot  you,  so  let  us  make  an 
agreement  to  run  a  race  with  certain  conditions  tomorrow.  At  mid- 
da}'  we  shall  meet  here  in  this  place;  right  here.  And  we  will  agree 
to  wager  our  lives  on  the  issue  of  the  race.  One  of  the  conditions  of 
the  race  must  be  that  I  shall  follow  you  for  two  days.  When  we 
start  let  us  be  as  far  apart  as  we  are  now — the  distance  from  the 
spot  where  you  are  standing  to  this  place  where  I  .stand.  You  shall 
choose  the  direction  that  we  shall  take  in  the  race,  whether  we  shall 
camp  for  the  night,  or  not.  When  you  decide  that  we  shall  camp 
for  the  night,  you  must  say,  'We  will  camj)  for  the  night'  ;  and 
where  you  stop  you  shall  make  a  mark  from  which  you  shall  start  in 
the  morning,  and  then  you  can  go  aside  to  camp  for  the  night.  And 
there  you  may  kindle  a  fire  and  prepare  any  food  that  you  maj'  have 
with  you  (said  sneeringly)." 

Then  the  youth  who  was  swift  of  foot  answered:  "  I  agree  to  your 
proposition,  and  if  at  the  end  of  two  days  you  do  not  overtake  me, 
then  T  shall  pursue  you." 

Then  the  strange  man  rejoined,  "  We  have  now  come  to  an  agree- 
ment on  this  matter,  and  you  must  tell  your  elder  brother  of  it."  The 
fleet-footed  youth  replied,  "Let  it  be  so;  I  will  tell  it  to  my  elder 
brother."  Thereupon  the  strange  man  admonished  the  youth,  saying, 
"  You  must  not  fail  in  the  least  to  be  here  just  at  midday  tomorrow, 
and  we  shall  stand  here  again."    Then  the  youth,  answering,  said, "  So 


hk'wS]  legends  497 

let  it  be."  and  he  started  I'oi'  tlie  place  where  stdod  the  temporarv 
camp  of  his  elder  brother  and  hini.sell'. 

AVhen  he  aiTived  there  he  found  his  ifiother  at  home.  As  soon  as 
nis  elder  brothei-  loolied  at  him  he  said.  "  ^'oii  look  very  dejected: 
possibly  you  are  ill."'  The  younger  bi'olhei-  said  :  "  I  am  not  at  all  ill. 
I'erliaps  the  reason  why  I  am  lookinji  as  I  do  is  that  I  saw  a  strange 
lUMii.  who  said  to  me.  '.Vre  yon  the  ]1(M's()ii  who  keeps  on  saying  "I 
am  swift  of  foot ;"  "  I  teidied  that  1  am  the  person.  Thereupon  the 
stranger  said,  "I  will  lun  you  a  race  just  to  test  your  woi-ds.  So  to- 
morrow when  the  sini  will  be  at  midday  here  in  this  \ery  ]>lace  you 
and  I  must  again  stand,  and  from  this  jilace  ymi  and  I  nuist  start." 
Moreover,  lie  told  me  that  1  iiui-t  inform  you.  my  eUler  lii'other.  So 
1  have  now  informed  you."  .\ii(|  he  continner]  to  sit  with  his  head 
bowed  a.s  if  in  deep  trouble. 

Then  the  elder  brother  said:  "Oh  !  my  younger  brother,  you  and  I 
ai'e  l)idthei's.  and  we  ai"e  about  to  die  because  of  your  tloing  that 
which  I  ba\e  frequently  forl>idden  you  doing,  namely,  your  continu- 
ally saying,  "  I  am  fleet-footed."  1  kei)t  saying  to  you  that  your  talk- 
ing thus  would  iiring  us  misfortim<>.  Now  that  form  of  talking  has 
this  iImn'  sexcred  our  minds  one  I'roiu  the  othei'.""  Thereupon  the 
cliler  brother  began  to  sIumI  tears  of  bitter  grief,  saying  between 
jiaroxysms  of  weeping:  "Perhaps  that  thing  with  which  you  have 
made  an  agrccineiu  to  run  a  foot  race  w  iili  your  life  as  a  wager  i>  not 
at  all  a  human  being.  \'erily.  no  one  knows  n(  what  alioniinalile  s]ie 
cies  of  monsters  it  comes." 

Seemingly  undisnuiye(l.  the  younger  bidther  rejdied.  "Oh  I  my 
elder'brothei'.  now  yon  nnist  make  me  two  pairs  of  moccasins,  and  I 
shall  take  with  me  also  two  ears  of  parched  corn,  which  I  shall  place 
in  my  bosom."'  So  the  elder  brother  sat  up  the  entii-e  night  to  make 
the  two  pairs  of  moccasins  which  hi>  younger  brotlier  re(|uir(>d  in  his 
race  on  the  morrow. 

In  the  mf)rning  the  two  brothers  con\ersed  together.  The  elder 
said  :  "  When  you  start  away  ]  shall  go  to  iiotify  our  friends  in  their 
encampment :  for  iierhajis  the  person  with  whoui  you  are  to  run  a 
foot  race  is  not  a  lunnan  b(>ing.  Perhaps,  too.  you  are  about  to  die.  so 
vou  and  I  may  lu>  now  talking  together  for  the  last  time.""  Then 
they  parted  there. 

Tin' younger  brother  went  to  the  place  where  he  had  agi'eed  to  i)e  at 
midday  for  (he  beginning  of  the  two  <l;>.ys'  foot  race.  Tn  due  time  he 
arri\ed  at  the  spot,  and  he  was  surprised  to  see  standing  there  the 
strange  man  who  had  challenged  him  to  the  race,  and  who  now  ad- 
dres.sing  him  said.  "  Now.  tiady,  yon  have  arrived  on  time."  In  reply 
ITavanowe  ("  TTe-the-I'"le(>t-foi)te(l "'')  said.  "  I  have  ari'ived  all  right, 
and    1    am    ready    for    the    race.""      'J"o   this    the    sti'anger    answered. 


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

"  Come,  now,  which  way  shall  we  go?"  The  youth  then  said,  "  So  let 
it  be.  We  will  go  toward  the  east — toward  the  sunrise."  The  strange 
man  replied,  "Come  on  then.  Get  ready;  and  when  you  are  ready 
you  must  say, '  Come  now ;  I  am  ready.' " 

In  a  short  time  the  youth  said,  "  Come  on  now ;  I  am  ready."  Then 
the  two  started  on  a  run.  Tiie  youth  Hayanowe  struck  a  steady  gait. 
When  the  sun  was  at  the  meridian,  and  again  when  it  was  midway 
between  noon  and  sunset,  the  strange  man  urged  his  youthful  com- 
petitor, saying,  "  Exert  yourself,  my  friend."  These  admonitions 
caused  the  youth  some  perturbations  of  spirit ;  he  even  feared  for  his 
life;  so  he  put  forth  his  topmost  speed  and  ran  swiftly  until  nearly 
sunset,  when  the  standing  trees  gave  out  loud  sounds,  which  seemed  to 
come  as  the  result  of  a  force  which  struck  them  hard.  Thereupon  the 
youth  heard  the  strange  man  shout  to  him,  "  Exert  yourself,  my 
friend ;  I  will  overtake  you  indeed." 

Then  it  became  night,  and  the  youth,  remembering  one  of  the 
provisions  of  his  agreement  with  the  stranger,  although  he  some- 
what doubted  the  stranger's  sincerity  in  making  it,  said  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  Let  us  two  camp  for  the  night,  as  we  have  agreed  to  do." 
The  stranger  replied,  "  So  be  it.  Have  you  marked  the  end  of  your 
run  for  the  day,  too?"  The  youth  answered.  "I  have  marked  it, 
indeed."  To  this  the  stranger  rejoined,  "  So  be  it.  You  may  eat 
your  food  now,  and  so  will  I.  You  also  must  kindle  a  fire  if  you 
need  it."  So  the  youtii  kindled  a  fire,  and  so  the  strange  man  did 
likewise.  The  youth  could  plainly  see  the  fire  of  the  stranger,  for 
it  was  not  far  away  at  all,  indicating  that  his  opponent  was  close 
at  his  heels  in  the  race.  He  then  took  out  his  parched  corn  and  ate 
it,  after  warming  it  at  the  fire.  Hayanowe  was  ill  at  ease,  for  he 
fully  realized  that  he  had  unexpectedly  met  his  match,  perhaps  more 
than  his  match.  AMiile  he  was  eating  his  parched  corn  the  strange 
man  said  to  him,  "  In  the  morning,  just  as  soon  as  you  are  ready  to 
take  up  the  race  again,  you  must  say  aloud,  '  I  have  now  taken  my 
stand  on  the  scratch."  The  youth,  answering  him,  said,  "  Let  it 
be  as  you  say."  But  he  could  not  sleep  during  the  entire  night.  He 
spent  the  time  in  devising  some  plan  by  which  he  might  win  the 
race  from  the  unknown  stranger,  whether  man  or  beast.  He  thought 
of  many  things,  finally  deciding  that  he  would  choose  deep  thickets 
as  the  course  of  the  race,  to  see  whether  they  would  not  retard  the 
fleetness  of  his  antagonist. 

The  next  morning  very  early  he  made  his  usual  preparations  and 
then  went  to  the  scratch.  Standing  there,  he  shouted  to  his  antag- 
onist, "I  am  now  ready."  The  stranger  answered,  "So  be  it.  And 
you  must  also  say  as  you  start,  'Come  now.' "  The  young  man,  giv- 
ing the  required  verbal  notice  of  his  start,  leaped  forward  with  a 
bound,  as  did  his  antagonist  and  challenger. 


CPKTIN-I  LEGENDS  499 

The  youth  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost,  indeed.  runnin<r  at  his 
topmost  speed.  Kiuall.v  lie  ca'nie  to  a  dense  thicket,  wiucli  was 
large  in  extent,  whidi  he  entered  at  once.  Stopping  for  a  moment, 
he  listened  intently  for  sounds  made  by  his  pursuer.  It  was  not 
long  before  he  heard  the  sounds  in  the  distance  made  by  the  stranger 
as  he,  too,  entered  the  thicket.  The  crackling  of  sticks  and  boughs 
sounded  to  him  as  if  the  object  ptirsuing  him  po.ssessed  great  weight 
and  strength. 

In  resuming  his  race  for  life,  the  youth  said  in  his  mind:  "So 
now  it  is  again  my  turn  to  flee.  I  shall  go  back  to  the  place  where 
abide  my  kin:*folk  and  my  elder  brother."  He  then  changed  his  course 
from  the  east  to  the  southwest.  Kuuning  at  top  speed,  he  came  to 
a  mountain,  which  he  ascended  and  pas.sed  over.  Then,  not  know- 
ing \\heliiei-  his  chiillenger  was  still  on  his  track,  he  listened  for  any 
sounds  wiiiih  might  indicate  that  he  was  being  pursued.  lie  had 
not  been  staiuling  there  long  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  his  pur- 
suer in  the  distaiu'c  say,  "  Kxert  yourself,  my  friend."  Again  the 
youth  put  forth  all  his  power,  riuining  as  swiftly  as  it  was  possible 
for  him  to  do.  He  was  directing  his  course  for  the  place  where 
abode  his  kinsfolk  and  his  elder  brother,  for  he  ha<l  repas.sed  their 
temjior'ary  camp  in  the  forest,  but  his  brother  had  alreadj'  fled. 
So  he  ke|)t  on  thinking.  "lie  has  gone  iiack  to  the  [)lace  where  dwell 
my  kinsfolk."  Having  airived  there,  he  fouiul  that  they,  too.  had 
left  their  settlement,  because  his  dear  elder  brother  had  informed  them 
of  the  conditions  of  the  foot  race,  whereui)on  they  decided  at  once 
that  their  kinsman's  antagonist  was  not  a  human  being.  They  had 
fled  because  the  elder  brother  had  said:  "  ^^'e  shall  all  die  if  we 
remain  here.  I  really  do  not  know  what  kiiul  of  a  being  it  is  that 
has  challenged  my  younger  brother  to  this  foot  rare.  Come,  then, 
let  us  flee  from  here." 

The  youth,  surmising  where  they  had  gone  in  their  distress,  fol- 
lowed a  course  which  would  take  him  to  their  asylum.  While  he  was 
ruiming  he  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  a  woman  lying  in  his  ])ath. 
Stopping  a  moment,  he  ask-ed.  "  ^Mi;it  is  th(>  matter  with  you?" 
She  replied,  "I  was  ill  wIhu  tiny  decided  t"  flee,  so  they  built  a 
cradle  in  which  to  bear  me  along  with  them.  They  bore  me  along 
in  it.  Finally  T  said.  'Put  me  down  here  in  this  i)lace.  because  I  am 
ill  in  the  inanner  of  all  women.'''"*  I  will  die  here.  Not  having  any 
women  to  bear  me.  I  was  left  by  them  here.  And  yon  mu.st  beware 
for  I  iim  still  ill  in  the  manner  of  all  women,  ami  I  am  very,  very  ill 
thereby." 

The  youth,  answering,  said.  "So  be  it.  Right  here  you  imd  1  are 
about  to  die.  There  is  coming  behiiul  me  an  animal,  and  1  do  not 
know  what  it  is  or  what  it  looks  like.  -Vnd  I  do  not  know  whether 
we  shall  be  aided  bv  what  T  am  abdut  to  suggest."     Then  he  came 


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

forward  from  the  direction  he  had  come  and  corpus  ejus  (mulieris) 
ille  ita  convertit  ut  pedes  ad  animal  appropinquans  spectarent; 
eoque  tempore  cruribus  mulieris  expansis  omnibusque  vestimentis 
ab  ea  sublatis  corpus  ejus  sanguine  mentruo  opertum  vidit.  Tlien 
He-the-Fleet-footed  said  to  her,  "  Now,  you  must  remain  perfectly 
quiet;  do  not  move  under  any  circumstances."  So  saying,  he  con- 
cealed himself  behind  a  large  tree  near  by,  behind  which  he  awaited 
developments. 

Looking  back  to  the  spot  where  the  woman  lay.  he  heard  the 
sounds,  Woq',  woq'.  iroq',  approaching  nearer  and  nearer  and 
resounding  very  loud.  AVhile  looking  back  to  see  what  was  in  pur- 
suit of  him,  he  saw  at  last  an  animal  following  his  tracks  on  the 
run.  It  was  very  large,  without  a  tail,  and  it  had  no  hair  on  its 
body;  there  were  only  a  few  bristles,  which  stood  along  the  center 
of  its  back. 

It  came  up  to  the  place  where  the  woman  lay  and  it  stopped  there 
[tum  se  gessit  tamquam  si  aliquid  insoliti  odoraretur,  cruoremque 
■circa  corpus  mulieris  concretum  intuitum  est.  Jam  brevi  tempore 
corpus  animalis  tamquam  frigore  tremuit.  iterumcjue  sanguinem 
•odorans]  ;  its  body  again  quivered  violently,  and  the  great  creature 
became  nauseated.  It  vcmited  a  great  quantity'  of  blood,  and  in  a 
short  time  fell  over  dead,  and  its  feet  resounded  on  the  ground. 

The  youth,  who  watched  these  things  from  his  position  behind 
the  great  tree,  now  went  to  the  place  where  the  animal  lay;  when 
he  placed  his  foot  on  the  body  the  entire  carcass  moved  to  and  fro, 
showing  that  the  beast  was  dead.  Then  the  boy  removed  the 
woman  to  a  spot  some  distance  from  the  place  where  she  first  lay, 
saying  to  her  for  her  comfort.  ''  Lie  here  a  while.  I  will  pursue  our 
kinsfolk  to  learn  whither  they  have  gone."  Thereupon  he  started 
on  the  trail  with  great  fleetness  of  foot.  He  had  not  followed  the 
trail  very  far  when  he  overtook  them ;  they  were  in  large  number, 
and  among  them  was  his  elder  brother.  Coming  up  to  them,  he 
said,  '■  You  must  all  turn  back  to  see  what  kind  of  an  animal  it 
was  against  which  I  ran  the  foot  race." 

So  all  the  people  turned  back,  going  directly  to  the  place  where 
they  had  left  the  woman  who  was  ill.  When  they  reached  the  spot 
the  ancients  held  a  council  and,  after  carefully  examining  the 
animal,  said,  "This  is  what  is  called  Ya'gwai'he.^"^  It  is  this  thing 
which  you  overcame  in  the  foot  race,  the  conditions  of  which  have 
now  been  fulfilled.  You  two  wagered  your  heads  on  the  issue  of 
the  trial  of  speed.  So,  then,  we  will  now  kindle  a  huge  fire.  Let 
each  one  bring  a  piece  of  dry  fuel."  So.  going  out  into  the. neighbor- 
ing forest,  each  brought  back  a  piece  of  dry  wood:  with  this  wood 
they  kindled  a  great  fire.  As  soon  as  the  fire  had  become  very 
large  thej'  cast  into  it  the  body  of  this  animal,  and  then  they  threw 


5^'-^^]  LEGKXDS  501 

cirv  wocd  on  the  top  of  tlie  body,  causing  the  fire  to  burn  fiercely- 
Wlieu  tlu'  tire  dictl  down  only  a  few  charred  bones  were  left  of  the 
huge  animal.  Then  the  eldest  man  of  the  assembly  said:  "Let  each 
one  take  a  porti<jn  of  these  bones  and  make  of  it  a  fetish 
{otcimrk!'''''d(V)  for  lumtinfr  some  kind  of  <rame  animal,  which  he 
must  name;  this  feli>h  will  i;i\e  him  the  power  to  kill  easily  tlie 
animal  thus  named."  So  each  of  the  assembly  did  as  tlie  hochiiuijien 
had  ilirected.  One  would  take  up  a  frairment  saying,  "  I  will  em- 
ploy this  for  hunting  the  bear."  .Vnother  woidd  say.  "1  will  make 
use  of  tills  in  lumting  deer."  A  third  person.  "  I  will  em])lov  this 
for  htinting  raccoons."  A  foinlh.  "I  will  use  this  for  hiniting  the 
otter."  A  lifth,  "  I  will  use  this  for  fishing  for  sturgeon."  A  si.xtii 
person.  "  I  will  make  use  of  titis  for  trapping  minks."  A  seventh,  "  I 
will  employ  this  for  hunting  the  raven."  An  eighth,  "  I  will  use  this 
for  hunting  women  (i.  e..  for  winning  the  favors  of  the  womi-n)." 
Lastly,  some  vulgar,  worthless  ])ersons  would  say  that  they  would 
employ  the  bones  for  various  lilthv  functions  of  the  body. 

Then  placing  on  a  pack-cradle  for  carrying  woinuled  persons  the 
woman  who  was  ill.  they  started  for  their  homes,  where  they  arrived 
safe.    This  is  the  end  of  the  story  of  ilayanowe. 

109.  O.Ncwi;'  ]I.\n(;es'"ii.\'  .\ni)  (i.\.misoNnis   (SivIX-oi'-Man  and 
SriKK-HriTKit  ^ '■) 

In  former  times  an  uncle  and  his  nepliew  dwelt  together  in  a 
lodge.  The  name  of  the  old  man  was  Oilgwe  Hailgesha  and  that  of 
his  nephew  (Jajihsondis. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  uncle  when  he  left  to  be'absent  some  time 
to  fasten  his  nephew  securely  in  the  lodge.  lie  was  also  in  the  habit 
of  gi\ing  to  his  nephew  the  foot  of  a  bear,  with  these  instructions: 
"  ^'ou  must  remain  in  here  (jiiietly.  aiul  you  must  continue  to  shoot 
at  the  bear's  foot.  Whenever  you  hit  the  fo<it  you  shall  say  aloud. 
'  (la  jihsondis."  but  if  it  so  hapi)en  that  you  do  not  hit  the  foot,  you 
shall  mt  say  that  name.  So  yoti  must  keep  at  this  business  during 
the  entire  day.  but  whenever  yon  become  hungry  you  must  eat  food 
which  you  kiu)w  is  here  ready  for  you  to  eat.  Just  as  soon  as  you 
have  finished  your  meal,  then  yon  must  again  begin  to  slioot  at  the 
bear's  foot:  you  must  not  stop  in  this  task,  but  must  continue  to 
shoot  at  the  bcai's  foot  without  ceasing." 

So  the  little  nephew  did  as  his  uncle  had  instructed  him  to  do. 
and  whenever  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  hit  the  bear's  foot  he 
would  exclaim  loudly.  '"  AA'agajihsondis !  " 

\t  last  the  nephew  began  to  wonder  what  his  imcle  ate.  for  he- 
had  ne\er  seen  him  eating  anything.     So  (iajihsondis  finally  decided 


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

to  watch  the  old  man  and  to  continue  doing  so  during  tiie  approach- 
ing night,  as  the  young  boy  had  conchided  that  his  uncle  ate  his 
meals  at  night.  The  boy  mused  to  himself,  saying,  "  Tonight  I  will 
watch  my  uncle  during  the  whole  time." 

So  in  the  evening,  when  Gajihsondis  lay  down  for  the  night,  he 
wrapped  himself  up  in  an  old  piece  of  skin;  he  lay  on  one  side  of 
the  fire  and  his  uncle  on  the  other.  There  was  a  rent  in  the  skin 
covering  of  Gajihsondis,  probably  a  hole  which  he  had  made  in  it 
for  the  occasion,  and  through  this  he  peered  as  he  watched  his  uncle. 
This  hole  in  the  skin  was  very,  very  small.  The  boy  did  not  sleep, 
but  kept  a  watch  on  his  uncle  to  learn  on  what  the  latter  fed  to 
sustain  life,  for  they  two  had  never  taken  a  meal  together. 

At  midnight,  possibly  a  little  past  that  time,  the  small  boy.  who 
was  on  the  watch,  was  surprised  to  see  his  uncle  blow  with  great 
force  on  the  fire  in  the  fireplace.*"^  At  once  sparks  shot  up  from  the 
fire,  some  of  which  fell  on  the  boy  as  he  lay  there.  But  the  little 
hero  kept  quite  still,  although  his  uncle,  in  order  to  see  whether  the 
boy  was  awake,  said,  "  Gwe'\  my  nephew,  you  will  burn;  look  out !  " 
But  still  the  boy  kept  still.  Then,  after  the  lapse  of  a  long  time,  the 
uncle  arose  and  while  watching  the  seemingly  sleeping  boy,  drew 
from  beneath  his  couch  a  bark  case,  such  as  was  in  use  in  the  early 
times.  He  took  therefrom  a  small  kettle  and  from  the  kettle  some- 
thing which  the  watching  boy  did  not  recognize.  The  old  man  hung 
the  kettle  over  the  fire,  and  then  he  again  blew  on  the  fire  and  the 
flames  began  to  burn  briskly:  and  he  kept  on  blowing  the  fire  until 
it  had  become  hot  enough  to  cook  a  meal.  He  had  placed  water  in 
the  kettle  when  he  set  it  over  the  fire — just  the  right  amount  for  his 
purpose.  Then  the  old  man  began  to  scrape  some  object  and  per- 
mitted the  scrapings  to  fall  into  the  kettle.  The  old  man  was  acting 
just  as  one  would  have  acted  while  making  chestnut  mush.  All 
the  time  he  was  being  watched  by  his  nephew,  who  was  called 
"  Gajihsondis." 

When  the  mush  was  cooked  the  old  man  removed  the  kettle  from 
the  fire  and  set  it  aside,  and  then  he  took  out  what  he  had  cooked  in 
a  bark  dish  and  began  to  eat.  When  he  had  finished  his  meal,  he 
blew  on  the  kettle  and  it  began  at  once  to  grow  small  in  size;  then, 
blowing  on  it  a  second  time,  the  kettle  became  as  small  as  it  was  at 
first,  which  was  very,  very  small.  When  it  had  rettirned  to  its  nor- 
mal size  the  old  man  wrapped  it  up  in  something  which  the  watching 
nephew  did  not  recognize,  but  before  doing  so  he  placed  in  the  kettle 
the  something  out  of  which  he  had  made  the  mush  which  he  had 
just  eaten.  Then  he  again  drew  out  the  bark  case  from  beneath  his 
couch  and  replaced  therein  the  kettle  and  its  contents.  Having  done 
this,  he  pushed  the  case  back  into  its  hiding  place.  Thereupon  the 
old  man  lay  down  again.    His  nephew  had  observed  him  carefully 


IT^l^]  LEGENDS  503 

in  all  that  he  had  done — this  for  the  first  time  since  thcv  two  had 
lived  togt'thcr,  and  while  the  boy  was  growinfr  np- 

The  mornin":  after  this  episode  the  old  man  made  his  usual  prejia- 
rations  for  going  out  to  hunt,  and  said  to  his  nephew,  "  You  must 
eat  whenever  you  get  hungry.''    He  repeated  this  saying  often. 

Then  the  boy  began  to  sport,  as  he  had  been  instructed  to  do  by 
his  uncle.  Wherever  he  threw  the  bear's  foot  he  would  attempt  to 
hit  it  by  shooting  at  it.  Throwing  it  here,  he  would  shoot  at  it.  and 
throwing  it  there,  he  would  shoot  at  it.  When  he  hit  it  he  would  e.K- 
claim  loudly  "  (xajihsondis,"  as  he  had  been  told  to  do. 

When  it  was  the  usual  time  for  the  uncle  to  return  from  his 
hunting  trip,  the  boy  would  say  to  himself,  "  My  uncle  will  soon  be 
back  now."'  So  one  day  the  youth  said,  "I  believe  I  will  prepare 
food  for  my  uncle  against  the  time  of  his  return."  Going  at  once 
to  his  uncle's  couch,  he  drew  from  under  it  the  bark  case  and  took 
therefrom  the  kettle,  which  was  very  small  in  size,  and  also  an  in- 
significant looking  object  contained  in  the  latter,  which  his  uncle 
had  scraped  down  to  about  one-half  its  original  size. 

Next  the  lad  blew  on  the  kettle  to  increase  its  size,  as  he  had  seen 
his  uncle  do,  and  after  it  had  become  sulliciently  large  he  put 
water  into  it  and  set  it  over  the  fire,  musing  to  himself,  "So  be  it. 
I  will  now  prepare  food  for  my  uncle,  for  he  socm  will  return  very 
hungry.  The  lad  now  blew  on  the  kettle  the  second  time,  whereupon 
it  increased  slightly  only  in  size:  so  he  continued  to  blow  on  it 
until  finally  it  was  large  enough  to  suit  him.  when  he  said.  "  It  is  now- 
large  enough." 

Then  he  began  to  scrape  into  the  kettle  from  the  siunll  object,  but 
soon  he  exclaimed,  "Oh,  pshaw!  it  is  not  enough.  1  will  scrape  it 
all  into  the  kettle."  Having  done  this  he  said,  "Perhaps  this  food 
is  abundant  in  the  place  whence  he  obtains  it.  so  I  have  used  it  all." 
As  he  began  to  stir  it  briskly,  using  a  paddle  for  the  purpose,  the 
mush  commenced  to  boil  with  great  violence.  At  last,  realizing  that 
the  mush  was  rapidly  increasing  in  quantity  in  the  kettle,  the  boy 
merely  Icept  on  stirring  it.  As  soon  as  he  began  to  blow  on  it  to 
cool  it.  the  mush  increased  still  more  rapidly  in  bulk.  While  he 
continued  to  stir  and  blow  on  the  mush,  it  began  to  overflow  and  to 
fill  the  room  around  the  fire.  Still  he  kept  on  as  before  (not  real- 
izing the  effect  of  his  blowing),  until  at  last  he  had  to  run  over 
the  couches  at  the  side  of  the  room  in  his  anxiety  to  stir  the  imish, 
for  he  was  now  thoroughly  frightened  at  what  he  had  done.  As 
he  again  blew  on  the  mush  flowing  from  the  kettle  it  still  continued 
to  increase  in  quantity  until  finally  he  was  driven  from  the  room  l)y 
the  great  mass,  and  had  to  climb  upon  the  rfiof  of  the  lodge.  Here 
he  ran  around  while  he  vigorously  stirred  the  mush,  which,  with 
the  kettle,  entirelv  filled  the  lodge. 


504  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  1  eth.  ANN.  32 

Suddenly  he  noticed  his  uncle  approaching  in  great  haste, 
anxiously  looking  up  at  the  lodge,  for  he  saw  his  nephew  Gajihsondis 
running  around  on  the  roof.  AVhen  the  uncle  reached  the  doorway, 
which,  as  was  the  custom  in  those  times,  was  closed  by  two  pieces 
of  bark,  he  found  these  ajar,  for  the  inside  of  the  lodge  was,  as 
alread.y  said,  filled  with  the  mush  and  kettle.  The  uncle  began  to 
blow  on  the  mush,  whereupon  it  at  once  diminished  in  quantity,  and 
after  he  had  blown  on  it  many  times  it  was  reduced  to  small  bulk. 

The  nephew  still  stood  on  the  roof  of  the  lodge,  greatly  frightened. 
The  uncle  said  to  him,  "Come,  now,  Gajihsondis.  get  down  from 
there."  At  this  the  nephew  descended  from  the  roof  and  reentered 
the  lodge.  Thereupon  his  uncle  said,  "  Now  you  have  killed  me.  I 
did  not  think  that  you  would  do  this,  although  fear  that  you  might 
is  the  reason  why  I  never  permitted  you  to  see  me  prepare  my  food, 
because  you  have  no  sen.se.''  Then  covering  himself  with  a  skin 
robe,  he  lay  down,  adding:  "So  I  shall  die  here.  I  do  not  know 
that  there  is  anything  left  for  me  to  eat.  Hunger  will  kill  me,  and 
jou  have  brought  this  about  by  your  acts."  Having  said  this  he 
covered  himself  up  completely. 

Thereupon  the  boy  arose  and  standing  beside  the  couch  of  his 
uncle,  said  beseechingly,  "  Oh.  my  uncle  I  my  mother's  brother,  only 
have  pity  on  me.  But  tell  me  where  the  place  is  in  which  abounds 
that  on  which  you  live?"  The  old  uncle  replied  commiseratingly : 
"  It  is  no  u.se  for  me  to  tell  you.  You  are  not  able  to  go  to  obtain  it, 
on  account  of  the  great  difficulties  along  the  path;  there  are  all  man- 
ner of  di.=couraging  perils  along  the  way,  for  all  manner  of  demoniac 
creatures  lay  in  ambush  along  the  path.'"'*  And  so  for  these  reasons 
1  think  you  are  unable  to  undertaKe  the  task  of  trying  to  get  me 
more  of  my  food."  The  boy  simply  asked.  "  What  is  the  name  of 
the  substance  you  eat?'"  "It  is  called  Chestnut.  Far  from  here  it 
is  planted  by  personages,  heastlike  in  appearance,  which  are  full  of 
evil  magic  power  or  otkon  in  their  actions."  "  Oh.  mother's  brother ! 
it  is  needful  for  you  to  tell  me  the  direction  that  the  path  takes  going 
to  that  place,"  said  the  lad.  The  uncle  answered.  "  It  is  im- 
possible for  you  to  do  anything  in  that  direction:  you  are  powerless. 
You  can  not  make  the  attempt  and  live."  .  Then  after  some  reflection 
he  added. '"  The  path  leads  directly  west  from  here."  To  this  the  boy 
Gajihsondis  answered :  "  I  will  make  the  attempt.  I  will  start,  and  I 
will  get  this  thing  called  Chestnut  that  you  are  in  the  habit  of  eating. 
So  now  I  go.  I  have  fastened  together  two  limbs.  You  must  look  at 
these  from  time  to  time.  Whenever  they  break  apart,  you  will  know 
that  I  have  had  ill  luck  away  from  here:  that  pi-obably  I  shall  be 
killed  by  them.  So  only  keep  a  watch  on  this  thing,  and  if  it  chance 
that  they  do  not  break  apart,  you  may  expect  me  to  return  after  the 


'il^[ri?r]  LEGENDS  505 

lapse  of  .soinc  time.  l)iiii<;iiiir  i-lu'stnut.s."     So  sayiiiif.  the  boy  started 
on  his  journey. 

After  going  some  distance  he  found  a  very  narrow  path  wiiicli  led 
directly  westward,  and  lemarked,  "This  is  perhaps  the  path  intli- 
cated  by  my  uncle."  Finally  he  started  to  run.  when  all  at  once  he 
heard  .sounds  seemingly  made  by  a  rattle.  Keejiing  on.  at  last  he 
came  to  the  place  whence  the  sounds  proceeded.  There  he  fouml  two 
huge  rattlesnake.?,  one  on  each  side  of  the  path,  blocking  it  in  such 
maimer  that  he  coidd  not  ])ass.  (loing  aside,  he  killed  a  large  num- 
ber of  chipmunks,  which  he  bound  into  two  equal  liundlcs.  Return- 
ing to  the  |)lace  wheiv  the  two  rattlesnakes  were  on  guai-d,  he  said 
to  them.  "  You  two  seem  to  be  in  need  of  f()o<l.  and  so  1  think'  that  you 
two  wouhl  like  to  eat  these  things."  With  these  words  he  threw  a 
bundle  i>(  chipmunks  to  each  of  the  rattlesnakes,  which  they  ate. 

.\fter  tlie  two  i-attlesnakes  had  devoured  the  chiiimunl^s  the  boy 
said  to  them  in  a  commanding  tone:  "  You  two  must  withdraw  fi'om 
this  place,  fur.  you  know,  you  are  sla\es,  indeed:  you  must  go  from 
place  to  place  to  hunt  for  your  food,  for  tliis  is  always  ])leasant: 
and  lie  who  ga\t'  faculties  to  our  bodies  did  not  intend  that  anyone 
should  lie  held  in  bondage."  'I'hereu|ion  the  two  rattlesnakes  with 
drew  and  went  aside  from  that  |)lace:  thus  were  they  freeil  from 
their  bondage  to  sorcerers. 

Then  the  boy  left  on  a  vei'V  swift  run.  can-ying  only  his  Ixiw  and 
ai-rows.  Again,  after  having  gone  a  long  distance,  he  heard  sounds 
in  the  distance.  Having  reached  the  ]ilace  whence  came  the  sounds, 
lie  was  surprise<l  to  lind  there  a  great  bear  just  beside  the  path.  and. 
looking  on  the  other  side  of  the  ]iath.  he  saw  another  of  equal  size 
and  ferocity:  they  wei'e  in  ambush  and  bai'red  the  jiassage  of  the 
path.  The  noises  that  he  had  heard  were  made  by  the  tii-ks  of  these 
animals,  which  ]n-ojected  far  frojn  their  jaws  and  c'ould  be  heard  at 
a  long  distance.  thu.« — di7'.  diV,  dij'.  dv'. 

Then  (ln>  boy.  taking  his  bow  an<l  arrows,  went  aside  (o  hunt,-  He 
killed  two  fawns,  one  of  which  he  threw  to  the  one  bear,  and  the 
other  to  the  othei-  bear-,  in  ordei-  to  occupy  their  minds  and  mouths. 
He  said  to  these  guarding  beasts:  "  It  is  too  bad  that  you  two  are 
barring  the  way.  One  might  lhiid\  you  wouhl  be  glad  to  eat  this 
food  which  T  now  oli'er  you."  The  bears  ate  what  had  been  given  to 
them  .-ukI  were  quiet  for  the  time  bein<r.  The  youth  then  gave  them 
this  conunand  :  "  ^  ou  must  withdraw  from  this  i)lace;  what  you  are 
now  eating  is  abundant,  as  is  well  known:  and  you  mii.st  e^it  this 
kind  of  food  regtdarly  hereafter,  ^'ou  shall  be  free  to  go  and  come 
as  you  choose,  for  He  who  made  oin-  lives  did  not  intend  that  you 
should  be  enslaved  by  sorcerers  and  confined  to  one  place."  The  two 
bears  at  once  fled  from  the  spot,  one  going  in  one  direction  ami  the 
other  in  another. 


506  SENECA   FICnON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.ann.  32 

Then  the  boy  went  on  his  way.  He  had  not  gone  very  far 
when  he  heard  other  sounds — dum',  dum\  dunt.  He  soon  came 
to  the  phice  where  the  sounds  were  made,  and  he  was  indeed  fright- 
ened, for  then  the  sounds  were  fearful  in  volume  and  rapidity.  He 
was  astonished  to  see  two  great  firedragons  in  ambush,  guarding 
the  pathway.  Thereupon  the  boy  said,  "  So  let  it  be;  I  will  make 
the  attempt."  Running  aside,  he  killed  a  large  deer,  and  having 
dragged  tlie  body  back  to  the  place  where  the  two  firedragons  were, 
he  divided  it  into  two  portions.  Then  saying,  "  You  two  are  guard- 
ing this  pathway,  and  one  would  think  that  you  miglit  eat  what  I 
am  offering  you."  He  threw  a  piece  to  each  of  them.  They  were 
pleased  to  get  this  food,  which  they  ate  ravenously;  after  doing  this 
they  were  quiet  for  the  time  being.  Then  the  boy  again  spoke, 
saying,  "  You  two  beings  must  withdraw  from  this  place.  This  is 
food  good  to  eat ;  it  is  called  deer  meat.  You  now  go  to  some  other 
place.  You  are  indeed  slaves,  are  you  not?  But  He  who  com- 
pleted our  lives  did  not  intend  that  anyone  should  be  a  slave  to  a 
sorcerer."  He  ceased  speaking,  and  the  two  firedragons  fled  from  the 
spot,  as  they  had  obtained  their  liberty. 

Now  the  boy  passed  on.  After  having  run  a  long  way  from  his 
home,  he  suddenly  saw  in  the  distance  openings  in  the  forest,  which 
seemed  to  indicate  that  there  might  be  people  dwelling  in  those 
places.  So  he  went  along  slowly  and  craftily,  concealing  himself 
as  much  as  possible;  he  arrived  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  where 
he  stood  for  a  while.  He  looked  around  to  learn,  if  possible,  what 
other  antagonists  he  had  to  meet.  Suddenly  he  saw  hanging  up 
not  far  away  the  skin  of  a  dead  woman  watching  the  pathway. 
This  woman's  skin  ^"''  was  guarding  the  trees  of  chestnuts  which  grew 
in  the  clearing  into  which  the  boy  had  come.  In  performing  this 
duty  the  skin  kept  saying,  "I  espy  (out-eye)  you.  You  who  are  a 
human  being,  I  suppose."  But  the  boy  kept  very  still,  standing  at 
the  edge  of  the  clearing.  He  saw  in  the  distance  a  lodge  that  stood 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  clearing,  and  he  saw  women  going  in  and 
coming  out  of  it.  Most  of  these  were  maidens.  On  looking  around 
the  boy  saw  the  chestnut  trees  that  grew  there,  and  he  noticed  that 
they  bore  many  burs.  He  realized  at  once  that  within  these  burs 
were  the  chestnuts.  And  as  he  watched  he  saw  some  of  the  chestnuts 
fall  from  the  trees. 

But  while  he  was  thus  engrossed  he  was  surprised  to  hear  the 
woman's  skin  begin  to  sing,  Gi'-nu,  gi'-nu,  gi'-nu,  gi'-)iu;  "  I  espy 
a  human  being,"  and  then  out  of  the  lodge  in  the  distance  the  boy  saw 
three  women  and  their  mother  emerge.  The  mother,  addressing  her 
daughters,  exclaimed,  "'  Exert  yourselves,  my  children !  I  suppose, 
now,  that  some  one  has  come  to  rob  us  of  our  chestnuts."  The  skirts 
of  these  women  reached  to  a  point  just  above  their  knees,  and  they 


CDRTI 
BE 


^,T,',y  LEGENDS  507 


carried  war  clubs.  They  ran  toward  the  place  where  hnn<^  the 
woman's  skin,  wiiich  was  guarding  their  chestnut  trees.  AVhen  they 
arrived  there  they  found  no  human  being.  Thereupon  the  old  woman 
angi-ily  said,  "  Indeed,  you  have  told  a  falsehood,"  and  struck  the 
hanging  skin  with  her  war  club,  and  each  of  her  daughters,  running 
up,  did  likewise.  Then  all  the  women  went  back  to  their  lodge,  and 
the  boy  said  to  himself,  "How  may  I  deceive  this  woman  on  the 
watch?"  At  last  he  hit  upon  a  scheme  which  he  thought  would 
accomplish  his  purpose.  Stripping  off  a  piece  of  basswootl  bark  as 
wide  as  his  person,  he  removed  the  outside  rough  portion  of  .suitable 
length.  Spreading  this  out  on  the  ground,  he  flrew  tiiereon  with  a 
piece  of  charcoal  the  outlines  of  many  kinds  of  animals,  all  true  to 
nature.  He  then  filled  the  outlines  with  the  animals  he  had  drawn — 
the  bear,  the  deer,  the  wolf,  the  fox,  and  the  raccoon;  in  fact,  with 
the  forms  of  all  the  animals. 

Then  the  j'outh  returned  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  where  he  again 
took  his  stand.  He  found  the  skin  of  the  dead  woman  still  hanging 
there,  watching,  looking  this  way  and  that,  to  detect,  if  possible,  the 
approach  of  any  stranger.  In  full  readiness  to  execute  his  design, 
he  finally  started  toward  the  skin,  and.  running  swiftly,  reached  the 
spot  before  she  was  awai'e  of  his  approach.  Seizing  it  at  once,  the 
skin  ceased  swinging.  Thereupon  the  boy  said  to  it :  "  Do  not  report 
my  taking  this  pile  of  chestnuts  away  with  me.  I  will  pay  you  for 
this  favor;  indeed.  I  will  pay  you  a  very  high  price;  it  is  of  the  value 
of  a  man's  life.  I  will  pay  you  with  what  is  called  a  wampum  belt, 
which  is  made  of  wampum  beads."  Saying  this,  he  gave  her  what 
he  had  made,  and  she  accepted  it.  She  opened  her  eyes  wide  in  look- 
ing at  it,  exclaiming,  "  Oh  !  it  is  beautiful,"  for  it  looked  fine  to  her, 
and  she  laughed  with  delight.  Then  she  said,  "So  be  it;  I  will  not 
give  the  alarm."  Answering,  "  Do  not  give  the  alarm,"  he  proceeded 
to  take  a  bark  case  of  chestnuts  which  had  been  left  there  temporai-il}'. 
Placing  this  on  his  back  by  means  of  a  forehead  strap,  he  departed 
at  once.  He  had  not  gone  very  far  when  suddenly  he  heard  the 
voice  of  the  hanging  skin  of  the  woman  singing,  "  Oi'-mi'-.  ffi'-nu^, 
gi'-nu^;  one  has  closed  my  mouth  with  a  belt  of  wampum.  Gi'-nu'' ; 
at  the  edge  of  the  clearing  goes  the  jiack  of  chestnuts." 

On  hearing  this,  the  old  woman,  the  mother  of  the  three  women 
in  the  distant  lodge,  said  urgently,  "Take  courage!  Bestir  your- 
sehcs.  my  children  !  I  suppose  some  one  has  now  robbed  us  of  our 
chestnuts."  In  a  moment  they  rushed  out  of  the  lodge  and  ran 
toward  the  place  whore  the  woman's  skin  hung  swinging  to  and  fro, 
singing  the  notes  of  alarm.  They  soon  arrived  there,  and.  lo !  the 
skin  swung  to  and  fro,  gazing  intently  at  a  wamijum  belt,  and  saying. 
"  It  is  of  the  value  of  a  human  life,  and  by  it  one  closed  my  mouth." 
The  women  rushed  up,  and  their  mother  snatched  the  so-called  belt 


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

from  her  hands,  exclaiming :  "  This  is  not  a  wampum  belt;  it  is  a  piece 
of  bark,  and  still  you  say  it  is  a  belt  of  wampum.  You,  indeed,  have 
no  sense."  And  throwing  the  piece  of  bark  away  she  struck  the 
skin  of  tlie  woman  a  cruel  blow  with  her  war  club.  Continuing  her 
rebuke,  she  said,  "  It  is  too  true  that  you  have  no  sense.  It  is  entirely 
your  fault  that  one  has  robbed  us  of  our  chestnuts."  Then  the 
woman,  looking  far  away  in  the  distance,  saw  the  pack,  consisting 
of  the  case  of  chestnuts,  disappearing  in  the  forest  beyond  the  edge 
of  the  clearing.  Then  the  old  woman  said :  "  Come  !  Let  us  pursue 
him.  It  is  distressing  to  think  that  he  has  robbed  us.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  seems  that  he  is  a  person  who  has  more  oreiida  (magic 
power)  than  his  uncle  Ougwe'  Hanges^hii'  ("Human  Skin"),  this 
(iajihsondis.  So,  therefore,  let  us  pursue  him  and  kill  him  with 
blows  of  our  war  clubs.  If,  perchance,  we  may  be  able  to  overtake 
him,  we  will  surely  kill  him."" 

It  so  happened  that  Gajilisondis  heard  the  footsteiDS  of  the  women 
as  they  drew  near  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  without  further  ado,  he 
took  his  pack  from  his  back  and  laid  it  down,  and  seated  himself 
beside  it. 

AVhen  the  women  came  close  to  him  on  the  run,  he  struck  the  case 
of  chestnuts  with  his  arrow,  saying:  "It  seems  that  I  should  sing 
you  a  song  so  that  you  may  dance,  because  you  come  in  so  great 
anger.  It  is  fine,  indeed.  The  song  that  I  will  sing  is  pleasant  to 
hear.     So,  now,  you  nnist  dance." 

Then  he  sang:  "One  shall  not  return  from  the  upper  side  of  the 
sky.  One  shall  not  return  from  the  upper  side  of  the  sky.  One 
shall  not  return  from  the  upper  side  of  the  sky.  One  shall  not  rob 
me  of  my  song  (the  orenda  of  my  song)."  He  kept  on  singing  this 
song;  and  the  women,  the  mother  and  her  daughters,  danced  without 
ceasing  as  they  circled  around  the  spot  where  he  was  seated;  and  the 
mother  kept  on  saying,  "Exert  yourselves  my  children;  this  is  a 
very  fine  song."  But  Gajilisondis  kept  on  singing,  "  On  the  upper 
side  of  the  sky,  on  the  U})per  side  of  the  sky,  on  the  upper  side  of 
the  sky,  one  shall  not  return  thence  " ;  and  the  women  kept  on  rising 
in  the  air.  Before  long  they  had  ascended  half  the  height,  of  the 
tallest  trees,  and  they  still  danced  on.  Then  Gajihsondis  suddenly 
ceased  his  singing,  and  taking  up  his  pack  and  slinging  it  on  his 
back  by  the  forehead  strap,  started  on  homeward  leisurely.  He  had 
not  gone  very  far  when  suddenly  he  saw  the  body  of  a  woman  fall- 
ing, followed  in  quick  succession  by  the  bodies  of  three  other  women, 
all  falling,  head  foremost,  to  the  earth. 

Then  the  young  man  started  for  home,  but  he  stopped  along  the 
way  to  rest  at  times.  Without  further  adventure  he  reached  his 
uncle's  lodge,  bearing  the  bark  ca.se  full  of  chestnuts.  On  reaching 
the  lodge  he  called  out,  "Oh,  my   uncle!     Are  you  still   living?" 


'i^^l^^  LEGENDS  509 

Till'  old  luaii.  who  wns  iiulccil  I'et'lih'.  replied:  '•  Al;is.  my  iicplu'W,  it 
can  still  be  said  I  am  yet  alive,  my  nephew — you  wlu)  arc  called 
Gajihsondis."  His  nei)hcw  answered:  '"I  have  now  iet\irned.  and 
1  iiiin<i  with  me  what  I  souffht  to  obtain:  I  have  a  lai<^e  (jiiantity. 
So  now  yoii  can  eat  ajrain.  and  now  1  will  ])re])are  mush  of  chestnuts 
for  you.  and  you  will  again  liecome  satisfied  with  a  sufficiency  of 
food,  and  will  recover  your  health."  So  sayin<r.  the  yoniiii:  man  set 
to  worlf  makiii":  a  \eiy  lai\2;e  quantity  of  the  nuisli  for  his  poor  old 
uncle.  AVhen  it  was  cooked,  he  removed  the  kettle  containinir  it 
from  the  fire  and  poured  the  mush  on  a  ]iiece  of  hark.  Then  he 
went  to  the  side  of  his  nncle,  and  i-aising  him  up  and  uririui:  him  to 
be  of  good  cli(>er.  fed  him  the  mush,  althouirh  his  uncle  could  hardly 
move.  The  old  man  ate  the  nnish,  for  he  was  nearly  famished;  his 
privations  had  reduced  his  body  to  a  mere  skeleton — just  sk-in  and 
liones.  He  ate. a  large  quantity  before  he  had  enough.  He  did 
indeed  recover  his  sti-ength  ;ind  health. 

Later  the  old  man  said  to  his  nephew:  "'My  nephew.  1  am  \ ci-y 
thankful  indee<l  that  you  were  able  to  accomplish  this  great  task. 
The  only  thing  I  did  was  to  watch  the  branch,  which  was  the  index 
of  youi-  state  and  situation.  I  could  only  think  that  you  wei'e  still 
alixe.  I  now  again  thank  you  for  being  able  to  ae<'omplish  this 
great  task.     On  my  part.  I  am  much  delighted  with  oui-  foi-tune. 

"Now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  by  what  unheard-of  means  did  you 
accomplish  this  great  task.  The  young  man  answered  :  "  I.  of  I'ourse. 
know,  but  I  will  tell  you  only  this:  That  I  have  destroyed  all  those 
women,  posse.ssed  of  great  orenda  and  mo\ed  by  t>\  il  ])ur]>oses.''  The 
nncle  said.  "So  be  it.  AVhat  a  wonilerful  thing  this  is.  \n\\  and 
I  will  return  to  that  place."  To  ihis  thi'  youth  re])lie(l:  "  .'^^o  lei  it 
be.''  and  then,  aftei-  making  their  usual  iire]>arations.  they  departed. 
They  stojijied  along  the  route  and  finally  I'eached  the  s|)ot  where  the 
women  dwelt  who  had  jilanted  chestnut  trees.  The  only  one  who 
was  alive  was  the  skin  of  the  woman  which  was  hung  u])  to  swing 
to  and  fro  and  to  watch  and  to  gi\e  the  alarm  should  any  ]ierson 
make  his  a])])earance. 

'When  they  arrived  at  the  empty  lodge  of  the  women  they  unfas- 
tened and  uncovered  the  bark  cases  containing  chestmits.  which  the 
women  had  stored  and  guarded  from  all  mankind.  Taking  uj)  a 
handful  of  the  chestnuts,  the  oKl  man  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice: 
■'  .Vll  iieojile  shall  eat  this  food.  Never  shall  it  again  lie  the  |)osses- 
sion  of  a  single  family,  but  it  shall  be  for  all  human  beings":  and 
they  scattered  the  chestnuts  in  all  diiections  by  hiindfuls.  When 
they  had  completed  their  task  they  W(>nt  to  the  jilace  where  the  skin 
of  the  woman  was  swinging  to  and  fro.  Ariiving  there,  they  took 
<lown  the  skin,  and  the  old  man  said  to  her:  '"  You  .shall  go  together 
vrith  us  to  our  home.     You  v.ill   recover,  indeed,  from  that  awful 


510  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  S2 

thing  which  the  women  had  done  to  you,  and  you  shall  be  restored  to 
the  likeness  of  a  living  human  being."  So  saying,  he  proceeded  to 
rub  her  entire  body  with  his  hands  reenforced  by  his  great  orenda 
(magic  power).  She  soon  was  restored  to  her  normal  figure  and 
condition,  and  she  again  had  the  appearance  of  a  human  being. 

Then  the  old  man,  Ongwe'  Haiiges"ha',  said  to  her  and  his  nephew, 
"Come  now,  let  us  start  for  home";  and  after  making  suitable 
preparations,  they  departed.  They  stopped  to  camp  many  places  on 
the  way,  but  in  due  time  they  arrived  at  their  home,  whereupon  the 
old  man  said  to  his  nephew :  "  We  have  now  returned  to  our  home. 
You  have  now  also  grown  to  manhood,  and  it  is  a  custom  that  when 
one  attains  to  manhood,  he  marries.  Marriage  must  take  place  in 
your  case  now.  You  must  start  on  a  10-days'  journey.  There  are 
on  the  way  10  camping  places  with  fireplaces,  which  are  visible. 
That  is  the  distance  which  you  must  go.  To  reach  this  place  you 
must  go  eastward,  and  there  you  will  find  a  valley.  You  must  go 
along  the  path  leading  thither.  You  must  summon  all  your  courage 
and  resolution  in  undertaking  this  journey,  for  along  this  path  there 
are  found  all  manner  of  difficulties  and  dangers.  Along  this  path 
you  will  find  one  who  is  called  S'hodie'o"sko"'  (the  Abuseful  Trick- 
ster), who  continually  haunts  this  pathway.  Come,  now!  I  will 
dress  you  for  the  occasion."  So  he  anointed  him  abundantly  with 
sunflower  oil  over  his  entire  body.  He  said  to  him :  "  You  nmst 
take  along  with  you  this  pouch  of  human  skin,  in  which  there  is  a 
smoking  pipe  which  was  the  skull  of  a  human  being;  and  for  a 
lighter  there  are  a  flint  and  a  piece  of  tinder,  or  punk;  and  also  aa 
awl  and  a  Icnife.  These  are  the  things  this  pouch  contains,  and  with 
these  you  will  provide  for  your  needs  on  the  way.  You  must  now 
start.  The  trees  along  the  way  have  been  blazed,  and  you  will  find 
the  camping  places,  although  it  is  not  certain  that  they  are  still 
easily  discovered.  But  you  must  find  them,  and  there  you  must 
spend  the  night.  This  you  must  do  for  10  nights,  and  then  your 
pathway  will  lead  you  to  the  valley.  There  you  shall  find  assembled  a 
large  concourse  of  people,  and  you  shall  see  there  also  the  home  of 
a  woman  who  has  a  tall  tree,  on  the  top  of  which  are  perched  mys- 
terious Hawks  (  ?),  three  in  number,  which  are  her  servants  and  which 
obey  her  thaumaturgic  commands ;  but  these  are  three  of  her  daugh- 
ters. He  who  will  hit  one  of  these  mysterious  birds  shall  be  privi- 
leged to  marry  her  youngest  daughter,  who  is  a  "  down-fended  "  *'" 
virgin ;  that  is  to  say,  a  noble  virgin.  So  the  fortunate  one  shall  marry 
her.  And  so  you  .shall  go  thither.  It  is  known  that  in  the  days  that 
have  gone  by  no  one  has  hit  one  of  these  mysterious  birds,  although 
those  who  shoot  at  them  daily  are  very  numerous.  You  it  is  wh» 
will  be  able  to  hit  the  bird.  Come,  then,  now  depart.  But  perhaps 
it  might  be  better  that  another  day  should  break  on  us  together  ;^ 


--S]  LEGENDS  511 

tliat  you  ami  I  sliould  again  eat  tocrcther.  for  wo  know  that  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  you  shall  return  in  health  and  peace.  All  manner 
of  diflicuities  iind  danirers  fill  the  way  which  you  must  follow. 

"If  it  be  .so  that  you  become  a  son-in-law,  then  you  nuist  say  to 
your  mother-in-law.  '  I  shall  now  smoke  my  pipe.'  And  when  you 
have  liirhteil  your  pipe  you  sliall  inhale  the  smoke  twice,  and  your 
mother-in-law  must  spread  a  buckskin  on  the  ground.  Then  you 
shall  inhale  the  smoke  only  twice  and  shall  expectorate  wampum 
beads  thereon.  Together  in  one  place  you  and  I  shall  eat  again  and 
also  sleep  again." 

So  they  spent  the  night  in  the  lodge  together,  and  in  the  morning 
they  ate  together.  When  they  had  finished  their  meal  the  young  man 
said  :  "  I  am  all  ready  now.  Oh.  uncle  I  I  start  now.  Put  forth,  there- 
fore, your  orenda  (magic  power=hope.  in  modern  usage)  that  in 
peace  and  health  you  and  I  may  see  each  other  again."  "^^rhe  old 
uncle  answered.  "  So  let  it  be  as  you  have  saitl.'"  The  young  man 
replied,  "Indeed,  you  did  say  that  (here  are  10  camping  sites  indi- 
cated by  signs  of  fireplaces  on  the  way.  and  that  it  is  10  days'  jour- 
ney."   So  saying,  he  started  on  his  journey. 

After  leaving  the  lodge  the  yoimg  man  ran  very  swiftly.  He  had 
not  gone  very  far.  as  he  judged,  wlu'U  he  was  sui-])rised  to  s(^e  the 
ashes  and  the  dead  coals  of  a  former  fire — the  signs  of  a  camping  place. 
At  this  he  exclaimed,  "Ah !  he  did  not  say  that  some  of  the  camping 
places  were  quite  near."  He  stopped  and  thought  seriously  for 
some  moments,  finally  deciding  to  return  to  the  lodge  for  further 
information  from  his  old  uncle.  So  lu'  ran  homeward,  going  to  the 
place  where  lived  his  uncle,  his  mother's  brother.  On  arriving  thei-e 
theunclcsaid  to  him.  "Well,  what  has  ha])pened  toyou?"  Thevoung 
man  answered,  "I  have  come  to  ask  you  again  about  iii\  jnurnev. 
You  did  not  say  that  one  of  the  camping  places  was  near  liy."  The 
old  uncle  e.xclaimed,  "  H'ii".'  Did  you  go  as  far  as  (hat?  "  "  I  went 
as  far  as  that,'"  replied  the  young  man.  The  uncle  answered,  "IIo. 
you  are  indeed  quite  imnuine  to  the  spells  of  sorcery.  These  cani]iing 
places  are  all  like  this  one  along  the  way."  The  young  man  replied, 
"So  be  it.  I  will  stop  there  again.  It  does  not  matter,  does  it.  (hat 
you  and  I  see  daylight  together?"  The  old  man  was  much  dis- 
couraged. Daylight  came  upon  them,  ami  they  ate  their  morning 
meal  together.  AVhen  they  had  finished  eating,  the  old  man.  address- 
ing his  nephew,  said.  "You  shall  hereaf(er  be  called  Ongwe' 
IIanges"hii'.  It  shall  be  your  custom  when  anyone  asks  you  vour 
name  to  say,  Ongwe'  Ilafiges'iia'."  The  young  man  answered.  "So 
be  it.    I  now  start,"  and  he  left  the  lodge  of  his  uncle. 

The  youth  came  to  the  place  marked  for  the  first  camping  ]ilace. 
but  he  passed  it  and  kept  on.  and  thus  he  did  with  all  the  others, 
until  he  arrived  at  the  tenth  camping  place,  although  the  sun  was 


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

low  in  the  west  when  he  had  reached  the  first  one.  At  the  tenth 
camping  phice  he  saw  that  the  forest  edges  were  wreathed  in  long 
films  of  dew  clouds,  and  he  stopped  there  for  the  night.  Qiiicklj- 
arising  in  the  morning,  he  was  startled  to  hear  the  voices  of  a  number 
of  men,  who  were  laughing  as  they  went  eastward,  and  who  passed 
by  on  the  path. 

The  young  man  got  ready  and  went  on.  When  he  reached  the 
pathway  he  saw  that  all  the  tracks  indicated  that  these  persons  were 
going  eastward.  He  continued  his  journey  along  the  path  in  the  same 
direction.  Suddenly  he  saw  ahead  of  him  a  man,  who  was  very  old 
in  appearance  and  very,  very  small  in  size.  Just  before  overtaking 
him  the  young  man  decided  that  this  must  be  S'hodie'o°sko°',  who 
was  in  tatters.  When  the  young  num  came  up  with  him,  the  small 
man  exclaimed;  "Oh,  my  nephew!  3'ou  have  overtaken  me,  so  now 
you  and  I  will  go  on  together.  For  all  are  going  in  pairs.  All  those 
who  are  going  to  the  place  where  the  Hawks  (?),  perched  on  the 
woman's  tree,  forthtell  for  her.  I  shall  follow  you,  as  you  can  go 
so  much  faster  than  L"  Then  Ongwe'  Hanges"ha'  answered :  "  It  is 
impossible  for  me  to  agree  to  that  proposition.  You  yourself  take 
the  lead,  because  I  am  fleeter  than  are  you."  The  only  reply  the 
old  man  made  was,  IIV,  and  then  they  two  went  on  with  the  old 
man  in  the  lead.  All  at  once  he  began  to  run.  Iloho'' ,  he  ran  on 
ahead.  He  kept  on  for  a  long  distance,  and  then  suddenly  he  turned 
aside  into  tiie  forest.  In  a  short  time  he  began  calling,  "/7o.'  come 
hither,  my  nephew.  I  have  treed  a  fisher  here,  and  ,you  must  get 
its  skin  for  me.  Come,  come!  "  he  kept  on  saying;  "you  must  shoot 
it,  too,  and  this  is  a  good  place  to  stand  when  you  are  about  to  shoot 
at  it.  Come  on.  come  on !  "  he  kept  on  saying.  Finally,  the  young 
man  said,  "  I  will  shoot  it."  Then  he  went  thither  and  shot  at  it, 
striking  it  fairly  through  the  heart,  and  with  the  arrow  still  sticking 
into  it  the  fisher  fell  dead  to  the  ground.  The  old  man  exclaimed. 
"  Come  on  !  Come  this  way.  I  forbear  touching  your  arrow."  Then 
Ofigwe"  Hariges''ha'  said.  "  ^ly  arrow  has  lost  its  orenda  (magic 
power)."  Overhearing  this  remark,  the  old  man  said,  "  irw".  One 
would  think  perhaps  that  he  is  a  sorcerer,"  and  he  then  drew  out  the 
arrow  from  the  dead  fisher,  and  ciM'ried  it  to  his  companion,  saying, 
"I  am  free  from  (magical)  taint,  you  know,  and  so  I  can  not 
de-magic-ize  *''  your  arrow.    Here,  take  it !  " 

The  young  man  took  the  arrow  again  and  they  went  on  to  the  spot 
where  they  would  encamp  for  the  night.  When  they  arrived  at  the 
place  the  sun  was  low  in  the  west.  The  old  man  said  to  his  nephew, 
in  oi'der  to  remove  any  apprehensions  from  his  mind  as  to  his  own 
good  intentions,  "  I  will  now  skin  the  fisher  and  prepare  its  skin." 
At  this  time  they  heard  in  the  distance  the  sounds  of  persons  laugh- 
ing.    And.  they  say,  these  persons  made  their  several  camps  there. 


^l"^l^i]  LEGENDS  51.3 

Thi'ii  >SiK)<li(''o''sko''"  said.  "  Hero  let  us,  for  our  part,  pitch 
our  canij).  iiccausi'  wlicii  aiiioiifr  [leopk'  I  am  uuicii  abused  because  I 
am  quite  old."  80  S"hodii''o''slvo""  and  his  companion  kindled  a  fire 
with  fafjots  and  soon  had  it  buriiin<;  briskly.  Kach  took  opposite 
sides  of  the  fii-e  and  lay  down  to  sleep  for  the  night. 

Some  time  durinj^  the  nij^ht  the  crafty  S'hodie'o"sko"'  sat  uj)  and 
bleM'  the  tire  up  in  such  manner  that  s|>ai-ks  and  coals  fell  all  ovei' 
Ongwc'  Ilanges'iiii'  as  he  lay  as]cc|).  liiil  the  latter  arose  suddenly 
and  asked.  "  AVhy  have  you  done  this  unreasonable  tiling^  "  'Jhe  old 
man  dissimulatiiigly  replied,  "Oh  I  that  was  probably  caused  by  a 
gust  of  wind  driving  the  sparks  o\  er  your  body."  Then  they  lay  down 
again,  .\gain.  just  befoi'e  the  i)rcak  of  day.  the  old  man  once  more 
blew  the  tire  on  his  seemingly  sleei)ing  ct)mpanion.  Thereupon  the 
latter  arose,  and  taking  his  bow  and  flint-pointed  aii-ow.  crossed  over 
the  fireplace  to  the  jjlace  where  his  companion  was  lying,  lie  was 
surjjrised  to  see  him  awake,  looking  at  him.  The  old  man  depre 
catingly  said.  "Oh.  my  nephew  1  you  do  not  seem  to  know  tiiat  you 
were  nearly  burned  up.  as  the  lire  was  falling  on  you;  and  you  nnist 
not  think  that  it  was  I  who  did  this  to  vou."  On<nve'  Hanses'iiii' 
was  greatly  astonished  at  wliat  had  happened  and  said  to  his  com- 
paninn.  "  If  you  do  not  refi'ain  fi-om  what  you  are  doing  it  is  pos- 
sible foi-  me  to  destroy  you." 

A\'lK'n  it  was  nearly  ilayliglit  sounds  were  heard  in  the  camp  ahead 
and  the  occupants  starteil  on  their  joui'ney;  then  the  two  in  turn 
stai-ted  on  theii-  way.  Tliey  liad  not  gone  very  far  when  they  heard 
.sounds  in  the  distance  which  told  them  that  they  had  ai-rived  at  tiic 
place  in  whicii  were  congi-egated  all  the  |)eoi)]e  who  were  shootini:  at 
the  maik. 

S'ho(lie'o"sko"'  and  Ofigwe"  I  lafiges'iiii"  ke])t  right  on  tlieii-  wav 
until  they  reached  the  spot.  The  nephew  did  not  fear  anything. 
Once  on  the  ground  they  were  (piickly  made  aware  that  a  tree  stood 
there  and  tiiat  on  its  toj)  sat  a  hawk  (?)  or  hawks  (  '. ) .  There  was 
a  large  number  of  peoi)le  wlm  were  engaged  in  shooting  at  the  prize, 
seemingly  fastened  to  tlie  top  cif  the  trees,  which  stood  in  the  dooi'- 
yard  of  tiie  old  woman  who  dwelt  in  this  place;  but  all  failed  to  hit 
the  mark,  .\  short  distance  from  the  place  wdiere  the  peo])Ie  were 
engaged  in  shooting  at  the  mark  there  stood  a  lodge,  in  which  the 
old  woman,  the  mutlur  of  the  family,  walked  to  and  fro.  murmur- 
ing. "He  who  will  hit  that  thing  which  is  perched  on  the  top  of 
my  tiee  shall  marry  my  youngest  daughter."  She  keiit  on  say- 
ing this  as  she  went  from  place  to  place.  Without  cessation,  day 
after  day  for  many  days  the  marksmen  kept  on  shooting  at  the 
hawk  (()  perched  on  the  top  of  the  old  woman's  tree.  Sometimes 
an  arrow  would  fly  very  close  to  the  bird,  which  would  merely  flap 
94615°— 16 33 


514  SEXECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.ann.S2 

its  wings;  at  this  the  assembly  would  give  a  loud  shout  of  encour- 
agement. At  once  the  old  woman  would  come  forth  on  the  iiin  and 
would  ask  anxiously,  "Who  is  it  that  hit  the  mark?  Who  is  it  that 
is  my  son-in-law?"  But  the  people  would  reply,  "  It  is  not  true  that 
one  has  hit  it.  No  one  has  done  so."'  Then  she  would  return  to  her 
lodge  somewhat  disappointed. 

Now  the  people  began  to  say  among  themselves,  "  Ongwe'  Haii- 
ges"ha'  has  arrived,  and  he  is  immune  (from  the  influence  of  hostile 
orenda)."  Then  he  said  to  the  assembly,  "Now  it  is  my  turn  to 
.shoot.  It  is  not  certain  what  will  take  place  when  I  shoot.  You 
will  see  what  happens."  He  strung  his  bow,  and  all  the  people 
became  quiet  and  attentive  as  they  watched  him.  Assuming  a  suit- 
able position  and  taking  aim.  the  young  man  drew  his  arrow  to 
the  very  point  and  then  let  it  flj-.  Without  a  hitch,  the  arrow  struck 
fairly  in  the  center  of  the  bird's  body,  causing  the  bird  to  fall  over 
on  the  opposite  of  the  tree,  whence,  with  wings  feebly  flap- 
ping, it  fell  to  the  ground.  At  this  the  assembly  broke  out  in  a 
loud  shout  of  applause — so  loud  that  one  would  think  the  sound 
struck  the  heavens.  The  old  woman  came  up  on  the  run.  anxiously 
asking.  "  AVho  is  he  that  has  become  my  son-in-law?  "  All  the  people 
rushed  forward  to  the  place  where  lay  the  bird  with  the  arrow  still 
sticking  in  its  body. 

It  so  happened  that  one  of  the  marksmen  would  r>ni  up  and 
attempt  to  withdraw  the  arrow,  but  would  fail,"-  and  then  another, 
and  then  another;  but  they  all  failed.  Again  Godwehnia"dani', 
coming  uji,  said.  "Who  has  become  my  son-in-law?  "  As  the  marks- 
men failed  to  withdraw  the  arrow,  she  continued.  "  He  who  shall 
be  able  to  withdraw  the  arrow  shall  be  my  son-in-law."  Just  then 
Ohgwe'  Hanges''ha'  came  up,  saying,  "All  stand  back.  This  is 
my  arrow."  The  people  drew  back,  and  he  walked  up  to  the  bird 
and,  as  he  walked  along,  he  drew  out  the  arrow.  Then  the  old 
woman  said,  "  Ongwe'  Hanges''ha'  has  become  my  son-in-law,'" 
and,  taking  him  by  the  arm,  she  led  him  back  to  her  lodge.  Then  the 
people  dispersed  in  all  directions.  Then  the  old  woman  and  hei- 
companion  reached  her  lodge,  in  one  side  of  which  was  a  sort  of 
apartment  occupied  by  her  daughter,  who  was  born  with  a,  caul,  and 
hence  was  regarded  as  of  noble  birth.  The  epithet  applied  to  such 
maidens  and  young  men  is  "  down  fended."  The  old  woman,  leading 
the  young  man  into  this  apartment,  said  to  her  daughter.  "  This  man 
has  become  my  son-in-law.  He  is  called  Ongwe'  Hange.s'iiii',  and 
he  is  immune  from  enchantment,"" 

The  young  man  then  took  up  his  abode  in  his  wife's  family.  Ho! 
He  remained  there  for  a  long  time.  Then  he  said.  "  I  shall  go  on  a 
hunt,"  and  Oiigwe.'  Hanges'iiii"  said  to  his  three  brothers-in-law, 


CDRTI 
IIEWI 


^]  LEGENDS  515 


"Come  with  me  to  liiiiit."  Having  accepted  his  invitation,  they 
started  on  their  hunting  trip,  but  tiiev  had  not  gone  very  far  when 
tliey  were  surprised  by  a  small  herd  of  deer,  which  fled  from  (hem. 
Then  the  young  bridegroom  said  to  his  brothers-in-law,  "  Kemain 
hei'e.  and  I  alone  will  |)ursne  them  from  place  to  place."'  In  a  short 
time  he  shot  at  one  and  hit  it.  and  it  fell.  Then,  following  the 
remaining  deer,  lie  killed  them  one  by  one.  Thereupon  he  stopped, 
and  hailing  his  brotiieis-in-law.  said  to  them,  "Come  hither,  my 
brothers-in-law.  and  let  us  dress  these  deer."  So  they  went  to  him 
and  took  part  in  the  skinning  of  the  deer.  AA'hen  they  had  liuislied 
dressing  the  carcasses  they  began  at  once  to  pack  the  jielts  and  the 
venison  into  suitable  bundles  in  surh  mannei-  as  was  customary  in 
the  eai'ly  time.  When  they  were  all  ready  they  boie  these  bundles  on 
their  back<  by  means  of  the  foi-eliead  stia]i — the  usual  and  the  most 
coinenient  method  of  carrying  heavy  liurdens:  and  they  started  for 
iheir  home  with  Ongwe'  IIariges"h;i"  in  tiic  lead. 

Ila\  ing  arrived  at  tlieir  lodge,  they  laid  their  packs  of  venison  and 
pelts  at  the  feet  of  their  mother,  who  wept  for  the  great  joy  she  had 
in  receiving  so  much  venison,  saying:  "I  am  \ery  thaidcful  to  my 
.son-in-law  for  this  bounty,  and  on  my  ])ait  I  will  fulfill  my  duty  in 
jjroviding  the  feast  of  the  '  eat-all-uj).''"^  wjiich  shall  take  place  to- 
morrow.*' So  the  ne.xt  morning  they  put  the  kettles  oxer  tiie  fire  in 
the  early  dawn,  and  the  daughters  set  to  work  industriously  to  ])re- 
j)are  food  for  the  approaching  feast.  Suddenly  the  old  woman. 
(iodwennia"drun'.  went  out  of  the  lodge  and  ran  througli  the  \il- 
lage.  saying  to  the  people:  "The  feast  of  eat-all-up  is  to  be  held  at 
my  lodge.  Let  all  go  directly  to  the  place  whence  I  have  come  and 
start  at  once."  This  she  said  as  she  went  through  the  village,  and 
then  she  returned  to  hei-  own  home.  Then  hei-  daughters  and  sons 
I'emovcd  the  kettles  from  the  (ire:  and  they  placed  the  coni-meal 
mush  and  the  venison,  cooked  in  pieces,  in  bark  trays  anti  bowls 
which  they  had  ready  to  receive  the  ]ii-ei)ared  food. 

Now  jieople  began  to  ari-ix'e.  and  tlicy  sat  down  and  liecame  verv 
quiet.  At  this  time  the  old  woman,  tiie  mothei-  of  the  daughters  of 
the  lodge,  (Todweilnia'Mani',  said,  addressing  the  assemlily:  '•  \ow, 
you  who  ha\e  come  here  this  day  kiKJW  that  the  usual  ciistum  for  a 
feast  of  this  kind  shall  be  followed.  "^ Ou  wlio  have  come  in  by 
invitation  shall  first  eat  your  shares  of  the  food:  and  it  was  for  this 
reason  that  I  desired  a  feast  of  eat-all-up  as  my  thanks  offering;  and 
when  you  have  finished  eating,  then  my  children  and  T  will  eat.  Kor 
such  is  the  custom  when  one  marries.  \ow,  then,  you  must  cat. 
Vou  must  eat  up  all  that  is  apportioned  to  yon,  for  this  is  the  leason 
that  this  feast  is  called  the  feast  of  eat-all-up." 

Thereupon  the  neighliors  began  to  eat.  They  ate  during  the  entire 
day;  they  ate  the  venison;  they  enjoyed  also  the  corn-meal  mush:  and 


516  SENECA   FICTION',    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [kth,  ann.32 

fhey  kept  salving  as  they  ate,  "I  am  thankful  for  this  food,"  each  as 
he  feU  satisfied.  Thus  in  time  they  fulfilled  the  rites  of  the  feast  of 
eat-up-all,  which  is  usually  given  when  one  is  married;  they  ate  up 
all  that  had  been  prepared  for  them — a  good  omen  for  the  newly 
married  couple.  Then  each  went  his  way  home.  But  there  was  one 
matter  which  was  postponed  until  the  next  day. 

The  (lav  after  the  feast  of  eat-all-up  there  took  place  what  Oiigwe' 
IIanges''ha'  had  said  would  come  to  pass.  He  had  said,  "  I  crave  a 
smoke,  and  so  very  early  tomorrow  morning  you,  my  mother-in- 
law,  must  again  go  ai'ound  and  invite  your  neighbors,  telling  them 
as  you  go  from  place  to  place  that  your  son-in-law  is  about  to  take  a 
smoke,  and  that  he  will  then  disgorge  wampum  beads."  God- 
wennia"dani'.  the  mother-in-law.  replied  with  joy,  "  So  let  it  come 
to  pass,"  and  she  went  forth  again  to  issue  invitations  to  her  neigh- 
bors, represented  by  small  sticks,  saying :  "  I  extend  to  you  hereby 
an  invitation  to  come  to  my  lodge.  I\Iy  son-in-law,  Ongwe'  Hafiges'- 
'ha',  is  going  to  smoke,  and  he  will  then  disgorge  wampum  beads." 
So  saying,  she  visited  all  her  neighbors,  and  then  she  returned  to  her 
own  home. 

Having  reached  home,  she  said  to  her  son-in-law,  "  In  a  .short  time 
the  people  will  have  assembled  here."  Shortly  after,  the  people  began 
to  come.  They  seated  themselves  in  the  lodge  and  became  very  (juiet. 
Then  the  old  woman,  Godwefinia"dani',  placing  a  bench  or  block  of 
wood  in  the  center  of  the  room,  called  to  her  son-in-law,  "  Oh,  my 
son-in-law,  Ongwe'  Hanges"ha',  come  hither."  At  this  he  came 
forth  from  the  place  wherein  the  "noble"  or  "down-fended"  maiden 
lived.  Seating  himself  on  the  block  provided  by  his  mother-in-law, 
he  threw  over  his  knee  the  entire  skin  of  a  woman.*'*  which  still  had 
the  head  affixed  to  it;  the  eyes  winked  and  moved  from  side  to  side. 
Ofigwe'  Hanges'*ha'  took  from  his  pouch  his  pipe  and  filled  it  with 
tobacco.  The  tobacco  which  he  used  was  a  mixture  of  native  to- 
bacco, hemlock  gum.  spicebush  bark,  and  red  willow  bark.*'*"  When 
he  placed  it  in  his  pipe  this  mixture  emitted  a-  very  pleasant  odor. 

Then  Ohgwe'  Haiiges"ha'  said  to  his  mother-in-law,  "  You  must 
spread  out  here  a  tanned  buckskin."  So  she  ha.stened  to  obey  his  in- 
structions and  spread  a  buckskin  on  the  ground  in  front  of  him  and 
between  his  feet  as  he  sat  on  the  block  of  wood.  In  explanation  of 
what  he  was  about  to  do,  he  said:  "Oh,  my  mother-in-law,  all  the 
wampum  that  shall  fall  on  this  buckskin  shall  belong  to  you;  but  the 
wampum  that  shall  fall  away  from  this  skin  shall  be  for  prizes  to 
those  of  the  assembly  who  may  be  able  to  seize  it,  for  all  will  struggle 
to  obtain  some.  This  will  take  place  twice,  for  I  will  draw  into  me 
the  smoke  several  times.  The.fii'.st  time  that  I  draw  in  the  smoke  I 
will  disgorge  black  wampum  beads;  but  the  second  time  I  will  dis- 
gorge white  wampum  beads.     So  the  people  may  strive  to  obtain 


'h'ew;^]  legends  517 

i-oiiic  of  the  beads  which  fall  away  from  the  litickHkiii.  This  is  what 
will  take  ])laee."  After  a  inoiueiit's  deliberation  he  sai<l  to  the 
woman's  skin.  "Do  thou,  my  human  skin.  ]\g\it  niy  pipe;  the  fire 
is  yonder."  Thereupon  the  woman's  skin  brou<rlit  a  coal  from  the 
fire  and  ])lace(l  it  in  his  iiii)e  while  he  hcM  it  in  his  month.  Then  he 
drew  in  the  smoke  w  ith  the  sound  liiflct.  and  then  he  disfxoriied.  say- 
inir  Iliru'ic:  and  the  beads  in  falling;  made  the  soiuul  dii'.  His 
mother-in-law  took  up  a  lar<re  <|uantity  of  the  heads  from  the  buck- 
skin. But  for  those  beads  which  fell  away  from  the  buckskin  the 
j)eople  struggled  among  themselves.  In  the  strife  the  jjcople  created 
a  great  noise  and  uproar,  for  eveiyone  attempted  to  get  all  that  he 
possibly  could.  He  who  was  quick  was  able,  of  cour.se,  to  lay  hold 
of  the  greatest  (juantity,  and  the  slowest  could  obtain  but  a  few  of 
these  wampum  beads.  Ohgwe'  Hanges"ha'  said,  "  Now  this  time 
the  wampum  beads  w  ill  be  of  a  black  color."'  His  mother-in-law.  as 
was  the  custom  on  such  occasions,  spi-ead  another  liuckskin  on  the 
ground.  Then  he  drew  in  the  smoke  a  secoml  tiuu'  and  at  once  dis- 
gorged wampum  beads  which  were  entirely  black  in  color;  some  of 
these  fell  on  the  buckskin  and  some  away  from  it.  As  before,  the 
people  engaged  in  a  lively  contest  for  the  beads  which  fell  away  fi'om 
the  buckskin,  thus  ci'eating  a  great  uproar.  He  who  was  active 
secured  the  most  of  the  beads  in  these  contests.  Now  Ohgwe' 
Haiiges"ha'  said.  "This  affair  is  over  entirely,  and  all  people  must 
return  to  their  homes.''  At  this  all  the  i)eoi)le  departed  from  the 
lodge  of  Godwehnia'"dani'  and  went  to  their  several  homes. 

Things  remained  thus  for  a  long  time  and  the  couple  lived  (luietly 
together  as  husband  and  wife.  One  day  Ongwe"  Hariges"liii"  said 
to  his  mother-in-law  :  "  I  am  now  thinking  that  slie  who  lives  with  me 
and  I  will  return  to  the  jilace  where  my  uncle,  my  mother's  brother, 
dwells.  I  do  not  know  whether  or  not  he  is  still  alive,  and  ft)r  this 
reason  we  two  will  go  back  there.  Now,  my  mother-in-law,  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  what  I  am  thinking.  I  am  not  certain  in  my  mind 
that  you  would  be  willing  for  me  to  suggest  that  yon  and  my  old 
uncle  should  mutually  care  for  each  other.  You  two  are  fine-looking 
and  are  about  the  same  in  age  and  bodily  condition.  How  is  it? 
Will  you  be  willing  to  undertake  this  condition?''  To  this  the 
mother-in-law  answered,  "Oh.  my  son  I  indeed  your  mind  and 
thought  suit  me  well.  What  you  have  suggested  shall  come  to  pass 
as  you  have  said,  provided  your  uncle  is  still  in  good  liealth  and  alive 
when  we  shall  arrive  at  the  place  where  he  lives.  I  will  accompany 
you  two  home.  luy  daughters  will  remain  here  with  my  sons  and 
they  will  not  want  for  anything.''  80  the  next  morning  she  was 
fully  prepared  with  food  for  the  journey  to  the  former  home  of  her 
son-in-hnv,  and  Ohgwe'  Hanges''ha'  said  to  his  former  companions 


518  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENBS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

on  his  journey  homeward,  "Let  us  now  return  to  my  home;  and  we 
bid  you  good-by."  So  saying,  he  bade  farewell  to  his  brothers-in- 
law  and  sisters-in-law. 

Then  they  departed  on  their  long  journey,  and  the  bridegroom 
took  his  wife  and  his  mother-in-law  with  him.  They  encamped  on 
their  way  homeward  many  times.  As  soon  as  they  arrived  near  the 
lodge  of  the  young  man's  uncle,  Ongwe"  Hanges'iui'  said  to  his  two 
companions :  "  Stop  here  until  I  visit  the  lodge  of  my  home  to  make 
a  reconnoissance,  for  I  do  not  know  whether  my  uncle  is  yet  alive 
or  not.    I  will  return  soon." 

Thereupon  he  started  on  the  run  to  his  home.  Arriving  there,  he 
found  his  uncle  eating  his  midday  meal.  The  old  man  quickly  arose 
and  seized  the  young  man,  saying,  "  Now  hast  thou  returned  ?  Is  it 
thou,  my  nephew  ?  Art  thou  Ongwe'  Hanges"ha'  ?  "  The  nephew 
replied,  "  I  it  is.  Uncle."  "  Where  is  my  daughter-in-law  ?  "  a.sked 
the  old  man.  The  nephew  answered,  "  Oh,  my  uncle !  she  and  an- 
other halted  at  a  place  not  far  from  here,  while  I  came  here  to  make 
a  reconnoissance  to  learn  whether  you  were  still  alive  or  not.  I  am 
married  in  fact,  and  what  is  more  than  this,  I  have  brought  with 
me  my  mother-in-law.  They  two  are  very  fine-looking  women.  I 
have  thought  very  seriously  of  your  age  and  also  of  the  age  of  my 
mother-in-law,  and  you  two  seem  suitable  in  this  respect  one  for  the 
other.  .1  have  already  told  her  that  I  have  thought  well  of  having 
you  two  abide  together  as  husband  and  wife.  Oh,  my  uncle !  I 
have  now  said  to  you  what  I  intended  to  say.  My  mother-in-law  is 
\ery  thankful  to  me  for  my  kindness  in  this  matter  and  for  my 
desire  to  make  you  and  her  happy  and  contented.  Thus  have  I 
thought  about  this  matter.  Now  will  you  agree  to  what  I  have 
proposed  for  your  welfare  ?  "  Greatly  pleased,  the  uncle  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  my  nephew !  how  thankful  I  am  for  your  kind  effort  in  my 
behalf.  Let  me  dress  myself,  and  you  may  now  bring  the  woman." 
Delighted  with  the  reception  his  uncle  gave  the  marital  proposal, 
Oiigwe'  Hafiges''ha'  ran  back  to  the  place  where  the  two  women  were 
anxiously  awaiting  his  return.  On  arriving  there,  he  exclaimed : 
"  He  lives !  He  lives  and  is  in  the  best  of  health.  He  is  eating.  Let 
us  go  to  him.''     Thereupon  they  started  for  the  lodge. 

When  they  reached  there  they  found  the  old  man  dressed  and 
ready  to  receive  them.  As  they  entered  the  lodge  the  old  man,  tap- 
ping his  couch  several  times,  said  gently  to  the  mother-in-law, 
"  Here  you  may  abide."  She  came  forward  and  took  her  seat  beside 
him,  and  Ongwe'  Hanges"hti'  and  his  wife  seated  themselves  op- 
posite, putting  the  fireplace  between  them  as  was  the  custom  for 
families  to  do  in  the  ancient  time.  Then  the  old  man  said  to  his 
nephew  :  "  I  am  indeed  thankful  that  you  have  been  able  to  overcome 
difficulties  of  all  kinds  along  your  path  to  and  fro.    You  have  hero- 


If^l^j  LEGENDS  OlU 

iciillv  linivt'd  all.  Now.  you  must  hunt,  iind  inotlier  and  d;uij>;hter 
shall  live  in  contentment  and  peace." 

Sf)  Unijfwe*  IIan2;es"lKi'  .spent  his  time  in  hunting.  Day  after  day 
he  hunted.  He  knew  well  what  animals  to  kill.  Thus  it  came  to  i)aps 
in  the  ancient  time  that  tiiey  dwelt  together  in  peace  and  hatinony 
and  great  contentment. 

Tliis  is  the  end  of  the  tale. 

110.     G.V.JIHSO.NDIS,    THE    AmULET-IIITTEK  *'" 
(a    I  K(iKND   OF   TIIK   ( O.NTKOI.   OK   THE   <;.\.\!i;    A.MM.M.S) 

\n  old  man  and  his  grandson,  who  was  very  small,  lived  together 
in  a  lodge  for  a  long  time,  during  wiiich  they  occupied  opposite  sides 
of  the  fire,  as  was  customary  among  their  people.  The  little  grand- 
son played  by  himself  on  his  side  of  the  fire,  rolling  about  in  the 
dust  and  ashes.  The  old  man  was  quite  anxious  at  times  about  the 
future  of  the  boy. 

There  came  a  time  when  the  old  man  saw  the  child  sitting  abtjut 
in  different  places  on  his  side  of  the  fire.  Finally  the  child  was 
surprised  to  heaT-  the  old  man  say  in  no  kindly  voice:  "You  will 
become  a  pitiable  object  if  vou  continue  in  this  way.  for  you  are 
very  small.  It  is  necessary  that  you  should  do  something  to  help 
yourself  and  provide  yourself  what  you  may  need.  A  bow  and  arrows 
are  perha])s  the  fir.st  of  your  needs."  So  saying,  the  old  man 
stai'ted  making  these  for  the  boy.  and  when  he  had  completed  this 
task  he  went  over  to  the  place  where  the  child  was  rolling  about 
in  the  dust.  Taking  him  in  his  arms,  he  said,  "  Yon  must  use  these 
in  this  way."  anrl  then  standing  the  child  on  the  ground,  he  said, 
"  You  must  learn  to  shoot  with  these."  Then,  grasping  one  of  the 
hands  of  the  child,  the  gr-andfather  ])laced  it  on  the  bow  in  the 
usual  position  for  shooting;  then  in  the  other  hand  he  placed  an 
arrow,  at  the  same  time  instructing  the  child  how  to  fit  the  two  to- 
gether in  jiroper  positions  for  shooting.  Then  the  old  man  himself 
drew  the  bowstring,  telling  tlie  little  gi'and.son.  "This  is  the  way 
vou  must  oi'dinarily  do.""  In  this  manner  he  instructed  his  giand- 
son  in  the  art  of  shooting  with  a  bow  and  arrow,  and  the  child  was 
not  long  in  learning  how  to  do  it.  .Vgain  he  told  him:  "That  is  the 
way  you  must  continue  to  do  it."" 

Afterward  the  old  man  drew  forth  his  bundle  of  trinkets  and 
treasures,  and  taking  therefrom  the  foot  of  a  raccoon  he  fasteiu'd 
it  to  a  stall,  which  he  set  U])righl  a  long  distance  away,  saying  to 
his  grandson :  "  You  must  shoot  at  this  continually,  and  whenc\er 
you  hit  it  you  must  say  '  (Tajih.sondis.'  This  you  must  say,  and  I 
shall  then  l(>arn  what  a  good  shot  you  are."  Now  the  child  did  in- 
deed follow  his  grandfather's  instructions. 


520  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ann.  82 

Finally  the  time  came  when  the  old  man  said  to  his  grandson:  "I 
will  now  free  you  from  my  tutelage  and  now  you  must  depend  on 
yourself.  Xo  matter  where  you  may  be  you  must  keep  saying  '  Ga- 
jihsondis "  whenever  you  may  hit  any  object — even  this  foot  of  the 
raccoon."  Therefore  the  old  man  paid  no  more  attention  to  the 
welfare  of  his  grandson.  The  latter  ran  around  at  pleasure  for  a 
long  time.  At  last  he  asked  his  grandfather  this  question :  "  My 
grandfather,  where  are  our  kinsmen?"  In  answering  him  the  old 
man  told  his  grandson  a  number  of  things.  Pointing  off  a  long 
distance  he  replied :  "  They  have  gone  far  away  to  a  place  where 
lives  a  great  beast.  It  is  impossible  for  anyone  to  reach  this  place 
in  seven  years."  Without  replying  the  youth  kept  on  playing,  as 
was  his  custom.  Some  time  after  while  at  play  he  arose  and,  going 
to  his  old  grandfather,  asked  "  What  is  the  exact  direction  of  that 
place  whither  our  kinsmen  have  gone? "  Going  out  of  the  lodge  and 
standing  beside  the  doorway  the  old  man  pointed  far  away  straight 
toward  the  place  where  their  relations  had  gone.  He  said:  "There 
in  that  distant  place  is  a  spring  of  water  in  which  lives  the  great 
beast,  and  in  that  place  all  our  former  kinsfolk  perished." 

The  j'outh  answered,  "  Now,  my  grandfather,  I  will  go  to  that 
place."  Very  early  the  next  morning,  it  is  said,  the  youth,  taking 
his  bow  and  arrows,  started  on  his  long  journey,  saying,  "  Oh,  my 
grandfather!  I  stait  now."  After  a  while  the  old  man  went  out  of 
the  lodge,  and.  standing  beside  the  doorway,  said,  "  Ku' ;  he  is  indeed 
going  a  very  long  waj'  off.  It  may  be  that  he  will  be  able  to  go 
there."    With  these  words  the  old  man  reentered  the  lodge. 

How  now  with  regard  to  the  youth?  Starting  at  a  slow  running 
gait,  finality  he  reached  a  place  which  his  grandfather  had  indicated 
to  him,  and  after  going  over  a  mountain  which  was  on  his  way  he 
came  to  a  lake,  in  the  middle  of  which  he  was  surprised  to  see  float- 
ing about  a  white  waterfowl.  Taking  aim.  the  youth  at  once  shot  at 
this  strange  fowl;  the  shot  went  so  true  that  the  fowl  merely  fell 
on  its  side  dead.  Pulling  hairs  f:-om  his  head,  the  youth  spliced  them 
together  until  he  had  produced  a  cord  sufficiently  long  for  his  pur- 
pose. This  he  cast  out  on  the  lake,  and  by  this  means  was  enabled 
to  draw  the  body  of  the  waterfowl  to  shore.  At  once  he  rushed 
up  to  the  body  and  fell  upon  it.  Soon  he  had  prepared  it  so  it  could 
be  borne  on  his  back  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap.  Tiien  the 
youth  started  for  home,  and  when  he  arrived  at  his  gi'andfather's 
lodge  he  said.  "  There  now.    I  bring  a  very  large  animal." 

After  looking  at  the  body,  his  grandfather  said,  in  reply :  "  Oh ! 
this  is  not  the  right  thing  on  wliich  to  be  avenged."  The  youth 
answered,  "  So  be  it,  then.  I  will  take  it  back  to  its  home,  as  it 
seems  proper  to  do.''  Having  packed  the  body  by  means  of  the 
forehead  strap,  he  started  for  the  place  whence  he  had  brought  the 


CUKTIN, 
HEWITT 


]  LEGENDS  521 


irreat  luiiiiuil.  On  ;in'i\  iiijr  iit  the  slioi-o  of  tlie  lnko  lip  cast  the  aniiuiil 
down  on  the  ground,  sayinpr.  "As  to  you.  I  sliall  leave  you  here,  and. 
furthermore,  you  must  come  to  life  ajrain."  Then,  starting  for  home, 
the  youth  was  not  lonir  in  i-eacliin<r  the  lodsre  of  his  grandfather,  to 
whom  he  said:  '"  I  ha\e  now  released  the  animal."  He  did  not  delay 
in  i-esuming  his  sjxirts  anmnd  the  Kiilge,  and  continued  them  for 
a  time. 

One  day  when  weary  with  ]ilaying  he  went  up  to  his  old  grand- 
father, with  the  words,  '■('onie  now.  just  tell  me  the  exact  direction 
to  take  to  go  to  the  lair  of  the  great  animal  of  which  3011  have  told 
me  such  awful  things."  The  old  nian  re|ilied.  "■ -So  he  it."  (ioing 
out  of  the  lodge  he  stood  there.  As  soon  as  he  had  taken  a  suitahle 
position  he  said  to  the  youth:  "Here  it  is;  it  is  just  here.  As  soon 
as  you  start  and  ha\(>  gone  iiuite  a  distance,  then  verily  you  will 
see  that  this  j)athway  has  the  habit  of  shrinking  back.*'"  This  will 
be  taking  place  contiinially,  and  this  is  the  reason  that  it  will  n>(iuire 
seven  years  to  reach  the  place  where  is  the  s})ring  which  you  are 
seeking.  This  path  is  one.  too,  of  great  danger  and  dilliculty.  for 
in  that  place  dwell  female  beings  which  feed  on  liiunan  llesh,  and  it 
is  they  who  devoured  all  the  kinsfolk  we  had." 

After  hearing  this  and  follow  ing  with  his  eyes  the  direction  .shown 
by  his  old  grandfathei'.  the  youth  started.  .V  fter  the  lapse  of  .some 
time  the  old  man  again  said.  "Let  me  see  where  he  is."  (ioing  out 
of  the  lodge,  he  stood  htoking  around  for, his  grandson,  whom  he 
finally  saw  disajipearing  in  the  distance.  He  mused  with  himself, 
saying:  "It  is  certain.  1  beliexe.  that  he  will  lie  able  to  accom|)lish 
the  feat  of  reaching  the  place  wheri'  are  the  pitfalls  set  by  the 
eaters  of  human  flesh." 

When  the  youth  arri\ed  at  the  spring,  he  was  indeed  very  thirsty. 
At  once  he  decided  to  inspect  the  jdace  in  order  to  see  how  true  was 
the  saying  of  his  grandfather  that  there  lived  in  the  spring  a  nmn- 
ber  of  female  beings  (women?)  possessed  of  great  orenda  (magic 
power).  ']"hereu])(in  the  youth  deliberately  put  his  feet  into  tin; 
water.  As  .soon  as  he  flid  so  the  hideous  being  co\ered  witli  scales 
c|uickly  darted  forward  and  snap])ed  off  his  leg  far  above  the  kru>e. 
'I'he  youth  merely  laughed,  saying,  Ila'hu'.  and  wondered  what 
wotdd  ha|)pen  if  he  placed  his  other  leg  in  the  water.  On  doing  s(>. 
the  being  at  once  snapped  off  this  leg  also:  but  the  youth  merely 
laughed  and  said  nothing.  Finally  he  said,  ""Let  it  be  .so.  Now 
l>erhaps  I  will  fish  with  a  line."  This  he  proceeded  to  do.  For  the 
piirjiose  of  carrying  out  his  design  he  removed  portions  of  flesh  from 
his  thighs,  which  he  fastened  on  his  hook.  Just  as  soon  as  he  cast 
the  hodk  into  the  water  the  great  being  seized  it.  whereu|)on  the 
youth  pidled  his  adversary  out  of  the  water  and  cast  its  body  aside. 
It  is  sai<l  that  now  the  great  being  began  to  whimper.  "  My  graiulson. 


522  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

put  me  back  into  the  water  again."  But  the  youth,  paying  no  at- 
tention to  what  it  was  asking  him  to  do,  again  baited  his  hook  and 
cast  it  into  the  waters.  At  once  it  was  seized  in  the  mouth  of  anotlier 
one  of  the  gi-eat  wizard  beings,  which  appeared  in  assumed  sliapes. 
and  immediately  the  youth  began  to  pull  on  his  line,  soon  landing 
another  of  his  adversaries.  This,  too,  like  the  other,  began  to 
whimper,  saying,  "My  grandson,  will  you  please  put  me  back  into 
the  water  ? "  The  youth  replied :  ''  I  have  no  legs.  You  have 
broken  off  my  legs."  At  this  the  two  beings  came  forward  and  began 
to  work  on  his  body.  And  the  youth  said  to  them  in  turn :  "  Do  you 
two  reset  my  legs.  You  see  that  I  can  not  do  it  mj'self."  So  the  two 
l)eings,  which  were  possessed  of  great  orenda,  obeying  his  instruc- 
tions, put  back  his  legs.  Xext  the  youth  kindled  a  great  fire,  and 
]ust  as  soon  as  this  was  burning  fiercely,  seizing  the  hair  of  the 
male  being,  he  cast  him  into  the  flames,  and  he  did  likewise  with  the 
body  of  the  female  being.  When  the  bodies  were  consumed  the  heads 
of  these  beings  exploded  and  out  of  them  flew  owls.*'^ 

Continuing  a  short  distance,  the  youth  found  the  lair  of  pantliers 
which  were  fierce  in  aspect,  for  they  were  fighting.  Raising  his 
bow  and  arrow,  he  said  to  them,  "  Stop  your  anger,  you  two,  for 
the  place  where  you  are  belongs  to  me."' 

Going  on  a  short  distance  farther,  he  found  a  number  of  elk 
fighting  in  their  turn.  He  said  to  them  also,  "  Stop  fighting, 
you  two;"  and  they  did  stop  fighting  and  separated.  The  youth 
told  them,  too,  "  This  region  belongs  to  me." 

Then  there  arose  a  great  tumult  and  noise  among  the  animals 
of  all  kinds.  The  youth  saw  there  what  seemed  to  be  a  long  lodge, 
on  the  top  of  which  owls  were  seated:  these,  too,  were  making 
outcries,  saying  '"  Fli',  hi\  hf^  hi\  hi\  Awake !  a  male  human  being  is 
coming."  The  youth  now  watched  them,  and  he  was  surprised  to  find 
there  lying  down  the  body  of  some  one  who  much  resembled  his 
grandfather,  and  he  saw  also  everything  that  was  inside  the  lodge. 
Among  the  things  he  saw  was  a  kettle  of  corn  mush,  which  was 
boiling  over  the  fire.  "  I  have  found  something  which  is  perhaps 
good  to  the  taste." 

Entering  the  lodge,  he  went  to  the  farther  side  of  the  fire,  where- 
upon from  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire  a  white  deer  came  forth  and 
entered  the  bosom  of  the  old  man.  At  this  the  youth  started  out 
of  the  lodge,  and  at  once  everything  in  the  lodge  began  to  leave. 
The  breechclout  of  the  old  man  went  out,  and  the  boiling  mush,  too. 
started  out.  The  youth  had  gone  a  long  distance  before  the  old 
man  awoke,  exclaiming,  ''  P.shaw !  I  think  that  he  still  has  a  grand- 
son, that  old  man."  Straightening  himself  up,  he  said :  "  So  let  it  be. 
I  now  believe  that  I  also  will  start." 


CCRTI 
BE 


"^'^4]  LEGENDS  623 


Then  the  old  man  took  his  chib  from  its  usual  rcstinfr  l)lace,  the 
one  with  which  he  was  accustomed  to  fifiht.  and  pursuing  the  youth, 
soon  overtook  him,  as  was  to  be  expected.  Addressing  the  youth, 
lie  said.  "For  what  reason  did  you  rob  me  as  you  have  done?"  So 
saying,  he  struck  the  youth  a  heavy  blow,  causing  the  young  ni:in 
to  fall  over  in  an  unconscious  condition:  and  he  lay  where  he  fell. 

Thereupon  the  old  man  turned  back  homeward,  and  all  the  things 
that  had  started  out  also  returned  homeward.  As  he  walked  along 
the  old  man  restored  the  body  of  the  great  beast  and  all  other  things 
which  had  l)een  disturl)ed  by  the  youth  dui-ing  his  visit  to  iiim. 

Meanwhile  the  youth  regained  consciousness,  and.  realizing  his 
condition,  exclaimed,  "  H'm"',  my  head  does  certainly  jiain  me:  I 
believe  that  the  old  man  has  really  killed  me.  So  let  it  be.  T  tiiinii 
I  will  go  back,  perhaps,  to  the  lodge  of  the  oitl  man.''  When  he 
reached  the  lodge,  ho-vit.  the  owls  were  making  a  great  outcry : 
"Awake  you !  Now,  indeed,  the  male  human  being  is  again  oomiiig." 
At  this  the  youth  exclaimed.  "  Do  you  keep  quiet!  these  things,  here." 
Entering  again  the  lodge  by  stealth,  he  saw  there  the  war  club  rest- 
ing in  its  place,  the  club  with  which  the  old  man  did  his  lighting:  it 
was  full  of  nicks  from  hard  usage  in  combat.  Thereupon  the  youth 
said.  "Keep  thyself  still:  and  indeed,  you  must  give  me  assistance 
at  this  time.  We  will  awaken  tiie  old  man  to  his  deatii."  Again 
entering  the  lodge,  the  youtii  went  to  the  back  i)art  of  the  lodge, 
where  he  took  a  seat.  Again  tiie  very  small  white  deer  came  forth 
and  entered  his  bosom.  Tiien  he  aro.se  and  stood  there,  and  all 
the  things  on  tiie  inside  of  the  lodge  started  to  follow  him  out  of  it. 
Even  the  breechclout  of  the  old  man  lie  took  from  him. 

The  youth  had  gone  a  long  distance  before  tiie  old  man  again 
awoke.  Realizing  wiiat  had  taken  place,  the  latter  exclaimed. 
"  (iv(T' .  He  is  alive  again.  T  iielieve.  Now.  indeed,  he  shall  sutler 
for  this.  I  will  do  him  harm  in  many  places."  Then  the  old  man 
started,  after  which  he  exclaimed,  '■'■Kwif!  I  have  forgotten  that. 
I  have  not  painted  my  face,  as  is  the  custom,  for  I  believe  that  I 
shall  have  to  figlit  with  one  who  is,  it  seems,  a  brave  man.  tiiis 
youth."  Having  poured  dead  coals  into  a  basket,  he  carried  them 
to  a  mortar  standing  near  by,  in  which  he  began  to  pound  the  charred 
coals.  He  made  a  great  noise  in  doing  this,  the  blows  with  the  [lestie 
sounding  "r/wwi,  dum,  du7n."  This  action  of  the  old  man  caused  the 
youtli  to  grow  weak  and  faint  as  he  walked  along. 

When  tlie  old  man  had  fiuisiied  pounding  the  coals  lie  painted  his 
face.  Then  he  started  in  pursuit  of  the  youth,  saying.  "  1  am  fol- 
lowing you."  The  old  man  finally  overtook  the  youth,  whereupon 
he  said  to  him.  "  I..ook  here,  my  grandson  I  I  am  going  to  kill  you." 
The  youth  replied.  "  So  let  it  be."  at  the  .same  time  striking  the  old 
man  a  blow  with  the  war  club.     Then  they  fought,  and  beinc  evenly 


524  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [etii.  ans.  32 

matched,  the  struggle  was  fierce.  Thus  the  battle  went  on  for  some 
time  until  at  last  the  youth  succeeded  in  killing  his  grandfather. 
Then  he  started  for  home,  followed  by  all  the  things  that  were  in 
the  lodge  of  the  old  man. 

The  youth  did  not  realize  the  time  it  took  him  to  arrive  at  the 
lodge  of  his  living  grandfather,  who  exclaimed:  "  You  certainly  have 
brought  back  home  our  great  beast.  How  did  you  accomplish  it? 
Was  the  old  man  willing  for  you  to  bring  it  home?  Was  he  willing, 
too,  for  you  to  take  all  the  things  which  you  have  brought  back 
with  you?"  The  youth  replied,  ''I  killed  the  old  wizard."  At  this 
his  grandfather  began  to  weep,  saying,  "  Now,  indeed,  you  have 
killed  him  who.  when  living,  was  my  brother."  AVithout  making 
any  reply,  the  youth  prepared  to  lie  down  for  the  night.  The  two 
occupied  the  same  side  of  the  fire. 

As  soon  as  the  youth  fell  asleep,  the  old  man,  his  grandfather, 
arose  and,  addressing  the  sleeping  3'outh,  said,  "  I  suppose  that  I 
must  now  kill  you,  wicked  man,  in  your  turn."  Taking  up  his  bow 
and  three  arrows  and.  going  over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire, 
he  shot  three  arrows  into  the  back  of  the  youth,  his  grandson,  who 
was  asleep.  Then  the  old  man  returned  to  his  bed  and  laid  himself 
down  again.  Some  time  after  this  the  youth  awoke  and  said, 
"A'u'm".'  indeed  my  back  does  give  me  much  pain."  On  examining 
it  with  his  hands,  he  was  surprised  to  find  three  arrows  sticking  in  it. 
At  this  discovery  he  exclaimed,  "  Gfi'' !  now,  I  suppose,  I  must  depart 
from  this  place,  for  it  seems  that  my  grandfather  has  killed  me.  So 
be  it  then.  I  Mill  now  go  far  away."  He  started  at  once  on  his 
journey,  and  all  the  things  which  he  had  taken  from  his  dead 
grandfather  went  with  him — his  grandfather's  breechclout  and  also 
the  miish — these  all  went  along.  As  soon  as  the  old  man  saw  that 
these  things  started  to  leave,  he  began  to  weep.  .So  the  youth  left  his 
grandfather. 

When  the  youth  had  gone  a  long  distance  from  his  home,  he  was 
surprised  to  find  a  village  of  people.  Leaving  his  slaves  and  domes- 
tics near  the  village,  he  went  to  the  first  lodge,  where  he  visited.  He 
found  in  this  lodge  a  young  man  who  'csei.ibled  himself  very  closely 
in  age.  size,  and  manners.  It  was  soon  customary  for  them  to  go 
around  together.  It  is  said  that  they  two  kept  company  with  each 
other  wherever  they  went.  P'inally  the  youth  from  the  village  said, 
"A'w',  game  is  indeed  very  scarce.  Where  may  be  the  game  ani- 
mals? Perhaps  they  have  gone  far  away  to  seek  subsistence.  Pos- 
sibly they  have  gone  to  the  place  where  dwells  the  great  beast."  In 
reply,  the  visiting  youth  said  to  his  friend,  "  I  am,  it  is  known, 
called  the  great  beast."  The  other  youth  answered,  ".la,  it  is  true. 
So  be  it.  I  will  now  show  you  where  abide  my  domestic  (game) 
animals." 


CCRT 
HEW 


I'^lf]  LEGENDS  525 


Then  the  two  youtlis  departed  I'lom  tlic  place  and  at  la^t  caiiie  to 
the  spot  wheif  dwell   tlie  fxieal  heast,  tlie  jjrototype  of  all  others. 

The  youth  fioiii  the  \ina<re  now  said  to  liis  friend:  ■"  1  will  now 
give  up  all  the  animals  over  which  I  have  eontiul.  that  they  may 
go  over  the  whole  earth  and  dwell  in  !' n>edom :  that  they  may 
increase  and  multiply  at  theii-  will  and  go  and  come  as  seems  good 
to  them.  Then  the  noises  made  by  all  the  animals  became  great  in 
the  world. 

This  is  the  story. 

111.  Tin:  Lkokm)  of  IIoxenhineh  and  TTis  Yoitnoek  15i;oTiir.R.s 

In  times  long  past  Iloneidiineh  and  his  younger-  lirothei's  dwelt  in 
a  lodge  togt'ther;  the  lodge  was  constinicted  of  iiarh  and  was  very 
long,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country.  There  wei'c  three  lii-cs 
occupying  the  place  provided  for  fire  along  the  midway  of  the  lodge. 

These  brothers  dwelt  thus  together  for  a  long  time  in  this  long 
lodge.  It  was  their  custom  to  go  out  into  the  forests  daily  to  hunt 
game  animals,  and  every  evening  thosi'  who  had  gone  out  that  day 
to  hunt  retui-ned,  hearing  each  his  burden  of  venison  or  other  He.sh. 
which  would  be  cast  down  in  the  middle  of  the  flooi-  s]iace  of  the 
lodge.  It  was  usually  dressed  when  jiacked  for  cai-rying;  this  was 
tlone  for  convenience.  Then  one  of  the  brothers  who  had  not  been 
out  hunting  would  imiiack  the  bundle  and  proceetl  at  once  to  cut 
up  the  meats  and  to  hang  them  \ip  for  drying  all  along  the  sides  of 
the  lodge.  This  was  the  daily  routine  of  these  hunters  of  the  lodge 
of  Honeidiineh.  Thus  they  tra\cled  nnich  in  many  places  in  the 
forests. 

At  times,  when  all  but  the  youngest  brother,  who  was  still  verv 
small,  started  out  to  hunt,  one  of  the  ehh'r  brothers  would  produce 
the  foot  of  a  raccoon,  and  throwing  it  to  the  end  of  the  lodge,  he 
woidd  say  to  the  youngest  brother.  "Here!  This  is  something  with 
which  you  can  auui.se  yourseli."  Then,  when  he  would  be  ready  to 
start  he  would  scatter  ashes  around  the  doorway  in  such  manner 
that  no  person  or  thing  could  enter  the  lodge  without  leaving  tell- 
tale tracks  to  betray  the  intruder.  Afterward  he  would  say  to  tin- 
small  boy.  "Oh,  youngest  brother  I  ^'ou  must  not  lea\e  the  lodge: 
you  must  not  go  outside  of  it."  So  it  was  that  this  youngest  brothei- 
never  went  outside  of  the  lodge  and  did  not  know  what  the  light  of 
outdoors  was  like.  The  name  of  this  boy  was  Little  Burnt  Relly."'* 
The  youngster  amused  himself  daily  by  tossing  up  the  raccoon's 
foot  and  shooting  at  it  while  it  was  in  the  air.  It  is  said  that  he 
never  missed  the  foot,  for  he  had  become  an  expert  bowman  from 
his  daily  practice.    .So  the  days  went  by  for  some  time. 

Then  there  came  a  day  when  the  Honenhineh  returned  from  hunt- 
ing without   bi'inging  back  anything  in   the   way   of  game,  but  the 


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

other  brothers  returned,  bringing  large  packs  of  venison  and  other 
meats  and  furs  and  skins.  As  each  brother  returned  he  saw  the 
eldest  brother  Honenhineh  lying  on  his  couch  in  silence,  but  not  one 
of  them  paid  any  further  attention  to  him,  for  they  had  returned 
with  heavy  packs  while  he  had  brought  back  nothing.  Remaining 
thus  for  some  time,  Honenhineh  finally  arose  and  unpacked  the 
'  packs  of  his  brothers  and  hung  up  the  quarters  of  venison  and 
bear's  meat  and  the  flesh  of  other  animals  to  dry,  and  he  hung  up  also 
the  skins  and  furs  properly  prepared  to  dry — some  to  be  made  into 
buckskin  and  others  into  furs  for  robes  and  other  useful  articles. 

This  state  of  affairs  in  the  lodge  continued  for  many  days  and 
nights,  and  Honenhineh  continued  to  fast  rigorously.  At  last  one 
evening  one  of  his  younger  brothers  said  to  him,  "  Oh,  elder  brother ! 
s^ou  should  take  some  food."  But  Honenhineh  replied :  "  No.  I  will 
not  do  so  now.  Do  you  help  yourselves  and  take  what  food  you  may 
need.  In  a  short  time  I  myself  shall  take  some  food.  There  has  come 
a  change  in  the  manner  of  my  life.  The  land  over  which  I  hunted 
has  become  deserted  of  all  life.  Tomorrow  I  shall  start  from  here, 
going  in  a  northerly  direction  this  time." 

So,  without  breaking  his  fast,  Honenhineh  lay  down  on  his  couch 
and  his  brothers  retired  for  the  night.  But  late  at  night  Honenhineh 
arose  and,  going  to  the  fire,  he  gathered  together  the  embers  and 
firebrands  to  stir  up  the  flames,  close  beside  which,  it  is  said,  lay 
Little  Burnt  Belly.  Honenhineh  having  stirred  up  the  fire,  the 
rising  flames  caused  many  sparks  to  fall  on  the  uncovered  legs  of 
Little  Burnt  Belly,  who  passively  bore  the  pain.  The  elder  brother, 
after  watching  tlie  effect  of  the  sparks,  finally  said,  ''  Oh  I  my 
younger  brother  is  \'ery  sleepy."  But  in  this  he  was  deceived,  for 
his  younger  brother,  having  made  a  small  aperture  in  the  skin  with 
which  he  was  covered,  was  watching  all  that  he  was  doing.  It  is 
said  that  the  skin  was  that  of  an  old  she-bear.  Thus  deceived,  the 
elder  brother  prepared  some  food  for  himself  and  ate  what  he  wanted 
of  it.  While  watching  him  the  youngest  brother  fell  asleep.  In  the 
morning  the  youngest  brother  arose  after  his  brothers  had  gone  out 
on  their  hunting  trips,  and  was  very  anxiously  watching  for  the 
pro])osed  departure  of  his  brother  Honenhineh  after  his  long  fast. 
When  he  Iiad  made  all  his  preparations  he  said  to  his  _youngest 
brother.  ""  Xow  I  have  stai'ted,"  adding.  "  Do  not.  my  l)rother,  go 
outside  of  this  lodge."  Then,  taking  out  of  his  pouch  suddenly  a 
l)ear's  foot  and  casting  it  into  the  middle  of  the  lodge,  he  said, 
■  Here !  Thou  shalt  amuse  thyself  with  this  object  by  using  it  as  a 
target  continuously."  On  going  out  of  tlie  lodge,  he  scattered  ashes 
all  about  the  entrance  .so  that  nothing  could  enter  without  disturbing 
the  ashes  and  so  showing  what  it  was  that  entered  the  lodge.  On 
starting  away,  he  said  to  his  youngest  brother,  "  For  this  journey  I 


"I"yn4]  LEGENDS  527 

;uu  poinp  to\v;ird  tlic  north  to  limit."'  So  siiyiiig.  lie  departed  frum 
the  lodge. 

llonenhineh  kept  on  his  noi-(hward  course  for  a  long  time.  When 
the  (hiy  was-  past  tiie  meridian,  on  l()okin<r  ahead  he  saw  what  ap- 
peared to  him  a  number  of  clearings.  When  he  emerged  from  the 
forest  into  these  clearings  he  stopped  and  looked  around:  tiicn  lie 
walked  along  slowly  for  some  time. 

Ahead  of  him  a  great  deep  gorge  or  valley  yawned. 

Scarcely  had  he  taken  a  good  look  at  this  gorge  when  he  heard 
in  the  distance  an  ominous  tapping  on  a  tree  and  tiie  voice  of  a  man 
singing:  "It  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  inc.  A  hiiiiiaii  being  is  walking 
along  on  the  farther  side  of  the  valley."  Somewhat  surjirised, 
llonenhineh  exclaimed:  "  Wu"  '  A  man  has  discovered  me.  1  supjjose 
that  he  has  treed  a  bear.  Well,  so  be  it:  I  will  go  thither."  So  say- 
ing, he  started  down  into  the  valley  on  a  brisk  run.  As  he  ran  along 
he  came  to  a  ridge,  or  shelf,  leading  into  the  valley,  and  he  was 
startled  by  seeing  pieces  of  bark  fall  all  about  him  se\ei-al  times. 
Stopping  and  raising  his  head  to  look  up  into  a  tree  standing  in  front 
of  him,  he  saw  a  flicker,  or  yellowhanimer.  clinging  to  the  ti-ee  trunk 
far  above  the  ground,  looking  at  him.  As  he  looked  at  the  flicker  it 
began  to  .smile  at  him  and  audibly  said.  "He  who  has  the  bow  is 
well  known  to  be  a  fairly  liad  shot,"  and  continued  to  smile  at  him. 
llonenhineh  at  once  strung  his  bow  and  shot  an  arrow  at  this  smiling 
yellowhammer.  l)ut  the  arrow  flew  wide  of  the  mark,  sticking  harm- 
lessly into  the  tree  trunk.  He  shot  all  his  arrows  away  in  this  man- 
ner without  disconcerting  the  yellowhammei'  in  any  way. 

Withdrawing  a  short  distance.  llonenhineh  broke  his  bow  and 
threw  away  the  pieces.  Then  he  said:  ".So  be  it.  Let  me  pass  on  in 
my  way  yonder."  Tie  continued  onward  until  he  reached  the  bottom 
of  the  valley,  when  he  stopped  to  look  around;  ahead  of  him  he  saw 
a  lodge  out  of  which  arose  smoke.  He  resolved  at  once  to  go  up  to 
the  lodge  and  started  towaid  it.  (Joing  along  .slowly,  he  finally 
leached  the  side  of  the  lodge,  where  he  stood  still.  But  he  had  not 
come  to  a  halt  before  he  heard  from  within  the  lodge  the  voice  of  a 
man  saying  to  him:  "My  grandson,  thou  hast  visited  my  lodge: 
so  come  in.""  Honenhineh.  at  once  obeying  the  summons,  entered  the 
lodge. 

On  Iroking  around,  he  saw  before  him  a  young  maiden  seated, 
who  was  engaged  in  w(>aviiig  a  [lack  strap  from  the  .strands  of  slip- 
pery-elm bark  ]irei)ared  for  iliis  pur|)Ose.  The  man  of  the  lodge 
said  to  the  maiden.  "Do  thou  make  room  on  thy  mat  for  the  man 
who  has  entered  our  lodge,  for  you  and  he  do  now  become  hu.sband 
and  wife.""  ('om])lyiTig  with  this  request,  the  young  maiden  made 
niiim  on  her  mat  for  llonenhineh  to  sit  beside  her.  ■    ■ 


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

Then  the  elderly  nuiu  said  to  her,  "My  granddaughter,  prepare 
some  food  and  set  it  before  him  who  has  entered  our  lodge,  for  he  is 
probably  hungry.  With  dried  green  corn  as  it  cooks  in  the  pot  you 
must  mix  dried  venison  pounded  fine,  and*  into  this  mixture  you 
must  put  a  sufficient  quantity  of  maple  sugar  and  a  quantity  of  bear's 
grease  or  fat,  to  make  the  whole  savory  and  appetizing."  The  old 
man's  granddaughter  at  once  obeyed,  and  after  kindling  the  fire  to 
make  it  burn  briskly,  she  set  a  pot  of  water  over  it  containing  a 
quantity  of  dried  sweet  green  corn.  Bringing  maple  sugar  from  her 
store  in  a  bark  case,  she  put  it  into  the  pot  with  the  corn.  Then, 
procuring  the  dried  venison  and  the  bear's  grease,  having  pounded 
them  fine,  she  put  these  ingredients  also  in  the  pot  to  cook  with  the 
other  things.  When  she  found  that  the  corn  soup  was  cooked  she 
removed  the  pot  from  the  fire  and  set  it  aside  to  permit  the  contents 
to  cool.  AVhen  it  was  sufficiently  cooled  the  young  maiden,  taking 
up  a  portion  of  the  soup  with  a  ladle,  placed  it  in  a  bark  bowl  and, 
setting  it  before  Honenhineh,  said  to  him,  "  Take  this  and  eat  it. 
I  have  prepared  it  for  you."  Honenhineh.  being  (juite  hungry,  will- 
ingly ate  what  was  set  before  him. 

It  was  not  long  after  Honenhineh  had  finished  eating  that  night 
came.  Before  the  evening  was  far  advanced  the  old  man  said,  '"  Let 
us  now  retire  for  the  night.  Our  guest  has  come  here  tired  out  in 
all  ijrobability,  for  he  has  traveled  a  long  distance."  So  they  lay 
down  for  the  night.  Then  the  old  man  said,  "  My  granddaughter, 
let  me  tell  my  story,"  and  he  began  to  sing,  "  It  is  said  that  there 
were  eight  brothers  who  lived  in  a  lodge."  Tliis  was  the  topic  of 
the  story  which  he  chanted  tJiree  times. 

After  waiting  a  few  moments  he  said  in  a  stage  whisper  to  the 
sleeping  visitor,  "My  grandson,  are  you  listening  to  my  story?" 
The  only  reply  he  received  was  the  loud  snoring  of  the  guest.  Pres- 
ently the  old  man  exclaimed,  "The  game  animals  are  just  toying 
with  me.  Why,  one  has  even  come  into  my  lodge  (to  show  its  con- 
tempt for  me)."  So  saying,  the  old  man  arose  and  took  down  his 
war  club  from  its  resting  place,  and  approaching  the  sleeping  visitor, 
he  killed  him  with  blows  on  the  head.  Then,  replacing  his  club. 
lie  got  out  a  huge  clay  pot,  which  he  set  over  the  fire  after  placing 
some  water  in  it.  Next  he  quartered  the  body  of  his  victim  and 
placed  all  the  pieces  in  the  pot  to  cook.  AVhiJe  engaged  in  this  grue- 
some work  he  kept  saying,  "  I  still  can  deal  with  the  game  animals 
which  visit  my  lodge  in  my  approved  way,  and  so  I  am  still  able 
to  eat  the  flesh  of  the  most  rare  game  animals." 

In  the  meantime,  when  night  came  on  the  lodge  of  Hohenhineh 
and  his  younger  brothers,  the  brothers  returned  one  by  one  until  all 
were  there  except  the  eldest,  Honenhineh,  who  of  course  did  not  re- 


CURTI 
HEWITT 


^]  LEGENDS  529 


turn.  His  iibsoiice  was  duly  luitod.  The  brother  next  in  age  :^ai(l, 
"I  met  iiini  just  this  side  of  the  (ireut  Valley."  The  following 
morning  the  brother  next  in  age  to  Ilonenhineh  started  out  on  his 
brother's  trail  to  seek  for  him.  lie  had  gone  along  for  some  time 
when  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  tracks  of  his  brother,  which  he  at 
once  followed.  IJefore  long  he  saw  ahead  of  him  light  through  the 
trees  from  clearings  in  the  forest,  and  he  found  also  indis])utnl)le 
evidence  that  his  hiotiier  had  stood  there.  So  he  started  forward 
slowly  and  finally  came  to  the  toj)  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  (ireat 
N'alley,  where  he  stood  still  for  a  moment.  While  standing  tliere  he 
heard  the  sound  of  a  i)low  struck  by  a  war  club  on  the  oppcjsite  side 
of  the  valley,  and  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  singing,  "  I  am  indeed 
fortunate,  for  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley  a  human  being  walks 
along."  After  thinking  a  few  moments,  lie  exclaimed:  "Pshaw! 
This  is  all  right.  There  is  where  my  elder  brother  is  moving  about 
from  place  to  place.  Perhaps  lie  has  treed  some  animal  or  has  fo\ind 
an  animal  in  its  lair.  It  niu.st  lie  a  bear,  I  thiidv.  So  be  it;  1  shall 
go  thither." 

In  pursuance  of  his  resolution,  he  resumed  his  ljr()ther"s  trail  and 
descended  into  the  valley  until  he  came  to  a  bench,  or  terrace,  where 
he  stopped  for  a  moment.  Here  he  was  surj)rised  to  see  pieces  of 
bark  fall  several  times  around  him.  Looking  up  into  a  tree  near  by, 
he  saw  clinging  to  the  trunk  far  above  the  ground  a  small  tlicker, 
or  yellowhammer.  The  bird  smiled  at  him.  exclaiming,  "  He  has  a 
bow  in  his  hand  just  as  if  he  could  use  it,  for  it  is  well  known  that 
he  is  quite  a  poor  marksnuxn."  At  this  the  young  nuiil  at  once  strung 
his  bow  and  shot  an  arrow  at  the  bird,  whereupon  he  was  surprised 
to  see  the  arrows  of  Ids  brother  stuck  in  the  tree.  His  first  shot 
missed  the  bird,  as  did  all  the  others.  When  all  his  arrows  had  been 
shot  away,  stuck  fast  in  tlie  tree  top,  he  Ijroke  his  bow  antl  ca.st  it 
away.  Now,  lie  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  the  pieces  of  his  bow 
fall  beside  those  of  his  brother's  bow.  While  he  was  shooting  at 
the  bird,  it  merely  smiled  and  said,  "It  is  curious  that  one  who  is  a 
poor  marksman  generally  goes  about  with  a  bow  and  arrows,"  and  it 
was  only  when  lie  had  lost  all  his  arrows  that  he  drew  aside  in  disgust 
and  destroyed  his  bow  as  a  token  that  he  did  not  care  about  what 
had  hai)pened  to  him.  After  casting  away  his  bow  the  young' man 
exclaimed:  "Pshaw!  I  will  go  on  farther,  for  I  now  hear  my 
brother  singing  in  the  distance."  for  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man 
singing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Great  Valley. 

.Staiting  on   a    run    down    into   tiie    xallcy.   he    had    not    gone    far 

before  he  saw  aiiead  of  iiim  a  lield.     When  he  reached  the  border 

of  this  he  stood  there  a  nuunent,  but  .seeing  in  the  di.stance  a  lodge 

and  smoke  is,sinng  from  it,  he  exclaimed:  "So  be  it.     Let   nie  go 

94615°— 16 34 


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

to  tliat  lodge  to  see  what  I  may  find.  My  elder  brother  has  gone 
tliei'e." 

When  he  reached  the  lodge  the  young  man  came  to  a  halt,  but  he 
had  no  sooner  done  so  than  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  inside  say 
to  him:  '"Oil.  my  grandson!  come  in;  you  have  visited  my  lodge  at 
this  time."  Accepting  this  challenge,  the  young  man  entered,  where- 
upon the  old  man  said  to  him:  "  I  am  thankful  that  you  have  novp 
paid  our  (two)  lodge  a  visit."'  In  front  of  him  the  young  man  saw 
a  young  maiden  seated  on  a  couch,  weaving  a  forehead  pack  strap 
from  slippery-elm-bark  fiber.  Then  the  old  man  said  to  her:  "Make 
room  on  ytnir  mat  for  our  visitor,  for  you  and  he  are  to  become 
husband  and  wife.  I  am  so  delighted  by  this  visit,  for  we  two  arc 
to  be  pitied,  living  alone  in  this  lodge,  I  and  my  granddaughter." 
Obeying  her  grandfather,  the  young  maiden  made  room  on  her  mat 
for  the  young  man.  Next  the  old  man  said  to  the  young  man: 
"  You  have  come  here  looking  for  your  elder  brother,  Honenhineh. 
He  passed  here.  Yonder,  not  far  away,  stands  another  lodge.  There 
is  where  yovir  brother  has  gone;  he  will  return  soon,  I  think."  Turn- 
ing to  his  granddaughter,  the  old  man  said :  "  Oh,  granddaughter ! 
prepare  food  for  our  visitor;  he  is  perhaps  hungry,  having  come  a 
long  distance.  You  must  pound  up  dried  green  sweet  corn  and 
dried  venison,  and  place  these  in  a  pot  to  cook,  to  make  corn  soup; 
and  you  must  put  into  the  pot  also  maple  sugar  and  bear's  grease. 
When  the  soup  is  cooked,  place  a  bowlful  before  our  visitor  and  let 
him  eat  his  fill." 

The  maiden  set  to  work  preparing  the  corn  soup,  as  she  had  been 
instructed  to  do.  First  she  pounded  up  dried  sweet  green  corn  and 
then  dried  venison.  Then,  having  placed  a  large  clay  pot  o\er  the 
fire  with  water  in  it,  she  put  in  the  dried  corn  and  venison,  which  soon 
began  to  cook.  Presently  she  added  maple  sugar  to  her  .soup.  While 
these  were  cooking,  the  old  man  got  for  her  some  bear's  grease, 
which  he  brought  to  her  in  a  bowl,  saying:  "Oh,  granddaughter, 
put  this  also  in  the  pot  of  soup."  When  the  soup  was  cooked,  the 
maiden  removed  the  pot  from  the  fire  and  the  contents  were  then 
placed  in  bark  bowls  to  cool.  When  ready,  the  young  woman  placed 
a  large  bowl  of  the  soup  before  the  young  man,  telling  him  to  eat 
his  fill.  When  he  had  eaten  what  was  set  before  him  he  thanked  the 
old  man,  his  "  grandfather,"  who  acknowledged  the  compliment  by 
saying,  "My  gvandson,  you  were  to  be  pitied,  for  you  were  very 
hungry  when  you  visited  my  lodge." 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  night  came.  Before  night  had 
fully  settled  down  the  old  man  said :  "  Let  us  retire  to  sleep.  Our 
visitor  has  come  to  us  very  tired,  I  suppose.  You  should  prepare 
a  separate  couch  of  bark.  I  am  very  anxious  concerning  the  prob- 
able return  of  his  elder  brother  tonight.     At  all  events,  I  suppose 


rvn 

HE 


wi'i^]  LEGENDS  531 


he  will  pi'diialily  return  liy  tnmorrow .""  ILivinix  said  this,  the  old 
man  lay  down,  sayiiip  to  the  yoiiufr  man  and  the  young  Avonian: 
"Do  ye  two  retire  to  sleep.  1  my  own  little  .--elf  am  asleep"  (i.e., 
lying  down  to  sleep). 

After  they  liad  all  retired  for  the  night  the  old  man  said  aloud, 
"Let  me  tell  a  tale.""  and  thereujjon  he  began  to  sing.  "They  (masc.) 
have  a  lodge  as  a  home,  it  is  said:  they  are  eight  in  number;  they  arc 
lost  (devoted  to  de.struction)."  lie  sang  this  song  through  throe 
times.  Now  the  young  man  began  to  snore  loudly,  for  he  had  fallen 
sound  asleep.  In  a  short  time  the  old  man  aro.se,  and  carefully  re- 
adjusting hLs  robe,  said:  "I  am  greatly  perturbed  in  my  mind.  A 
game  animal  has  come  into  my  lodge  on  a  visit."  Then  takitig  down 
his  war  club  and  approaching  his  sleeping  guest,  he  killed  him  by 
blows  on  the  head. 

(joing  to  a  corner  of  the  lodge,  he  obtained  there  a  great  clay  pot 
and.  after  putting  water  in  it,  he  set  it  over  the  fire.  Having  quar- 
tered the  body  of  his  victim,  he  put  it  into  the  pot  to  cook.  While 
he  was  engaged  in  this  gruesome  work  he  kept  saying,  "  There  is 
still  no  lack  of  power  to  do  things  in  my  manner  of  living,  for  I 
have  no  trouble  to  live.  Game  animals  habitually  come  to  my  lodge."' 
So  spake  the  old  man.  who  was  then  cooking  the  entire  body  of  a 
human  being,  and  was  happy.  (It  is  said  that  he  gave  to  his  grand- 
daughter the  flesh  of  leeches  to  eat  and  putrid  things  also.  She  was 
not  aware  of  what  she  was  eating,  for  he  had  hypnotized  her  to 
think  these  things  were  proper  and  good.  This  granddaughter  was 
a  prisoner  whom  he  had  taken  in  one  of  his  raids.  But  he  himself 
ate  human  flesh  in  his  lodge,  and  in  order  to  satisfy  his  unnatural 
appetite  he  was  engaged  in  killing  people  from  all  the  neighboring 
settlements;  this  conduct  agitated  the  entire  country  around.*") 

In  the  meanwhile  the  brothers  of  Honenhineh.  it  is  said,  were  not 
very  much  surprised  when  night  came  and  the  next  younger  brother 
hail  not  returned,  for  they  suspected  some  harm  had  befallen  both 
their  missing  brotheivs.  Then  the  eldest  of  the  remaining  brothers 
said.  ■■  Well,  it  is  now  for  me  to  go  to  find  my  brothers  who  ha\e  not 
returned  from  the  north."  So  in  tlie  morning  when  they  had  eaten 
their  morning  meal  he  started  out  alone  on  the  northward  trail  to 
seek  for  his  missing  iirothers.  After  ha\  ing  gone  some  distance  from 
the  lodge  he  found  the  tracks  of  the  eldest  of  the  two  brothers  and 
followed  their  lead. 

AMiile  running  along  he  suddenly  saw  ahead  of  him  the  light  in 
the  forest  from  clearings  near  by.  Keeping  on  his  course,  he  finally 
came  to  a  large  clearing  or  field,  where  he  stopped  to  look  around, 
because  the  tracks  of  his  two  l)r(ithers  led  him  to  this  point.  While 
examining  the  country  he  saw  in  the  distance  the  (ireat  \'alley,  and 
as  the  trail  led  thither  he  followed  it  until  he  came  to  the  brink  of 


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

the  valley,  where  he  stopped  again  to  view  the  country  around.  At 
this  point  he  heai-d  a  sound  coming  from  the  farther  side  of  the 
valley,  made  by  the  blows  of  a  club  on  a  dead  tree,  and  also  the  voice 
of  a  man  who  sang :  "  I  am  indeed  lucky.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
the  valley  there  is  a  human  being  going  along."'  This  song  was 
repeated  by  the  unknown  singer.  Thereupon  the  younger  brother 
of  Honenhinch  said  to  himself:  "It  is  strange  that  my  two  bi-others 
have  not  given  notice  of  this  thing.  It  indeed  seems  certain  that 
they  have  chased  a  liear  to  its  lair:  let  me,  then,  go  thither.'' 

So  the  young  man  started  on  a  run  down  the  slope  leading  into  the 
valley  along  the  trail  made  by  his  two  brothers.  Having  run  some 
distance,  he  suddenly  noticed  pieces  of  bark  falling  around  him. 
At  this  he  came  to  a  halt  and,  looking  up  into  a  tree  which  stood 
near,  saw  high  up  on  the  trunk  a  small  bird,  a  flicker  or  yellow- 
hammer,  now  clinging  to  the  tree  trunk,  and  now  flitting  from  place 
to  place.  As  he  raised  his  eyes  to  it  the  flicker,  smiling,  said,  "  Ho 
carries  a  bow  and  arrows  pretentiously  (as  if  he  knew  how  to  use 
them),  althougli  he  is  notoriously  a  very  bad  marksman."  Quickly 
stringing  his  bow  the  young  man  said  to  his  tormentor,  "Do  nut 
say  anything  more."  But  the  flicker  only  laughed,  saying,  "  There 
is  nowhere  on  this  whole  earth  among  the  inhabitants  a  person  li\ing 
who  has  the  ability  to  kill  me."'  The  young  man  i-eplied,  "  Be  care- 
ful of  thyself,"'  and  he  at  once  nocked  his  arrow.  The  flicker  be- 
came visibly  agitated  and  kept  glancing  at  the  young  man  furtively 
as  it  slowly  crept  around  the  tree  trunk.  Thereupon  the  young 
man  shot  at  it,  and  then  he  saw  not  far  from  the  spot  occupied  by 
the  flicker  the  two  shocks  of  arrows  which  belonged  to  his  two 
brothers.  The  aim  of  the  young  man  and  his  orenda  were  such 
that  the  ai'row  hit  its  mark,  becoming  fixed  in  the  l)ody  of  the  flicker, 
which  uttered  a  loud  wail  of  despair  and  fell  to  the  ground. 

The  young  man  did  not  withdraw  his  arrow,  but  took  it  up  with 
the  flicker's  body  transfixed  by  it  and  placed  it  on  his  shoulder,  thus 
to  carry  his  victim.  In  the  meantime  the  flicker  kept  saying,  "  You 
should  let  me  go  free  again.  I  am  doing  nothing  wrong."  But  the 
young  man  replied,  "  No.  I  will  not  let  you  go  free.  I  desire  to 
show  you  to  my  two  brothers."  With  these  words  he  resumed  his 
journey. 

He  had  not  gone  very  far  when  he  reached  a  clearing,  at  the 
border  of  which  he  stopped  to  look  around.  He  saw  at  some  distance 
a  lodge,  out  of  which  smoke  arose,  whereupon  he  said,  "  I  will  go 
thither  to  the  lodge.  My  two  elder  brothers  are  certainly  idling 
away  their  time,  for  I  believe  that  they  are  both  there  in  that  lodge." 
He  came  to  this  conclusion  because  he  noticed  that  the  tracks  of  his 
two  brothers  led  to  the  lodge.  Having  reached  the  side  of  the  lodge, 
he  came  to  a  halt.    He  had  no  sooner  stopped  walking  than  a  man's 


^7^-S]  LEGENDS  533 

voice  inside  challenpod  him.  suyiiifi:,  "Come,  my  pandson.  Thou 
Imst  come  to  visit  me  in  my  lotiire.''  On  entering,  the  j'outh  was 
greatly  surprised  to  see  before  him  a  fine-loolving  young  maiden, 
wiio  was  seated  on  her  coucli  weaving  a  i'oreliead  pack  strap  from 
the  jii-epared  filicis  of  slippery-elm  l)aik-.  The  old  man  said  to  his 
young  \isitor:  "It  lias  heeii.  inilccd.  a  very,  very  long  time- that  I 
have  been  looking  for  you  to  pay  me  a  visit.  I  have  been  saying 
tliat  a  great  hunter  is  on  his  way  here.  There  sits  my  grainldaughtfr 
wlioiu  you  arc  to  mai'ry.  (Jranddaughter,  move  along  on  your  Uial 
to  give  him  rooiri  to  sit  beside  you."  As  the  young  man  pas>-cti 
him  the  old  man  noticed  that  he  was  carrying  something  that  lie 
had  iiillcd.  and  hi'  (pnckly  arose,  saying:  "  (livc  me  ihe  body  that 
you  arc  carrying.  Tiiat  is  indeed  a  very  fine  game  animal  wliicli 
you  liaxc  !<illed  on  your  way  here."'  The  young  man  replied.  "  No. 
I  will  not  give  it  up  until  I  fii'st  sec  my  two  brothers."  To  this  the 
old  man  rejoined.  "They  passed  here,  and  so  they  will  iclurn  hei'e. 
])(>rhaps  very  soon."  Then,  turning  to  the  young  maiden,  he  added: 
"Prepare  some  iood  foi'  him.  lie  has  come  here  hungry.  peiiia])s. 
■^'ou  must  proiaire  a  (juantity  of  dried  green  sweet  corn,  which  you 
nnist  i)ound  in  a  mortal-,  and  also  di'icd  \enison.  which  lik'cwisc 
must  be  pounded  fine.  Set  a  pot  containing  water  oxer  the  fire,  and 
into  this  you  must  yuit  the  pouiuled  corn  and  venison,  adding  a 
quantity  (d'  maple  sugai".  dried  huckleberries,  and  lastly  bear's 
grease." 

The  young  woman  hastened  to  piepare  the  coi'n  sou]i  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  she  had  been  instructed  by  hei-  old  "  gi-andfathei-."  and 
it  was  not  long  Ixd'ori^  the  soup  was  cooked  and  ready  to  be  eaten. 
.\t  this  time  the  old  man  bi-onght  from  an  adjoining  room  a  bowl 
of  bear's  grease,  which  he  gave  to  the  young  woman,  who  ])ut  it  into 
tiie  pot  of  soup.  IIa\ing  done  this,  she  remoNcd  the  pot  from  tiie 
fire  and  set  it  where  the  contents  would  cool.  PresiMitly  she  jjlaced 
a  lai-ge  bowlful  bid'ore  the  yontig  man.  who  ate  it  with  a  good  ai)]K'- 
tite.  and  h(>  ga\('  thanlcs  to  his  li()st  for  wliat  he  had  eaten.  Night 
coming  on  shortly  after  this,  the  three  persons  began  to  get  I'eady 
for  I'ctii'ing.  \t  this  time  the  old  man  said  to  his  guest.  "  You  should 
give  me  the  body  cd'  tlie  biid  which  you  have  brought  with  you. 
"\'on  will  leave  it  with  me  to  Keep  for  you."  I'ut  the  youth  replied. 
"  I  will  not  gi\e  it  U|)  to  you."  To  this  the  old  man  answered,  in  a 
threatening  maimer.  "  I  am  gieatly  agitated  in  mv  mind.  Let  us 
retire  for  the  night.  A  game  aidmal  has  indeed  come  into  mv  lodire. 
T  am  now  an  old  man.  .'-^till  there  is  nothing  that  curbs  mv  orenda 
(I  am  unatfected  bv  any  inlluence).  \  am  bound  to  get  back  m\' 
own  bird  at  any  cost." 

So  saying,  he  arose  and.  going  aside,  he  took  down  his  wnv  club. 
'I'lieii.  returning  to  the  side  of  the  young  man.  he  ^aid.  "  Do  thoti 


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

give  up  to  me  the  body  of  the  bird  which  you  have.'"  The  answer 
came,  "  I  will  not  give  it  up  to  you."  The  old  man,  now  in  a  great 
rage,  retorted :  "  You  are  risking  your  life.  You  are  about  to  die, 
and  you  can  not  escape  from  it."  With  these  words  he  raised  his 
war  club,  shouting,  "Will  you  hand  me  the  bird,  or  not?"  But  the 
young  man  still  replied,  "  No.  I  will  not  give  it  up  to  you."  Then 
the  old  man  struck  the  youth  on  the  head  with  the  club  and  killed 
him.  Thus  he  recovered  the  body  of  the  bird  and  gave  back  its  life*^'^ 
(which  was  that  of  a  female  relation  of  the  old  man). 

These  events  gave  great  pleasure  to  the  old  man,  who  went  around 
.saying:  "  There  is  nothing  that  yet  affects  my  orenda;  I  am  not  suf- 
fering in  any  manner;  no  one  from  any  place  can  come  here  who 
is  able  to  treat  me  lightly."  So  the  old  man  was  quite  happy.  Hav- 
ing brought  out  his  great  clay  pot,  with  water  in  it,  he  set  it  over  the 
fire,  and  after  quartering  the  body  of  the  young  man,  he  placed  it 
all  in  the  pot  to  cook.  After  a  suitable  time  he  remarked,  "  It  is 
perhaps  cooked  now."  He  kept  on  looking  into  the  pot  from  time 
to  time  to  see  whether  the  flesh  was  done.  As  it  seemed  not  to  cook 
thoroughly,  the  old  man  was  greatly  concerned  about  it,  and  con- 
tinued saying,  "There  is  something  wrong;  otherwise  it  would  be 
possible  to  cook  this  thoroughly."  Finally,  getting  out  of  patience, 
the  old  man  removed  the  pot  from  the  fire  and  ate  the  raw  flesh. 

Now,  in  the  lodge  of  the  brothers  there  was  anxiety  when  night 
came  and  none  of  the  brothers  who  had  gone  northward  had  re- 
turned, and  the  five  remaining  brothers  were  wondering  what  had 
befallen  them.  AMien  those  who  were  left  were  back  in  their  lodge 
Little  Burnt  Belly  said,  "  Oh,  elder  brother !  you  must  go  tomorrow 
to  bring  them  back."  Then  they  retired  for  the  night  and  went  to 
sleep.  In  the  morning  tliey  arose  and  all  except  Little  Burnt  Belly 
went  to  hunt,  as  usual.  The  latter  seated  himself  beside  the  fire 
and  there  he  sat  all  day  long  without  moving.  Wlien  evening  came 
the  two  missing  brothers  had  not  returned,  and  the  hunting  brothers 
came  back  empty  handed,  having  killed  nothing  during  the  day. 
They  all  saw  Little  Burnt  Belly  seated  beside  tlie  fire,  silent  and 
motionless. 

The  brothers  retired  for  the  night  and  slept  soundly.  AVlien 
dayliglit  came  and  tliey  arose  they  saw  Little  Burnt  Belly  still  seated 
beside  the  fire.  He  maintained  the  one  position  and  said  nothing 
to  any  of  his  brothers.  When  they  a'  their  breakfast  he  did  not 
firise  to  have  his  share.  The  other  brothers  then  left  the  lodge  to 
go  out  hunting  for  game  animals  for  food.  After  they  had  gone 
Little  Burnt  Belly  arose,  saying,  "  Let  me  amuse  my  elder  brothei's." 
Thereupon  he  then  took  down  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  shot  two 
arrows  up  out  of  the  smoke-hole  of  the  lodge. 


cc 

ut: 


:'^yl^4]  LEGENDS  535 


As  the  brothers  were  en_iiai;;ed  in  tlie  cliase  at  no  great  distance 
one  from  aiujther.  they  were  ureutly  surprised  to  see  a  very  large 
deer  rush  up  to  tliein  and  tall  dead  at  tlieir  feet,  and  soon  anotlier 
deer  did  lilvewise.  'J'liey  saw  that  an  arrow  protruded  frt)in  the 
hodv  of  each  deer — a  circunistance  whicii  was  very  mysterious  to 
tiieni.  As  qnickiy  as  pcissilile  ()ne  of  the  brotliers  rushed  up  to  the 
.-Iricken  deer,  and  brealdng  oil'  a  leaf,  wrai>ped  it  around  the  arrow 
before  touching  it  with  his  hand  to  draw  it  fortii.  saying,  "  1  do 
nol  dcsiic  to  unchaiiu  uiy  youngest  brother's  arrow."  Then  draw- 
ing out  the  ai-row,  he  carefully  laid  it  up  in  the  fork  of  a  tree. 
Ibning  ilone  this  he  started  at  once  for  home,  carrying  the  whole 
body  of  tlie  ileer.  Ik't'oic  it  was  dark  Little  Burnt  Belly  saw  his 
elder  l)i-otlu'r  liringing  back  the  deer.  Not  long  afterward  the 
other  brother  came  into  the  lodge  bearing  on"  his  back  the  other 
deer  properly  packetl  for  carrying.  Tlie  other  tv.o  brothers  letnrncd 
with  them  as  guards. 

They  fountl  Little  Ibirnt  lielly  still  seated  before  tlie  lire.  Ibii 
when  they  were  back  in  tin'  lodge  he  said  to  them.  "Our  missing 
brothers  have  not  yet  retui'ued  home.  Tomorrow  I  myself  will  go 
on  their  trail  to  seelv  for  lliem.''  .Vfter  eating  their  evening  meal 
they  retirecl  for  the  night  and  slept  soundly.  When  morning  came 
they  pre])ared  their  usual  l)reakfast  and  then  started  out  to  hunt. 
Thereu])on  Little  Burnt  Belly  arose,  and  going  to  his  covich  procured 
such  articles  of  a|)i)arel  as  he  needed  for  his  journey.  lie  took  also 
his  bow  and  arrows,  which  were  his  immediate  trust  and  depend- 
ence for  accomplishing  his  ta-^k,  for  they  were  full  of  orenda  (magic 
jiowci-).  which  he  could  con'rol  for  iiis  own  use.  He  ate  no  breal<- 
fast :  he  needed  none,  for  he  desired  to  have  all  his  faculties  clear 
and  .ilert.  \Vhile  seated  beside  the  fii'e  he  had  been  taking  suitable 
nu'dicine  to  make  him  sound  :!ntl  cleai-  visioned  that  he  might  be  able 
to  cope  with  the  wizard  whom  lie  susjieeted  of  ha\  ing  destroyed  his 
missing  brothers. 

Leaving  the  lodge.  Little  IJiii'iit  Belly  shaped  his  course  northward 
to  (ind  the  trail  of  his  three  brothei-s.  It  was  not  long  before  he 
.struck  fiiis,  and  ho  followed  it  on  the  run,  presently  entering  a  vast 
forest  whose  great  trees  made  it  ilaik  and  gloomy.  He  had  been  run- 
ning for  a  lai'ge  portion  of  the  day  when  he  saw^  daylight  through 
the  trees,  from  which  he  inferred  that  there  mu.st  be  a  clearing 
ahead  of  him.  Keeping  his  course,  finally  he  came  to  the  edge  of  a 
large  clearing  or  field.  .\s  he  saw  the  tracks  of  his  brothers  there, 
he  stopped  to  look  ar<iund.  Immediately  he  heard  a  peculiar  sound 
of  tajiping.  and  looking  in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  seemed  to 
come  he  perceived  that  it  jMoceeded  from  the  opposite  side  of  a 
great  valley  just  ahead  of  him.    Making  his  way  along  to  the  brink 


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

of  the  Aalley  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  saying,  "  It  seems  that  1 
am  in  hick,  for  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley  a  human  being 
walks  along."  He  heai'd  this  voice  three  times.  As  the  trail  led  him 
in  the  direction  of  the  soimd  he  said,  "  I  think  it  my  duty  to  follow 
this  trail,  for  the  voice  may  be  that  of  one  of  my  brothers  (said 
ironically)." 

So  descending  into  the  valley  he  came  to  a  terrace  or  bench,  along 
which  he  was  following  his  brother's  tracks,  when  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  pieces  of  bark  falling  around  him.  Halting  and  looking 
up  into  a  tree  standing  just  at  his  side,  he  saw  a  small  bird  high  up 
on  the  trunk,  clinging  to  it  and  flitting  at  times  from  place  to  place. 
He  saw  that  the  bird  pretended  to  be  a  flicker,  or  yellowhanuner. 
When  the  flicker  saw  him  looking  up.  it  said  with  a  laugh,  "  Some 
people  who  believe  t^iemselves  possessed  of  orenda  go  about  with  bow 
and  arrows  just  as  if  they  knew  how  to  use  them,  although  they  may 
lie  the  poorest  of  marksmen."  Pointing  an  arrow  at  it.  Little  Burnt 
Belly  said :  "  Be  careful  of  thyself.  Some  people  trust  their  orenda 
too  far.  for  thej-  lay  claim  to  too  much  power  for  their  own  good." 
At  once  the  flidver  became  visibly  agitated,  and  kept  glancing  at 
Little  Burnt  Belly  furtively,  as  it  slowly  crept  around  the  tree  trunk. 
At  an  opportune  moment  he  let  fly  an  arrow,  which  pierced  the  body 
of  the  flicker,  causing  it  to  fall  to  the  ground  without  uttering  a 
sound.  Little  Burnt  Belly  did  not  fail  to  notice  the  shocks  of  arrows 
sticking  in  the  tree  trunk  near  the  spot  where  the  flicker  was  cling- 
ing and  to  recognize  them  as  belonging  to  his  brothers;  he  saw  also 
their  broken  bows,  and  knew  that  they  were  in  the  power  of  some 
wizai'd. 

Taking  up  his  arrow  with  the  flicker  still  pierced  by  it.  and  placing 
it  over  his  shoulder,  he  resumed  his  journey.  He  was  not  long  in 
coming  to  the  lodge  which  he  had  seen  in  the  distance,  and  to  which 
the  trail  of  his  brothers  had  led  him.  As  he  drew  near,  a  man's  voice 
within  said.  "Oh.  my  grandson!  come  in:  I  am  thankful  that  you 
have  come  to  visit  me."  On  entering  the  lodge  he  saw  an  old  man 
whom  he  recognized  as  a  cannibal,  and  he  saw  also  before  him.  seated 
iin  her  couch,  a  fine-looking  young  maiden.  The  old  man  exclaimed: 
■'  I  have  been  looking  for  you  for  a  very,  very  long  time.  I  have 
said  all  along  that  a  great  hunter  was  on  his  way  to  visit  me.  There 
sits  my  granddaughter  whom  you  are  to  marry.  Granddaughter, 
move  along,  and  give  him  some  room  by  you."  As  Little  Burnt 
Belly  passed  the  old  man  the  latter  saw  that  he  was  carrying  some- 
thing which  he  had  killed,  and  he  arose  quickly,  saying:  "Do  give 
me  the  liody  of  that  thing  which  you  ha\e  killed,  foi'  it  is  indeed  a 
verj'  fine  game  animal."  But  Little  Biu-nt  Belly  replied:  "I  will 
not  give  it  up.    I  will  first  see  my  missing  brothers."    The  old  man 


^.^'I.T;.;';]  legk.nds  537 

jx'i'sisted.  however,  sayiiijr:  '"Von  sliould  irive  me  that  bird.  I  am 
gi'eatly  agitated  in  my  mind.  Nothing  yi't  has  curlied  my  orcMuhi.  I 
will  get  back  that  bird  at  any  cost.  .\  game  animal  has  now  come  to 
my  lodge."  I^ittle  Burnt  Belly  retorted:  '•You  are  boasting  of  the 
invulnerability  of  your  orenda.  but  tliis  bird  contains  your  life,  and 
1  am  your  master,  and  you  Unow  it.  ^  on  liave  long  ago  forfeited 
j'our  life  by  all  your  murders  and  cannibalism,  so  now  you  shall  die." 
So  saying.  Little  Burnt  Belly  crushed  his  head  with  the  l)lows  of  his 
war  club.  Then  he  liberated  the  slave,  or  prisoner,  of  the  cannibal 
from  the  efl'ects  of  drugs  which  had  been  given  her  by  her  master, 
and  after  bringing  back  to  life  his  own  brothers,  who  had  been 
devoured  l)y  the  cannilial,  they  all  icturned  to  tlie  lodge  of  Honenhineh. 

irj.  The  Lkof.nd  or  (iopasiyo 

In  the  beginning  of  time,  when  the  earth  was  new.  when  the  in- 
habitants of  it  spoke  but  a  single  tongue,  when  these  good  people 
dwelt  in  perfect  harmony  and  ])eace,  and  when  the  several  settle- 
ments livetl  in  such  manner  that  there  were  no  (juarrels  or  contentions 
among  them,  there  dwelt  in  one  of  these  settlements,  or  villages, 
(jodasiyo,  a  woman,  who  was  the  chief  of  her  village. 

The  village  over  which  (rodasiyo  held  sway  was  situated  beside  a 
very  large  river:  in  fact,  it  occupied  both  sides  of  this  important 
stream.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  peo]ile  of  (Jodasiyo  to  cross  the 
river  for  the  purpose  of  visiting,  of  attending  the  dances  whicii  are 
heiil  e\'cry  nigiit,  and  of  exchanging  their  goods — meat,  venison. 
skins,  furs,  roots,  baric,  and  di'ied  fruits  and  berries — in  oider  to 
supjily  their  .several  needs.  Moieover.  the  lodge  of  public  assembly 
was  situated  on  one  side  of  the  rixer — a  feature  tiiat  occasioned  con- 
siderable traveling  across  and  baclv.  This  stream  was  very  large 
and  rai)id.  Tiie  |)eople  crossed  it  by  uieans  of  a  bridge  constructed  of 
sa])lings  and  df  limits  ()(  trees  rarel'ully  fastened  together.  The 
state  of  good  will  and  contentment.  abo\e  described,  continued  for 
a  long  time,  but  at  last  tr(>ui)le  arose.  The  cause  of  this  was  a 
white  dog  which  belonged  to  the  chief,  (rodasiyo.  The  dissension 
became  so  sei'ious  that  there  was  great  danger  that  the  factions  would 
become  involved  in  a  figiit  over  the  matter.  The  gi-eat  river  divided 
the  two  pai-ties. 

Finally.  Chief  (iodasiyo.  after  long  deliberation,  decided  that  the 
oidy  way  in  whii-h  a  deadly  contest  could  be  avoided  would  be  by 
tlie  ri'MiiPViil  of  her  own  adherents  to  some  other  place  of  residence. 
Having  decided  to  take  this  step,  she  at  once  informed  her  adherents 
of  her  resolution  to  remove  westw;u-d  by  ascending  the  stream  on  which 
they  were  living.     .She  invited  all  who  had  taken  her  part  to  follow 


538  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  an.v.  32 

her  into  exile  from  their  present  settlement.  And  they  all  agreed  to 
emigrate  with  her.  She  told  them  further  that  they  would  ascend 
the  river  in  canoes  of  birch  bark,  which  would  enable  them  to  trans- 
port their  small  belongings  with  ease.  So  the  people  set  to  work  to 
construct  the  water  craft.  Two  canoes  of  birch  bark  of  suitable  size 
were  made,  and  these  were  fastened  together  by  means  of  strong  sa])- 
lings  extending  from  one  canoe  to  the  other  so  as  to  support  a  kind 
of  platform  extending  over  the  canoes  and  the  space  between 
them.  This  structure  was  for  the  sole  use  of  the  chief.  Godasiyo. 
The  followers  of  Godasiyo  proceeded  to  construct  birch-bark  canoes 
for  themselves  also.  When  Godasiyo  took  her  seat  on  the  craft  con- 
structed for  her  sole  use  all  her  adherents  and  defenders  launched 
their  own  canoes  containing  their  effects. 

A^laen  all  had  embarked,  with  Chief  Godasiyo  in  the  lead,  all 
paddled  upstream.  The  flotilla  of  canoes  was  very  large,  covering 
the  surface  of  the  water  as  far  as  the  eve  could  see  up  and  down  the 
river.  After  they  had  paddled  a  long  distance,  the  people  finally 
came  in  sight  of  the  forks  in  the  river,  and  then  it  was  that  they 
began  to  converse  together — the  two  divisions  of  canoes,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  float  of  tl'  chief,  Godasiyo — as  they  paddled  upstream. 
One  division  chose  one  of  the  forks  in  the  river  as  the  course  to 
follow  to  their  new  settlement,  and  the  other  division  elected  to 
turn  into  the  other  channel.  Each  division  gave  its  reasons  for  the 
choice  which  it  had  made,  and  the  divergent  views  gave  rise  at  last 
to  heated  discussion.  This  strife  continued  to  the  point  where, 
if  persisted  in.  the  peoiile  would  become  definitely  separated,  still 
no  compromise  was  effected;  so  the  leaders  in  each  division  turned 
the  prows  of  their  canoes  so  as  to  ascend  the  fork  of  the  stream 
which  they  had  selected.    Thus  they  began  to  separate. 

When  this  movement  began  the  two  men  paddling  the  two  canoes 
on  which  rested  the  float  of  Chief  Godasiyo  disagreed  as  to  the 
course  that  they  should  take  under  the  ciicumstances.  As  each  chose 
the  fork  branching  off'  on  his  side  of  the  stream,  the  two  canoes 
became  separated,  and  the  platform  on  which  Chief  (iodasiyo  was 
sitting  slipped  off  its  support,  falling  into  the  water  and  carrying 
the  chief  with  it.  The  people  drew  near  and,  looking  into  the  water 
to  see  what  had  become  of  their  chief,  they  saw  that  she  had  sunk 
to  the  bottom,  where  she  had  become  transformed  into  a  great  fish. 

Thereupon  the  people  of  the  two  divisions  attempted  to  converse 
together,  but  they  were  unalile  to  understand  one  another,  for  their 
language  had  become  changed.  It  was  in  this  manner  that  this  body 
of  people  became  divided  and  possessed  of  different  languages.  Thus 
it  came  about  that  there  are  so  numy  languages  spoken  b}-  the  vari- 
ous tribes  dwelling  on  this  earth. 


CtlRTI 
HEW 


l^]  LEGENDS  539 

113.  A  Legend  of  ax  Anthropomorphic  Trire  of  Ratti-esnakes 

In  the  ancient  country  of  the  Oneida,  which  tiie\'  occupied  when 
the  Leajjne  of  the  Iroquois  was  formed,  were  a  number  of  subter- 
ranean caverns,  wliich.  it  was  ."^aid,  wore  inhabited  by  various  tribes 
of  men.     'Jiie  f()lh)win<r  k'lrend  is  about  one  of  these  caverns: 

It  was  said  that  in  the  olden  time  a  certain  young  man  of  a  good 
family  while  out  hunting;  in  this  region  saw  a  large  raccoon  ahead 
of  him.  which  seemingly  was  attempting  to  escape  from  him.  .\t  once 
the  young  hunter  started  in  pursuit  of  the  raccoon,  and  soon  the  race 
became  interesting,  for  the  raccoon  was  gradually  gaining  on  its 
pursuer.  It  was  not  long  before  the  raccoon  had  gotten  out  of  his 
sight,  so  the  hunter  was  able  to  follow  it  only  by  following  its  tracks 
in  the  snow  that  lay  on  the  ground  to  the  depth  of  a  span.  .M'ter  a 
very  long  pursuit  the  hunter  finally  tracked  the  i-accoon  to  a  large 
river,  the  baidcs  of  which  were  very  high  and  rocky.  'J'he  tracks 
led  along  under  one  bank  for  a  long  distance.  The  young  man  was 
becoming  (|uitc  exhausted  when  finally  he  came  to  the  mouth  of  a 
cavern  in  the  ri\cr  bank,  into  which  the  tracks  of  the  raccoon  disap- 
peared. The  entrance  to  this  ca%'ern  was  just  large  enough  to  admit 
the  body  of  the  hunter,  and  he  decided  to  go  in ;  but  before  doing 
so  he  set  up  his  bow  and  arrows  and  walking  stick  beside  the  en- 
trance. He  found  that  the  passageway  inclined  downward  at  a 
gentle  grade.  After  entering  the  passage  the  young  hunter  fouml 
that  the  way  was  long.  IIa\  ing  gone  so  far  in  that  the  light  from 
the  entrance  had  entirely  faded  away,  at  last  he  was  delighted  to  see 
that  it  was  becoming  light  ahead  of  him.  So  he  kept  on  until 
finally  he  emerged  from  the  cavern.  Thereupon  he  was  surpi-ised  to 
see  that  the  tracks  of  the  raccoon  led  out  of  the  pa.s.sageway  into  the 
open.  The  young  hunter  stood  quiet  for  some  minutes,  viewing  the 
country  around.  He  was  greatly  siu'prised  to  find  further  that  the 
climate  of  this  region  was  quite  dilh-reiit  from  that  in  which  he 
commonly  aboile.  for  he  found  black  raspiierries  ripe  or  ripening, 
although  there  was  much  snow  on  the  ground  in  the  country  whence 
he  had  just  come.  Then  he  resolved  to  follow  a  well-beaten  path,  which 
led  farther  into  the  new  country.  Ashe  went  along  he  blazed  the  trees 
bordering  the  path,  or  broke  twigs  and  branches  oil  the  trees  in  such 
manner  that  these  would  serve  as  signs  by  which  he  could  retrace 
his  steps  in  the  event  of  losing  his  way.  He  noticed  that  the  path 
leading  from  the  entrance  to  what  he  thought  was  a  cavern  led  in- 
land, turning  to  the  right  a  short  distance  from  the  entrance.  He 
follow-ed  this  road  because  he  .«aw  in  the  du.st  of  the  path  the  tracks 
of  the  raccoon  which  he  had  been  following. 

As  he  walked  along,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  whatever  might 
happen,  he  saw  in  the  distance  a  lodge,  which  from  its  ai)pcafance 


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

seemed  to  be  occupied;  he  noticed  smoke  arising  from  it,  hence  he 
inferred  that  people  were  dwelling  there.  He  resolved  to  go  ahead 
to  see  who  lived  in  that  lodge.  As  he  continued  on  he  still  saw  the 
tratks  of  the  raccoon  which  he  had  been  following.  On  reaching  the 
lodge  the  young  hunter  entered,  finding  within  two  very  aged  people, 
seemingly  a  man  and  his  wife,  who  appeared  to  be  superannuated. 
The  old  man  was  the  first  to  greet  the  hunter,  saying,  "  My  grandson, 
it  is  indeed  well  that  you  visit  our  lodge  and  home."  Then  the  old 
woman  joined  her  husband  in  welcoming  him  with  the  words,  "  My 
grandson,  it  is  indeed  good  that  you  visit  our  home."  The  hunter 
I'eplied  to  these  words  of  welcome,  "  I  am  indeed  glad  that  yoiL  two 
are  .still  living  in  health  in  this  world."  The  heads  of  these  two  old 
people  were  whit*  and  partially  bald,  for  their  years  were  many: 
but  they  set  food  before  their  guest,  which  he  ate  heartily  and  thank- 
fully, for  he  had  become  quite  exhausted  from  his  long  pursuit  of 
the  raccoon.  When  he  finished  his  meal  he  conversed  with  the  old 
man  concerning  the  atfairs  of  that  counti'V. 

In  a  short  time  the  old  man  said.  ''  The  chiefs  of  this  settlement 
have  invited  me  to  meet  them  in  council  this  evening,  and  I  should 
be  much  pleased  to  have  you  accompany  me  to  our  lodge  of  assem- 
bly ("Long-lodge").  Here  the  wife  of  the  old  man  added,  "My 
grandson,  you  should  go  with  him  and  so  become  actiuainted  with 
our  people  and  see  the  country."  The  young  hunter  consented  to  ac- 
company his  aged  host,  for  he  learned  that  he  was  a  noted  chief  in 
his  land.  'Jliereiipon  the  aged  chief  said,  "My  grandson,  when  we 
arrive  at  the  lodge  of  assembly  you  must  not  remain  outside;  you 
must  enter  with  me;  and  when  they  begin  to  dance  you  must  return 
liere  at  once,  for  if  you  should  remain  there  you  would  meet  with  a 
terrible  misfortune.  I  am  giving  you  warning  in  due  time.  More- 
over, you  must  not  linger  along  the  way  homeward,  but  y-ou  must 
make  all  possible  sjjeed.  Yonder  is  a  hut,  which  rests  on  a  platform 
supported  by  four  posts,  in  which  hut  you  must  retire  for  the  niglft. 
There  is  a  ladder  leading  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  hut,  which,  when 
you  have  reached  the  platform,  you  must  pull  up  after  you  and  lay 
on  the  scatTolding  outside  the  lodge.  1  warn  you  further.  You 
nnist  not  consent  under  any  consideration  or  persuasion  to  let  down 
this  ladder  to  enable  a  person  or  persons  to  go  up  and  be  witli  you. 
for  should  you  give  this  consent  a  most  appalling  thing  will  befall 
you.  Do  not  forget  these  warnings.  Your  safety  depends  on  your 
obeving  what  I  have  said  to  you,  for  I  am  telling  you  these  things 
for  \'our  welfare."  The  young  hunter  assured  the  old  man  that  he 
would  obey  his  warnings.  Looking  out  he  saw  the  elevated  hut  to 
which  the  old  man  said  he  should  retire  for  the  night,  and  he  noticed 
that  the  supporting  jiosts  had  been  peeled  and  carefully  oiled  to 
l^revent  anything  from  climbing  them  to  reach  the  hut.     This  fact 


CUUTI 
HEWITT 


rr]  LEGENDS  541 


aroused  the  voiinfr  luintcr's  curiosity,  but  I'ccliiiir  lliat  lie  siionlii  not 
pry  into  tlie  atlaii's  of  his  hosts  lie  held  his  peace. 

Having  completed  their  .•small  preinirations.  the  aged  ciiict'  and  his 
young  guest  departed  for  the  council.  AA'hen  they  reached  the  lodge 
of  assembly  ("Long-lodge").  Hicy  found  liial  they  were  on  time. 
The  hunter  saw  what  was  usual  on  such  occasions  and  gatherings — ■ 
that  those  whose  intenti(jns  and  purposes  were  good  had  already  taken 
their  phices  inside  the  council  lodge,  and  that  those  who  had  evil 
designs  and  propensities  were  going  to  and  fro  outside.  He  noliccd, 
too,  that  when  the  frivolous  young  women  saw  him  and  recognized 
him  as  a  stranger,  they  at  once  guyed  one  .•inothcr  at  his  expense, 
jostling  and  hawing  and  clearing  their  throats,  in  order  to  malie  the 
yoinig  stranger  look  at  them  and  to  join  them:  but  he  pnul  no  atten- 
tion to  their  ruses.  On  entering  the  lodge  of  assembly  the  aged  chief 
and  his  guest  found  that  it  was  already  well  tilled  with  the  orderly 
people  of  the  settlement,  and  that  the  chiefs  were  all  pre.sent.  rpiietly 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  host  of  the  young  hunler.  W'iieii  the  two 
had  taken  their  seats  the  Fire-keeper  chief  arose  antl  in  a  formal 
speech  uncovered  figuratively  the  council  fire,  expressing  with  much 
feeling  the  public  thaid<s  fur  all  the  good  things  they  enjoyed  and  for 
the  preservation  of  their  lives.  He  made  these  remarks  in  a  loud 
voice,  giving  thaidis  to  the  .Master  of  Life.  After  forbidding  the 
commission  of  bad  deeds  by  e\eryone  there  present  he  carefully 
stated  the  purpose  of  their  .session.  He  asked  every  chief  to  emi)loy 
wisdom  and  mercy  and  justice  in  the  conduct  of  the  business.  After 
a  nmnber  of  the  chiefs  had  discussed  the  matter  pro  and  con  before 
them,  and  had  in  their  parlance  "cooked  the  ashes,''  and  the  business 
of  the  council  had  been  transacted,  the  Fire-keeper  again  arose  to 
clo.se  the  session  fornuilly,  by  saying,  among  other  things,  "  We  now 
co\er  the  fire  with  ashes.  And  after  the  dancing,  which  will  beirin 
now,  we  will  disperse  to  our  homes." 

The  young  hunter,  hearing  these  last  words  and  remembering 
the  strict  injunctions  of  his  ho-:t,  ha.stened  out  of  the  lodge  and  at 
once  started  for  home  at  a  rapid  pace.  Hut  his  movements  had  been 
watched  by  four  young  women,  abandoned  characters  of  the  settle- 
ment, who  at  once  pursued  him  swiftly,  laughing,  liawimx,  and 
calling  to  him  to  stop  and  await  their  pleasure.  This  conduct,  how- 
ever, only  caused  the  young  hun.ter  to  travel  ahead  as  fast  as  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  go.  Soon  he  was  chagrined  to  find  that  he  was 
not  leaving  the  young  women,  for  their  voices  did  not  die  away,  so 
finally  he  started  to  run  at  toj)  speed.  After  a  time,  becoming  ex- 
hausted by  the  e.xertion,  the  hunter  slackened  his  pace  to  a  brisk 
walk,  whereupon  he  .soon  heard  the  sounds  of  the  laughing  and  guv- 
ing  voices  of  the  pursuing  women,  who  seemed  to  be  rapidly  gaining 
on  him.    Again  he  started  on  a  brisk  run  in  a  seemini^lv  vain  effort  to 


542  SENECA    FICTIOK,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etii.  ANN.  32 

outdistance  his  fleet-footed  pursuers,  for  just  as  soon  as  he  would  relax 
his  efforts  in  the  least,  the  sound  of  their  voices  could  be  heard  not 
tar  behind  him.  The  serious  injunctions  of  his  aged  host  urged  him 
onward  as  ra])idly  as  it  was  possilile  for  him  to  go.  Thus  closely 
pursued,  he  linally  reached  the  hut  and  lost  no  time  in  ascending 
to  it  by  means  of  the  tree  ladder,  which  he  drew  up  after  him.  as  he 
had  been  directed  to  do  by  the  old  man.  Having  entered  the  hut 
and  secured  its  bark  flap  door  as  well  as  he  could  from  the  inside,  he 
anxiously  awaited  events.  Soon  the  four  wretched  women  arrived 
and  clamorously  asked  him  to  let  down  the  ladder  to  enable  them  to 
climb  up  to  his  room,  but  the  young  man  gave  no  heed  to  their  im- 
portunities. Through  small  crevices  in  the  walls  of  the  hut  he 
watched  them  while  they  attempted  to  climlj  the  posts,  but  as  these 
were  greased  the  women  were  unable  to  do  so.  Throughout  the  night 
they  remained  at  the  foot  of  the  posts  clamoring  for  the  ladder.  At 
daybreak  the  women  ceased  tlieir  attempts  and  noise,  and  the  young 
man  fell  asleep  from  exhaustion.  When  he  awoke  he  arose,  and  un- 
fa.stening  the  door  flap  of  bark,  he  went  out  on  the  platform  around 
the  hut.  On  looking  down,  he  saw  at  the  foot  of  each  of  the  posts 
a  huge  female  rattlesnake,  coiled  and  asleep ;  these  he  divined  were 
the  four  wretched  women  who  had  pursued  him  the  previous  night. 
His  movements  over  their  heads  awakened  them,  and  at  once  they 
ci'awled  away  into  the  neighboring  thickets  without  indicating  in 
any  manner  that  it  was  they  who  had  just  tormented  him. 

Having  gathered  up  his  few  belongings  and  let  down  tlie  ladder, 
he  descended  to  the  ground  and  hastened  to  the  lodge  of  his  aged 
hosts,  which  stood  not  far  away.  On  entering,  he  was  astonished 
to  find  the  aged  host,  in  the  f(U-iii  of  a  huge  rattlesnake,  coiled  up  on 
the  couch,  but  he  was  reassured  by  seeing  the  old  woman,  who  w-as 
up,  and  who  had  taken  the  precaution  of  assuming  human  form 
again.  Though  at  first  somewhat  nonplused  by  what  he  had  just 
seen,  the  young  hunter  asked  the  old  woman,  "'■  Where  is  my  grand- 
father? I  suppo.se  he  has  gone  out  into  the  forest?  "  Without  show- 
ing any  perturbation,  the  old  woman  replied.  "  Yes;  he  has  gone  out, 
liut  he  will  soon  return.  Back  of  the  hxlge  you  w^ill  find  water  with 
which  you  may  wash  your  face  and  hands.  The  morning  meal  is 
now  ready,  and  we  will  eat  it  just  as  soon  as  you  return."'  Having 
washed,  as  suggested,  in  a  bark  trough  in  the  rear  of  the  lodge,  he 
returned  to  join  the  old  woman  and  her  husband  at  the  morning  nieiil. 

While  eating  the  young  hunter  took  occasion  to  examine  the  fur- 
nishings of  the  lodge  more  thoroughly  than  he  had  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  sooner.  In  the  room  he  saw  numex'ous  bark  vessels 
of  many  sizes  with  various  kinds  of  nuts,  dried  fruits,  and  ber- 
ries; wooden  vessels  containing  honey;  and  small  bundles  of  the 
dried  twigs  of  the  spicebush  shrub  for  use  in  making  a  beverage 


^f/i^-S]  LEGENDS  543 

to  bi'  di'unk  liot  witli  meals.  '1'Ik'  youth  \v:is  further  surprised  to  see 
ill  a  cornel-  of  tlie  room,  curled  up  on  a  mai.  the  raccoon  which  he 
had  pursued  so  persistently  the  previous  day.  He  was  now  fully 
convinced  that  he  was  tiie  <riicst  n(  a  family  of  lattlesnukes.  for 
when  he  returned  from  wasliiiiir  him.--elf  at  the  liaclc  of  the  lodsje 
he  found  that  the  old  man  had  again  a.ssumed  human  foim.  appearing 
to  him  as  he  had  ihe  day  liefore.  and  greeting  hiui  with.  "■  Well,  my 
grandson,  did  you  rest  well  last  nights"  The  young  man  replied, 
••  ^'es:  1  ri'sted  ipiite  well."  When  the  old  wonuin  had  placed  the 
food  on  the  bench,  she  addressed  the  young  num,  .saying.  "  My  grand- 
son, now  you  must  eat  your  fill,  for  tln're  is  plenty  here.  So  do  not 
he  afraid  of  eating  all  you  wish." 

Having  finished  his  meal,  the  young  hinitei-  thaido'd  his  rattle- 
snake hosts,  and  after  bidding  them  faiewell  he  started  for  his  own 
home.  He  returned  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  for  such  was  this 
place,  and  crawling  back  through  the  passage  he  reacheil  the  surface 
of  the  earth  in  his  own  country,  where  he  found  his  bow  and  arrows 
and  his  walking  stick  just  as  he  had  left  them.  He  quickly  made  his 
way  home  to  his  family,  to  whom  he  related  his  experiences  in  the 
cavern.  He  was  so  a.stoni.shed  at  \\hat  had  befallen  him  while  in 
pursuit  of  a  raccoon  that  In'  had  the  chiefs  call  a  council  of  their 
chiefs  and  people  to  hear  the  strange  recital.  He  told  them  that  he 
had  indeed  visited  the  rattlesnake  ])eople.  and  that  they  a.ssumed  at 
will  human  form  and  attributes  and  lived  under  human  institu- 
tions. He  was  thanked  by  the  council,  and  people  for  his  recital. 
But  the  young  hunter  never  afterward  took  advantage  of  the  invi- 
tation of  the  ohl  rattlesnake  chief  to  revisit  him  and  his  wife. 

114.  The  Twins:  Gkandsons  of  GAiio"'M).ii'nA''iio^'K^-^ 

In  ancient  times  a  certain  family,  consisting  of  seven  brothers  and 
one  sister,  lived  together  contentedly  in  a  large  bark  lodge.  It  was 
the  duty  of  this  sister  while  her  brothers  were  out  hunting  to  cut  in 
the  neighboring  forest  the  firewood  used  bj'  the  family  and  to  bring 
it  to  the  lodge. 

It  is  said  that  the  sister  was  unconmionly  comely,  although  her  size 
and  stature  were  above  the  average  for  women,  and  that  she  posses.sed 
unusual  strength.  In  the  performance  of  her  duties  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  be  absent  from  the  lodge  during  the  entii'e  day,  returning 
with  her  buiilen  of  firewood  in  the  evening.  Now.  the  youngest  of 
the  seven  brothers  was  a  recluse — that  is  to  say.  lie  was  deanon'do"'.*-'- 
-Vs  the  duties  of  the  si.ster  did  not  reciuire  her  to  go  far  from  the 
lodge,  she  was  usually  the  first  to  return  to  it  in  the  evening,  while 
the  brothers,  who  had  to  go  many  nules  away  to  find  game  and  fish, 
did  not  retuin  at  times  until  veiv  late  at  ni<;ht. 


544  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth  A>N.32 

There  came  a.  d;iy,  while  the  six  normal  brothers  and  their  sister 
were  absent,  and  while  there  was  no  one  in  the  lodge  except  the 
recluse,  when  a  young  woman,  daughter  of  the  noted  witdi, 
Gaho"*dji'da"ho"k.  came  to  the  lodge  bearing  a  huge  basket  of  mar- 
riage bread.  There  were,  of  course,  eight  beds  to  accommodate  the 
seven  brothers  and  their  sister,  which  were  properly  arranged  along 
the  sides  of  this  long  lodge.  The  bed  occupied  by  the  youngest 
brother,  the  recluse,  was  nearest  to  the  doorwa\'  on  its  side  of  the 
lodge.  The  witch's  daughter  had  been  instructed  by  her  mother  to 
take  her  seat  on  this  bed.  But  upon  entering  the  lodge  the  young 
woman,  after  looking  around,  set  her  basket  down  in  front  of  the 
third  bed  and  took  her  seat  thereon.  This  bed  was  the  third  one 
from  the  doorway,  counting  from  the  entrance  on  the  left  side  of  the 
lodge.  Feeling,  however,  that  she  had  not  followed  her  instructions, 
the  yoimg  woman  did  not  sit  there  long,  but  took  her  seat  on  the  next 
bed.  because  she  imagined  that  it  had  a  better  appearance  than  the 
one  on  which  she  had  been  sitting.  But  she  kept  on  shifting  her 
position  from  bed  to  bed  until  she  finally  came  to  the  seventh  bed. 
Plere  the  second  of  the  seven  brothers  and  his  sister  found  her  on 
their  return  to  the  lodge. 

Seeing  her  seated  on  the  bed  and  noticing  the  basket  of  marriage- 
proposal  bread,  they  inferred  that  she  had  come  to  marry  their 
brother  on  whose  bed  she  sat,  so  they  said  to  her  kindly,  "  We  are 
very  thankful  that  you  have  come  to  our  lodge,  oh.  our  sister-in-law." 
She  made  them  no  reply  but  by  her  actions  showed  her  appreciation  of 
this  welcome  reception  on  their  part.  In  the  order  of  their  ages  the 
other  brothei-s  returned  to  the  lodge,  and  with  the  exception  of  the 
eldest  one  all  saluted  her  with  words  of  welcome  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  first  two  had  expressed  their  delight  at  having  her  for  their 
fiistei'-in-law. 

The  eldest  brother  was  the  last  to  return  to  the  lodge,  and  by  the 
young  woman's  own  choice  seemingly  by  sitting  on  his  bed  with  a 
basket  of  marriage-proposal  bread  before  her.  he  was  her  chosen 
hu.sband,  so  he  addressed  her  as  his  accepted  wife.  Noticing  at 
once  that  he  was  blind  in  one  eye,  she  was  chagrined  for  not  having 
obeyed  her  mother's  instructions  with  regard  to  the  bed  on  which 
she  should  await  her  future  hu.sband.  She  thought  it  best,  however, 
to  seem  to  ignore  her  di.sturbing  discovery  and  her  unhappy  feelings 
m  consequence,  so  she  began  to  study  her  surroundings  in  the 
lodge.  She  saw  that  some  one  whom  she  had  not  noticed  before  was 
lying  on  the  bed  next  to  the  doorway  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
entrance,  the  one  on  which  she  had  been  told  to  sit  on  entering  this 
lodge.  She  made  the  discovery  also  that  the  person  lying  on  this 
bed  was  the  recluse  of  the  family,  that  in  fact  he  was  deanod'do''\  and 
as  such  was  "  secluded  "  from  all  persons.     She  noticed,  too,  that  no 


CCHTI 
HE 


"S]  LEGENDS  545 


one  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  the  reoimbent  figure,  which  was 
heavily  covered  with  robes  of  skin  from  head  to  foot.  Hence  her 
curiosity  was  thoroughly  aroused,  especially  as  it  was  on  this  bed 
that  her  mother  had  directed  her  to  sit. 

'Jhe  next  day,  when  all  the  other  persons  of  the  lodge  excejit  the 
recluse  and  the  bride  wife  had  gone  out  into  the  forest  on  their 
various  errands,  she  arose  from  her  couch,  and  crossing  over  to  the 
other  side  of  the  fire,  went  to  the  bed  on  which  lay  the  covered 
figure  and  cautiously  drew  down  the  covering  from  the  head  of  the 
person  who  was  fast  asleep.  There  she  saw  with  longing  eyes  and 
half-supi)iei5sed  passion  a  handsome  youth  of  finely  developed  figure. 
She  stood  there  partly  bent  over  the  sleeping  youth,  sorely  in- 
fatuated. By  gently  shaking  the  young  man  she  finally  succeeded  in 
awakening  him,  whereupon  she  said  to  him,  "Arise,  my  friend,  and 
come  to  my  couch  and  let  us  talk  together."  But  the  youth  neither 
arose  nor  would  he  speak  to  her,  notwithstanding  all  her  fervent 
entreaties  to  embrace  her.  Naturally  this  conthict  only  intensified 
the  young  wife's  desire,  so  she  continued  during  the  entire  day  to 
tease  and  coax  the  youth  to  go  over  to  her  own  couch.  But  he  made 
no  response  to  her  persistent  efforts.  When  she  thought  it  was 
about  time  for  the  other  persons  living  in  the  lodge  to  return,  she 
went  back  to  her  couch,  where  she  had  remained  of  her  own  choice 
the  previous  night.  She  did  not  love  her  husband  since  she  found 
out  his  misfortune  and  her  great  mistake  in  choosing  his  couch 
(contrary  to  her  instruction)  for  a  resting  place  when  she  first  came 
to  the  lodge. 

AMien  all  the  family  had  returned  to  the  lodge  for  the  night  and 
had  prepared,  cooked,  and  eaten  their  supper  of  corn  bread,  boiled 
venison,  and  spicebush  tea,  they  retired  to  their  several  couches, 
whereupon  the  bride  began  to  tell  her  husband  a  story  invented  for 
the  occasion.  She  declared  that  when  he  and  his  brothers  and 
sister  had  left  the  lodge  the  day  before  and  she  was  alone  with  his 
deanod' do''\  or  recluse  brother,  the  latter  had  come  over  to  the  side  of 
her  bed  and  had  made  improper  proposals  to  her,  and  that  she  iiad 
great  difficulty  in  resisting  his  attempted  assaults.  Her  husband, 
however,  made  no  reply  to  this  carefully  concocted  story. 

Again,  the  next  day,  when  all  the  brothers  excepting  the  recluse, 
and  their  sister,  had  left  the  lodge,  the  bride  went  to  the  bedside  of 
the  recluse,  and  after  awakening  him,  coaxed  and  begged  him  to  come 
to  her  own  couch.  Knowing  her  motive,  the  youth  made  no  response 
to  her  importunities  except  to  tell  her  that  she  should  be  satisfied 
with  her  own  choice  of  a  husband,  reminding  her  that  she  had  been 
satisfied  to  reject  the  speaker  when  she  fiist  came  to  the  lodge, 
although  she  had  been  instructed  to  take  a  seat  on  his  bed  as  a  token 
94615°— IG 35 


546  SENECA   PICTIOX,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

of  a  marriage  proposal.  Completely  baffled  by  the  attitude  of  the 
youth  and  enraged  by  his  conduct  in  refusing  to  gratify  her  desire, 
she  returned  at  last  to  her  own  couch  with*  a  heart  filled  onh'  with 
bitter  thougli^s  of  revenge  on  him.  Then,  in  order  to  make  her  con- 
templated stoi'v  appear  true,  she  lacerated  and  bruised  her  neck  and 
face  and  breasts  and  arms  with  her  own  hands  and  fingernails,  in 
order  to  support  her  intended  accusation  against  the  j'outh  of  an 
attempted  assault  upon  herself. 

When  the  other  members  had  returned  to  the  lodge  in  the  evening, 
and  after  thej'  had  eaten  their  suppers  and  had  retired  for  the  night, 
the  young  bride  again  told  her  husband  with  much  simulated  emo- 
tion that  his  recluse  brother  had  made  that  day  another  attempt  to 
assault  her  when  the  other  occupants  of  the  lodge  were  absent,  show- 
ing her  lacerated  neck  and  arms  and  face  in  corroboration  of  this 
false  story.  Still  the  husband  made  no  response  to  her  accusations 
against  his  youngest  brother.  The  next  day,  however,  when  he  was 
out  in  the  forest  hunting  with  his  other  brothers  he  related  to  them 
the  story  which  his  bride  had  told  him.  Thoy.  too.  received  this 
information  in  silence. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  arrival  of  the  young  woman  in  the 
family  she  still  had  hopes  of  entrapping  the  recluse  by  inducing 
him  to  share  her  bed  with  her.  In  fact,  she  had  been  sent  by  her 
notorious  mother,  Gaho"'dji"da''ho"k,  to  marry  this  youth,  not  be- 
cause the  mother  tliought  he  would  make  her  daughter  a  suitable 
husband,  but  rather  because  she  wished  to  get  him  into  her  power, 
for,  on  her  own  account,  she  feared  to  allow  him  to  grow  to  man- 
hood without  an  attempt  to  destroy  him.  knowing  well  that  all  who 
viere  regarded  as  deanoci'do^^  *-^  were  possessed  of  most  potent  orenda 
(magic  power),  which  they  would  put  into  use  as  soon  as  they  at- 
tained manhood — at  the  age  of  puberty.  The  recluse  youth  had 
foreseen  for  many  months  the  events  which  would  come  to  pass  after 
the  arrival  of  this  dutiful  daughter  of  Gaho"'dji"da"ho''k.  He  knew 
Well  that  the  creat  witch  had  sent  her  for  the  express  purpose  of 
getting  him  into  her  power  in  order  to  destroy  him  before  he  could 
develop  into  manhood.  Hence,  he  sturdily  resi.sted  all  the  wiles  of 
the  daughter  to  get  him  to  embrace  her.  as  he  knew  that  such  action 
would  place  him  at  the  mercy  of  iier  mother.  He  feared  being  be- 
witched: he  realized  that  he  must  exert  to  the  full  his  orenda  against 
that  of  the  great  witch,  for  he  was  aware  that  the  penalty  for  being 
defeated  was  death.  In  order  to  carry  out  her  scheme  the  young 
bride  arose  on  the  third  day  when  all  except  the  recluse  and  herself 
liad  left  the  lodge,  and  going  over  to  the  bedside  of  the  youth,  again 
entreated  him  tearfully  to  come  to  her  couch.  But  he  was  obdurate, 
rudely  repulsing  her  advances,  until  finally  she  returned  to  her  own 
side  of  the  fire.    Despairing  of  accom^jlishing  her  purpose  by  gentle 


5;y--;]  LEGENDS  547 

inciins,  tlie  youiiff  woman,  whose  aiigfr  was  thorouglily  aroused  by 
the  3'oiith's  refusal  to  be  seduced  by  her.  went  out  of  the  lodge  into 
a  dense  thicket,  and,  baring  her  legs,  she  plunged  into  the  midst  of 
briers  and  thorns,  which  lacerated  them  very  badly.  In  this  condi- 
tion she  returned  to  the  lodge  to  await  the  coming  of  her  husband. 
Wliin  luT  husband  and  his  brothers  and  sister  had  returned  the 
young  woman  kept  her  peace  for  a  while,  although  .she  pretended 
to  be  tn)ul)Ied  in  mind.  Hut  after  they  had  eaten  their  supper  and 
had  retired  for  the  night  she  told  her  husband  a  story  of  another 
attempted  assault  on  her  by  his  youngest  brother,  and  to  confirm  this 
she  siiowed  him  in  the  ill-lighted  room  her  torn  and  blood-stained 
legs  and  thigiis.  Jler  husband  made  no  rei)ly.  althougli  he  iiad  de- 
cided what  to  do. 

The  next  day  after  their  morning  meal  all  except  tlie  young  wife 
and  the  recluse  left  the  lodge  on  their  daily  trips  into  the  forest, 
the  brotluM-s  to  hunt  and  the  si.ster  to  procure  bark  and  fuel  for 
the  lire.  When  tlie  brothers  had  reached  their  rendezvous  in  the 
forest  the  eldest  told  the  i-est  what  his  wife  reported  to  him.  and 
also  that  she  had  shown  him  her  bleeding  legs  and  thighs  in  con- 
iirniation  of  her  story,  .\fter  a  short  parley,  the  brothers  solemnly 
decided  that  it  was  their  duty  to  kill  their  youngest  brother:  so  they 
returned  to  the  lodge  that  night  with  the  firm  determination  to 
carry  out  their  resolution.  The  next  morning,  after  they  iiad  eaten 
their  breakfast,  they  informed  him  of  their  decision  to  kill  him  in 
order  to  ]iut  a  stop  to  his  scandalous  conduct  toward  his  brother's 
wife.  The  youth,  knowing  that  he  was  innocent  of  the  charge  and 
that  the  young  woman  had  falsely  accused  him  to  his  brothers,, 
calmly  lay  down  on  his  couch  in  silence  that  his  brothers  might 
kill  him. 

First,  the  eldest  brother  solemnly  approached  the  couch,  and 
drawing  his  tlint  knife  from  his  pouch  he  passed  it  across  the  throat 
of  his  youngest  brother:  whereupon  he  was  astonished  to  see  that 
the  knife  had  made  no  cut.  After  sawing  away  with  his  knife 
until  he  had  worn  it  out,  he  abandoned  the  attempt  with  grave  mis- 
givings that  all  was  not  well  with  his  brother.  Then  the  rest  of 
the  brothers  ti'ied  in  turn  to  cut  tlie  throat  of  the  youngest,  but  in 
this  they  failed  completely.  A\'lieii  they  fully  realized  that  they 
had  iieen  foiled  by  some  unknown  power,  the  recluse  said  to  his 
astonished  brothers:  "None  of  you  possesses  the  orenda  (magic 
power)  to  enable  you  to  kill  me.  My  sister  alone  possesses  such 
potency;  hence  she  can  kill  me.  When  she  has  done  so,  you  shall 
build  a  log  lodge  of  massive  con.struction.  and  you  shall  put  over 
it  a  roof  of  the  largest  logs,  so  that  the  lodge  shall  be  entirely  secure. 
\U\t  before  putting  in  place  the  roof  you  shall  lay  my  body  in  the 
lodirc   and   also   leave   mv   sister  ali\e   therein.     Further,   vou   shall 


548  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [ETn.  ANN.  32 

place  my  head  in  its  correct  position  with  relation  to  the  rest  of 
my  body.    Finally,  seal  up  the  lodge  with  the  logs  as  I  have  said." 

Then  the  sister  of  the  youth,  with  her  flint  knife,  beheaded  her 
brother,  afterward  withdrawing  in  deep  sorrow.  Thereupon  the 
six  brothers  of  the  dead  youth  set  to  work  constructing  the  log 
lodge  as  they  had  been  instructed  to  do.  using  the  largest  logs  they 
could  handle.  When  they  had  finished  this  task  they  placed  their 
sister  alive  in  tlie  lodge  with  the  body  of  the  slain  brother,  just  as 
he  had  directed,  and  covered  the  rude  but  strong  structure  with  the 
largest  logs  it  was  possible  for  them  to  obtain  and  handle.  Then 
they  returned  to  their  own  camp. 

When  the  brothers  arrived  there  they  were  somewhat  surprised 
to  see  that  the  bride  of  the  eldest  had  mysteriously  disappeared. 
They  marveled  greatly  at  this  singular  occurrence,  which  they  could 
not  explain,  for  there  were  no  traces  of  her  having  been  attacked  by 
an  enemy. 

While  they  were  thus  perplexed  there  suddenly  arose  a  terrific 
hurricane  and  windstorm,  which  was  the  work  of  the  notorious 
witch  Gaho°'dji'da"ho"k,  the  mother  of  the  missing  bride.  At  the 
height  of  the  tempest,  within  the  lodge  of  great  logs,  the  head  of 
the  youngest  brother  became  reunited  to  his  body,  and  the  youth 
came  to  life.  At  once  he  said  to  his  sister,  possessed  of  potent  orenda, 
"  Oh,  my  sister !  press  with  all  your  might  both  your  hands  over  both 
my  eyes  and  keep  them  there  until  I  tell  you  to  remove  them."  The 
sister  quickly  obeyed  her  brother,  for  she  knew  that  the  storm 
maidens  would  snatch  away  the  eyes  of  her  brother  if  possible.  The 
tempest  swept  the  ground  in  all  directions  from  the  lodge  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  trees  being  torn  up  by  the  roots  and  tossed  about 
as  if  they  were  grass  stalks.  The  camp  of  the  six  brothers  was 
swept  away  and  they  were  destroyed  with  it. 

^Nevertheless  the  lodge  in  which  the  youngest  brother  and  his  sister 
were  inclosed  was  left  intact,  and  the  two  inmates  were  unharmed, 
except  in  one  respect:  When  the  rage  of  the  storm  had  subsided, 
the  brother  said  to  his  sister,  "  Now  you  may  take  your  hands  from 
my  eyes,  for  it  was  of  no  avail  for  you  to  have  held  tliem  there. 
Gaho'''dji'da"ho"k  has  ovei'matched  me  in  sorcery;  her  orenda  has 
overcome  mine."  From  this  speech  the  sister  learned  that  the 
youth  claimed  to  be  a  wizard,  possessed  of  orenda  of  abnormal 
potency  and  efficiency.  But  she  was  greatly  astonished  and  agitated 
to  find  that  her  brother's  eyes  had  been  snatched  out  from  under  her 
hands  during  the  storm  and  that  consequently  he  was  blind,  for  on 
removing  her  hands  from  his  face  she  saw  the  eyeless  sockets. 

Without  any  ado  the  brother  said  to  his  sister,  "Let  us  leave  this 
place.  Eemovo  the  roof  of  logs  so  that  we  may  get  out  of  this 
lodge."    Then  the  sister,  who  was  abnormally  strong  for  a  woman, 


?,ewi't^]  legends  549 

set  to  woric  icnioving  these  logs,  and.  when  she  Iiad  removed  enough 
of  them  to  enable  her  brother  and  herself  to  climb  out,  they  regained 
tlieir  freedom.  Thei-euj)on  the  blind  brother  said.  "  Let  us  go  home 
now:  and  in  order  to  do  this  we  must  travel  directly  southward 
from  here." 

The  sister,  agreeing  with  this  proposition,  at  once  set  to  work 
making  preparations  for  the  journey.  In  order  to  be  able  to  bear 
her  brother  on  her  back  she  constructed  a  kind  of  harness  or  carry- 
ing-chair {ffa''niffo"'"hwd'') .  When  she  had  completed  her  task  she 
]:)laced  her  blind  brother  in  tlio  "cliair."  and  by  means  of  the  fore- 
head straj)  bore  it  on  her  back,  'riius  Imrdened.  she  started  at  t)nce 
southward  for  their  home. 

Having  traveled  a  long  distance  without  stop[)iiig  to  lest,  they 
finally  came  to  a  place  in  w'hich  the  sister  saw  a  covey  of  wild 
turkey.s.  She  wished,  mentally,  it  were  possible  for  her  to  secure 
one  of  the  birds  for  food  for  her  brothei-  and  herself.  The  former, 
being  aware  of  her  thought,  said.  "Oh.  my  sister  I  make  me  .\ 
bow  and  an  arrow,  and  I  will  kill  one  of  the  wild  turkeys."  The 
sister,  having  done  as  desired,  brought  the  bow  and  anow  to  her 
brother,  who  said.  "Oh,  my  sister!  tell  me  where  the  turkeys  are 
and  turn  me  so  that  I  may  face  them  as  I  shoot."  As  soon  as  his 
sister  had  placed  him  in  the  projier  position,  with  one  shot  he  killed 
a  turkey.  Tiie  sister,  who  was  delighted  with  tiieir  good  fortune, 
at  once  proceeded  to  dress  and  cook  the  turkey  for  their  supper. 
But  when  she  told  her  brothei-  that  the  turkey  was  ready  to  eat  he 
refused  to  partake  of  it.  telling  liis  sister  tiiat  she  would  have  to  eat 
it  by  herself.  At  this,  without  asking  him  his  reason  for  not  eating 
his  portion,  she  ate  what  she  desired.  Then  she  constructed  a  tem- 
porary lodge  (kanoii.s^hd'')  with  boughs.  stri])s  of  bark,  and  other 
suitable  material,  in  which  she  and  her  brother  remained  for  the 
night. 

In  the  morning  the  sister  ate  what  remained  of  the  turkey  and  then, 
placing  her  brother  on  her  back,  resinned  the  journey  toward  the 
south.  They  traveled  the  entire  day.  A\'hen  the  sun  was  setting  they 
again  came  upon  a  covey  of  turkeys,  one  of  which  they  killed  in  the 
same  manner  as  tiiey  had  killeil  one  the  evening  before.  The  de- 
voted sister,  having  dressed  the  bird  carefully,  boiled  it  by  putting 
hot  stones  into  the  water,  but  the  young  man  again  refused  to  eat 
any  portion  of  it.  When  the  sister  had  eaten  what  ."^he  desired  she 
reserved  what  remained  for  breakfast.  Then  she  made  another  tem- 
poi-ary  shelter  in  which  they  retired  for  the  night. 

Ne.xt  morning  after  the  sister  had  eaten  her  breakfast  she  again 
took  her  brother  on  her  back  in  the  carrying  cradle  and  they  resumed 
the  journey  southward.  Xothing  unusual  occuri'ed  during  the  day. 
When  the  sun  was  setting  they  again  came  ujjon  a  covey  of  wild 


550  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.ann.S2 

turkeys,  one  of  which  was  killed,  and  after  being  dressed,  was  cooked 
and  eaten,  as  the  two  other  turkeys  had  been.  Afterward  the  sister 
prepared  a  temporary  shelter,  as  she  had  done  twice  before. 

In  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  they  again  set  forth  on  their 
journey  southward.  Toward  midday  the  sister  said,  "  Oh,  my 
brother!  I  see  a  lodge  in  the  distance  ahead  of  us.  Beside  it  stands 
a  very  tall  chestnut  tree.  Shall  I  continue  our  journey?  "  The  blind 
brother  replied,  "  Yes ;  go  on !  It  is  the  lodge  in  which  we  formerly 
lived.  Yes;  that  is  our  lodge  and  home."  Thereupon  the  sister  has- 
tened her  steps  and  they  soon  reached  the  lodge.  Within  they  found 
everything  that  was  common  to  the  lodges  of  those  ancient  times,  as 
clay  pots,  baskets,  wooden  mortars,  tubs  of  corn  and  beans,  and 
bundles  of  spicebush  twigs  for  use  in  making  a  warm  drink. 

Nothing  unusual  happened  to  the  blind  brother  or  to  his  sister 
until  the  third  day  after  their  arrival  at  their  old  home.  On  the 
morning  of  that  day,  while  the  sister  was  out  in  the  neighboring 
forest  gathering  fuel,  she  was  surprised  to  hear  some  person,  seem- 
ingly near  to  her.  say,  or  rather  whisper,  "Chit!"  Quickly  turning 
in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  proceeded,  she  was  .startled  to  see  a 
short  distance  away  a  handsome  young  man  looking  intently  at  her. 
After  talking  with  her  a  few  moments  he  made  her  a  proposal  of 
marriage,  in  reply  to  which  she  told  him  that  she  could  not  give  him 
a  definite  answer  without  first  consulting  her  brother.  Then  she 
asked  him  to  meet  her  at  the  same  time  and  i)lace  on  the  following 
day.  The  young  man  agreed  readily  to  her  proposition,  whereupon 
they  separated  without  further  ceremony. 

When  the  sister  returned  to  the  lodge  she  told  her  brother  of  meet- 
ing the  young  man,  and  asked  his  advice  with  regard  to  her  accept- 
ance or  refusal  of  the  offer  of  marriage.  He  replied  that  it  was  his 
•wish,  prompted  by  wise  policy,  that  she  should  accept  the  offer,  since 
the  young  man  was  a  noted  wizard,  son  of  the  notorious  witch, 
Gaho"'dji'da'*ho''k ;  for,  if  she  did  not  marry  him,  her  refusal  would 
be  tantiunount  to  a  sentence  of  death  on  each:  hence,  tlioy  must 
accept  the  inevitable. 

During  the  following  night  the  blind  brother  explained  in  detail 
the  reasons  for  his  advice  to  her  to  marry  the  young  man,  who  was 
the  son  of  the  great  witch,  Gaho'''dji"dii''ho"k,  the  relentless  enemy 
of  their  family  and  kin. 

The  next  morning  the  sister  went  into  the  forest  to  keep  tryst 
with  the  strange  young  man,  whom  she  found  there  awaiting  her 
coming.  She  told  him  at  once  that  her  brother  had  been  happy  to 
consent  to  have  her  marry  him.  He  .seemed  greatly  pleased  at  her 
reply  and  merely  said :  "  It  is  well.  I  will  be  at  your  lodge  tonight. 
So,  I  go  away  now."  So  they  two  parted  in  this  abrupt  way.  That 
night,  when  darkness  had  come,  the  strange  young  man  arrived  at 


^.^."i^S]  LEGENDS  551 

the  lodge  of  the  sister  and  her  l)lind  l)r()thei-.  lie  i-eiii;tiiied  over- 
nij,'ht  with  his  wife,  but  left  the  ludije  at  the  dawn..  Before  leaving, 
however,  he  assured  his  wife  that  he  would  return  at  night.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  came  to  the  lodge  that  night  also  and  remained  with 
his  wife  until  the  dawn,  wiien  he  (Icparted  as  he  liad  (lone  on  tlie 
previous  morning. 

Thus  he  came  and  depaited  for  seven  nights.  Then  he  said  to  hi- 
wife:  "It  is  my  wish  that  you  return  with  me  to  my  mother's 
lodge — my  home."  His  wife,  knowing  well  who  he  was  and  who  his 
mother  was.  readily  consented  to  accompany  him;  by  so  doing  siie 
was  faitli fully  carrying  out  the  policy  which  her  l)lind  brother  had 
advi.sed  iier  to  pursue  toward  him.  On  their  way  home\\ai(l,  while 
tlie  husband  was  leading  the  trail,  they  came  to  a  point  where  tlie 
path  divided  into  two  divergent  ways  which,  however,  after  form- 
ing an  oblong  loop,  reunited,  forming  once  more  only  a  single  path. 
Here  the  woman  was  surprised  to  see  her  husband's  body  divide  into 
two  forms,  one  follow  ing  the  one  patli  and  the  other  the  other  trail. 
She  was  indeed  greatl}'  puzzled  by  this  jjlienomenon,  for  she  was  at 
a  loss  to  know  which  of  the  figures  to  follow  as  her  husband.  For- 
tunately, siie  finally  resolved  to  follow  tlie  one  leaihng  to  the  right. 
After  following  this  j)ath  for  some  distance,  the  wife  ;-aw  that  the 
two  trails  reunited  and  also  that  the  tw-o  figures  of  her  husband 
coalesced  into  one.  It  is  said  that  this  circumstance  gave  ri.'^e  to  the 
name  of  tiiis  strange  man,  which  was  Degiyane'gefi';  that  is  to  say, 
"They  are  two  trails  running  parallel."  Not  long  after  the  two 
reached  the  husband's  home,  the  residence  of  the  notorious  witch, 
Ciaho""dji"da''ho"k,  who  welcomed  her  daughter-in-law  to  lu-r  lodge. 

In  due  course  the  wife  of  Degiyane'gefi'  gave  birth  to  male  twin.s. 
The  great  witch,  who  acted  as  midwife  to  hei-  daughter-in-law,  cast 
one  of  the  children  under  a  bed  and  the  other  undei-  another,  and 
then  nursed  her  daughter-in-law  and  instructed  her  as  to  her  (vjuduct 
during  convalescence. 

iSome  days  elapsed,  when  the  inmates  of  the  lodge  were  sui'])rised 
to  hear  sounds  issuing  from  beneath  the  beds  under  which  the  twins 
had  i)een  cast.  At  once  the  great  witch,  making  two  small  iialls  of 
deer  hair  and  i>U''kskin  and  also  two  lacrosse  ball  clubs,  gave  a  ball 
and  a  club  to  each  of  the  twins.  At  once  each  of  the  twins  began  to 
play  ball  beneath  the  bed  under  which  he  lived,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  each  of  the  little  boys  was  seen  to  pass  from  under  his  lied 
beneath  that  of  the  other.  Thus  they  amused  themselves  the  entire 
day,  but  at  night  each  of  the  twins  returned  under  his  own  bed. 
Day  after  day  the  twins  visited  back  and  forth.  There  came  a  dav, 
however,  when  one  of  the  twins  tossed  his  ball  uj)  in  such  wise  that 
it  flew  out  of  the  doorway  of  the  lodge.  Thei'eupon  the  two  young- 
sters followed  the  ball  so  nimbly  and  swiftly  that  thev  were  able  to 


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

overtake  it  before  it  struck  the  ground.  So  they  kept  batting  the 
ball  high  up  into  the  air  and  overtaking  it  before  it  could  reach  the 
ground  again.  After  playing  thus  for  long  hours,  each  would  re- 
turn to  his  own  retreat  beneath  the  bed  under  which  he  lived. 

This  outdoor  sport  was  indulged  in  by  the  twins  for  a  long  time. 
One  day,  on  being  tossed  into  the  air,  the  ball  at  once  took  a  course 
directly  toward  the  lodge  of  their  blind  uncle,  but  the  twins  kept 
up  with  it,  hitting  it  with  their  bats  before  it  could  touch  the  ground. 
They  did  not  notice  that  they  were  approaching  a  lodge,  hence 
they  were  greatly  surprised  to  see  it  finally  fall  into  the  smoke 
hole  of  the  lodge.  They  cautiously  approached  the  lodge  and.  peer- 
ing through  the  crevices  in  its  bark  M-alls,  they  saw  their  ball  in  the 
hands  of  a  man  with  eyeless  sockets. 

One  of  the  boys  said  to  the  other,  "  Lo.  Go  in,  and  get  the  ball," 
but  the  other  replied,  "  I  fear  him.  You  go."'  Finally  they  entered 
the  lodge  together  to  ask  the  man  to  give  them  back  their  ball. 
As  they  drew  near  the  man,  he  said  to  them:  "Do  not  be  afraid 
of  me.  Fear  not;  I  am  your  friend.  It  is  I  who  have  caused  you 
to  come  here  to  my  lodge.  By  sorcery  I  caused  your  ball  to  fall 
into  my  hand.  Indeed,  I  am  your  uncle,  your  mother's  brother. 
I  should  very  much  like  to  see  you  two,  but  you  observe  I  have  no 
eyes,  so  I  can  not  do  so."  At  this  the  twins  exclaimed  together: 
"Oh!  maternal  uncle,  how  did  you  lose  your  eyes?"  The  uncle  re- 
plied: "Your  grandmother,  Gaho"'dji'da"ho°k,  overmatched  me  in 
sorcery,  and  as  a  penalty  she  took  out  my  eyes,  so  I  am  blind."  The 
twins  answered :  "  Oh,  uncle !  we  desire  vei"y  much  that  you  see  us." 
To  this  the  uncle  replied:  "As  it  seems  to  be  an  impossibility  for 
me  to  see  again,  it  would  probably  be  useless  for  you  to  wish  me 
to  see  j'ou."  But  the  twins  said:  "We  will  try  to  make  you  able  to 
see  us." 

With  this  i-emark  the  twins  left  their  ball  and  their  lacrosse  clubs 
and  went  into  the  neighboring  forest.  They  had  not  gone  very  far 
before  they  met  Degeiis'ge  (the  Horned  Owl).  They  asked  him 
to  lend  them  his  eyes  for  a  short  time,  promising  to  return  them  to 
him  uninjured.  Complying  with  their  request  on  this  condition,  he 
removed  his  eyes  and  handed  them  to  the  twins;  then  he  sat  down 
to  await  their  return.  Delighted  with  their  success,  the  twins  has- 
tened back  to  the  lodge  to  their  uncle.  Placing  the  borrowed  eyes 
in  his  sightless  sockets,  they  asked  him  whether  he  could  see  with 
them,  whereupon  he  told  them  that  he  could  see  nothing.  Disap- 
pointed with  this  result,  the  twins  removed  the  eyes  from  their  uncle's 
head  and  returned  them  to  the  Degens'ge  (Horned  Owl)  in  the  for- 
est, thanking  him  for  his  kindness. 

Going  a  short  distance  farther  into  the  forest,  the  twins  met 
Ke'k"howa    (Barred  Owl),  whom  they  asked  to  lend  his  eyes  to 


CCRTI 
HE 


^,'^]  LEGENDS  .  553 


them  foi-  a  short  time.  He  readily  consented  on  condition  that  tiicy 
return  them  within  one  day.  So  the  twins  soon  had  his  eyes,  wliicii 
they  carried  back  to  the  lodjre  as  swiftly  as  their  feet  coukl  take 
them.  Hut  after  inserting  tliem  into  tlieir  uncle's  eyeless  sockets, 
they  were  ajiain  disappointed  to  hear  him  say:  "  It  is  indeed  too  bad; 
I  can  not  see  anything  with  thorn."  So  removing  the  eyes,  the  twins 
carrieil  them  back  to  Ke'k'iiowa.  whom  they  thanked  for  his  kind- 
ness. 

The  twins  were  not  to  be  easily  defeated,  however,  in  their  pur- 
pose, so  they  went  still  farther  into  the  forest.  There  they  met 
Odounyon'da'  (the  Eagle),  and  they  at  once  asked  him  to  lend  them 
his  eyes  for  a  short  time.  The  Eagle  readily  consented  to  part  with 
them  for  a  day,  and  in  a  moment  the  twins  were  hurrying  homeward 
with  them.  After  they  had  placed  these  in  their  uncle's  sockets  he 
told  them  that  he  could  not  see  things  clearly,  merely  faint  outlines 
of  them.  So  once  more  they  remo\ed  the  eyes  and  gratefully  re- 
turned them  to  the  Eagle. 

Not  to  be  thus  batlied  in  the  attempt  to  enable  their  uncle  to  see 
them,  one  of  the  lads  proposed  to  the  other  that  each  lend  their 
uncle  an  eye  from  his  own  head.  To  this  proposal  the  other  readily 
consented.  Each  of  the  lads  having  removed  one  of  his  eyes,  the  two 
started  for  the  lodge  of  their  uncle.  When  they  reached  his  side 
they  placed  the  eyes  in  their  uncle's  head,  who  at  once  exclaimed 
in  delight :  "  Oh  !  I  can  see.  Oh !  I  am  so  glad  to  be  able  to  see  you 
two,  my  nephews."  Then,  after  taking  a  glance  around  the  lodge,  he 
returned  the  borrowed  eyes  to  his  wonderful  nephews,  who  said 
to  him:  "We  will  now  go  away  to  get  back  your  own  eyes;  so  be  of 
good  cheer  for  a  short  time.    We  start  now." 

But  their  blind  uncle  replied :  ''  Knowing  what  T  do.  it  seems 
impossible  for  you  two  lads  to  accomplish  your  purpose.  So  take 
courage  and  be  brave."  Then,  after  a  moment  of  silence,  he  added 
by  way  of  advice:  "  Kemember  this:  My  eyes  are  partly  liloodshot, 
and  they  are  attached  to  the  swaddling  wrappings  of  a  female 
child,  who  is  still  fastened  to  a  cradle  board,  and  whom  they  serve 
as  breast  ornaments.  The  lodge  in  which  this  ciiild  may  be  found 
has  a  fox  skin  as  its  clan  mark  and  .stands  far  away  in  cloud- 
land.  And.  my  nephews,  no  one  can  enter  that  land  unseen  by  the 
sleepless  eyes  of  the  grim  warder,  who  is  called  Hane'iiwa',^-*  and 
who  on  the  approach  of  a  stranger  gives  the  alarm  by  three  terrific 
shouts.    So  have  courage,  my  nephews." 

T^ndaimted,  the  lads  left  the  lodge,  and  going  to  a  neighboi-ing 
swamp  they  set  to. work  industriously  collecting  a  vast  quantity  of 
swamp  grass,  which  they  placed  on  a  large  pile.  Wien  they  had 
collected  a  sullicieut  quantity  they  set  the  pile  on  fire,  and  when 
the  flames  leaped  the  highest  the  lads,  casting  themselves  into  their 


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

midst,  were  borne  aloft  on  the  huge  billows  of  smoke,  which  mounted 
ever  higher  and  higher,  and  were  soon  in  cloudland,  where  they 
came  down  in  the  form  of  cinders. 

Then  one  of  the  lads  called  two  mice,  which  he  instructed  to 
creep  cautiously  under  the  leaves,  grass,  and  rubbish  to  a  certain 
lodge  having  a  fox  skin  for  a  clan  mark,  and  to  emerge  from 
the  trail  as  near  the  lodge  as  possible  without  being  apprehended  by 
the  warder,  Hane"hwa'.  Then  each  lad  entered  one  of  the  mice, 
and  the  two  mice,  burrowing  along  under  the  leaves  and  other 
i-ubbish.  soon  came  out  just  where  they  had  been  directed  to  emerge. 
Notwitiistanding  their  caution  and  ruse,  Hane"hwa'  knew  the  pur- 
pose which  the  two  mice  had  in  coming,  but  before  he  could  give 
the  alarm  one  of  the  lads  said  to  him:  "Keep  silence.  We  will  give 
you  a  quantity  of  wild  beans  if  you  consent  to  our  request."  Believ- 
ing the  lads  to  be  harmless  and  to  be  on  a  mere  sporting  expedition  to 
show  their  powers  of  metamorphosis,  he  readily  consented  to  per- 
mit them  unheralded  to  pass  to  their  destination. 

Having  thus  easily  passed  the  warder  of  the  lodge  of  Ga- 
ho"''dji'da''ho''k,  the  two  lads,  assuming  the  form  and  size  of  fleas,  at 
once  entered  the  portico  or  porch  of  the  lodge,  in  which  several  of 
their  aunts,  sisters  of  their  father,  were  pounding  corn  in  wooden 
mortars  with  wooden  pestles.  As  fleas  the  lads,  unnoticed,  quickly 
crawled  up  the  legs  of  these  women,  and  by  vicious  bites  soon  caused 
the  corn  pounders  to  fall  to  fighting  among  themselves,  believing 
that  they  had  been  cruelly  pinched  by  their  mates.  By  crawling  on 
and  biting  the  legs  of  all  the  women  the  lads  were  able  to  make  all 
of  them  fight.  In  fighting,  the  women,  influenced  by  the  orenda  of 
the  boys,  employed  their  wooden  pestles  in  striking  their  oppcments 
on  the  head,  fracturing  their  skulls.  Thus,  in  a  short  time  the 
women  had  destroyed  one  another. 

After  all  the  women  were  either  dead  or  stretched  out  unconscious 
with  fractured  skulls,  the  lads  cautioned  the  warder,  Hane''hwa', 
not  to  inform  Degiyane'geii',  their  father,  what  he  had  seen  them  do, 
should  he  come  there  inquiring  about  his  sisters.  They  told  him  to 
sing  for  their  father  the  following  song: 

I>^-(;""?k""7)i?"Ao'  fihahetcJwna''  oti'^sen. 
Oekc''ne'')ie'^ho'    skahctchon(V    oW'sen. 

The  warder  consented  to  do  what  his  Ijoy  friends  had  asked  him  to 
do.  Thereupon  the  lads  quickly  entered  the  lodge  to  which  was 
attached  the  fox  skin  clan  badge.  They  soon  found  the  cradle 
board  on  which  was  fastened  the  female  child,  even  as  their  uncle 
had  told  them,  but  they  were  greatly  astonished  when  they  saw  that 
the  eyes  of  many  persons  adorned  the  swaddling  clothes  (wrap- 
pings).    Quickly  but  carefully  examining  these  eyes,  which  served 


Z!'^!t4]  legends  555 

as  tlie  breast  ornaments  of  the  child,  they  soon  found  the  eyes  of  their 
uncle,  wliich  were  partially  bloodshot.  When  they  had  secured 
these  they  removed  also  the  others,  in  pairs,  and,  tossing  them  up 
into  the  air,  said  to  them :  "  Return  to  the  place  whence  you  were 
taken  by  stealth."  At  once  these  eyes  took  flight  and  returned  to 
their  owners.  After  killing  the  female  child  and  compassing  the 
death  of  the  treacherous  Ilane'iiwa'.  the  lads  started  for  home  with 
their  uncle's  eyes. 

^\'hen  the  boys  reached  the  point  whence  they  unist  descend  they 
assumed  the  size  and  form  of  fleas,  and.  using  the  seed  heads  of  the 
dandelion  as  parachutes,  they  easily  floated  down  from  cloudland 
to  the  eartii.  (Joing  directly  to  the  lodge  of  their  uncle,  they  re- 
turned to  him  his  eyes.  He  was  delighted  beyond  measure  when  he 
found  that  his  nephews  had  been  successful  in  their  expedition  and 
had  so  speedily  brouglit  back  his  eyes. 

The  lads  had  killed  the  baby  in  cloudland  l)y  means  of  jiotent 
drugs  given  them  by  their  uncle  while  they  wei"e  still  on  the  earth. 
Before  starting  their  uncle  had  told  them  not  to  fail  to  put  this 
deadly  drug  on  the  baby,  for  he  knew  that  the  child  was  the  life 
itself  of  the  great  witch,  Gaho"'dji\la''h()"k.  Through  its  death  the 
witch  herself  necessarily  died,  because  the  child  was  her  life,  not  hei- 
baby,  as  it  ajjpeared  to  be.  Thus,  Gaho"'dji'da''ho"k  was  destroyed 
and  the  young  deanoa'do"''  man  at  last  was  revenged  on  her,  jjartly 
through  the  potent  orenda  of  his  nephews  and  partly  by  means  of 
the  potent  ''medicine"  with  which  he  had  armed  them  before  they 
iiad  started  on  their  expedition  into  cloudland. 

11.").  The  Leokno  of  tuy.  Misogamist 

In  ancient  days,  it  is  said,  thei'e  lived  a  good  m<ither  and  her  son 
in  a  lodge  that  stood  alone.  \ow.  the  son  was  a  very  successfid 
hunter:  in  the  chase  of  all  kinds  of  game  animals  he  had  no  com- 
petitor. The  jiossossion  of  an  overflowing  larder  and  of  rare  an<l 
excellent  furs  and  skins  gave  liini  an  enxiable  ]ii'e,stige  ainoni:  his 
peoi)le. 

It  was  natural  among  a  hunter  pe<iple  that  the  ]irowess  of  the 
young  man  in  the  chase  should  make  him  an  attractive  figure  in  the 
eyes  of  all  the  mothers  among  his  peo]de  who  had  marriageable 
daugiiteis.  .'^o  these  thrifty  mothers  urged  their  daughters  to  make 
the  usual  marriage  bread  and  to  go  to  his  lodge  with  proposals  of 
marriage.  Kach  of  these  oliedient  dauglitei's  woidd  say:  "Indeed, 
1  believe  that  thou  and  I  should  marry."  This  was  the  address 
made  to  the  young  man  after  the  young  woman  had  .set  her  basket  of 
marriage  bread  before  him.  seated,  to  receive  her.  In  replying,  the 
young  man  would  say  to  each :  "  In  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  it  is  my 


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

settled  purpose  not  to  marry  anyone,  as  I  have  no  desire  to  do  so." 
Thereupon  the  young  woman,  having  failed  in  her  suit,  would  re- 
turn to  her  home. 

This  pursuit  of  the  young  man  by  the  marriageable  daughters  of 
the  community  continued  for  many  seasons.  As  each  maiden  came 
with  her  proposal  of  marriage  the  youth  invariably  made  the  same 
answer.  During  all  this  time  his  mother  continued  to  remonstrate 
with  him  on  account  of  his  firm  resolution  not  to  marry,  telling  him 
repeatedly  that  it  was  a  well-known  fact  that  one  who  acted  as  he 
was  doing  would  surely  be  punished  for  his  attitude  by  some  gi-eat 
calamity.     He  refused,  however,  to  listen  to  her  remonstrances. 

Now,  it  was  his  custom  to  go  every  autimin  to  hunt  in  the  forest, 
and  he  would  return  home  with  great  quantities  of  venison  and  other 
meat,  and  furs  and  skins.  All  the  people  who  had  none  of  these 
things  came  to  the  lodge  where  the  mother  and  son  lived  together 
because  they  wished  to  trade  for  some  of  the  meat  or  for  some  of 
the  furs  or  skins,  each  one  bringing  therefor  something  of  value.  One 
would  bring  a  bracelet,  saying :  "  For  this  cut  me  off  a  small  portion 
of  meat  of  the  bear,  of  venison,  or  of  some  other  kind."  Another 
would  bring  a  burden  strap,  saying :  "  For  this  give  me  the  skin  of 
a  beaver,  or  a  small  portion  of  bear's  meat,  for  I  have  come  to  buy." 
This  trading  continued  for  some  years,  and  all  kept  saying  of  the 
young  man :  "  He  is  indeed  immune  to  adverse  orenda." 

After  a  while  another  autumn  came,  and  again  he  started  alone  on 
a  hunting  trip  into  the  forests  where  he  knew  game  was  always 
abundant  and  in  which  it  was  his  custom  to  camp  for  the  season. 
Having  reached  the  place  where  his  hunting  lodge  stood,  he  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  repair  it  and  to  supply  it  with  suitable  fuel  and 
other  necessities.  Then  he  went  forth  to  hunt,  as  was  his  custom. 
He  was  very  successful,  returning  every  day  to  camp  with  the  game 
he  had  killed. 

After  a  certain  number  of  days  thus  spent  he  lay  down  one  night 
to  rest,  as  usual.  But  in  the  middle  of  the  night  it  so  happened  that  he 
moved  about  in  his  bed.  and  he  was  greatly  surprised  by  feeling  what 
seemed  to  be  a  woman  lying  beside  him.  No  one  had  ever  slept 
with  him  before,  man  or  woman.  Thereupon  the  surprised  misoga- 
mist  said:  "  Lo,  who  are  you?"  The  young  woman,  for  such  she 
was,  in  a  fascinating  voice  which  thrilled  the  heart  of  the  young 
man,  replied :  "  Oh !  I  desired  to  visit  the  place  where  you  are  only 
because  of  the  love  which  I  have  for  you."  Saying  this  softly,  she 
threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  fervently  embraced  him.  He 
remained  perfectly  quiet,  making  no  protest  against  the  fondling  of 
the  beautiful  maiden.  Without  further  ceremony  the  yoiing  woman 
joyously  exclaimed :  "  Come  now !  let  us  two  go  to  sleep  again."  But 
the  young  man  lost  consciousness  at  once,  and  the  last  thing  he  re- 


^r-^]  LEGENDS  557 

membered  wore  the  words  of  the  young  wom;in.  It  was  aftor  tlic 
dawn  of  day  that  he  awoke.  Uncovering  his  head,  he  found  that 
he  was  (juite  ahme.  and  tliat.  in  fact,  the  young  woman  was  nut  any- 
where around.  He  was  greatly  astonished  at  what  had  hajipened. 
and  said  to  himself  in  wonder:  "What  is  this  tliat  lias  liefaUen  me? 
Now.  indeed,  has  come  to  pass  perhaps  wiiat  my  dear  mother  has 
been  saying  to  me.  for  has  she  not  Icept  telling  me  that  I  would  be 
punished  sooner  or  later  foi-  my  unreasoning  attitude  toward  those 
who  June  desired  to  marry  me.  Now  I  shall  start  for  my  home,  for 
1  am  seized  with  fear."' 

He  set  to  work  at  onrc  making  up  liis  park  and  iiuUing  the  lodge 
in  order  for  his  depaiture.  "\Mien  he  ha<l  comjileted  his  prejjara- 
tions  he  started  for  home. 

At  the  end  of  the  day's  journey  he  camped  for  the  night  iti  the 
place  where  he  usually  sto]i]ied  for  this  purpose.  Aftei'  kindling  a 
hot  fire  in  the  temporary  shelter  he  set  to  work  warming  some  pieces 
of  cold  meat  which  he  had  bi'ought  with  him.  and  then  sat  down  to 
eat  his  supper.  When  he  had  linisheil  his  uical  he  made  ready  to 
rest  for  the  night.  It  was  quite  dark,  for  the  evening  was  then  far 
spent.  As  he  sat  resting  he  was  suddenly  surprised  to  heai-  noises 
that  seemed  to  draw  nearer  and  nearer.  He  could  plainly  hear  the 
sounds,  .sa'',  •?(/'',  s«",  and  also  sounds  caused  by  the  moving  aside 
and  breaking  of  sticks  and  small  twigs,  and  the  branches  of  trees 
falling.  Seized  with  a  great  fear,  he  at  once  added  snudl  dry  sticks 
to  the  fire,  which  blazed  up,  giving  a  great  light,  which  cnai)led  him 
to  see  whether  anything  was  approaching  his  shelter.  Suddenly  he 
saw  standing  at  the  end  of  the  illumined  space  a  vei-y  large  woman. 
After  a  moment's  hesitation  she  came  up  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
tire  and,  addressing  the  now  thoroughly  frightened  young  man.  said  ; 
"It  is  just  this:  I  have  come  here  with  the  desire  that  you  should 
give  me  a  piu'tion  of  meat."'  To  look  at  her  one  would  have  thought 
that  she  was  in  all  respects  a  human  being,  as  she  stood  gazing  toward 
the  youth.  As  quickly  as  possible  he  took  from  his  pack  a  quarter  of 
meat,  which  he  heaved  over  the  fire  toward  the  woman,  who  caught 
it.  Then  she  began  to  eat  it,  while  the  blood  drip[)ed  down  on  her 
breast  and  over  her  garments.  Thus  she  ate  up  a  quarter  of  meat. 
When  she  had  finished  she  said:  "The  only  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to 
return  to  this  place  in  the  autumn,  when  the  season  changes  again." 
So  saying,  she  turned  at  once  and  started  away,  leaving  the  young 
man  more  astonished  than  ever.  Soon  she  was  lost  to  view  in  the 
darkness. 

Thereupon  the  youth  was  seized  wnth  great  fear,  and  he  kept  say- 
ing to  himself:  "Now  indeed  has  been  fulfilled  the  saying  of  my 
dear  mother;  I  am  suffering  the  penalty  which  she  told  me  would 
befall  for  my  refusal  to  marry  some  of  the  marriageable  daughters 


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

of  my  people.  But  with  it  all,  I  think  thiit  when  I  have  returned 
home  I  shall  not  i-elate  what  has  befallen  me  on  this  ti"ip.  Moreover, 
in  case  some  shall  say  to  me,  '  Let  us  marry,'  I  will  consent  at  once." 
Of  course  he  did  not  fall  asleep  during  the  entire  night.  Very  early 
in  the  morning  he  ate  some  cold  meat,  and  then  taking  up  his  pack, 
he  started  for  home.  Having  arrived  there,  he  hung  his  pack  on 
the  wall  of  the  lodge.  His  mother  said:  "I  am  thankful  for  this." 
Noticing  a  changed  expression  on  his  face,  she  said  to  him:  "Lo, 
pray  what  has  befallen  you.  since  you  have  i-eturned  so  soon  after 
your  departure?  "  The  son  replied:  "  Something  unusual  happened, 
it  would  seem.  I  became  homesick;  this  is  the  reason  that  I  returned 
home  at  once." 

During  the  time  that  the  son  was  away  hunting  many  women 
visited  the  mother,  who  were  continually  asking  her  consent  to  a 
marriage  with  him.  So  now  the  mother  said  to  him:  "I  will  tell 
you  that  three  maidens  paid  me  visits,  who  proposed  marriage  with 
you;  these  maidens  you  know  well,  as  they  are  the  three  who  have 
been  the  most  insistent  on  marrying  you.  So  now  it  is  for  you  to 
choose  which  of  these  three,  or  if  not  one  of  these,  then  whom  are 
you  willing  to  marry?  I  do  not  know  what  may  happen  should 
you  again  find  it  impossible  to  consent  to  marry  one  of  the.se 
maidens."  At  once  the  son  replied :  "  I  will  consent  to  taking  one 
of  these  maidens  in  marriage.  I  will  marry  without  further  ado." 
He  then  informed  his  mother  which  of  the  maidens  he  would  marry, 
for  he  well  knew  the  names  of  all  those  who  had  come  to  his  mother's 
lodge  with  their  baskets  of  marriage  bread.  This  answer  greatly 
pleased  his  mother,  who  said  to  him:  "It  is  indeed  the  right  thing 
for  you  to  do.  foi-  many  women  have  come  here  to  ask  you  to  marry 
them.  Now  I  will  bring  here  the  chosen  one."  So  saying,  she  went 
at  once  to  the  lodge  of  the  maiden  of  his  choice. 

On  entering  the  lodge  of  the  maiden  she  greeted  her  and  her 
mother,  and,  after  informing  them  of  the  purpose  of  the  visit,  said 
to  the  former:  "I  have  come  after  you  to  bring  you  to  our  lodge 
and  fire.  My  son  has  consented  to  marry  you :  so  you  will  accompany 
me  home,  and  you  it  will  be  who  will  dwell  with  her  spou.se's 
people."  The  maiden,  agreeing  to  the  proposition,  said :  "  So  let  it 
be;  I  am  willing  to  marry  him."  Thereupon  the  two  returned  to 
the  lodge  of  the  mother  of  the  young  man,  the  misogamist.  They 
reached  the  lodge,  and,  on  entering  it.  the  mother  said  to  her  son  :  "  I 
have  brouglit  with  me  her  who  is  my  daughter-in-hiw.  Now  I  will 
speak  a  few  words:  Oh,  my  child!  you  must  continue  to  love  her; 
you  must  have  compassion  for  her:  never  vex  her  in  mind  or  body; 
never  let  it  be  .said  that  you  are  one  of  those  who  kill  their  spouses. 
Some  grasp  them  by  the  hair  of  the  head  to  abuse  them;  never  do 
you  thus.    I  am  through."    This  speech  she  addressed  to  her  son. 


iK«Mr;]  LEGENDS  559 


crnT 
I 


The  maiden  remained  thei'O  one  I'ntii-e  year,  and  she  pro])erIy  ful- 
filled the  duties  of  a. good  wife.  A  little  later  she  gave  liirth  to  a 
daughter.  'J"he  ehiJd  was  very  hand.some.  and  she  was  also  very  large 
and  healthy  and  strong.  In  all  respects  she  was  of  the  size  and 
lianliiiess  of  a  child  who  was  large  enough  to  be  boi'ne  on  the  l)ack 
in  a  cradle  board. 

Now  the  time  had  ai-rived  in  which  the  men  wlio  were  capable  of 
doing  so  sexiTally  went  out  to  their  hunting  grounds  autumn  had 
come.  One  day  the  young  man  said:  "My  dear  mother,  you  will 
prepare  provisions  for  a  journey,  for  I  am  again  going  out  to  hunt, 
and  I  am  thinking  of  ha\iiig  my  wife  acc((m])aiiy  me,  as  the  child 
is  sufficiently  strong  and  hai'dy  to  be  borne  on  her  mother's  back 
in  a  cradle  board.  I  will  bear  by  means  oi  the  forehead  strap  tiie 
provisions  that  we  will  take  with  us." 

Then  the  mother  proceeded  to  prepare  the  com  bread  in  the  usual 
way.  and  the  parche<l  corn  meal  sweetened  with  honey  or  maple 
sugar.  When  the  bread  was  cooked  she  removed  it  from  the  boiling 
water  and  set  to  work  pre{)aring  the  pack,  in  which  she  ])laced  all 
the  bread,  making  what  was  called  a  wrapped  pack,  ^^'hen  she  in- 
formed her  son  that  she  had  completed  the  task  of  ])re]iaring  the 
food  for  the  journey,  he  said:  "Tomorrow,  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  two  will  start  on  our  journey." 

Accordingly  next  morning  the  husband  anfl  wife  set  out.  The 
wife  bore  their  chilfl  on  hei-  liack  by  means  of  the  cradle  board  and 
forehead  strap,  and  the  husband  cai-i-ied  the  wrap])ed  jiack,  contain- 
ing boil(>d  corn  bread  and  ])archeii  ciirn  meal  mixeil  with  sugar  ami 
honey,  by  means  of  the  forehea<l  .straji.  After  traveling  all  day,  in 
the  evening  they  reached  a  spot  where  it  was  the  custom  of  the  hus- 
band to  camp  for  the  night;  this  was  a  good  day's  journey  from 
their  lodge.  He  set  to  work  at  once  rejjaii'ing  the  temjiorary  shelter 
and  kindling  a  large  fire.  Meanwhile  the  young  wife  warmed  up 
some  cold  meat  and  the  boiled  coi-n  bread  which  they  had  brought 
in  the  pack.  Their  evening  meal  prepared,  the  two  ate  heartily. 
When  they  had  finished  their  supjjcr  they  made  ready  a  rude  couch 
of  bark  and  boughs  on  which  they  lay  down  for  th<'  night.  The 
wife's  mind  was  contented. 

In  the  moining  the  husband  rekindled  the  fiie.  and  the  wife 
wanned  up  more  of  the  cold  boiled  corn  bread.  When  they  ha<l  eaten 
their  fill  the  husband  at  once  repacked  their  belongings.  He  also 
closed  the  temporary  shelter  in  order  to  preserve  it  for  their  return. 
Then  he  said  to  his  wife:  "Now  let  us  depart.  Our  jouiney  will 
require  fully  the  time  of  the  entire  day,  and  we  will  arrive  at 
my  hunting  camp  in  the  evening."  As  predicted,  they  reached  their 
journey's  end  as  the  sun  was  sinking  low  in  the  west.  Its  crimson 
raA's  shot  upward  through  the  treetops  and  along  the  western  .sky. 


560  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.s* 

The  husband  quickly  began  to  make  his  hunting  lodge  ready  for 
occupation  and  also  kindled  a  large  fire.  While  the  wife  was  warm- 
ing up  the  meats  and  the  corn  bread  the  husband  kept  on  repairing 
the  lodge  by  filling  up  the  crevices  with  moss  and  replacing  such 
pieces  of  bark  as  had  fallen  off.  He  desired  to  make  the  lodge  warm 
and  comfortable,  especially  on  account  of  their  baby.  When  it  was 
too  dark  to  continue  his  work  the  wife  called  him  to  their  supper. 
They  were  happy  and  contented.  After  finishing  their  meal  they 
prepared  their  rude  bed  and  retired  for  the  night.  Before  falling 
asleep  the  husband  said  to  his  wife:  "Tomorrow  I  will  go  out  to 
hunt  again." 

Next  morning,  as  soon  as  they  had  finished  eating  breakfast,  the 
husband  said  to  his  wife:  "I  am  about  to  start  out  to  hunt  now,  and 
you  two  will  remain  alone.  Perhaps  I  may  not  return  until  just  be- 
fore sunset.  Of  course,  should  I  have  very  great  success.  I  will  re- 
turn home  at  once."  So  saying,  he  left  the  lodge.  Just  before  sunset 
he  returned,  carrying  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap  the  entire  body 
of  a  fine  deer.  He  set  to  work  at  once  skinning  the  carcass.  Wlien 
this  task  was  completed  he  quartered  the  animal  and  hung  up  the 
parts  to  cure,  but  not  before  he  had  selected  some  choice  pieces  for 
their  supper.  These  the  young  wife  quickly  prepared,  and  they  ate 
their  evening  meal  in  jaeace  and  quiet.  The  wife  was,  of  course,  very 
much  pleased  to  have  fresh  venison  to  eat;  she  was  indeed  happy. 
Then  they  retired  for  the  night  and  were  soon  asleep.  In  the  morn- 
ing the  husband  again  started  out  to  hunt,  saying  to  his  wife: 
"  You  two  will  remain  at  home  alone,"  assuring  her  that  he  would 
retui-n  as  soon  as  he  was  successful  in  his  hunting. 

Thus  many  days  passed.  The  hunter  was  very  successful  in  his 
hunting,  always  bringing  home  large  quantities  of  venison,  bear, 
moose,  and  elk  meat  and  various  other  kinds  of  game.  He  and  his 
wife  had  a  great  quantity  of  meat  hanging  around  the  sides  of  their 
lodge  to  cure,  and  also  many  fine  furs  and  skins. 

Toward  sunset  one  day  the  young  wife  went  out  of  the  lodge  to 
procure  fuel  for  the  fire  while  the  child  lay  asleep.  As  she  was 
walking  around,  she  heard  sounds  made  by  some  one  approach- 
ing through  the  woods;  thereupon  she  hastily  gathered  an  armful 
of  wood  and,  quickly  reentering  the  lodge,  took  a  seat  near  her 
sleeping  baby.  In  a  short  time,  as  she  looked  out  through  the  open- 
ings in  the  forest,  she  saw  suddenly  a  very  large  woman  approaching, 
bearing  on  her  back  an  unusually  large  child.  At  once  she  became 
fearful,  exclaiming:  "What  shall  I  do  to  save  us?  Perhaps  we  two 
shall  now  die?"  So  saying,  she  quietly  awaited  the  coming  of  the 
strange  woman.  In  a  few  minutes  the  latter  entered  the  lodge  and, 
standing  in  the  dqorway.  said  to  the  frightened  woman:  "Do  not 
have  any  fear  of  me,  for  I  come  with  no  ill  feeling  in  my  mind 


cuuTiv,]  LEGENDS  561 

toward  you  and  yours;  there  is  no  evd  in  my  mind,  so,  above  all. 
do  not  fear  me."  Witli  these  words,  she  walked  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  tire  and  took  a  seat  there.  The  youa.c  wife  noticed  that  the 
two  children  were  e.xactly  the  same  size.  Althouyh  the  stranger  kept 
comforting  her  by  telling  her  not  to  be  afraid,  that  she  had  not  come 
to  the  lodge  for  any  evil  puri)ose.  her  hostess  was  so  fearful  that  she 
made  no  replies,  but  she  kepi  lliiiiking:  "It  is  certainly  unfortunate 
th:it  my  iiusband  does  not  return  at  once.  I  wish  he  would  come. 
This  is  ill-omened."'  jMeanwhile  the  strange  woman  continued  to 
remain  quiet.  Looking  ut  her  face,  one  would  think  that  she  was 
human,  although  she  was  so  tall  and  so  stout  that  she  appeared 
uncanny. 

Now  there  came  sounds  from  a  distance,  as  the  sun  was  low  in 
the  west,  and  the  expected  husband  returned  home.  lie  entered 
his  lodge,  bearing  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap  the  entire  car- 
cass of  a  deer.  lie  cast  the  burden  down,  giving  merely  a  passing 
glance  at  the  woman  seated  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  with- 
out saying  a  word.  The  young  wife  then  set  to  work  getting  his 
supper.  When  she  had  set  the  food  before  him  he  said  to  her: 
'•  You  would  better  give  some  food  to  the  woman  sitting  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  tire."  His  wife  willingly  obeyed  this  sugges- 
tion, carrying  to  her  in  a  bark  bowl  a  generous  supply  of  food,  and 
saying:  "This  is  for  you  to  eat."  But  the  woman  (or  what  seemed 
to  be  one)  refused  to  accept  it,  answering:  "I  do  not  eat  that  kind 
of  food."  At  this  the  wife,  of  course,  went  back  to  her  side  of  the 
fire.  Her  husband  sat  with  his  back  toward  the  strange  wouian  and 
studiously  refrained  from  saying  a  word.  i)ut  kei)t  on  eating.  In  a 
few  minutes  the  strange  woman  spoJie.  saying:  "Me  knows  what 
kind  of  food  I  am  accustomed  to  eat."  At  once  he  rose,  ami,  reach- 
ing up,  took  down  a  (pinrter  of  venison,  which  he  threw  o\er  the 
fire  back  of  him  toward  the  strange  woman.  She  caught  this  as  it 
came  to  her.  The  wife  was  intently  watching  what  was  taking 
place.  The  stranger  proceeded  at  once  to  eat  the  raw  xenison.  antl 
in  a  short  time  she  had  devoured  the  entire  quarter.  While  eating, 
the  strange  woman  kept  saying:  "I  am  very  glad  indeed.  My  wish 
has  been  fulfilled,  for  I  desired  to  come  here  on  a  visit."  \\'hen 
night  had  come  and  they  were  ready  to  retire  to  rest,  tlii'  ]ni>liand 
prepared  his  mat  at  the  feet  of  his  wife  and  child,  while  the  strange 
woman  and  her  child  lay  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  which  was 
the  guest's  side  according  to  custom.  The  young  wife  of  the  hunter, 
wh»)  was  thoroughly  frightened,  kept  thinking:  "I  just  do  not 
know  what  may  befall  us  that  is  imtoward." 

In  the  morning  the  husband  arose,  and   having  I'obuilt   the   (ire. 
his    wife    proceeded    (piite    early    to    prepare    breakfast    for    theui. 

94C15°— IG 30 


562  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [Exn.  ann.  32 

When  they  two  were  about  to  begin  eating  the  husband  again  took 
down  a  quarter  of  venison,  which  he  threw  over  his  shoulder  across 
the  fire  to  the  strange  woman,  who  caught  it  and  began  to  eat  it  raw, 
the  blood  even  dripping  from  her  mouth,  so  ravenously  did  she  eat. 
When  they  had  eaten  breakfast  the  strange  woman  said :  "  Now,  my 
wish  has  been  fulfilled — my  wish  to  visit  this  place."  All  remained 
there  in  the  lodge.  After  a  while,  however,  the  strange  woman 
arose,  carrying  her  child,  and,  walking  over  to  where  the  hunter  was 
seated,  said  to  him :  "  Lo,  take  this  child,  for  it  is  but  your  own 
child.  Here  it  is."  Shrinking  away,  the  husband  drew  back  his 
hands,  but  the  woman,  preferring  that  he  should  have  the  child,  gave 
it  to  him,  so  he  had  to  accept  it.  Thereupon,  the  woman  said,  "  I 
desired  that  he  should  just  look  on  his  child,  and  it  was  for  this 
reason  that  we  two  came  hither."  So  saying,  she  returned  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire,  where  she  again  seated  herself.  The  hus- 
band sat  still,  holding  his  child,  dubious  as  to  its  real  character. 
After  a  while  he  arose,  and  going  over  to  the  place  where  the  woman 
sat,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  he  gave  the  child  back  to  its 
mother.  Then  returning  to  his  own  side  of  the  room,  saying,  "  I  am 
now  going  out  to  hunt  again,"  he  started  from  the  lodge. 

In  the  meantime  the  two  women  remained  in  the  lodge  with  their 
children  of  the  same  size.  The  strange  woman  said  to  her  com- 
panion in  a  comforting  way:  "  You  must  not  have  any  fear  of  me." 
When  her  child  fell  asleep  she  laid  it  down  on  her  couch  and  care- 
fully covered  it  with  a  skin  robe.  Then,  turning  to  her  hostess,  she 
said :  "  I  will  fetch  some  fuel,  because  it  is  so  difficult  and  trying  for 
you  at  all  times  to  have  to  bring  it."  With  these  words  she  left  the 
lodge  in  quest  of  wood.  She  was  absent  a  long  time,  when  suddenly 
there  came  a  sound,  da — h.  which  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  as 
if  one  wei-e  dragging  some  great  object  along  the  ground.  On  look- 
ing out  to  see  the  cause  of  the  noise,  the  hunter's  wife  saw  the 
strange  woman  approaching  with  a  huge  tree  in  her  arms,  which 
she  threw  down  just  outside  the  doorway;  it  was  a  whole  dead  tree, 
which  was  dry  and  hard.  She  proceeded  at  once  to  break  up  the 
tree,  and  when  she  had  finished  her  task  there  was  a  great  pile  of 
wood — fuel  for  the  lodge  fire.  The  wife  of  the  hunter  was  greatly 
astonished  at  the  enormous  strength  of  the  strange  woman,  and  she 
again  was  filled  with  great  fear.  Tiien  the  other  woman,  entering 
the  lodge,  said :  "  I  have  now  supplied  you  with  a  quantity  of  fuel." 
Thereupon,  she  seated  herself  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire. 

She  had  just  taken  her  seat,  when  suddenly  she  arose,  saying: 
"  'A"ha' !  Now  comes  my  husband  trailing  me.  Have  courage  now, 
oh,  my  friend !  and  help  me.  Hasten  !  Be  quick !  Go  cut  basswood 
poles,  three  in  number,  and  you  must  sharpen  them.  You  must  be 
quick   about  it,  too,   for   if  he  shall   overpower   us  we   two   must 


'nV^l^]  LEGENDS  563 

perish."  The  hunter's  wife  ran  out  as  swiftly  as  possible,  and  having 
cut  the  basswood  poles  and  sharpened  them,  returned  to  the  lodge. 
The  other  woman  then  said :  "  You  must  harden  ^■'^  their  points 
in  the  tire  by  turiiirii;:  tiiem  over  carefully:  let  tlu-m  be  Inn-ninp.  As 
soon  as  we  meet  at  the  doorway  we  shall  fiLjlit.  ami  we  .-hall  liirlit  on 
the  outside  of  the  lodfje.  And.  of  course,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
he  will  overpower  me.  I'oi-  he  is  vei-y  powerful.  "When  he  throws  me 
ami  falls  on  the  top  of  inc.  you  must  quickly  take  one  of  the  burning 
poles  from  the  hre  and  tiirust  it  in  ainuu  ejus,  turninij  it  around 
therein  \  igorously.  and  then  withdraw  it.  You  nnist  (piickly  do  like- 
wise with  the  other  two  buinin^^  poles.  Thereupon,  he  will  soon  be- 
come weak,  and  then  I  shall  o\cnduu>  him.  Just  at  present  you  must 
keep  still  and  mu.st  watch  carefully  those  poles,  for  they  are  our 
onlv  hope  of  success.  Now  he  is  coming  on  the  run  clo.se  at  hand. 
Have  courage  and  aid  me,  oh,  my  friend  !" 

The  stranger  had  bairly  uttered  these  words  when  she  and  her 
husbaiiil  met  in  a  death  sti'Uggle  at  the  doorway  of  tlie  lodge;  they 
fought  outside  so  as  to  have  more  room  in  their  sti'uggles.  In  a 
short  time  the  man  tripped  his  wife,  and  they  fell  to  the  ground  with 
the  man  uppermost.  .Vt  once  the  luuiter's  wife  swiftly  ran  into  the 
lodge,  and  seizing  one  of  the  burning  poles  thrust  it  in  anum  ejus, 
and  having  turned  it  i-ound  and  roiuid  violently  a  moment  with- 
drew it.  Then  she  did  likewise  as  quickly  as  possible  with  the  second 
and  thii'd  bui-ning  ]ioles.  This  tei-rible  treatment  had  its  effect,  aiul 
in  a  moment  the  strange  woman  was  able  to  free  herself,  and  strug- 
gling from  uniler  her  weakened  husband  she  strangled  him  to  <leath. 
All  this  time  .she  kept  saying  to  her  fiiend.  "Have  courage,  oh.  my 
friend  1  Stand  near  by  and  wait.'"  Then  returning  to  the  lodge,  .she 
said  :  "  Ob.  my  friend.  I  am  thankful  indeed  that  you  have  helped  me 
in  mv  trouble."  Jlaving  recovered  her  breath,  she  added:  "Now-  I 
will  cast  the  body  far  away  yonder,  as  far  as  one  can  see."  So  say- 
iuL'.  she  dragixed  away  the  body  of  her  husband,  disappearing  with 
it  in  the  distance:  but  it  was  not  very  long  before  she  returned  to  the 
lodge,  whei-eupon  she  said:  "I  have  left  the  b(«]y  far  away.  Now 
we  two  unfortunate  ones — myself  and  my  child — will  return  to  our 
home,  departing  fi-om  this  jilace.  All  that  I  desired  was  that  she 
should  see  her  father.  I  thank  you  for  what  you  have  done  for  us. 
Onr  kinsfolk  dwell  far  away  from  here  in  the  forests:  thither  we 
two  shall  return.     Now  we  depart." 

In  a  shoi't  time  the  strange  woman  and  her  child  had  disappeared 
into  the  forest.  They  had  been  gone  a  long  while  when  the  hunter 
i-eturned  to  the  lodge.  He  had  nothing  to  say  to  his  wife.  There- 
upon she  resolved  not  to  tell  what  bad  taken  place  while  he  was 
away  hunting  until  she  reached  home.  At  first  the  husband  and 
wife  did  not   converse   at  all.     But  fiiudly  the  former  said:  "To- 


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

morrow  we  will  start  for  home."  So  the  next  day  he  made  the  neces- 
sary preparations  for  their  journey,  putting  their  belongings  into 
two  packs.  When  all  was  ready  for  their  departure  he  placed  the 
smaller  pack  on  his  wife's  back  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap,  and 
the  larger  on  his  own  back  in  the  same  way.  Then  they  left  their 
hunting  camp  for  home  much  sooner  than  they  had  expected  to  do. 

The\'  kept  traveling  the  entire  day,  and  when  the  sun  was  low 
in  the  west  they  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  hunter  was  accus- 
tomed to  camp  when  making  his  hunting  trips  in  past  seasons.  Here 
they  kindled  a  fire,  and  warming  up  cold  meat  and  boiled  corn 
bread,  they  ate  their  meal  and  then  retired  to  rest.  Early  in  the 
morning,  as  soon  as  they  had  eaten  their  meal  and  repacked  their 
belongings,  they  continued  their  journey,  arriving  just  before  sunset 
in  the  lodge  of  the  husband's  mother.  She  was  very  thankful  for 
the  meat  which  they  had  brought  home  in  their  packs. 

It  was  not  long  after  their  return  before  the  bride's  mother  entered 
the  lodge.  After  the  usual  greetings  she  said :  "  Let  us  two  revisit 
our  own  clan."  The  bride  answered:  "So  let  it  be;  we  may  go  as 
you  suggest."  They  finally  reached  the  bride's  former  home,  where 
her  kinsfolk  welcomed  her.  She  then  began  at  once  to  relate  in  great 
detail  all  that  had  befallen  her  during  the  time  she  had  been  absent 
on  the  hunting  trip  with  her  husband.  Among  other  things  she 
told  them  that  her  husband  already  had  a  child  by  some  unknown 
mysterious  being,  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  feed  with  raw  meat; 
and  that,  when  the  strange  woman  had  come  to  their  hunting  lodge, 
her  husband  did  not  share  her  couch,  but  that  he  lay  alone  at  the 
feet  of  his  wife  and  child.  The  young  wife  narrated,  too,  all  that 
occurred  in  connection  with  the  attack  on  his  wife  made  by  the 
strange  woman's  husband  at  the  doorway  of  the  hunting  lodge. 

When  the  bride's  kinsfolk  had  heard  all  these  things  they  said: 
"  It  seems  certain  that  he  has  begotten  a  child  by  a  woman  Genonsgwa 
(sometimes  erroneously  called  "  Stone  Coat").  You  should  separate 
from  him  lest  you  become  enclianted  by  some  evil  power  should  you 
return  to  him  again."  The  bride  and  her  child  therefore  remained 
with  her  own  clan  and  kinsfolk,  as  they  had  advised  her  to  do  under 
the  circumstances.  This  astonishing  report  soon  spread  among  the 
tribe.  AH  soon  knew  what  had  occurred  on  the  hunting  trip  in  the 
forest  to  the  misogamist  hunter  and  his  l)ride.  It  produced  a  great 
sensation  among  the  peo]ile.  So  it  happened  that  all  the  women,  as 
if  by  mutual  consent,  shunned  the  misogamist  hunter,  and  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  privately  or  socially.  This  is  what 
befell  the  man  wiio  was  too  proud  and  selfish  to  consent  to  marry 
any  woman  of  his  own  people.  Now,  in  so  far  as  his  standing  is  con- 
cerned, he  is  held  as  despicable  beyond  measure  and  of  no  account 
among  men. 


S^^S]  LEGENDS  565 

116.  The  Acts  of  the  Seventh  Son.  DjExr.o''sE' 

In  the  olden  time  there  stood  in  a  cci'tain  huid  a  lodge  surrounded 
by  a  dense  i'ore>t,  in  which  lived  a  very  old  man.  his  seven  sons,  and 
a  daughter.  The  youngest  son  was  very  small,  and  he  possessed  a 
cur  which  was  not  larger  tiian  a  gray  s(|uirrel  and  a  very  small  how 
and  arrows  to  match  it;  the  bow,  it  is  said,  was  a  half  span  in 
length. 

This  small  boy  and  liis  diminutive  dog  played  together  daily, 
hunting  Heas  around  the  tirei)lace.  The  cur  would  track  a  flea,  and 
just  a.s  the  flea  woukl  leap  up  from  its  hiding  place  tiie  small  Imy 
wouUI  shoot  it  with  an  arrow  from  his  diniinuti\e  bow.  Thus  lie 
amused  himself  all  day  and  far  into  tiie  night. 

Now.  the  old  man,  the  father  of  this  family,  forbade  his  sons  from 
going  to  hunt  in  a  coi'tain  direction  fiom  tiic  lodge.  In  time,  how- 
ever, the  eldest  son.  wearying  of  this  seemingly  unreasonable  re- 
straint, detei-mined  to  hunt  in  the  forbidden  direction,  in  order  to 
learn,  if  possible,  what  it  was  that  caused  his  father  to  prohibit  his 
brothers  and  himself  from  going  into  that  region.  So,  following 
his  resolve,  he  started  for  the  region,  but  never  returned  luime.  Then 
the  second  son  i-esoived  to  follow  his  elder  hi-othcr,  so  he  also  >tarted 
for  the  forl)idden  land:  and  he,  too,  never  I'eturned  home.  Finall}', 
when  six  of  the  brothei-s  had  gone  away  and  none  had  returned, 
the  aged  father  said  to  his  youngest  son  that  he  himself  was  going 
in  search  of  his  six  lost  sons.  After  carefully  instructing  his 
youngest  son  wjiat  to  do  for  himself  and  his  only  sister  in  his  ab- 
sence, he  started  away.  He,  too,  failed  to  canw  back,  and  the  two 
young  persons  in  the  lodge  became  anxious  about  their  own  fate,  as 
they  were  then  dependent  on  themselves. 

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

In  the  morning  they  ate  the  renuiinder  of  the  vcni.son  and  at  once 


566  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.s2 

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

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

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

Next  morning  the  little  boy,  having  spat  upon  one  of  his  arrows 
three  times,  cast  it  out  of  the  lodge  through  the  smoke-hole,  saying 
to  it:  "Go  thou,  then,  hunt  for  a  deer  and  kill  it  for  our  food." 


HEwS]  LEGENDS  •,  '  567 

Obeying  liim,  the  arrow  flow  out  of  the  smoke-hole  uihI  disap- 
peared. After  beino;  absent  for  only  a  short  time,  it  returned  through 
the  smoke-hole.  The  bo_v  seized  it,  and.  finding  on  it  traces  of 
fresh  blood,  he  turned  to  the  little  old  woman,  saying:  ''Oh.  grand- 
mother! go  out  and  look  for  the  dead  body  of  a  deer;  it  lies  not 
far  from  here."  Not  far  from  the  lodge  she  found,  indeed,  the 
lioily  of  a  deer,  which  evidently  had  been  recently  killed.  Hav- 
ing brought  it  to  the  lodge,  she  dressed  it.  Then  she  cooked  some 
of  the  venison  for  her.self  and  her  adopted  grandchildren,  and 
■srhile  they  were  eating  the  little  old  woman  continually  uttered 
words  of  thanksgiving  to  the  Master  of  Life*-*  because  she  was 
again  able  to  eat  venison. 

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

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


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

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

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

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

In  the  moi-ning  the  youth,  descending  from  his  lofty  perch,  went 
to  the  shore  of  the  island  at  the  point  where  the  party  had  made  a 
landing.  Finding  no  boat  there  he  struck  his  breast  several  smart 
blows,  which  caused  his  stomach  to  give  up  a  canoe  no  larger  than  a 
plum  pit,  provided  with  a  pair  of  oars.  Several  sharp  blows  on 
the  diminutive  canoe  with  his  enchanted  arrows  immediately  caused 
it  to  assume  the  proportions  of  an  ordinary  canoe.     The  same  treat- 


^,1^^!?;.]  LEGENDS  569 

iiu'iit  iiiailc  the  pair  of  oars  asaiune  the  size  of  ordinary  oars.  I'hic- 
ing  his  canoe  in  the  waters  of  the  hike  and  boarding  it  the  young 
hunter  soon  rowed  his  way  to  the  shore  wiience  he  had  been  kid- 
naped by  the  envious  young  men.  On  huiding  tiie  young  man  drew 
tlie  canoe  ashore,  and  then  striking  it  several  sharp  blows  witli  his 
enchanted  arrow,  it  quickly  assumed  its  former  diminutive  size,  and 
ne  in  like  numner  restored  the  jiair  of  oars  lo  their  f(n-mer  dimen- 
sions, after  which  he  swallowed  them  again.  'rhereu])on  he  wended 
his  way  at  once  to  his  own  home  with  his  adopted  grandmother. 

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

Now,  the  tutelar  deity  of  the  i)i-esiding  chief  was  a  hen  harrier 
called  ■«u>i'"nwi'  in  the  vernacular.  Thi>  the  chief  caused  to  iloat 
in  tlie  air  at  double  the  height  of  the  tallest  tree,  as  the  mark  at 
which  all  nnist  shoot  who  were  invited  to  the  feast.*-'  All  the  young 
men  who  knew  the  nature  of  the  prize  that  the  chief  had  otl'ered 
as  the  reward  for  the  best  marksiiumship  kept  shooting  daily  at  this 
bird  lloating  in  the  air;  but  they  were  all  shooting  to  no  ]iurpose, 
for  some  of  the  arrows  would  not  attain  the  altitude  of  the  hen 
harrier,  while  others  which  did  so  flew  wide  of  the  target. 

I'"inally.  the  ciiief  said  to  the  Master  of  Ceremonies:  '"Now,  after 
this,  let  eacii  man  try  only  once  more  and  then  let  tho.se  who  have 
failed  to  hit  the  target  retire  .  .  .  from  the  gi'oup  of  candi- 
dates, and  place  them  in  a  separate  place  from  those  who  have  noc 
made  this  last  attempt."  'J'his  was  ordered,  and  as  f|uickly  as  a  man 
took  his  last  shot  he  was  placed  at  a  distance  fiom  those  who  had 
not  yet  made  the  trial,  lest  some  mistake  be  made  and  someone  be 
unwittingly  given  two  or  more  chances.  Finally,  when  all  the  can- 
didates had  siiot,  it  was  suddenly  discovered  that  Djefigo''se'  had 
failed  to  lake  his  chance.  All  had  failed  before  him  to  hit  the  hen- 
harrier hawk,  so  his  friend  urge(l  him  to  make  the  attempt,  but  he 
as  steadily  refused,  saying,  "  I  do  not  want  to  kill  it."  Notwith- 
staiuling  his  positive  refusal,  his  friend  i)laced  his  bow  and  arrow 
in  his  hands,  and  with  Djehgo''se'  resting  his  hand  upon  it.  he  pulled 
the  arrow  to  its  full  length  and  then  let  it  (ly.  The  arrow  shot  up- 
ward and  transfi.xed  the  body  of  the  hen-harrier  hawk,  which  fell 
to  the  ground.  Then  the  chief  himself  informed  Djengo"se'  that  in 
winning  the  contest  for  marksmanship  he  had  also  won  his  daugii- 
ter  as  the  ]3rize  of  the  victor  in  this  contest. 

I)jengo''se"  informed  the  chief  that  he  had  not  known  until  then 
that  there  woukl  be  a  prize  for  the  winner  in  this  contest  for  marks- 


570  SENECA   FICnON,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [Eia  ANN.  32 

manship,  and  that  as  he  himself  had  been  adjudged  the  winner  of 
the  contest  and  also  of  the  chief's  daughter,  he  felt  constrained  to 
thank  him  for  thus  considering  him  worthy  of  these  great  honors. 
The  chief  replied  by  bidding  him  to  repair  to  his  lodge  to  claim 
nis  bride.    This  Djengo''se'  did. 

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

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

At  dawn  on  the  fourth  day  she  suddenly  came  to  a  narrow  passage- 
way *-*  in  which  stood  two  men,  who  accosted  her,  saying :  "  What 
do  you  here?  What  brings  you  into  this  place,  seeing  that  you  are 
not  dead?  This  is  not  the  land  of  the  living."  She  quickly  an- 
swered them :  "  I  am  following  the  tracks  of  my  husband,  which  ap- 
pear to  lead  througli  this  passageway;  I  am  seeking  him."  As  they 
seemed  to  be  not  satisfied  with  her  reply,  she  I'elated  to  them  in  de- 
tail what  had  happened  to  her  and  her  husband.  When  the  men  had 
learned  her  story  they  decided  at  once  to  aid  her,  for  no  one  wlio 
had  not  seen  death  could  pass  without  their  permission  freely  given. 
They  informed  her  that  some  distance  farther  on  there  was  another 
passageway,  guarded  by  two  fierce  panthers,  which  would  rend  lier 
in  pieces  unless  she  was  provided  with  the  usual  toll.  So  they  gave 
her  two  roasted  pheasants,  of  enormous  size,  saying:  "When  you 
reach  the  next  passageway  thi'ow  one  of  these  to  each  of  the  pan- 


Skwi'tiO  legends  571 

thers  and  you  may  pass  safely  throuKli-  When  you  arrive  at  the 
tJiird  passageway  you  will  there  find  a  man  who  will  instruct  you  as 
.to  what  you  must  do  further  to  accomplish  your  purpose." 

Takinp  the  two  pheasants  and  thanking  the  two  men  for  their 
kindness,  the  woman  again  followed  the  trail  of  her  husiiand.  When 
she  had  gone  a  long  distance  she  saw  the  couchant  panthers  guarding 
the  way  of  death  and  the  dead.  Following  the  insti'uctions  of  the  two 
men,  and  throwing  a  i)heasant  to  each,  she  (juickly  passed  them. 
After  following  the  trail  a  long  time,  she  finally  came  to  the  third 
passageway.  The  man  who  guarded  it  said  to  her:  ''What  do  you 
here^  AVhat  brings  you  to  this  jjlace,  seeing  that  you  are  not  dead?  " 
She  answered  him :  "  I  am  following  the  trail  of  my  husband,  wliich 
leads  through  this  paasageway."  Then  she  briefly  related  to  him 
the  events  which  had  caused  her  to  undertake  the  journey  hither. 
'Ihe  warder  replied:  "  1  will  assist  you  in  recovering  your  husband. 
You  must  take  with  you  this  gourd,  which  is  closed  with  a  tendon, 
for  in  this  receptacle  you  will  have  to  bi'ing  back  the  soul  of  your 
husband,  carefully  shut  up.  You  must  take  also  this  small  gourd 
bottle,  which  contains  the  fat  or  oil  of  man;  you  must  take  it  with 
you  for  you  will  need  it.  \\'hen  you  reach  a  very  largo  strawberry 
field  stretching  on  both  sides  of  the  path,  you  must  rub  some  of  this 
oil  on  the  palms  of  your  iiands.  In  this  field  you  will  see  an  elderly 
woman  jiicking  berries;  she  is  the  ho.stess  of  this  country,  and  she 
will  aid  you  in  all  things,  telling  you  just  what  to  do.  After  anoint- 
ing youi-  Iiands  with  the  oil  you  must  hold  them  up  with  the  jialuis 
turned  toward  the  berry  picker.    Now  start  on  your  way." 

A\'ith  a  light  heart  the  woman  again  took  u]d  the  trail  of  her  hus- 
band, with  the  firm  resolve  to  follow  the  instructions  of  the  warder 
of  the  last  ]3assageway.  Finally  she  reached  the  lai'ge  field  of  straw- 
berries, and  taking  oil  out  of  the  small  gourd  bottle  and  rubbing  it 
on  the  ]:)alms  of  her  hands,  she  held  them  up  toward  the  elderly 
woman,  whom  she  hailed  in  a  loud  voice.  The  woman,  who  was 
picking  berries,  heard  her  call  and  ^tood  attentive  imtil  the  otlicr 
woman  came  up  to  her.  whereupon  she  said:  "What  do  you  here, 
seeing  that  you  are  not  dead?  "  Answering  the  Mother^""  of  (tIiosIs, 
the  woman  said.  "  I  come  here  seeking  my  husband,  whose  trail  comes 
into  this  place."'  and  so  saying,  she  gave  the  two  gourds  to  the  Mother 
of  (ihosts.  The  latter  re|)lied:  "I  will  put  your  husband  into  this 
empty  gourd  bottle,  so  that  you  may  take  him  back  with  yoti.  ("ouie 
then  to  the  lodge."  The  widow  followed  the  elder  woman  to  her 
lodge,  which  stood  a  short  distance  from  the  field  of  strawberries. 
AVhen  they  reached  it  the  elder  woman  concealed  her  guest  under 
some  liark  in  one  corner,  at  the  same  time  saying:  "Now.  keep  very 
quiet,  for  all  the  people  come  here  to  dance  every  night,  and  they 


572  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  S2 

will  flee  from  me  should  they  discover  that  you  are  here."  So  the 
woman  lay  quiet  under  the  bark  cover. 

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

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

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

Hurrying  from  the  lodge  into  the  darkness  the  woman  followed 
the  narrow  trail.  When  she  reached  the  first  passageway,  its  warder 
said :  "  When  you  arrive  at  your  home  stop  up  with  fine  clay  the 
nostrils,  the  ears,  and  every  other  opening  or  outlet  of  your  hus- 
band's body,  and  then  rub  the  oil  of  man  over  his  body.  When  you 
have  finished  this  task,  carefully  uncork  into  his  mouth  the  gourd 
bottle  containing  his  life,  in  such  manner  that  his  life  can  not  escape, 


---^]  LEGENDS  573 

but  will  reenter  his  body  and  so  reanimate  it  again."'  The  embodied 
woman  agreed  to  follow  these  instructions.  Then  the  w-arder,  giv- 
ing her  two  roasted  pheasants,  which  were  to  serve  as  sops  to  the 
two  couchant  panthers  guarding  the  middle  passageway,  wished  her 
a  safe  and  auspicious  journey  home,  and  bade  her  start. 

Tiie  woman  thereupon  departed  from  the  first  passageway,  walk- 
ing as  rapidly  as  possible.  Siie  hastened  along  until  she  came  to  the 
middle  passageway.  There  she  gave  one  of  the  roasted  pheasants  to 
each  of  the  panthers,  and.  quickly  passing  through  the  passageway', 
continued  her  journey.  P'inally  siie  came  to  the  first  passageway, 
through  which  she  went,  and  then,  after  traveling  for  three  d-ays 
and  nights,  she  safely  reached  home. 

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

This  e.\i)erience  rendered  the  body  of  the  husband  invulnerable 
to  the  spells  and  incantations  of  sorcerers  and  wizards.  The  faithful 
wife  and  her  resurrected  hu.sband  dwelt  together  in  peace  and  health 
and  happiness  until,  in  the  fullness  of  years,  they  <lied  and  went  to 
the  lanil  of  the  Mother  of  Ghosts. 

117.  Till'.  Lkceni)  or  IIod.\1)k.nox   and  TTis  Elukr  Sistkh 

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

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

It  was  evident  that  the  young  boy  would  become  powerful  in  the 
exercise  of  orenda  (magic  ])ower).  It  happened  one  day  that  he 
said:  "Elder  sister,  you  must  make  me  a  bow  and  an  arrow."  She 
had  great  compassion  for  him,  so  she  answered :  "  Let  it  be  so." 
Then  she  made  a  bow  and  an  arrow,  using  on  them  her  best  skill. 


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

Having  completed  her  task,  she  gave  them  to  him.  "  Thank  you, 
elder  sister,"  he  said;  "now  I  will  hunt.  Hereafter  you  and  I  will 
regularly  feed  on  meat.  Now  I  will  go  to  hunt."  She  said:  "Let 
it  be  so." 

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

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

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

Then  the  two  started.  Having  arrived  at  the  place,  he  told  her: 
"  Right  there  I  stood,  and  there  it  walked.  Thus  [I  did]  with  my 
arrow,  saying,  '  s>,  si,  s/,  si,  stop  thou,  first.'  So  it  did  stand,  for- 
sooth. From  here  I  shot,  so  that  I  hit  it  right  in  the  center  |of  its 
body] ,  whereupon  it  fell  backward,  saying,  'da\  daK  da'',  da!'.''  Toward 
it  I  ran,  crying.  '  Do  not  break  my  arrow  that  I  prize  so  highly,' 
while  it  rolled  itself  about  in  the  dust."  While  they  slowly  made 
their  way  along  Hodadeiion  did  not  cease  telling  what  had  happened. 
At  times  his  sister  would  say :  "  Come,  go  thou  on."  Suddenly  he 
said :  "  Eight  there  it  lies.  Do  you  think  you  can  indeed  carry  it 
back'i  "    "TFaA,"  she  said,  seizing  it  by  the  neck  and  starting  home- 


,7,«7/^]  LEGENDS  575 

ward,  adding:  "Come;  go  thou  on."  ^''Goh,  it  is  tnu>,  thou  art 
strong,  elder  sistei-."  he  said. 

"  ^\'ll:lt  tiling  is  it  named,  the  thing  that  I  have  killed?" 
"  DjcKjgweyani  ^•"'  it  is  railed.''  she  said.  "  Djoqgweyani  is  it 
named,  elder  sister^""  he  asUed.  "That  is  its  name,"'  she  replied. 
"Dees  it  taste  good?"  lie  askeil.  "It  tastes  good."  she  answered. 
"Dumplings  are  what  it  re(juires,  for  dumplings  are  what  people 
put  with  it."  After  reaching  home  siie  ]ilucke(l  the  game,  after 
which  she  "  set  up  "  the  kettle  and  put  in  dumplings  |  with  the  meal]. 
Constantly  did  Ilodadenon  stand  around  about  the  fire  saying.  "  So 
it  will  indeed  taste  good  to  us?  "  "  llo.  it  eerlainly  does  taste  good." 
she  said.  AVhen  it  was  done  siie  removed  the  kettle  |  f rom  the  fire] 
and  placed  tiie  mess  (m  pieces  of  hark,  and  tlie  soup  and  dumjilings 
in  a  l>ark  bowl.  Then  they  ate.  Ilodadenon  kept  saying  constantly, 
"It  is  so  good,  is  it  not,  elder  sister?"  "Oh.  yes!  it  is  good."  she 
would  reply.  "  Djo(]gweyani — is  it  not  true  that  is  the  name  of  the 
thing  T  killed?  "  he  would  say.  "That  is  its  name,"  was  her  answer. 
Wiien  they  finished  eating,  he  said.  "Tomorrow  again  will  1  go  to 
hunt.    Tlien  inde(>d  a  lai-ge  game  animal  will  T  kill." 

It  was  a  usual  thing  in  the  evening  that  this  iioy  did  not  go  to 
sU'c])  at  once.  ('ontinn;iliy  in  the  dark  noi.ses  were  heai'd  here  and 
there:  then,  again,  under  the  i)ed  these  noises  were  heard.  What  he 
was  doing  was  not  known.  So  the  elder  sister  said:  "My  younger 
brother,  what  are  yon  usually  doing  making  noises  in  the  dark,  yes, 
even  under  the  bed.  for  long  periods:  and.  too,  yon  go  about  laugh- 
ing?" "  Well."  said  he.  "I  will  tell  yon.  It  is  this.  I  am  engageil 
in  hunting  (leas.  They  are  very  jialatable,  tasting  good  to  me.  1 
have  now  told  you.  Whenever  one  escapes  I  laugh.  So  nexcr 
ask  me  this  again."  He  added,  "  Now  again  I  will  go  to  hunt."  "  Let 
it  be  so,"  she  said  in  rejily. 

Thereupon  Ilodadenon  went  out.  For  a  short  time  his  voice  was 
heard  aidund  about  outside  the  lodge:  then  again  nowhere  was  his 
voice  heai'il  by  his  elder  sistei-.  ( )n  going  out  of  doors  and  looking 
around  without  finding  traces  of  him.  she  reentered  the  lodge.  Not 
\vv\  long  after,  all  at  once  she  heard  approaching  footsteps:  then 
something  sti'uck-  the  door,  which  opened,  and  there  stood  her 
younger  brother.  Ilodadenon.  He  said:  "My  elder  sister,  get  the 
burden  cradle  right  away:  forsooth.  I  have  killed  a  large  animal,  and 
you  ;ire  not  able  to  bring  it  without  the  burden  cradle.  I  wonder 
Avhat  the  animal  is  called.  Peihaps  Baldheaded  is  its  name:  ])er- 
hajis  Snot-nose  is  its  name:  ])erha]>s  Tas.seled-with-Hemlock-bough  "' 
is  its  name."  "Come,  go  on!  let  us  go  back  there,"  she  replied. 
"But  you  will  take  the  biii'den  cradle."  he  added.  She  answered: 
"Oh!  I  am  fully  prepared  to  bring  it.  Go  thou  on.  Let  us  then 
start." 


576  SEXECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ans.  32 

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

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

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

When  finally  they  reached  their  home,  he  asked:  "Does  it  taste 
good?  "  She  replied:  "  Hoh,  it  tastes  good.  It  must  be  accompanied 
with  hulled-corn  mush."  After  plucking  the  animal  and  cutting  it  up, 
she  boiled  it  in  a  kettle  over  the  fire.  While  it  was  cooking  she  ex- 
claimed :  "  Hoh,  how  fat  it  is."  for  the  oil  came  bubbling  up  in  the 
kettle.  Again  Hodadenon  stood  around  and  kept  saying:  "My 
elder  sister,  does  it  taste  good?"  She  would  reply,  "  lI'oA,  it  does, 
indeed,  taste  good."  Then  she  hulled  corn  and  made  meal,  fi-om 
which  she  prepared  mush  to  go  with  the  boiled  meat.  Having  re- 
moved the  kettle  from  the  fire  and  skinmied  otf  the  fat,  she  mixed 
it  with  the  corn-meal  mush.  Next  poui-ing  the  meat  into  a  bark 
bowl  and  the  corn-meal  mush  into  another,  the  sister  said:  '"Come 
now,  let  us  two  eat  togetlier."  While  they  ate  the  boy  still  kept 
Baying:  "  Elder  sister,  I  do  think  that  the  thing  I  killed  tastes  good. 
It  is  called  O'soont.  and  it  certainly  does  taste  good."  They  finished 
their  meal,  whereupon  the  boy  said :  "  Tomorrow  again  I  shall  go 
to  hunt.  This  time  perhaps  I  shall  kill  something  which  will  indeed 
be  much  larger  than  what  I  have  killed  already."     Soon  it  became 


CUETI 
HEWITT 


^]  LEGENDS  577 


night,  and  they  lay  down  to  sleep.  Hut  as  for  Tlodadeuon  he  spent 
the  night  going  about  hunting  fleas,  laughing  when  one  wouhl  escape 
him. 

AVhen  morning  dawned  the  boy  said :  "  Come,  my  elder  sister, 
arise  now.  The  game  animals  habitually  go  aliout  the  open  spaces 
very  early  in  the  morning."  The  sister  having  warmed  up  things 
[to  eat],  they  ate  their  breaUfast.  AMien  tliey  were  througli  tiie  boy 
said:  ''Now  I  shall  go  out  to  hunt."  With  these  words  he  went 
out  of  tiie  lodge.  After  going  around  the  lodge  murmuring  for  a  long 
time,  all  of  a  sudden  Ids  murmurs  ceased.  He  was  now  iu)where 
about  the  lodge,  for  he  had  gone  to  some  unknown  place.  It  was  a 
long  time  before  the  sister  lieard  the  footsteps  of  a  person  who  was 
approaching — the  sounds,  <Iih.  d/h,  dih.  dih.  Again  Ilodadenon 
struck  the  door,  making  it  lly  <ipen,  at  which  the  boy  leaped  into 
the  lodge,  exclaiming:  "  KIder  sister,  let  us  go  back  right  away. 
I  have  killed  a  very  large  game  animal,  but  I  do  not  know  what 
animal  it  is.  It  may  be  that  its  name  is  Great  Eyes;  it  may  be  that 
its  name  is  It  Has  Two  Long  Kars:  it  may  be  that  its  name  is  ^\'hite 
Tail.  Now  it  is  that  you  must  t;vke  the  burden  cradle;  otherwise 
you  can  not  bear  its  body,  for  it  is  so  great  in  size."  Answering,  she 
said :  '"  So  be  it.    I  will  take  the  burden  frame." 

Then  the  two  started,  and  having  ai'rivcd  at  the  ])lace.  the  boy 
suddenly  stopped,  saying:  "Just  here  is  the  place  where  I  was  when 
I  was  suriH'ised  to  see  this  animal  i-unning  along  there.  Only  my 
arrow  1  held  out  and  said  to  the  animal,  '7V-/,  tci.  tcl.  tci.  Sto]),  first,' 
and  it  stopped.  Thereupon  I  asked  it :  '  AMiat  is  thy  name '  Per- 
haps Thy-Two-Eyes-are-Large  is  (by  name:  perhaps  Thy-Two-Ears- 
are-Long  is  thy  name:  i)erha])s  'l"hy-Tail-is-White  is  thy  name?' 
Then  I  shot,  hitting  the  animal  in  tlie  very  center  of  its  body.  It  ran 
along  farthei-,  and  I  ]iursued  it.  At  a  long  distance  from  iiere  1 
suddenly  found  its  body  lying  thei'e,  witli  the  arrow  protruiling 
very  little,  so  deep  had  it  peneti'atcd  into  flu-  midille  of  (lie  ci-eature's 
body."  The  two  went  on  to  the  jilace  where  the  game  animal  lay.  and 
on  reaching  it,  the  boy  said:  "  Herj  it  lies."  His  sister  was  surprised 
to  see  the  body  of  a  deer  lying  there,  and  she  e.xclainied :  ''  My 
younger  brother,  I  am  thaid<ful  that  now  you  have  killed  a  large 
game  animal.  I  have  l)een  in  the  haljit  of  i)itying  you.  hoiiing  that 
perchance  l>v  the  risks  you  have  taken  you  might  giow  ii]i  to  l)e  a 
good  hunter.  Now  I  thiidi  you  are  inunune  to  the  orenda  (magic 
power)  of  the  neogen.  for  you  have  killed  an  animal  bearing  this 
name.''  In  a  short  time  the  boy  exclaimed:  "Oh,  elder  sister!  does 
it  taste  good?"  She  answered:  "Yes:  indeed,  it  tastes  good,  and  I 
shall  now  skin  it."  Wlien  slie  completeil  tliis  task  she  quartered 
the  deer,  after  having  cut  off  the  legs,  which  she  placed  aside  in  a 
94615°— IC 37 


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

pile  by  themselves.  Then  she  proceeded  to  arrange  a  package  of  the 
meat  on  the  burden  cradle,  securely  binding  it  with  cords  of  bark. 
Having  ifinished  her  own  load,  she  next  proceeded  to  make  a  load  for 
the  boy  of  tlie  four  legs  of  the  deer.  Deftly  fashioning  a  pack  strap 
of  bark,  she  fastened  the  load  on  his  back,  saying :  "  Come  now,  you 
take  the  lead."  At  this  he  started  ahead,  and  kept  on  while  she 
gathered  up  her  utensils  and  made  ready  to  follow.  Her  load  being 
very  iieavy,  she  could  hardly  manage  it.  In  order  to  get  it  on  her 
back  she  had  to  place  it  first  on  a  log,  from  which  she  was  able  to 
raise  it  to  her  back.  Then,  with  the  sister  following  the  lead  of  her 
younger  brother,  both  went  along  with  their  burdens.  A  long  dis- 
tance was  covered  when  she  saw  him  sitting  on  a  log  with  his  burden 
resting  on  the  log,  too.  He  said :  "  I  am  resting  because  the  load  is 
so  heavy.  Come,  do  you  also  rest  yourself  here."  So,  setting  her  load 
also  on  a  log.  she,  too,  rested.  Again  the  boy  asked  :  "  My  elder  sister, 
what  is  the  name  of  the  thing  that  I  killed?  "  She  answered:  "Ne- 
ogen  is  its  name."  He  asked :  "  Does  it  taste  good  ?  "  "  11  oh,  it  tastes 
good,"  she  replied,  "  if  it  is  cooked  in  the  right  way.  Come  now,  let 
us  go  on  homeward."  Of  course  she  helped  him  get  his  burden  on 
his  back.  When  she  readjusted  her  own  load,  she  followed  her 
brother.  On  reaching  home,  she  found  that  he  forsooth  had  arrived 
there  too.  As  she  entered  their  lodge  her  forehead  strap  broke,  let- 
ting her  burden  fall,  with  the  sound,  pumh!    It  was  very  heavy. 

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


^■^"JS]  LEGENDS  .  579 

When  the  two  were  tlirouiih  eutiiiji  the  hoy  said  :  "  ^[\'  ehler  sis- 
ter. 1  shall  iHiw  take  a  rest  becuiise  I  am  tired  out.  .lust  now  we 
have  an  abundance  of  meat."  Then  he  i-e.-ti'd.  Indoors  he  walked 
around,  and  indoors,  too,  he  seated  himself  at  times,  and  for  a  long 
time  he  went  about  hunting  fleas.  The  sister  went  to  fetch  wood  for 
fuel,  taking  the  burden  frame  with  her.  so  the  boy  was  left  by  him- 
self. 

Suddenly  he  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  some  one  singing  in  the 
loft  above:  "My  younger  l)rother,  tobacco.  Once  more  I  want  to 
enjoy  a  smoke,  my  younger  brother."  C'liml)ing  u\)  into  the  loft, 
the  boy  was  surprised  to  lind  a  male  person  lying  there,  having  a 
very  large  head  and  an  enormous  suit  of  hair.  Ilodadehon  said: 
"Give,  what  ails  you  ^  "  The  man  replied:  "My  younger  brother.  I 
desire  to  smoke.  Yonder  lies  a  pouch  made  of  skunk  skin;  in  it 
there  is  a  very  small  quantity  of  tobai-co  and  there  is  also  a  pipe.'' 
Having  found  the  pouch  as  said,  Ilodadenon  took  out  of  it  a  \ery 
small  piece  of  tobacco;  also  a  pipe.  Next  he  proceeded  to  cut  \\\)  all 
the  tobacco,  and  kept  saying.  "  1  shall  use  it  all.  as  it  is  my  custom 
to  do,  for  it  is  abundant  seemingly."  Having  completed  his  ])re|)ara- 
tions,  he  took  from  the  pcuich  the  fire  flint  and  the  punli,  and  struck 
off  si)arks  that  set  fire  to  the  tobacco.  Then,  placing  the  pipe  in 
the  man's  mouth,  he  said:  "Now  you  shall  smoke."  Eeplying,  "I 
thaidv  you.  my  younger  brother,"  the  man  drew  in  the  smoke,  and 
smoke  settled  all  o\er  his  head.  'Jliereupon  mice  in  large  nmnbers 
came  out  of  his  liair  because  of  the  tobacco  smoke  that  settled  into  it. 
Ilodadehon  then  ran  away  because  he  was  choking  with  the  smoke. 

Just  then  his  elder  sister  returned  and  said  in  a  loud  voice:  "  AMiat 
are  you  doing?  What  are  you  doing?  "  Ilodadenon  replied  evasively  : 
"My  elder  sister,  what  is  the  reason  that  you  have  not  told  me  that 
a  man  lay  in  the  loft  who  is  your  elder  brother?  You  have  con- 
stantly said  that  wc  two  were  alone,  and  that  that  was  the  reason 
I  am  called  Ilodadehon."  The  elder  sister  replied:  "The  reason 
why  I  have  not  told  you  before  is  because  you  are  inattentive."  The 
younger  brother  answered:  "I  cut  up  the  tobacco  because  my  elder 
brother  kept  saying  that  he  desired  to  smoke,  and  I  used  all  of  it, 
for  there  was  only  a  vei'V  small  piece  left,  and  it  would  .seem  there  is 
an  ai)untlance  of  tobacco  grt)wing.  As  soon  as  I  placed  the  pij'e  in 
his  mouth  he  drew  in  the  smoke  and  blew  it  out.  whereupon  his  hair 
became  filled  with  the  smoke  and  many  mice  came  forth  from  it. 
The  room  was  filled  with  smoke.  I  was  choking  from  the  effects  of  it 
when  I  de.scended  from  the  room.  That  is  what  you  heard  and  UhI 
3'ou  to  say  that  T  was  doing  mischief." 

The  sister  retorted:  "I  do  say  that  you  are  careless  and  inattentive. 
You  used  up  all  the  tobacco.  At  all  times  it  was  my  habit  to  scrape 
only  a  very  small  quantity,  which  T  jiut  info  his  pil'e.  and  he  would 


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

smoke.  The  times  that  he  smokes  are  a  year  apart.  But  now  you 
have  used  all  the  tobacco.  This  is  the  reason  that  I  say  you  are 
careless  and  inattentive.  Moi-eover,  you  have  killed  him,  for  I  think 
there  is  no  more  left  of  that  on  which  he  must  live"  Hodadenon 
answered:  "How  far  away  is  the  place  where  that  thing  abounds?" 
She  replied :  "  It  is  distant."  He  persisted :  "  Come,  tell  me  in  what 
direction  it  grows."  She  answered,  "  It  is  of  no  use  for  me  to  tell 
you.  You  could  never  have  the  power  to  accomplish  the  task  of 
getting  some."  '■'Gu'u'f'-  he  exclaimed;  "you  seem  to  have  a  great 
contempt  for  my  ability.  Come,  tell  me,  please."  Thus  they  spent 
the  entire  day  disputing  about  the  matter.  The  sister  kept  on  saying: 
"  It  is  of  no  use  for  me  to  tell  you." 

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

Then  he  set  out  on  his  journey.  Around  the  lodge  he  walked  with 
his  pack,  murmuring  as  he  went  from  place  to  place.  Thus  he  spent 
the  day.  In  the  evening  he  reentered  the  lodge,  with  the  words: 
"  Oh,  elder  sister !  I  did  not  start.  Tomorrow,  I  think,  I  shall  surely 
start."  So  saying,  he  laid  his  pack  down.  In  the  morning  he  said: 
"  My  elder  sister,  I  am  aboiife-  to  start.  You  say  that  the  path  leads 
directly  south?"  She  replied:  "That  is  what  I  have  said.  In 
certain  places  there  are  yet  visible  spots  where  fires  have  been 
kindled  and  where  forked  rods  or  crotched  sticks  are  set  in  the  earth, 
on  which  are  fixed  pieces  of  bread  which  are  of  many  degrees  of 
staleness.  You  also  shall  aflix  bread  there  to  such  rods.  Such  is  the 
custom."  *^-  The  lad  replied :  "  So  be  it.  You  shall  be  suddenly 
startled;  the  ashes  where  you  have  kindled  a  fire  shall  be  scattered 


^™^S]  LEGENDS  581 

because  a  measure  of  tobacco  will  fall  there,  caiisiiiof  the  ashes  to  (!y 
up.  Then  you  shall  think  that  I  am  still  alive.  I  believe  this  shall 
come  to  pas.s." 

Takii)<j  uj)  hi.s  pack,  the  boy  said:  "My  elder  si.ster.  I  am  start- 
ing— you  say  that  the  path  leads  directly  south?"'  She  replied: 
"That  is  what  1  said."  Theicupon  he  went  out  of  the  lodffe.  For 
a  lonsi  time  she  heard  his  voice  around  the  lodire.  as  he  went  about 
nuuinuring.  After  that  she  heard  it  no  more.  Then  she  .siid  : 
"  Now,  I  suppose  he  has  started.  Oh  !  he  is  to  be  pitied,  for  he  will 
become  wretched.  It  is  doubtful  whether  we  shall  ever  see  each 
other  again."  The  lad  followed  the  jiath,  and  in  the  evening  he 
suddenly  came  to  a  s|)ot  where  it  was  plain  that  fii-es  had  been 
kindled  and  i)eople  had  sj^ent  the  night.  The  remains  were  of 
many  times.  Having  decided  to  spend  the  night  there,  he  kindled 
a  fire,  by  means  of  which  he  warmed  the  liread  and  the  meat  which 
he  took  out  of  his  pack.  "\Mien  he  had  finished  his  meal,  he  was 
startled  to  see  near  by  forked  or  crotched  rods  set  in  the  ground,  on 
some  of  which  were  fixed  pieces  of  bread,  and  on  others  pieces  of 
meat.  These  had  be(>n  there  for  widely  \arying  periods.  At  this 
sight  he  exclaimed:  "Oh.  how  wretched  did  tliey  become!  Tho.se 
pei'sons  who  ha\e  left  these  remains  are  indeed  all  ilcad.  and  they 
were  brothers  to  me.  So  T.  too.  shall  do  the  same  thing."  Then  he 
set  up  in  the  ground  a  rod  with  a  croti'h.  on  wliich  he  fastened  a 
piece  of  bread  among  tlie  other  fragments  of  all  ages — some  of  them 
quite  old.  Then  he  lay  down  and  went  to  sleeji.  with  his  bodv  suj)- 
ported  against  his  jiack.  Tn  the  morning,  finding  everything  as  it 
should  be.  the  lad  said  aloud:  "T  am  thaidiful  that  I  am  still  alive. 
My  elder  sister  said  indeed  that  it  was  doubtfid  that  she  and  I 
would  see  each  other  again,  because  the  i)ath  I  must  follow  jjasses 
through  all  manner  of  difficulties." 

Having  said  this,  he  set  out  along  the  path.  AVhen  he  had  gone 
a  long  way  he  was  startled  to  hear  at  some  distance  the  sound.  ■'  do'\ 
do''',  do'-',  do^'."  which  one  would  suppose  was  made  by  a  woodpecker 
loudly  pecking  on  a  great  hollow  tree.  Going  to  the  tree  whence  the 
noise  came,  he  saw  fluttering  from  {)lace  to  place  and  ]iecking  holes 
in  the  trunk  a  cuckoo  of  enormous  size.  A  sight  that  cauirht  his 
eye  and  conveyed  a  more  serious  warning  was  the  great  number  of 
arrows  stuck  in  the  tree  near  the  spot  where  the  cuckoo  was  fiuttering 
about.  He  concluded  that  these  arrows  had  belonged  probably  to 
tho.sc  who  had  been  his  brothers,  and  that  therefore  this  bird  was 
possessed  of  great  orenda  (magic  ]iower).  which  it  exerted  with  evil 
ptirpo.se  only.  Thereupon  the  lad  exclaimed:  "  It  shall  see  its  doom, 
for  now  I  will  kill  it."  Aiming  at  the  cuckoo,  his  arrow  struck  in  the 
very  center  of  its  body.  whereui)on  it  began  to  beat  with  its  wines 
against  the  ti'oc  ia  wliirli  it  was  piniuHl. 


582  ■  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ANN.  32 

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

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

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

The  lad  had  not  gone  far  when  all  at  once  he  saw  a  man  coming 
toward  him.  As  they  met,  the  stranger  said:  "I  am  thankful  that 
you  are  in  health  and  peace,  Hodadeiion."  Hodadeiion  answered: 
"It  is  true  in  the  terms  of  your  greeting  to  me.  It  is  now  my  turn, 
too.  to  greet  you.  I  am  thankful  that  you  are  well  and  in  peace." 
The  man  replied :  "  This  is  certainly   the  truth."     Then   the  two 


CURTl 
HE 


«J,'^]  LEGENDS  583 


smiled,  and  one  asked:  "Is  it  not  true  that  you  and  I  are  friends?  " 
Whereujion  the  other  answered :  "  Indeed  it  is  the  truth  we  ar(> 
friends.  Wiience  did  you  come?"  Tiien  the  lad  said:  " //o,  far 
from  here  have  I  come.  Wiience  did  you  come  to  this  phice?" 
Tiie  stranger  replied :  "  I.  this  self  of  mine,  came  from  far  from  here, 
and  I  have  left  no  relations,  and  this  is  the  reason  why  I  am  called 
Ilodadenon  (Siiodadefioii  "'•').  It  is  known  that  I  myself  am  the  last 
(inc.  The  lodire  whence  1  came  was  very  lon<if  and,  it  is  saiil,  was 
full  of  my  relations,  now  dead,  and  of  my  own  l)ix>thei's.  They  were 
destroyed  on  the  way  to  the  place  where  dwell  those  women  of  evil 
minds.  We  aie  friend.s,  so  let  us  go  together.  You  can  aid  me. 
and  we  shall  be  able  to  rob  them  of  tobacco."  The  stranger's  answer 
was,  "  Be  it  so,"  whereupon  the  two  at  once  started  olf  along  the 
])ath. 

After  g<iing  a  long  distance  they  found  the  remains  of  a  fire: 
there  they  stojjped  for  the  night.  As  .soon  as  they  had  warmed  up 
bread  and  meat  they  ate  their  evening  meal.  When  they  had  fin- 
ished eating  the  stiangei-  said;  "It  is  a  fact  that  these  portions  of 
bread  ailixed  to  the  tp))  of  the  rods  are  the  cause  or  occasion  for 
which  all  our  kinsmen  died.  Moreover,  it  is  for  us  to  make  this  a 
fea.st  of  Keunion  of  the  Living,  which  we  must  use  as  the  means  of 
thanksgiving  and  prayer.  We  nnist  make  an  oti'ering  of  tobacco  by 
casting  tobai'co  on  the  fire.  It  is  called  the  ceremony  of  making  an 
otfering  of  tobacco.  I  have  tobacco  with  which  to  do  this."  Iloda- 
denon answered:  ''So  be  it.  How  shall  we  do  it?"  The  stranger: 
"All  provisions  that  you  have  brought  with  you  we  must  lay  in  a 
circle  around  the  fire,  and  a  portion  we  must  place  aside  in  the 
dark  (i.  e.,  conceal  it)."  Saying.  "So  be  it."  Ilodadenon  began  to 
take  the  things  out  of  his  pouch  and  to  lay  them  in  a  circle  around 
the  fire.     lie  also  hid   far  away  in  the  dark  some  meat  and  bread. 

Standing  beside  the  fire  and  holding  the  tobacco  from  the  ])ouch 
in  his  hand,  he  said:  "Come  now.  listen  to  me.  you.  all  kinds  of 
animals  and  you.  too.  who  have  formed  and  made  my  life."  With 
these  words  he  cast  the  tobacco  into  the  fire,  exclaiming:  "  Xow 
do  you  listen:  now  the  smoke  of  tobacco  arises.  Moreover,  he  and 
I  ask  you  to  give  us  assistance,  all  of  you  who  inhabit  the  forests 
and  who  ai'e  immune  to  enchantment,  and  you  who  have  made  my 
life  and  that  of  my  friend,  who.  too.  lias  no  relations  left,  and  my- 
self who  have  no  ichitions  left,  for  which  reason  I  am  called  Iloda- 
denon. We  shall  fetch  all  these  from  the  place  where  they  have 
perished.  The.se  are  the  things  for  which  I  pray.  So  thus  we  here 
fulfill  our  obligation  by  placing  this  (i)l)acco  in  this  place,  and  we 
have  laid  away  food  in  the  darkness."  Having  completed  this  in- 
vocation, Ilodadenon  said  to  his  companion:  "Come,  now,  let  us 
go." 


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

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

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

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

Next  tlie  young  men  asked  the  man  with  the  long  eyebrows  where 
stood  the  lodge  of  the  very  wicked  women.  He  answered  the  spokes- 
man :  "  Have  courage.  There  stands  the  lodge  yonder,  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  lake.  It  is  doubtful  whether  you  two  can  cross  the  lake. 
As  we  know,  the  ice  on  it  is  very  slippery.  No  matter  who  it  is  that 
goes  there,  as  soon  as  he  steps  upon  the  ice  a  man  speaks  out,  saying : 
•  Let  it  rain  bones ;  let  it  be  nothing  but  bones.'  And  at  once  he  be- 
comes a  pile  of  bones.  Such  will  happen  to  you  if  it  be  that  you  two 
are  sorcerers."  Hodadeiion  said  in  reply:  "Come,  my  friend,  let 
us  start."  Then  they  set  out  at  once.  Arriving  at  the  lake,  they 
found  that  the  ice  that  covered  it  was  very  smooth  and  that  the  lodge 
stood  on  the  farther  shore.    There  a  number  of  people  were  walking 


CUETI 
HE 


^JS]  LEGENDS  585 


about.  One  would  think  tliat  tlicy  were  expectiiiff  sonietliinfj;  to 
happen,  for  they  were  looking  around.  Hodadenon  said  to  his  com- 
panion: "Come,  let  us  start."  Cnstrinpino:  their  bows,  thev  started 
on  their  journey  over  the  ice.  in  tiie  couise  of  which  tiiey  used  their 
bows  as  walking  sticks,  striking  with  them  ujiou  tlie  ice.  Kvery- 
tliing  went  on  all  right  as  they  made  tlieir  way  over  the  fi-ozen  sur- 
face. All  at  once  the  peo{)le  on  the  shore  saw  them  coming,  wiiere- 
upon  they  came  at  once  on  tiie  ice  to  meet  the  bold  visitors.  At  once 
the  people  shouted,  "  It  is  raining  bones,"  and  they  came  on,  while 
the  two  kept  on  theii-  way.  At  hist  one  of  the  i)eoi)le  of  tiie  shore 
exclaimed  :  ■"Aiui  I  \ow  I  believe  it  certain  that  Hodadenon,  the  great 
wizai'd,  has  arrived,  and  they  have  indeed  crossed  the  lake."  Then 
all  returned  to  their  lotlge  on  the  shoie.  Having  crossed  the  lake, 
the  two  went  at  once  to  the  lodge  on  the  shore.  AVitii  braxado  they 
entered  it.  finding  all  the  occupants  at  home.  One  tiieic  was  who 
was  an  old  wonum. 

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

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


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

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

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

Thus  they  dwell  today  according  to  the  labors  of  Hodadefion. 

This  is  the  length  of  the  legend. 

lis.  The  Legend  ok  Gadjis'dodo'  and  S'hogo^"ow.\'s 

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

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

It  came  to  pass  one  day  that  S'hogo°"gwa's  said:  "Oh,  my 
nephew !  I  am  thanlcful  that  now  you  are  growing  into  manhood.  It 
is  a  long  time  since  I  began  to  care  for  you.  It  will  happen  that  a 
little  later  on  you  will  kill  larger  animals." 


HEwn^]  LEGENDS  587 

In  time  this  did  hapj)en.  for  one  d:i\'  he  kiUed  a  partiidfxe,  which 
lie  carried  home.  On  enterinfj  the  lodge  his  uncle  exclaimeil:  "'  Wu\ 
my  nephew!  I  am  very  tliankful  you  are  retiirninf^  home,  having 
killed  a  large  game  animal.  What  is  the  name  of  the  animal  you 
have  killed?  What  kind  of  animal  is  it?  Do  you  know?"  In 
reply  the  youth  .said:  "I  do  not  know."'  The  old  man.  going  to- 
ward his  nephew,  gras|)ed  the  i)artridge  .so  cpiickly  that  he  raised  the 
young  bt)y  off  the  ground,  saying:  "  Hand  me  at  once  the  body  of  the 
thing  which  you  ai'e  bringing  back  killed,  for  you,  of  course,  do  not 
know  what  kind  of  thing  it  is."  Then  the  old  man.  going  aside  and 
taking  a  seat,  began  to  pluck  and  dress  the  partridge,  saying  at  the 
same  time:  "This  thing  re<|uii'es.  of  course,  nothing  but  ilumplings." 
Setting  a  kettle  over  the  fire,  he  made  dumplings  which  he  put  into 
the  kettle  with  the  partridge.  The  old  man  kept  on  saying,  as  he 
watched  the  bird  cooking:  "  Perha]>s  this  will  taste  exceedingly 
good  to  us  two."  The  grease  floated  on  the  top  of  the  water,  for  tiie 
bird  was  very  fat.  Then  the  old  man,  removing  the  kettle  from  the  fire, 
set  it  aside.  He  put  into  a  bai'k  bowl  or  dish  a  share  for  his  nephew, 
saying:  "Oh,  my  nephew!  this  is  what  you  may  eat,"  but  he  held  it 
just  over  the  fire.  AVhen  the  young  boy  aro.se  to  receive  his  portion 
and  reached  out  for  the  dish,  his  uncle,  grasping  his  hand  along  with 
the  dish,  pulled  the  nephew  over  the  fire,  wherein  he  fell  on  his  elbows. 
At  once  he  arose  covered  with  hot  coals,  and  took  a  seat  aside  on  his 
own  side  of  the  fire.  Dissinudating  his  evil  purjiose.  the  old  man  .said  : 
"I  am  in  too  much  of  a  hurry,  for  I  thought  that  I  held  it  aside 
from  the  fireplace."  The  nephew  was  greatly  astoni.shed  at  wiiat 
his  uncle  had  done  (o  him,  for  he  never  had  illtreatcd  him  before: 
and  the  lad  began  to  weep,  saying  to  himself:  ''I  wonder  why  he 
has  done  this  thing  to  me." 

The  next  moi'ning  the  old  man  said:  "Oh.  my  ne])hew !  arise, 
(iame  animals  usually  go  about  the  clear  places  very  early  in  the 
morning.    So  arise  and  go  out  to  hunt." 

Aftei-  arising  and  making  needed  jireparations.  the  nephew  started 
out  to  hunt  in  the  forest.  He  kept  on  thiidving:  "My  uncle  has 
indeed  al)used  me  vei-y  much."  As  the  boy  went  from  ])lace  to  place 
he  was  nnich  surprised  to  hear  a  man  at  a  distance  say,  Tcit! 
and  he  directed  his  steps  toward  the  sjiot  whence  he  believed  the 
sound  came.  Soon  he  was  surprised  to  see  the  skull  of  an  old  man 
protruding  out  of  the  ground.  As  the  boy  aiii)roached  the  skull 
said  to  him:  "Oh.  my  nephew!  you  are  nuich  to  be  pitied  now.  for 
affairs  have  taken  a  turn  which  will  cause  you  misfortune.  Kxert 
your.self  with  all  your  f magic)  jiower.  for  he  will  indeed  out- 
match your  orenda  (magic  power)  if  it  so  be  that  you  do  not  learn 
to  remember  the  things  which  you  have  killed."  Thus  spoke  the 
skull  of  the  old  man. 


588  SENECA   FICnON,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

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

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

Then  the  old  man  set  a  kettle  over  the  fire,  with  the  remark :  "  The 
only  way  to  prepare  this  game  is  to  cook  it  with  corn-meal  mush, 
which  should  be  eaten  with  it.  I  shall  skim  off  the  grease  and  pour 
it  over  the  mush."  The  youth  did  nothing  but  watch  his  uncle. 
When  the  meal  was  cooked  the  uncle  kept  saying:  ''This  will  indeed 
taste  very  good  to  us  two."  Then  he  took  out  a  share  for  his  nephew, 
putting  into  a  bark  dish  som  ■  of  the  mush  and  a  portion  of  the  meat. 
Going  to  the  edge  of  the  fireplace,  he  said,  "  Oh,  my  nephew !  here 
is  a  portion  for  you  to  eat,"  again  holding  it  over  the  fire.  The 
youth  arose  quickly  to  receive  it  and  took  the  bark  bowl  in  his  hands. 
Just  as  before,  the  old  man  grasped  his  hands  and  drew  him  into 


,-,^;-S]  LEGENDS  589 

the  fire,  at  the  same  time  saying:  "  ^\'hat  is  the  use  of  my  holdiiifi  it 
somewhere  else  when  I  myself  am  lnmf;ry."  Of  course  the  youth  fell 
into  the  fire  on  liis  elhows,  and  on  jumjiinp  out  he  was  all  fovered 
with  hot  coals  and  ashes.  (loing  aside,  lie  took  a  seat  there.  Tlien 
S'hogo""gwa's  began  to  eat.  A\'hen  lie  liad  finished,  he  remarked  to 
himself,  ''I  think  I  will  save  some  of  this  for  another  time":  so  he 
put  some  of  the  food  in  a  high  place.  The  youtii.  his  nephew,  began 
to  weep,  saying:  "Perhaps  he  will  l;iil  me:  I  thiidv  it  po.ssible." 

The  next  morning  the  old  man  again  spoke  to  his  nephew,  saying: 
"Oh,  my  nephew  I  do  you  arise.  It  is  the  custom  for  game  animals 
to  be  found  in  tlie  open  places  verj-  early  in  tlie  nioi-ning."  Quickly 
arising  from  his  bed.  the  youtii  at  once  made  tiie  necessary  prepara- 
tions, and  after  linishing  these,  he  started  out  to  hunt.  Once  more 
he  directed  his  cour.se  toward  the  place  wlierc  the  >l<ull  of  his  luude 
protruded  from  the  ground.  On  arriving  tliere,  his  uncle  addres.sed 
him :  "  \\'ell,  my  nephew,  what  came  to  pass?  "  The  youth  answered  : 
"I  kept  repeating  tiie  name  '  raccofin  '  as  I  went  along,  and  wiieu 
T  had  leacluMl  a  puint  (piite  near  the  lodge  I  just  wiiispered  the 
luuue  to  myself,  .^aying  '  IJaccoon,  raccoon,  racroon,'  But  at  the  very 
doorway  I  caught  my  foot  in  an  obstruction,  and  the  body  of  the 
animal  fell  into  the  lodge  and  I  with  it.  At  that  moment  my  uncle 
asked  me,  '  ^Vhat  is  the  name  of  the  game  you  are  bringing  home 
killed?'  Of  course.  I  did  not  remember  anything  whatever  about 
the  name  of  the  animal,  so  I  answei-eil  liim,  '1  do  not  know.'  To  this 
the  old  man  reidieil,  "Quickly  hand  me  the  body  of  the  animal,  for 
you  do  not  know  its  name:  and  it  is  well  kiu)\\n  tliat  raccoon  is  its 
name.'"  'J'hen  the  man  whose  skull  protruded  from  the  ground 
said:  "  Oh  I  how  unfortunate  it  was  that  stumbling  against  an  ob- 
struction and  falling  down  caused  you  to  forget  the  name  of  the 
animal.  Exert  yourself  to  the  utmost.  Re  brave.  Your  only  safety 
consists  in  remembering  the  names  of  the  animals  that  you  may 
kill.  You  must  remember  at  all  times  these  names.  Now.  then,  go 
to  that  jilace  there  in  the  distance  where  tui-keys  abound.  One  of 
them  you  must  kill:  and  when  you  have  killed  it,  you  must  pass 
by  this  place  on  your  way  home."  .\s  dii-ected,  the  youth  went  to 
the  place  designated  by  his  uncle,  and  there  he  killed  a  tui-key.  Then 
he  returned  to  the  spot  where  his  uncle's  skidl  protruded  from  the 
ground.  To  encourage  him  his  uncle  said  :  "  lie  brave  and  exert 
yotirself  to  the  utmost.  This  time  you  must  remember  the  name  of 
this  game  bird.  It  is  called  a  turkey.  As  you  are  going  ;don<r 
homeward,  you  must  keep  saying,  'Turkey,  turkey,  turkey';  and  as 
soon  as  you  arrive  near  the  lodge  you  must  set  your  feet  down  care- 
fidly  as  you  walk,  and  must  go  along  whispering  the  name  to  your- 
self, '  Turkey,  turkey,  turkey.' " 


590  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  Ietu.  ANN.  32 

So  the  youth  started  for  home,  and  as  he  went  along  he  kept  say- 
ing, "  Turkey,  turkey,  turkey."  On  arriving  near  the  lodge,  he  began 
to  whisper  the  name,  "  Turkey,  turkey,  turkey,"  and  he  set  each  foot 
down  carefully  and  securely.  In  this  way  he  reentered  his  home 
without  mishap.  And  the  old  man,  his  uncle,  was  surprised  and 
said :  "  Oh,  my  nephew  !  you  are  bringing  back  a  large  game  animal, 
killed.  I  am  thankful  for  it.  What  is  the  name  of  it^"  The 
youth  replied :  "  Oh  !  the  name  of  it  is  turkey — just  turkey."  The  old 
man,  his  uncle,  merely  exclaimed,  ll'w>',  and.  going  aside,  took  a  .seat 
there.  In  the  meantime  the  youth  dragged  the  body  of  the  turkey 
aside  to  pluck  and  dress  it.  While  engaged  at  his  task  he  remarked : 
"The  only  way  to  cook  this  is  to  boil  it  down  to  a  pot  roast."  Next 
he  proceeded  to  pluck  and  then  to  quarter  the  bird.  When  he  had 
finished  his  task,  he  started  the  meat  to  cooking  in  a  kettle  over  the 
fire.  As  he  saw  it  begin  to  cook  he  kept  saying :  "  It  will  certainly 
taste  good  to  uncle  and  me."  The  uncle  on  his  part  said :  "  I  have 
been  thinking  generally  that  he  [my  nephew]  would  become  perhaps 
a  fine  hunter ;  for  it  has  been  a  verj'  difficult  task  for  me  to  raise  3'ou, 
and  I  have  worked  hard  to  do  it." 

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

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


CD 
HE 


f,^l^i]  LEGENDS  591 


that  he  was  angiy.     The  youth  wt-iit  directly  to  the  place  where  liis 
other  uncle's  skull  protruded  from  the  ground. 

Having  arrived  at  the  spot,  the  skull  addressed  him.  saying:  "  Well, 
my  liephew,  what  hapjiened  V'  The  youth  answered  :  "  I  remeniiiered 
the  name  all  the  way  home,  and  when  my  uncle  asked  me, '  What  are 
j^ou  bringing  home,  killed?'  I  answered  him,  'Only  a  turkey.'  My 
uncle  replied,  merely,  Ww'.  Then  I  prepared  the  bird  and  cooked 
it.  As  soon  as  it  was  cooked  I  kept  saying:  'I  shall  not  act  in  the 
manner  in  which  my  uncle  acts.'  Then  I  ])Ut  a  jiortion  for  him  on  a 
bark  dish  and  held  the  dish  directly  over  the  fire,  saying:  'Oh.  my 
nuclei  eat  this  portion.'  He  replied,  '  //«'.  I  am  very  thankful,'  and 
graspeil  the  dish,  whereupon,  gripping  his  hands.  I  pulled  him  down 
int()  the  fire.  I  may  have  held  it  in  the  wrong  place  because  I  was 
verv  liungrv,  but  the  real  reason  I  did  so  was  because  I  was  angry 
with  him  on  account  of  the  many  times  he  scorched  and  burned  me. 
Mv  uncle  said:  'I  believe  that  you  have, now  begun  to  abuse  me.'  I 
replied  that  it  seemed  to  be  the  custom  when  one  was  giving  food 
to  another.  Tie  walked  to  and  fro.  and  one  would  think  that  my 
uncle  was  angry."' 

The  skull  of  the  uncle  at  once  i-eplied:  "' Tt  was  just  riglit  for 
him.  Now,  indeed,  this  is  about  to  come  to  pass.  It  is  impossible 
that  in  the  future  he  will  ask  you  for  the  name  of  the  things  which 
you  may  bring  home  killed.  Oh.  my  nepiiew  !  Tt  is  known  that 
your  uncle  is  making  jireparations.  lie  is  gathering  logs  and  burn- 
ing them  on  the  fue.  and  wiien  night  comes  he  will  have  a  gi-eat 
fire,  as  is  well  l<ii<i\\n.  So.  be  bi'a\e.  careful,  and  watchful.  \'ou 
must  not  go  to  sleep.  An  evil  dream  will  cause  him  to  arise  sud- 
denly, as  is  well  known.  Then  you  nuist  <iuickly  take  down  his 
war  club  and  strike  a  blow  with  it  on  your  uncle's  head,  at  the 
same  time  -saying:  •  \\'hat  is  causing  you  to  see  marvels:!'  -Vnd  if 
he  does  not  answer  at  once.  'It  has  ceased."  you  must  again  strike 
a  blow  on  his  head  with  the  war  chil).  Tiien  it  will  come  to  pass 
that  he  will  say,  as  is  well  kiu)wn.  'The  tiling  that  the  dream  spirit 
has  conunanded  me  is  baleful.'  ^\'hereu])oii  you  unist  ask  him, 
'  AVhat  did  the  dream  spirit  connuand  you  to  do?'  In  answer  he 
"ill  tell  you  what  he  has  been  commaiuled  to  recpiire  you  to  do. 
Then  you  must  leturn  to  this  place,  as  I  do  not  know  what  ho 
will  say." 

Now,  the  yo;ith  returned  to  the  lodge  which  he  called  his  home. 
Night  came  on  them.  The  (ire  was  a  brisk  one.  It  so  hapjiened 
that  the  old  man,  the  uncle,  said:  "The  reason  I  have  put  these 
large  logs  on  the  fire  is  because  it  seems  likely  that  we  two  will 
have  a  very  cold  time  tonight.'"  The  (wo  lay  down  as  usual,  but 
the  youth  kept  awake  as  he  had  been  warned  to  do  by  his  uncle's 


592  SEXECA    FICTTOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

skull.  There  was  a  hole  worn  through  his  skin  covering  through 
which  he  kept  a  strict  watch  on  his  uncle. 

About  midnight,  perhaps,  suddenly  the  old  man  began  to  moan 
and  groan,  muttering  .strange  words  very  loudly,  the  sounds  in- 
creasing in  intensity.  Interspersed  with  these  mutterings  were  the 
sounds  'en',  ¥«',  '<"«'.  Suddenly  arising  from  his  couch,  he  moved 
about  on  his  knees,  meanwhile  uttering  the  same  soxmds  and 
words  as  the  youth  had  first  heard.  Then,  with  one  great  cry  of 
'e/T'.'  he  cast  himself  on  the  fire  and  pushed  with  his  feet  and  hands 
the  huge  firebrands  that  had  accumulated  over  toward  the  place 
where  lay  his  nephew.  Seeing  this,  the  nephew,  quickly  uncover- 
ing himself,  leaped  up  just  in  time,  for  the  great  pieces  of  burning 
logs  fell  blazing  where* he  had  just  lain.  Running  over  to  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  fire,  he  took  down  from  its  resting  place  the 
war  club  of  his  uncle.  His  uncle  then  being  close  to  him,  groping 
around  on  his  knees  and  uttering  dark  words,  the  youth  struck  him 
a  blow  on  the  head,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "  What  is  causing  you 
to  see  marvels?"  and  again  raised  the  war  club  to  deliver  another 
blow.  But  the  dream  of  the  old  man  ceased  at  that  time,  and 
the  uncle  took  a  seat  at  one  side  of  the  fire,  and  the  youth  took 
a  seat  on  the  opposite  side.  Thereupon  the  uncle  said  to  his  nephew : 
'•  Compliance  with  what  the  dream  commanded  me  is  of  the  utmost 
difficulty."  The  youth  answered:  "Well,  what  did  the  dream  com- 
mand you  to  do?"  The  imcle  made  reply:  ''It  commanded  me. 
saying.  'You  two  shall  hazard  your  lives';  it  said  to  me  that  we 
two  must  'take  the  roof  off  the  lodge.'"  The  youth  replied:  "So 
let  it  come  to  pass.     AVhat  it  has  commanded  amounts  to  nothing.'' 

Then  the  two  men  returned  to  bed  for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 
Very  early  the  next  morning  the  youth  went  to  the  spot  where  the 
skull  of  his  uncle  protruded  from  the  ground.  When  he  reached  the 
place,  the  imcle  addressed  him :  '"  Well,  what  happened  during  the 
night?  "  The  young  nephew  answered:  "Well,  he  saj's  that  he  and 
I  shall  hazard  our  lives  by  trading  objects  this  very  night  which  is 
approaching."  To  this  statement  the  uncle  replied :  "  I  have  been 
saying  all  along  that  he  is  determined  to  outmatch  your  magic 
power  (orenda).  as  is  well  known.  It  is  his  manner  of  doing  things. 
He  will  request  something  which  you  do  not  possess,  and  if  it  so  be 
that  you  can  not  obtain  it  at  once,  something  direful  will  happen 
to  you — you  die,  paying  the  penalty  by  your  death.  •  Now  I  know 
that  he  will  request  the  entrails  of  a  bear  from  you.  for  the  very 
reason  that  you  have  them  not.  Then  you  must  proceed  in  this  man- 
ner: You  must  go  out  and  find  a  wild  grapevine.  When  you  have 
found  it  you  must  unwind  the  vine  and  cut  off  a  sufficient  portion. 
This  you  must  rub  between  your  hands  and  blow  on,  and  instantly 
the  vine  will  become  the  entrails  of  a  bear.    You  must  sav.  '  I  want 


CIRTI 


'l^-]  LEGENDS  593 


the  fat  entrails  of  a  bear.'  Make  haste  in  wliat  you  are  ahoiit  to  do, 
for  I  know  tliat  he  lias  coin])leted  all  his  piepaiation  at  the  lo(lsj;e." 
So  the  youth  went  fuith  to  hunt  for  a  wild  grapevine,  and  found 
one  whirji  was  wound  around  a  support.  Cutting  off  at  onee  what 
he  re(|uireil.  he  began  to  stiaighten  out  the  length.  Next  he  fastened 
the  coils  together  by  means  of  iiark  c-ords,  and  by  ruliliing  it  with 
his  hands  and  blowing  on  it  he  soon  transformed  the  vine  into  the 
fat  I'litrails  of  a  bear. 

lu'turning  to  the  lodge,  the  youth  addressed  his  old  uncle  thus, 
"Oh.  my  uncle  I  I  return  fully  prepared,"  to  which  the  uncle 
answered:  "So  be  it;  you  just  go  to  the  end  of  the  lodge.*'  The 
nephew  refjlied :  "  So  be  it."  Thereupon  the  uncle  added :  "  It  is 
not  certain  whether  I  shall  go  now  or  later.  lUit  you  must  be  in 
an  expectant  mood  there."  Then  the  youth  started,  pas.sing  along 
on  the  insiile  of  the  lodge,  which  was  very  long.  A\'hen  he  reached 
the  end  of  the  lodge  he  was  surprised  to  see  there  the  signs  of  a 
fire,  one  which  had  burned  perhaps  a  long  time  in  the  past.  lie 
took  a  seat  there.  f(U-  he  was  ready  for  the  work  ahead  of  him.  It 
was  not  very  long  afterward  when  at  last  the  old  man  began  to 
sing  in  his  own  ])lace:  '"  }'m''A/^/7,  yi/'hin,  he  and  I  are  bartering: 
yu"h<'n,  thou  Gadjis'dodo".  thou  who  art  a  ne[)hew,  iju''hen."' 
This  he  repeated  in  a  loud  voice,  and  the  song  was'heard  by  all  the 
wizards  and  sorcerers  dwelling  along  the  borders  of  the  land,  all  of 
whom  said  one  to  another:  ''Now  again  his  intended  vit-tim  is  his 
own  nephew." 

-Making  his  way  up  to  the  ])lace  wiiere  his  nephew  was  sitting,  the 
old  man  said:  "  Now.  I  am  come  to  barter."  He  carried  in  his  hand 
a  piece  of  baik  on  which  lay  .several  pieces  of  meat.  The  youth 
answered:  "  ^^'hat  shall  I  give  your'  The  old  man.  in  accordance 
with  the  custom  on  such  occasions,  replied:  "I  can  not  tell  what 
it  shall  be.  Perhaps  you  have  the  flesh  of  the  raccoon?"  The  youth 
rejoined:  "I  will  gi\e  it  to  you."  The  uncle  answered:  "No:  not 
that."  The  youth  tiien  said:  "Turkey  meat;  that  I  will  give  you." 
The  uncle  replied:  "No;  not  that."  Then  the  old  iium  again  began 
singing.  ''  Yu'^hen,  he  and  I  are  bartering;  yu''h<'n,  yu'^heu,  thou 
Gadjis'dodo'.  ilmu  who  art  a  nephew;  yu'hen,  yu'^heh-'''  At  this 
moment  flames  buist  out  all  around  the  place  where  Gadjis'dodo' 
was  sitting.  In  defense,  the  youth  said:  "Dji'.  d'ji'.  dji' .  Oh.  my 
uncle  I  \erily,  you  mean  the  entrails  of  a  bear,  the  very  fat  entrails 
of  a  bear,  which  I  have."  As  soon  as  he  had  ceased  speaking,  the 
flames  went  down.  Drawing  forth  the  entrails  of  the  bear  (which 
he  had  prepared),  the  youth  gave  them  to  his  uncle.  They  ex- 
changed the  pieces  of  meat  for  the  bear's  entrails.  The  old  man  said  : 
"I  am  ihankfid  for  these."  The  youth  then  thought  to  himself: 
!)4f.l5°— 10 .38 


594  SENECA    FICnON,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ANN.  32 

*■  I  will  go  back  to  my  place  as  soon  as  I  think  he  has  retuined  to 
his  own  seat  on  his  side  of  tlie  fii-e."'  As  he  started,  tlie  old  man 
again  began  to  sing:  '■^Tu'^hen,  i/u'^heri,  he  and  I  are  bartering; 
thou  (ladjis'dodo',  thou  who  art  a  nephew;  yu'^hen,  >/u''hrn.'' 
Believing  that  his  uncle  had  i-esumed  his  seat,  the  nephew  returned 
to  iiis  couch,  where  he  found  (he  old  man  sitting,  smoking.  The  old 
man  said  merely:  "  We,  oh,  my  nephew  !  have  now  finished  this  ta.'-k."' 
The  next  morning  the  youth  again  went  to  the  place  where  the 
skull  of  his  other  uncle  was  protruding  from  the  ground.  When 
he  arrived  there  his  uncle  asked  him  what  had  taken  place  last 
night.  In  answer,  the  youth  related  in  great  detail  just  what  had 
come  to  pass  between  the  old  man  and  himself.  He  told  him  all  very 
carefully.  Thereupon  this  uncle  said:  "Now,  it  is  a  fact  that  he  is 
collecting  more  logs  and  putting  them  on  the  iii-e  and  near  it.  for 
he  will  again  make  a  large  fire  this  very  night.  And  it  is.  too.  a 
fact  that  when  he  has  his  dream  tonight,  he  will  say  in  his  own 
mind  that  he  desires  the  liver  of  a  bear.  This  you  do  not  possess. 
Be  brave  and  do  your  very  best.  This  time  you  must  hunt  for 
fungi  that  grow  on  old  rotten  logs.  These  you  must  jjrocure — 
two  in  number — and  you  must  treat  them  in  the  same  manner  as 
you  did  the  grapevine,  and  at  once  they  will  become  bear's  livers. 
So,  now,  go  out  Iiunting  for  these  things."  The  youth  at  once  .stai'ted 
on  his  cjuest  for  fungi  in  the  forest.  He  was  not  very  long  in  finding 
the  two  that  he  required  for  his  purpose.  At  once  he  rubbed  them 
with  his  hands,  saying  at  the  same  time:  "Let  these  soon  become 
bear's  livers."  Immediately  the  transformation  took  place  as  he 
wished. 

Then  he  started  for  the  lodge,  where  dwelt  his  uncle.  Arriving 
there,  he  said:  "Oh,  my  uncle!  I  have  now  returned."  He  saw 
that  the  fire  was  a  great  one.  Night  came  on  at  last,  and  tiie  two  lay 
down  to  sleep,  but  the  youth  did  not  fall  asleep.  It  was  perhaps 
miclnight  when  suddenly  the  old  man  began  to  moan  and  groan  with 
increasing  force  and  loudness;  all  at  once  he  arose  and  crawled 
around  there  on  his  knees.  Finally,  with  a  loud  cry,  V/T',  he  threw 
himself  on  the  fire.  At  once  large  pieces  of  wood,  all  ablaze,  fell  in 
every  direction,  some  in  the  direction  of  the  youth's  bed.  Quickly 
arising  and  crossing  over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  he  took 
down  the  war  club  of  his  uncle,  and  seeing  the  head  of  the  latter 
close  to  him.  moving  from  place  to  place,  he  struck  it  a  blow  with 
the  club,  at  the  same  time  saying:  "Oh,  mj^  imcle!  what  is  causing 
you  to  see  marvels T'  Then  quickly  he  raised  the  club  for  another 
blow.  Suddenly,  however,  the  dream  ceased,  and  the  old  man  ex- 
claimed, to  avoid  another  blow  of  the  war  club :  "  It  has  stopped 
now."  Having  said  this  he  drew  aside  and  took  a  seat.  The  youth 
did   likewise.     Addressing   his   nephew,   the   old   man   said:  "Oh, 


CIIITIN 
HEIVITT 


J  LEGENDS  595 


iu'|)li('\v  !  ('()iii|iliiin(t'  widi  the  r(]iiiii];nni  wliirli  tlic  (Irciun  <r;i\e  me  is: 
very  dillinilt  indeed,  yea,  daiiireroiis."  Tiie  yoiitli  ;iskcil :  "  W'liat 
did  it  coiiiiiiand  ytniV  The  uncle  answered:  "  \\'liy.  it  coiunianded 
me.  sayinji  you  and  he  nuist  barter  by  e.\chan<ie.  you  and  your 
nephew;  and  it  eonmianded  also  that  this  must  take  |)hict«  early  in 
tlie  inorninsr.  and  that  a  calamitous  thin<f  would  happen  to  you  il'  it 
should  come  to  pass  that  t|lie  barter  by  exchan<re  failed  to  take  place 
befoi'e  midday.'"  The  youth  replied:  "So  be  it:  we  will  attcuil  to 
this  matter  in  the  mornin<r."  Then  the  two  rctiirncil  to  their  re- 
spective beds. 

\'ery  early  the  next  morning  the  old  man.  havinir  arisen,  again  ad- 
dressed tlie  youth:  "  Now  you  nuist  go  once  moi'e  to  the  erul  of  the 
lodge."  Having  gone  there,  the  nephew  kindled  a  lire.  .\11  at  once 
the  old  man  in  his  place  began  to  sing  again,  as  before:  ^' }'u''he/l, 
yu'hcn.  he  and  I  are  bartering  by  exchange;  thou  (Jadjis'dodo'.  thou 
who  art  my  nephew.  yu''hcn.  yu''hen.."  As  he  sang  the  youth  saw 
that  he  came  toward  him.  Having  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  loclge 
occupied  by  liis  nephew,  the  old  man  said:  "Oh.  my  nephew!  I 
come  to  barter  by  exchange."'  The  latter  at  once  ivplied:  ■•  So  let  it 
be:  what,  then,  shall  I  give  you  ^ ""  The  uncle's  answer  was:  "Oh! 
you  have  it  certainly.  Vou  have  what  I  desire."'  At  this,  then,  the 
youth  began  to  olfer  his  uncle  the  things  which  he  o.stensibly  guessed 
tlie  old  man  desired.  A\'hen  he  had  consumed  suHicient  time  to  mis- 
lead his  antagonist,  lie  (imilly  exclaimed:  "Oh.  my  uncle  I  I  believe 
that  you  indeed  want  the  li\er  of  a  bear — the  fat  liver  of  a  bear." 
Quite  deceived  as  to  the  mental  acuteness  of  his  ne])hew,  the  uncle 
replied:  "I  am  very  thankful  foi-  this.""  Then  they  two  made  the 
exchiinge.  and  the  olil  man  returned  to  his  own  end  of  the  lodge. 
carrying  on  his  back  the  package  of  livei-.  As  he  went  along  he  sang 
his  song:  "  )'!«'' Ac/7.  yu'heN.  he  and  I  are  bartering  by  exchange. 
yu''h('ri.  yu''hfn:  thou  (Jadjis'dodo".  who  art  my  nephew.  yi>''hi/i, 
yii'^lu'n.''''  Thus  the  uncle  returned  to  his  seat.  AA'hcn  the  youth 
thought  that  the  old  man  had  reached  his  own  part  of  the  lodgi'.  he 
retui-ned  to  his  fiwn  bed.  When  he  Inul  I'eached  it  the  old  man  said 
to  him:  "  Xow.  what  the  dream  conunanded  me  has  bct'ii  fulfilled.  I 
am  thankful,  too."' 

Then  tlH>  youth.  ha\ing  made  the  necessary  i)rcparat ions,  de- 
]iai-ted.  going  to  the  i)lace  where  the  skull  of  his  other  uncle  j^ro- 
truded  out  of  the  groimd.  On  his  ai'rival  there,  the  luicle  said  to 
him:  "^A'ell,  what  happened  T"  The  nephew  answered  him:  "Oh! 
we  completed  the  exchange,  and  I  pas.sed  through  the  test  without 
misha])."  To  this  the  uncle  rejoined:  "Now  you  must  hasten  to 
return  to  the  lodge.  It  is  your  turn  to  ha\e  a  dream  of  that  kind. 
Vou,  too.  must  kindle  the  fire  by  gathering  great  logs,  so  that  you 
mav  have  a  great  fire.    As  soon  as  midnisrht  comes  it  is  for  vou  to  do 


596  SENECA   FICnON,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  axn.  32 

just  as  your  uncle  did,  and  as  soon  as  he  strikes  you  a  blow  with 
his  war  club,  j'ou  must  say :  '  It  is  now  ceased.  Difficult  and  sinis- 
ter is  what  the  dream  commanded  me  to  do.'  Then  your  uncle  will 
ask:  'What  did  it  command  you  to  do?'  In  reply  you  must  say 
that  it  conmianded  you  to  have  your  uncle  seek  for  the  wish  [word] 
of  your  dream ;  and  it  said,  too,  that  a  dii-ef ul  thing  should  hap- 
pen to  your  uncle  should  he  have  failed  to  divine  your  dream's 
desire  by  midday.  A  small  round  squash,  which  is  growing  on  a 
vine  planted  by  your  uncle  beneath  his  bed,  is  what  you  must  de- 
sire in  your  dream.  He  prizes  this  squash  very  much,  believing 
that  his  life  depends  on  it.  You  must  say,  'Yes'  only  when  he 
names  this  .squash  as  the  thing  desired  for  you  by  your  dream. 
So  now  quickly  return  to  the  lodge  and  get  ahead  of  him  in  making 
the  preparations  for  kindling  a  great  fire  tonight.  You  must  make 
the  fii-e,  and  you  must  gather  large  logs  to  maintain  it  in  full  blaze 
during  the  night,  for  you  must  have  a  fine  fire." 

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


--'^;]  LEGENDS  597 

Vciy  tMrly  in  tlie  nioniiii<r  the  yuutli  arose  aiiJ,  after  making  liis 
usual  picpaiatious,  said  to  his  uncle:  '"Tiie  time  has  now  come  lor 
us  to  hefiin."'  Tlie  uncle  replied  :  "  So  be  it;  I  am  ready.''  Wiiile  they 
were  ttikim;'  tiieir  places  the  old  man  remarked:  "^'erily,  you  nuist 
give  nie  a  clue  to  tiie  "  word  "  ol'  your  dream."  l)Ut  the  neplivw 
answered:  "Tliat  is  not  at  all  tiie  custom  in  such  cases,  and  it  is 
cei'tain  tliat  tiie  reason  it  is  called  'the  se(d<ing  of  one's  dream  word' 
is  that  no  clue  nIkiII  lie  aiven."  At  this  rei)ly  the  old  man  exriainied 
with  mock  surprise,  "  ll'(/''.'  this  is  indei'd  an  astonishinij  thiiii;'"; 
but  he  failed  to  make  his  nephew  a<;ree  to  give  him  a  small  clue  to 
the  thing  he  had  dreamed. 

'J'hereupon  the  old  man  began  to  ask  the  ([uestions  necessary  tf) 
ascertain  the  dream  desire  of  his  nejihcw,  lie  asked:  "It  may  be 
that  you  desire  my  ]ionch?"  His  nephew  answered:  "No:  that  is 
not  what  1  desire."  The  old  man  continueil:  "It  may  be  (bat  you 
desii'c.  possilily.  my  raccoon-skin  robe  ^  "  The  answer  came:  "NO: 
that  is  not  what  I  desii-e."  The  next  (|Uestion  was:  '"It  may  be  thai 
}^ou  desire  flesh  of  the  bear^""  In  di'-gii-l  the  ne])hew  answered: 
"  TFr?".  No,  no  I  1  ilo  not  want  that.""  The  luicle  ventured  :  "It  may 
be,  it  is  probable,  you  desire  the  flesh  of  the  r'accoon  ^  "  The  youth 
answered:  "No;  that  is  not  what  the  dream  indicalecl.""  Another 
question  from  the  uncle:  "It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  you  desire  the 
flesh  of  the  turkey  T'  His  neiihew  said:  "No;  that  is  not  what  is 
recpiired.""  Again  the  uncle  asked:  "It  may  be,  peiiuij^s.  iliat  you 
desire  the  llesh  of  the  deer^"  The  nepiu'W  rejoineil:  "No:  that  is 
not  what  the  dream  indicateci."  Mciinwhile  the  uncle  and  his 
nephew  ke|)t  walking  up  and  down  in  their  res])e.cti\e  places.  Again 
the  old  man  asked:  "It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  you  desire  mv  war 
club?"  But  his  nephew  rei)lied:  "\o:  that  is  not  what  I  desire."' 
At  lust  the  old  nuin  spoke,  saying:  "Well,  what,  indeed,  will  take 
place?  I  moreover  luuc  the  thing,  but  1  would  like  to  know  what 
I  have  asked?"  The  nephew  answei'cd  in  disgust:  "  ]\'ir'.  \du  know- 
thai  it  is  not  the  custom  that  there  should  lie  a  lot  of  talk  almnt  such 
things  when  one  is  seeking  the  'dream  word"  of  another.""  lie  dicl 
not  give  any  intimation  to  hi-:  uncle  as  to  what  his  dream  had  in<li- 
cated  to  him.  but  he  kept  looking  u])  at  the  sun  to  see  how  near 
midday  it  was.  On  resuming  the  struggle  of  (|Uestionin<r  and  replv- 
ing,  the  uncle  said:  "It  may  be,  jhm'Iuiijs,  that  you  desire  what  I 
I)ri/.e  \ery  highly  -uiy  fetish,  which  is  very  tine  and  with  which  I 
hunt,""  at  the  same  time  showing  it  to  his  neiihew  to  cau.se  him  to 
desire  it.  But  the  nephew  answered  merely:  "No:  that  is  not  what 
my  dream  indicated  to  me.""  It  was  then  nearly  midday.  The  old 
man,  going  to  ami  fro  and  stopping  now  and  then  to  ask  the  (|ues- 
tions,  would  hang  his  head,  saying  to  himself:  "  I  wonder  what  can  be 
the  thing  that  my  nephew  desires."     Addressing  the  vouth,  he  said: 


598  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS        "   [eth.  ann.  32 

"  It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  you  desire  what  I  have  prized  highly, 
too,  for  a  long  time,  namely,  the  otter  fur  which  is  white  in  color? " 
But  the  nephew  replied:  "  No;  that  is  not  what  I  desire  as  answer  to 
the  demand  of  my  dream.'"  Again  looking  up  at  the  sun  to  see  how 
near  midday  it  was,  and  finding  that  it  was  very  near  the  time  for 
tlie  contest  to  close,  the  old  man  said :  "  It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  you 
desire  what,  too,  I  have  prized  and  kept  carefully  in  divers  places, 
namely,  my  marten  fur?  "  The  nephew  impatiently  answered:  "  No; 
that  is  not  what  I  desire  at  all."  At  once  he  began  to  sing,  for  the 
time  was  about  up.  He  said  as  he  sang,  "  Yu'^heii,  yu'^heJi,  he  and  I 
are  bartering  by  exchange;  yu"'hen;  yu'^heii,  S''hogo'^'''gwa'8,  my 
uncle.  yu"-hen.  yu'"hen."  Now  the  uncle  was  moving  around  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  fire.  Suddenly,  after  the  singing  had  com- 
menced flames  burst  up  all  around  the  old  man  with  the  sound 
dain'i,'' /  At  once  he  protested  to  his  nephew,  saying,  ''(to  slow,  go 
slow,  with  that,  oh,  nephew !  "  As  the  time  had  not  quite  expired, 
the  nephew  permitted  the  flames  to  go  down  again,  whereupon  the 
uncle  said,  "  Oh.  my  nephew !  you  have  been  exceedingly  rude  with 
me."  But  the  nephew  replied :  "  I  can  do  nothing  in  this  matter,  for 
this  has  all  been  planned  for  me  in  advance.  So  I  can  do  nothing." 
As  the  time  (midday)  was  soon  to  expire,  the  nephew  again  began 
to  sing  the  song  he  sang  at  first,  "  Yu'^hen,  yu'^hen,  he  and  I  are 
bartering  by  exchange;  yu"'hen,  yu"'hen,  S^hogo"^'gwd''s,  my  uncle, 
yy/'hen,  yu'^heii."  As  before,  flames  at  once  btust  all  around 
the  uncle  as  he  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire.  At  once  he 
exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  nephew  !  do  not  be  so  hard  in  this  thing."  But 
the  youth  again  began  singing:  "The  time  is  now  up.  Yu"'/u'n, 
yu"'hen,  he  and  I  are  bartering  by  exchange;  yu'^hen,  yu'^hen, 
iS''hogo"'''gwa's  yu"'hefi,  yu'^hen,  my  own  uncle,  yu'^heii.  yu"'hen.'''' 
Thereupon  the  old  man  fled  to  the  top  of  his  bed,  on  which  he 
jumped  around  in  an  effort  to  avoid  the  pursuing  flames.  From  that 
s])ot  he  spoke  to  his  nejihew.  saying,  "  Oh  my  nephew !  I  have  now- 
overtaken  your  'dream  word.'  You  indeed  desire — I  have  thought 
so  all  along — what  I  have  planted,  native  squashes  called  djisgonfa', 
which  has  now  its  fruit."  At  once  the  youth  said,  "  AV,  I  am  thank- 
ful for  this  fulfillment  of  what  my  dream  word  re(]nired."  There- 
upon each  resumed  his  seat  in  his  wonted  place,  and  the  uncle  said, 
"  Do  you  know  the  history  of  the  custom  of  '  seeking  for  one's  dream 
word'?"  The  youth  replied,  "Yes,  I  know  it — one  .shall  give  up 
at  once  what  the  dream  has  indicated  when  he  shall  have  divined 
what  it  desires."  The  old  man,  in  an  attempt  to  outwit  his  nephew, 
said.  "It  is  customary  too.  I  know,  for  me  to  make  something  iden- 
tical witli  what  you  demand  as  your  dream  word."  But  the  youth 
coidd  not  lie  moved,  saying.  "Now;  that  is  not  at  all  right."  The 
old  man  persisted,  however,  saying:  "It  is,  nevertheless,  customary 


.?Kw.rr]  LEGENDS  599 

tli;i(  one  sliciiilil  make  :ni  ohjoct  rcM-uililiiiij;  tlie  thing  desired.  So  I 
will  do  this,  and  that,  too.  I  will  give  to  you."  The  youth  did 
not  agive  to  this,  but  aiiswcicd.  "That  is  nut  in  the  remotest  sensi- 
what  the  (IrcMUi  coiiuiiaiKlcd.  tliat  you  should  give  me  sometliing 
artilicial."" 

W'itli  tlifse  woi'ds  till'  yiinth  a;rain  ai-o.si'  and  be^an  to  sing  again, 
"  )'ii'-/iiri.  >/u''/ii'fi,  he  and  1  arc  bartering  by  exchange;  >/u"h('n, 
i/u''h<'n,  tS'ho(/o"''(jiV(T-s  i/u'-lu'h.  iju'^hin.^'  With  a  loud  dnutV !  the 
(lames  once  more  burst  foi'th  around  the  old  man,  and  a  scene  similar 
to  the  f'ormei-  took'  place.  Finally  the  old  tnan  was  forced  to  sui'ren- 
iler,  saying,  "  I  shall  now  give  you  what  your  "  dream  word  '  desiied." 
Thereupon  both  resumed  tlieir  seats.  'I'he  uncle  then  said  to  his 
neiiliew.  ■•  It  is.  indeed,  a  i'act  that  I  li\e  by  it;  so  !iow  I  shall  give 
it  to  you."  ^^'ith  these  words  he  uncovereil  the  plants  by  raising  and 
reuio\  ing  his  beil.  The  nephew  on  his  -ide  was  watching  intently 
what  was  going  on  in  the  a|)artnii'n(  ol  his  uncle.  He  was  surprised 
to  see  planted  there  under  the  l)ed  a  patch  of  sijuashes,  and  he  .saw 
his  uncle  gather  a  s(iuasli.  Covering  the  jilant  again,  he  gave  the 
.s(|uasli  to  his  ncplii'w.  with  the  remark.  "  "^'ou  must  carefully  ]jre- 
-.ei-\e  this  thing."  The  youth  answered:  '"So  be  it.  Now.  the  matter 
which   was  at  issue  has  been  setfleil." 

.Vi'tcr  making  his  usual  iireparatioiis  the  nephew  went  to  the  place 
where  his  other  uncle's  skull  protruded  out  of  the  ground.  When  he 
arrived  there  the  skull  said  to  him,  "' A\'ell,  what  happened T'  The 
ni'phew  answered,  "  Kverything  that  you  said  came  to  pass  just 
right,  and  I  have  brought  here  what  he  gave  u])  t(j  me."  Drawing 
it  forth,  he  showed  it  to  his  uncle,  wlio  said:  "That  thing,  in  fact,  is 
what  1  meant.  There  is  still  another  thing.  It  is  a  fact  that  a  sister 
of  yours  is  there  too,  inclo.sed  in  a  bark  case  wdiich  is  set  up  uniler 
his  bed  whereon  he  is  accustomed  to  lie  down — under  your  uncle's 
bed.  Tliat,  also,  yoii  can  remeily  by  oxei'coming  him  in  this  matter; 
so  you  niu.st  set  your  desiic  on  this  thing.  This  must  be  what  your 
"dream  word'  shall  commanil  you  to  obtain  for  your  health  and 
welfare.  So  i-eturn  home  at  oiiec  and  make  the  neces.sary  prepara- 
tions foi-  ha\  ing  anothei-  great  lire  tonight,  "i On  must  collect  large 
logs  and  place  them  on  the  fire.  Hasten  and  do  not  permit  him  to 
be  (flicker  than  you  arc.  He  bi-axc.  ila\c  no  pity  on  him.  for  hi' 
will  oxermatch  your  oicnda  (magii-  ])ower)  if  you  fail  tn  exert  it 
to  the  utmost." 

The  youth  hastencil  baric.  I  la  \  ing  ;iri-i\t'd  in  the  lodge,  he  said 
to  his  uncle,  "Now  1  think  I  will  again  kindle  a  good  lire,  because 
we  may  be  going  to  have  a  very  cold  night."  So.  gathering  together 
a  number  of  logs  and  large  ])ieces  of  dry  wood,  he  placed  them  in 
a  pile,  and  with  smaller  pieces  of  wtiod  he  kindled  a  great  lire  foi" 
the  niirlit. 


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

Night  having  come,  the  two  retired  to  rest,  each  on  his  own  side 
of  the  fire.  About  midnight  the  youth  again  began  to  moan  and 
groan  loudh',  and  the  moaning  became  louder  and  louder.  In  a 
short  time  he  got  off  his  bed  and  crawled  around  on  his  hands  and 
knees.  Next,  without  further  warning,  he  threw  himself  on  the  fire, 
scattering  the  firebrands  over  the  place  where  lay  his  uncle,  who  at 
once  arose,  saying,  "What  has  happened?"  Taking  down  his  war 
club  and  seeing  the  head  of  his  nephew  clo.se  to  him.  he  .struck  it  a 
blow  with  the  club,  which  resounded  with  a  very  loud  ha" !  As  he. 
raised  the  club  for  a  second  blow,  the  youth  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my 
uncle !  it  has  now  ceased,"  whereupon  the  uncle  addressed  him,  say- 
ing, "  AMiat  is  causing  you  to  see  visions?"  His  nephew  replied, 
"  What  it  commanded  me  to  do  is  baleful  unto  death  if  not  fulfilled." 
The  uncle  asked  further,  "What  did  it  command  you  to  do?"  The 
nephew  answered:  "  The  thing  it  conuiianded  is  that  you  shall  again 
'  seek  to  divine  the  word  of  my  dream '  tomorrow ;  and  if  you  shall 
not  have  divined  the  'word  of  my  dream'  before  the  sun  shall  have 
reached  the  zenith  evil  shall  befall  your  person."  The  old  man 
mockingly  retorted,  "  Let  it  be  so,"  drawing  out  the  expression. 
Thereupon  they  both  returned  to  their  beds,  on  which  they  again  lay 
down  for  the  rest  of  the  night. 

The  next  morning  the  youth  arose,  and  after  making  his  usual 
morning  preparations,  said  to  his  uncle,  "  The  time  has  now  ar- 
rived for  what  I  have  been  commanded  to  do;  so  let  us  begin." 
As  before,  the  uncle  mockingly  said,  "  So  let  it  be,"  once  more 
drawing  out  the  expression  to  indicate  his  contempt  for  his  nephew. 

After  a  moment  of  silence  the  old  man  said,  "  Oh,  my  nephew  !  you 
will  just  give  a  small  clue  to  the  'word  of  your  dream.'"  His 
nephew  replied,  "  You  know  that  is  not  the  custom  on  such  occasions, 
for  the  reason  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  make  '  seeking  the  word 
of  a  dream '  a  test  if  one  should  furnish  a  clue.  Come,  then,  let  us 
begin."  This  he  said  with  some  impatience,  knowing  full  well  that 
the  uncle  was  onl}'  seeking  to  cause  him  to  make  some  error  in  the 
test. 

So  the  old  man  began  by  asking.  "  Perhaps  you  may  mean  in 
your  desire,  suggested  by  the  '  word  of  the  dream,'  the  flesh  of  the 
moose?  "  But  the  j'outh  replied.  "No;  that  is  not  what  is  desired." 
The  old  man  asked  again,  "  Perhaps  you  mean  in  your  desire,  sug- 
gested by  the  '  word  of  the  dream,'  the  flesh  of  the  bear  ?  "  And  the 
youth  answered.  "  No ;  that  is  not  what  is  desired."  The  uncle  once 
more  asked,  "  Perhaps  you  may  mean  in  your  desire,  suggested  by 
the  'word  of  the  dream,'  the  flesh  of  the  raccoon?  "  But  the  youth 
answered,  "No;  that  is  not  what  is  desired."  Then  the  uncle  asked 
the  same  question  regarding  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  the  turkey,  the 
fat  entrails  of  the  bear,  the  liver  of  the  bear,  and  various  other 


u7y^'^]  LEGENDS  601 

substances,  receiving  from  his  nephew  in  each  instance  a  negative 
answer.  Finally,  he  asked,  in  an  attempt  to  throw  the  youth  off 
of  his  guard,  "Oh,  my  nephew  I  what  can  you  mean?  What  is  it 
you  desire?"  Hut  the  youth,  alert  and  crafty,  replied,  '"Pshaw! 
are  you  not  seeking  to  divine  the  'word  of  my  dream.'  and  still 
you  want  me  to  give  you  a  clue  to  it?"'  The  old  man  replied. 
"But  I  have  now  nain(>(l  all  the  things  tiiat  I  own."  He  kept 
walking  up  and  down  in  his  own  part  of  liie  lodge.  Again  the 
time  was  nearly  up — it  was  almost  midday.  So  the  old  man  said. 
"Well,  so  be  it;  perhaps  you  may  mean  in  your  desire,  suggested 
by  the  'word  of  the  dream,'  my  leggings?"  Ilis  nejihew  answered, 
"No:  tluit  is  not  what  is  desired."  Once  more  the  uncle  suggested, 
"My  breechclout?  "  The  nephew  answered  as  before.  "Ts'o;  that 
is  not  what  is  desired.'"  Then  the  old  mail,  seeking  to  gain  time, 
remai'ked,  "I  am  wondering.  Oh,  my  nephew!  wjiat  it  is  that  you 
desire  ?  " 

Then  the  nephew,  becoming  wearied  with  the  dilatory  tactics  of 
his  uncle,  began  to  sing,  as  before,  "J'M''Ae«,  yu"'hen,  he  and  I  are 
bartering  by  exx-hange;  yu"'hefi,  yw"Ae/T.,  S^kogo"^'ffiv(Vs  yu"'h/'ii., 
yu''luri.  he  is  my  uncle,  yu''hcn.  yu'^hen.''''  Again  the  flames  burst 
up  out  of  the  ground  all  around  the  place  wheiv  the  uiulc  was  stand- 
ing, with  the  sound  dautV.  Thereupon  tiie  old  man  exclaimed.  "  Oh, 
my  nephew!  do  not  be  too  hasty  with  that  thing."  As  the  time  had 
not  yet  fully  arrived  to  end  this  test,  the  youth  willed  that  the 
flames  subside,  and  with  the  sound  daiiiT'  they  quickly  subsided. 

Then  the  old  man  resumed  his  questions,  saying  "  Perhaps  you  may 
mean  in  your  desire,  suggested  by  the  '  word  of  the  dream.'  my  otter- 
skin  robe?  "  The  nephew  replied,  "  No;  that  is  not  w-hat  is  desired." 
Ne.\t  the  (jUI  man 'named  '"my  bow  aTul  arrows,  which  I  so  dearly 
prize?  " 

The  nephew,  riadjis'dodo',  was  walking  to  and  fro  in  his  own 
part  of  the  lodge.  looking  every  now  and  then  to  see  whether  the 
sun  had  reached  the  meridian,  for  he  knew  well  that  the  time  was 
almost  U[).  I'"inally.  td  test  the  endurance  of  the  old  man.  he  again 
began  to  sing,  using  the  words  of  the  song  for  this  kin<l  of  a  cere- 
mony:  "}'w"Ar/7.  ?/m"/(("/7.  he  and  I  are  bartering  by  exchange; 
yn''hh'i.  yu''h(n.  S-/iof/o"''f/ird\<s  yu"'hin,  yu''h('i'i.  and  he  is  my  uncle, 
yu''h(ii.  yu'^h<')'i.^' 

With  a  loud  daitil''  i\\v  llauies  again  burst  forth  fi-om  the  ground 
all  around  the  old  man.  who  now  climl)e(l  up  the  bai'k  wall  of  the 
lodge  to  escape  them,  at  the  same  time  crying  out.  "  Oh.  my  nephew  ! 
do  not  be  too  hasty  with  that  thing."  Knowing  his  masterv  of  the 
old  man.  the  youth  willed  once  more  that  the  flames  should  subside, 
and  they  did  so.  Wliereui)ou  the  old  man  descended  from  his  plac-e 
of  refuge  on  the  bark  wall. 


602  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

The  old  man  said  to  his  nephew,  "At  no  time  must  you  lay  the 
heavy  hand  of  punishment  on  me;  "  but  he  would  not  admit  defeat. 
The  youth  answered,  '"  The  time  is  now  nearly  up,  and  I  can  not 
change  in  any  manner  the  command  given  me  by  the  dream."  With 
these  words  he  again  began  to  walk  to  and  fro,  singing  his  wonted 
song,  at  which  the  Hames  burst  forth  once  more  from  the  ground  all 
around  the  place  in  which  the  old  man  moved,  burning  his  liair  and 
even  his  eyelashes. 

At  this  moment  the  old  man  cried  cut,  "I  have  now  divined  the 
'  word  of  your  dream.'  I  have  thought  all  along  that  perhaps  what 
you  desired  is  the  small  woman  in  a  bark  case  standing  under  the  bed 
whereon  I  usually  rest.  She  is,  indeed,  veiy  small.  That  is,  per- 
haps, what  you  desire?  "  The  youth  replied:  "I  am  thankful.  Set 
her  in  the  place  where  people  usually  sit  in  the  lodge."  For  answer 
the  old  man  said:  "You  would  agree,  perhaps,  that  I  make  a  bark 
case,  a  very  small  one,  and  also  make  a  small  doll  which  I  should 
fasten  in  the  bark  case.  This  is  just  the  way  they  do  when  they 
'  divine  the  dream  word  '  "*  of  anyone." 

Combating  his  uncle's  attempt  to  have  the  command  of  the  dream 
changed  and  therefore  made  entirely  void,  the  nephew  said  to  him, 
"  The  dream  did  not  tell  me  that  the  command  should  be  carried  out 
by  means  of  an  artificial  thing."  At  this  he  again  began  to  walk  to 
and  fro  in  his  own  part  of  the  lodge,  singing,  as  before,  the  potent 
song,  which  caused  the  flames  again  to  burst  out  of  the  ground  and 
completely  cover  the  old  man.  Siiogo""gwa's,  as  he  sat  on  his  bed. 
At  once  he  exclaimed,  "I  wiU  now  give  up  what  you  desire."  The 
flames  went  down  with  a  roar. 

Still  attempting  to  thwart  his  nephew  by  sly  cunningness,  the  old 
man  said :  "  It  is  the  custom  to  make  something  resembling  that 
which  the  '  word  of  the  dream '  coumianded  to  be  produced  and 
which  customarily  is  given  to  the  one  who  has  dreamed;  and  it  is 
now  my  purpose  to  make  a  bark  ca.se  resembling  the  one  which  is 
lying  under  my  bed,  and  in  which  shall  be  the  representation  of  a 
woman.  I  shall  make  it  fine  and  beautiful.  I  will  give  it  to  you." 
The  youtli  replied:  "You  know  that  now  tiie  time  is  up  for  you  to 
do  your  part,  and  yet  you  delay,  although  you  have  asked  me  not  to 
be  too  heavy  handed  with  you.  So  at  once  give  me  what  is  required 
by  the  '  word  of  the  dream.'  " 

Seeing  that  it  was  of  no  use  trying  to  outwit  his  nephew,  the  uncle 
went  over  to  his  i)ed  and,  raising  it  up  on  one  side,  drew  from  under 
it  a  small  bark  case,  in  which  was  the  small  woman.  She  was  indeed 
very  small.  As  he  drew  her  forth  sJie  was  winking  her  eyes,  and  as 
she  saw  her  brother  she  smiled  pleasantly.  The  old  man  gave  the 
case  to  his  nephew  without  further  resistance.  Then  the  youth  pre- 
fiared  her  to  take  her  away.     It  w/as  very  cold,  being  winter,  so  he 


Cl'RTI 
HBWITT. 


^']  LEGENDS  603 


wrapped  her  up  in  furs  in  a  close  bundle  and  replaced  her  in  the 
burii  rase,  which  he  cai'ried  on  his  shoulder  out  of  the  lodtre. 

The  youth  directed  his  coui'se  toward  the  place  where  the  skull  of 
his  other  uncle  protruded  out  of  the  ori-ouiul.  He  arrived  there 
bearing  on  his  shoulder  the  case  of  bark.  His  mysterious  uncle  said 
to  hiui,  "  Well,  nephew,  what  has  happened  since  you  were  here  the 
last  time  ^  "  'I'lie  ne]ihew  rejiliexl.  '•  Kverythin<r  you  said  has  come 
to  i)ass  as  you  desired."  The  uncle  answered  :  "  Now  it  is  your  other 
uncle's  turn  to  kindle  the  fii-e.  and  he  is  trathering  the  necessary  fuel 
for  it.  This  is  what  your  uncle  is  now  doing.  So  perhaps  you  will  re- 
turn there  never  to  come  hack  here  alive.  A\'hen  you  reach  your  lodge 
he  will  have  conijijeted  his  ])repai-ations.  and  the  fire  too  will  be  a 
great  one.  It  shall  be  your  duty  to  watch  him  carefully  during  the 
night.  Just  at  your  back — beliind  you — shall  stan<l  tiie  case  of  bark 
containing  your  sister.  At  midnight  your  uncle  will  be  suddenly 
roused  again.  T  know,  by  an  e\il  dream,  and  will  again  scatter  the 
firebrands  in  all  directions.  Some  will  fall  over  your  bed.  and  so  you 
must  be  up  and  out  of  the  way.  At  the  iirst  symptoms  of  his  dream 
you  must  lea|)  up  ami.  going  over  to  the  ojiposite  side  of  the  fire,  you 
must  take  down  his  war  club  and  strike  him  a  blow  with  it:  then 
at  once  raise  it  for  a  second  blow.  ^\'hen  he  shall  say,  '  Now  it  h:is 
ceased,'  you  must  ask.  '  A\'liat  thing  is  causing  you  to  see  marvels?' 
Then  he  will  answer,  'The  thing  that  the  dream  has  commanded 
me  is  baleful  and  diniciiit  of  accomplishment.'" 

The  nephew  asked,  "Well,  what  did  the  dream  command  you  to 
do?"  The  uncle  replied.  '"It  said  that  when  daylight  came  again  I 
must  haul  you  around  in  a  sledge  made  of  green,  fresh-peeled  haik. 
ten  times  around  this  lodge,  and  that  you  must  be  entirely  naked. 
You  know  that  this  lodge  is  very  long.  It  said  also  that  something 
evil  would  befall  you,  should  you,  my  nephew,  fail  to  see  that  this 
desire  is  carried  out  as  the  dream  has  declared  it." 

The  nephew.  Gadjis'dodo'.  answered,  "  Let  it  be  so."  The  two 
thereupon  retiii'iied  to  their  respective  beds,  and  there  they  lay  down 
to  rest  and  sleep. 

Very  early  the  next  morning  S'hogo""gwa's  arose,  saying  to  his 
ne]iliew,  "Oh,  my  nephew!  I  am  now  going  to  fetch  the  bariv  sledge 
required  for  our  purpose."  To  this  the  youth  Gadjis'dodo'  replied, 
"  So  be  it."  The  old  man  went  out.  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  re- 
entered the  lodge,  saying,  "I  have  now  completed  my  i)reparations 
out  of  doors:  now  we  two  will  go  out  there."  They  went  foi-lh.  and 
the  old  man  at  once  iiegan  to  wraji  the  youth  in  the  newly  stri])])e<l 
bark  which  he  had  pre[)ared  for  the  purpose  and  to  bind  him  very 
closely  with  bark  cords.  After  coming  out  of  the  lodge  the  old  man 
had  said,  "Now  undress  yourself  fully."  and  there  in  front  of  the 
doorway  the  youth  undressed  him.self.    There  stood  the  bark  sledge. 


COl  SENECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ak.v.  32 

On  coming  out  the  old  man  had  told  him,  "  You  must  lie  down  upon 
this  thing."  It  was  winter  and  very,  very  cold.  The  wind  was 
severe,  and  the  snow  was  blustering.  When  the  youth  lay  down 
on  the  bark  sledge  the  old  man  wrapped  him  up  with  the  bark 
sides  and  tied  liim  therein  securely,  saying  as  he  did  so,  "  I  am  doing 
this  lest  you  sln)uld  fall  when  I  start  to  run."'  Finally  he  said,  "  Oh, 
my  nephew  !  I  am  now  ready."  The  nephew,  Gadjis'dodo'.  answered, 
"  80  be  it." 

Next  the  old  man  drew  a  starting  line  and  began  drawing  the 
sledge  around  the  lodge  very  swiftly.  While  running,  the  old  man 
sang:  "I  am  dragging  him  in  a  sledge.  I  am  dragging  him  in  a 
sledge.  I  am  dragging  him  in  a  sledge.  He  is  Gadjis'dodo',  you  who 
ai-e  a  nephew.  I  am  dragging  him  in  a  sledge.  I  am  dragging  him 
in  a  sledge."  etc.  Having  gone  around  the  lodge  once  and  having 
returned  to  the  doorway  of  the  lodge.  S'hogo""gwiVs  said,  "  Oh,  my 
nephew!  are  you  alive?"  Gadjis'dodo'  answered.  "I  am  alive." 
At  this  the  old  man  said.  "  This  is  once  around,"  and  started  again 
drawing  the  sledge  around  the  lodge,  singing,  as  before,  while  he  ran. 

Having  gone  around  the  lodge  a  second  time,  the  old  man  said, 
"Oh.  my  nephew  I  are  you  alive?"  The  nephew  replied.  ''■/Jo',  I 
am  alive."  Saying.  "  This  is  the  second  time,"  the  uncle  again 
started  around  the  lodge.  The  weather  was  indeed  very  cold,  and  no 
one  who  was  entiroh'  naked  could  po.ssibly  live  in  weather  so  severe 
(except  he  be  a  very  great  sorcerer). 

Having  returned  to  the  doorway  of  the  lodge,  the  old  man  again 
asked.  "  Oh.  my  nephew !  are  you  alive  ?  "  and  the  youth  replied 
as  before,  "Yes;  I  am  alive."  Every  time  the  old  man  started  to 
drag  the  sledge  he  began  singing  the  same  song  with  the  same 
words.  Thus  they  made  a  circuit  of  the  lodge  nine  times,  when 
the  youth  in  his  reply  to  his  uncle's  usual  question  pretended  to 
be  nearly  dead,  answering  in  a  very  feeble  voice,  that  he  was  still 
alive.  To  this  his  uncle  exultingly  rejoined,  "'(?«'' A<??i.'"  meaning 
by  this  exclamation,  "  I  thought  you  would  not  last."  So  the  old 
man  gleefully  started  dragging  the  sledge  around  the  lodge  again, 
and  he  sang  the  same  song  with  the  same  words.  When  they  had 
returned  to  the  doorway  of  the  lodge  they  had  completed  the  tenth 
circuit  of  the  lodge,  as  decreed  by  the  old  man's  '  dream  word.' 
Again  the  old  man  asked.  "Oh.  my  nephew!  are  you  still  alive?" 
With  a  strong  voice  the  nephew  answered,  "I  am  alive."  To  this 
the  old  man  rejoined  in  surprise,  Wu^'f  (an  exclamation  of  w-onder). 

Then  the  old  man  proceeded  to  unfasten  the  youth  from  the 
sledge  and  from  the  bark  wrappings  with  which  he  had  so  closely 
secured  him.  ostensibly  to  keep  him  from  falling  off  the  sledge.  As 
they  two  reentered  the  lodge  the  old  man  said.  '"Oh,  my  nephew! 
now  that  which  was  commanded  me  by  the  dream  has  been  fulfilled." 


S",!?7,rr]  LEGENDS  605 

Tiie  nepliew  replied.  "  So  be  it,"  .uul  taking  up  tiie  bark  case  in  whicii 
was  his  sister,  he  placed  it  on  his  back,  carrying  it  by  means  of  the 
forehead  strap.  lie  tiien  went  directly  to  tlie  phice  where  his  uncle's 
skull  protruded  from  the  ground.  When  he  arrived  there  bearing 
his  sister  on  his  back,  his  uncle  of  the  skull  asked  bini.  "  Well,  my 
nejihew,  how  have  things  gone?  "  The  nephew  re])lied,  "  Everything 
that  you  advised  me  to  do  has  been  satisfactorily  accomplished." 
Thereupon  the  uncle  said  to  liiui:  "  \'()u  nni.st  hasten  back  to  the 
lodge,  for  it  is  now  your  turn  to  kindle  a  great  fire.  You  must 
say  to  your  uncle,  'I  am  gathering  wood  and  fuel  to  build  a  great 
fire,  for  I  think  that  tonight  we  shall  have  a  very  cold  night.'  .\nd 
tonight  about  midnight  you  must  dream  and  groan;  then,  (piickly 
arising,  grope  on  your  hantls  and  knees,  and  finally  cast  yourself 
on  the  fire,  scattering  the  lirebi'ands  in  all  dii'ections,  especially 
toward  the  bed  on  which  your  uncle  lies.  When  he  arises  and  strikes 
you  a  blow  on  the  head  witli  his  war  club,  you  mu.st  quickly  say,  '  It 
has  now  ceased,"  for  he  will  raise  the  club  at  once  to  strike  a  second 
blow.  IIo  will  then  ask  you,  'What  is  it  that  is  causing  you  to  see 
marvels^'  You  must  answer,  'Compliance  with  what  my  dream 
has  commanded  me  is  most  difficult,  and  the  command  is  accom- 
panied with  evil  portent.'  AVhen  he  asks  you,  '  What  did  it  com- 
mand you  to  do?'  you  must  say,  'It  commanded  me  to  draw  you, 
my  uncle,  in  a  baik  sledge  10  times  around  this  lodge,  and  to  re<|iiire 
you  to  be  naked,  entirely  so."  This  is  what  you  shall  tell  him  when 
he  asks  what  you  have  dreamed."  The  youth  re]ilied,  '"So  let  it  i)e." 
Continuing  his  advice,  the  uncle  said:  "You  must  carefully  guard 
the  person  of  your  sister.  Be  bi-ave  and  do  not  waver:  do  not  agree 
to  his  proposal  that  he  may  not  undergo  the  test  entirely  naked, 
claiming  this  exemption  on  account  of  his  great  age.  This  is  what 
he  will  .say,  but  do  not  con.sent  to  this  ])roposition.  Now  hasten 
back  to  the  lodge." 

Having  returned  t(i  the  lodge,  tiie  youth  s;iid  to  liis  uncle.  "  It 
IS  my  turn  to  kindle  the  fire  today,  for  we  shall  have  a  very  cold  and 
stormy  night."  The  uncle  merely  said.  "  T  will  care  for  your  sister, 
of  course,  for  it  is  very  coltl.""  Hut  the  youth  replied.  "Carrying 
her  along  with  me  will  in  no  wise  interfere  with  what  I  am  about 
to  do."  So.  cai-rying  his  sister  on  his  back  by  means  of  the  forehead 
strap,  he  went  forth  to  gather  wood.  He  kindled  a  great  tire  for 
the  night  and  tlid  not  leave  his  sister  alone  for  a  single  moment. 

When  night  came,  they  all  retii'ed  to  their  beds.  The  sister  of  the 
youth  remained  in  the  bark  case,  which  the  youth  placed  between 
himself  and  the  bark  wall  of  the  lodge.  About  midnight  he  bog;in 
to  groan  and  moan  and  utter  incoherent  words.  Then,  having  aiisen. 
groped  around  on  his  knees,  and  finally  cast  himself  into  the  fire, 
scattering  the  firebrands  in  all  directions,  especially  over  \.\u-  luil  of 


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

his  unelo.  Thereupon  the  old  man  leaped  up.  and  seizing  his  war 
club,  went  across  the  lodge  and  struck  the  youth  a  blow  on  the  head, 
at  tlie  same  time  asking,  "  What  is  it  that  is  causing  you  to  see 
marvels  r"  The  youth  (juickly  answered  :  '' It  has  now  ceased.  Com- 
pliance with  what  my  dream  commanded  mc  is  most  difficult,  and 
the  command  is  accompanied  with  an  evil  portent."'  The  uncle  at 
once  asked,  "What  did  it  command  you  to  do?"  The  youth  an- 
swered, '•  It  commanded  me  to  drag  you,  my  uncle,  in  a  bark  sledge 
10  times  around  this  lodge  very  early  tomorrow  morning.  The  evil 
portent  is  that  if  this  be  not  accomplished  before  midday  some  great 
calamity  shall  befall  your  person."  The  uncle  merely  replied,  "  So  let 
it  be."'     Then  they  retired  to  their  respective  beds. 

Very  early  the  next  morning  the  youth,  Gadjis'dodo',  arose  and 
said  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Oh,  my  uncle !  I  am  now  going  after  the 
bai'k  sledge.''  The  uncle  answered,  "So  be  it:  it  is  well."  The 
youth  went  out,  and  soon  returning  to  the  doorway,  said,  "  Oh,  my 
uncle  I  I  am  now  ready ;  let  us  go  out  and  begin  at  once."  With 
these  words  he  laid  his  bark  sledge  down  in  front  of  the  doorway. 
When  his  uncle  came  out  the  youth  said,  "  You  must  undress  your- 
self." But  the  old  man  said,  "Just  let  me  remain  dressed,  for  I  am 
so  very  old."  His  nephew,  Gadjis'dodo".  replied  :  "  I  did  not  say  that. 
So  come,  undress  yourself."  And  he  began  at  once  to  undress  the 
old  man.  When  the  old  man  was  undressed  he  lay  down  on  the 
bark  sledge,  and  the  youth  quickly  bound  him  fast  to  it  with  bark 
cords.  The  old  man  kept  saying.  "  You  are  binding  me  too  closely; 
you  have  made  the  cords  too  taut."  But  his  nephew  replied,  "  Oh ! 
I  am  a  swift  runner,  you  know,  and  I  fear  that  you  may  fall  off. 
Oh  I  uncle.  I  am  now  ready." 

Then  the  nephew  started  dragging  the  sledge  very  swiftly  around 
the  lodge,  singing  as  he  ran.  "  I  am  dragging  him  on  a  bark  sledge, 
I  am  dragging  him  on  a  bark  sledge;  S"hogo'"'gwas,  who  is  my 
uncle,  I  am.  dragging  him  on  a  bark  sledge;  I  am  dragging  him 
on  a  bark  sledge."  The  uncle  kept  saying,  "Oh.  my  nephew!  the 
sledge  is  now  going  too  fast."  The  youth  did  not  slacken  his  terrific 
pace,  however,  and  the  sledge  at  times  turned  over  and  over.  Mean- 
wliile  the  old  man  kept  saying,  "  Oh,  my  nephew  !  do  not  be  so  rude 
in  this  matter;  it  is  going  too  fast."  But  the  youth  only  answered, 
"  That  is,  however,  my  speed."  When  they  got  back  to  the  doorway 
the  youth  asked,  "Oh,  my  uncle!  are  you  alive?"  The  uncle  an- 
swered, "  I  am  alive."  At  this  the  youth  at  once  started  on  the  run, 
singing  the  same  song  as  that  he  used  on  the  first  trip. 

It  now  came  to  pass  that  all  the  gi'eat  sorcerers  aiul  past  masters 
in  wizard  craft  who  dwelt  on  the  borders  of  the  land  of  this  old  man 
said,  "  He  has  now  overmatched  his  orenda,  or  magic  power,"  mean- 


;™7;V]  LEGENDS  607 

inp  that  tlie  youth  liail  ()v<'rc()nu'  the  orciuhi  of  lils  uncle.  Tlins  spake 
the  <rreat  wi/.anls. 

Ilavin^f  I'cturncd  the  nintli  liiiic  to  tlie  doorway,  the  ohl  man's 
iK'plu'w  asked  ajraiii.  "•  Lo,  my  uiu-li'  I  are  you  still  alive  f  Keceiving 
no  re|)ly.  lie  looked  down  on  the  ui)turned  face  and  ^a\\  that  his 
uncle's  eyes  were  fiozen  hard.  Thereupon,  he  e.xclainied.  "Now,  Oh, 
my  uncle!  you  will  enjoy  the  hark  sledfre."  and  without  any  hesita- 
tion he  started  on  the  tenth  circuit.  Kxcrtinii-  all  his  sliced  and 
strenirth,  he  >i)ed  to  the  end  of  the  lodiie,  the  sled<j;e  flying  high  in 
the  air  with  the  great  speed,  turning  o\cr  and  o\ei'  in  its  course. 
Tui-ning  away  from  the  lodge,  the  yoiuh  wiih  a  mighty  etl'cwt  swung 
the  sledge  far  ofl'  to  one  side  and  let  it  strike  the  ground,  where  he 
left  it.  It  was  so  cold  that  when  the  sledge  .struck  the  ground  there 
was  only  a  crackling  of  ice. 

Then  the  youth,  (iadjis'dodo',  retui'ued  to  the  lodge  in  which  his 
sister  was  still  fastened  in  her  case  of  hark.  "When  she  saw  her 
brother  entering  the  lodge  she  smiled,  and  said,  "t)!!,  my  elder 
brothel' I  T  am  thankful  that  we  both  arc  still  ali\e.  luning  gone 
through  what  we  have.'"  The  lirother.  taking  up  the  liai'k  case, 
placed  it  on  his  hack,  carrying  it  with  the  forehead  stia]).  Then 
the  two  went  to  the  place  whcie  their  cither  inicle"s  skull  protiaided 
from  the  ground. 

Having  arrixcd  there,  this  uncle  said.  ■"Well,  my  neiihew,  what 
came  to  i)ass^"'  (iadjis'dodo"  re])lied  :  ■"  \'crily,  1  ha\c  oxcrcome  his 
orenda — the  evil  potency  of  my  old  uncle,  who  is  now  no  more.  Let 
Us  all  go  back  to  the  lodge."  Keai'hing  tlown,  he  drew  his  uncle  up 
and  caused  him  to  stand,  and  he  stroketl  his  body  in  ordei'  to  restore 
his  flesh,  which  had  been  withered  by  the  magic  ])ower  of  his  evil- 
minded  brother.  \\'hen  he  had  accouiplished  this  task,  the  youth 
said,  ■■  Now  let  us  return  to  the  lodge." 

Having  arrived  there,  the  youth  unbound  his  sister  and  disengaged 
hei'  from  the  bark  ca.se.  Then  he  stroked  her  bodv  to  restore  it  to 
its  normal  size — to  the  size  of  a  normal  woman.  ^Vhen  this  task  was 
accomplished  Gadji.s'dodo'  said:  "  ^^'e  now  are  again  united  in  our 
full  number.  We  shall  remain  here  in  our  lodge  in  ]ieace  and  con- 
tentment, foi-  he  who  was  in  his  time  a  mighty  sorcerer  has  de- 
phrted." 

There,  in  that  lodge,  they  dwell  to  this  day.  This  is  the  end  of 
the  legend  of  (iadjis'dodo'  and  .'^■hogo""'gw  a's. 

ll'K  TiiK  Lkoknu  or  Dkodyatcacwin 

In  the  long  ago,  in  the  times  of  the  elder  jieople.  there  lived  in  the 
land  toward  the  place  of  sunri.se  a  wonderful  tribe  of  human  being.s. 
at  a  place  called  I)yolmyc'.\anen   (at  the  (Jreat  Lowland). 


608  SENECA   FICnON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.32 

It  SO  happened  that  one  of  the  yoiiii!?  men  dwelling  there  resolved 
to  make  an  expedition  into  the  distant  ^^'est.  into  the  i-egion  through 
which  lay  the  path  of  the  sun.  Tlie  name  of  this  young  man  was 
Dehaenhyowens  (He-Who-Cleaves-the-Sky-in-Twain).*'"  To  pro- 
mote his  design,  he  persuaded  his  friends  to  prepare  a  great  feast,  to 
which  all  the  people  shoidd  he  bidden  and  at  which,  as  was  the  custom 
of  the  country,  he  should  announce  to  the  public  his  pur])ose  of 
making  an  expedition  into  the  West  to  the  end  of  the  earth,  in  order 
to  slaughter  unknown  men  and  to  obtain  the  scalps  of  the  alien 
peoples  whom  he  might  encounter,  since  the  scalps  would  serve  as 
tokens  of  the  victors'  prowess  and  craft  in  warfare. 

The  feast  having  been  prepared,  the  people  were  l)idden  to  it. 
When  they  had  all  gathered  together  in  their  ganonses  (long  lodge  of 
public'  assembly),  and  while  they  were  enjoying  the  good  things 
provided  for  their  entertainment  the  host,  Dehaenhyowens,  arose  to 
make  the  speech  in  which  he  announced  his  purpose  with  respect  to 
the  expedition,  at  the  same  time  calling  for  volunteers  from  among 
the  young  men  to  accompany  him  and  share  his  fortunes.  He  asked 
only  for  young  men,  those  who  had  just  arrived  at  manhood  (at 
the  age  of  puberty).  Further,  he  informed  those  who  might  volun- 
teer to  accompany  him  that  they  would  have  to  renounce  their  lives, 
their  kith  and  kin;  that  they  must  agree  on  adherence  to  a  unanimity 
of  purpose  and  to  continue  their  journey  forward  no  matter  what 
kind  of  obstacles  might  present  themselves;  that  his  own  brother, 
Gaenhyakdondye  (Along-the-Side-of-the-Sky).  had  already  volun- 
teered to  go  with  him;  and  that  they  two  in  the  capacity  of  war 
chiefs  would  lead  the  party  should  one  be  formed.  Beside  the  two 
brothers  28  others  volunteered  to  share  the  lot  of  the  two  reckless 
adventurers.  So  Dehaenhyowens  ajipointed  a  time  to  start  and  a 
rendezvous  for  the  party,  earnestly  urging  all  to  be  prepared  to 
depart  at  the  appointed  time. 

When  the  day  arrived.  Dehaenhyowens  notified  by  a  messenger 
all  the  volunteers,  who  eagerly  presented  themselves  at  the  rendez- 
vous. When  they  had  completed  all  their  pi-eparations,  they  set  out, 
directing  their  course  toward  the  place  of  the  sunset. 

As  these  warriors  traveled  on  thev  finally  came  to  a  place  in  which 
they  found  the  habitations  of  a  people  whom  they  did  not  know. 
These  unoffending  people  they  ruthlessly  killed  and  scalped,  and 
after  this  bloody  exploit  they  continued  their  journey  toward  the 
\\'est. 

Having  jdiinieyed  a  short  distance  farther,  they  suddenly  came  to 
the  settlement  of  another  people.  At  the  dawn  they  attacked  these 
people,  slaying  all  the  males  who  did  not  escape  in  the  darkness,  and, 
having  scalped  the  slain,  they  passed  on,  still  following  the  course 
of  the  sun. 


Z1^;.^;]  LEGENDS  609 

A  day's  joiiriioy  fartlior  on  tlicv  came  to  the  dwelling  place  of  a 
third  i)eo|)lc.  whoiii  they  dealt  witii  as  before.  Next  niornin<^  they 
resumed  their  march.  They  repeated  their  bloody  exploits  wherever 
they  found  a  village  on  the  line  of  their  march,  continuing  this  slaugh- 
ter for  miiiiy  moons. 

After  pursuing  this  course  f(jr  a  lung  time,  the  packs  of  scaljjs  which 
they  carried  on  llieir  backs  becrame  so  heavy  as  to  be  bui'densome. 
Of  course,  a  number  of  the  tiand  had  been  killed  by  the  people  whom 
they  had  attacked,  so  it  now  happened  that  those  who  remained 
began  to  complain  of  the  weight  of  the  scalps.  One  and  all  said, 
"  It  seems  advisable  that  we  should  now  leave  our  packs  of  scalps 
hei-e  in  some  out  of  the  waj'  place  for  safekeeping."  Finally  their 
chief,  Dehaenhj-owens,  said :  "  It  is  probable  also  that  we  may  now 
see  what  we  are  seeking — the  scal[)  of  all  scalps.  This  we  could 
u.se  to  cover  all  we  have.  Moreover,  the  kind  of  thing(s)  which  we 
bring  with  us  would  not  spoil." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  they  fell  in  with  a  man  so  tall  that 
one-half  the  height  of  the  tallest  trees  was  the  measure  of  his  tower- 
ing stature.  Then  it  was  that  (iaenhyakdondye  (Along  the-Edge-of- 
the-Sky.  i.  e.,  the  Horizon)  said:  "Our  good  fortune  has  brought 
about  the  accomplishment  of  the  purpose  of  our  exj)edition  upf)n 
which  we  had  agreed — namely,  that  we  should  see  in  our  hands  a 
large  quantity  of  scalps.  I  thiidf  the  next  thing  to  be  done  is  to 
resolve  to  kill  this  man,  wiiom  we  have  met  in  this  place.  We  shall 
then  become  possessed  of  the  large  scalp  about  which  my  brother  has 
already  prophesied.  So  let  us  attack  him  at  once."  Immediately 
deploying,  they  began  to  assault  him,  shooting  arrows  at  him,  and 
struck  him  with  their  war  clubs  and  stone  hatchets,  but  they  could 
make  no  impression  on  him  and  failed  to  harm  him  in  the  least.  At 
last  the  strange  man  said  to  them,  kindly :  "  What  is  it  you  desire 
to  do?  Do  you  imagine  that  you  can  kill  me?"  They  answered, 
"That  is  indeed  our  purpose,  as  it  has  been  onr  purpose  f)n  the 
journey  hither  to  kill  all  who  fall  in  our  way,  no  matter  who  they 
may  be."  To  this  frank  admission  the  strange  man  replied :  "  The 
purpo.se  for  which  you  are  banded  together  Is  not  good.  From  this 
time  forward  yon  must  uttei'ly  renounce  it  and  carefully  refrain 
from  carrying  it  out.  Know  tiiat  it  is  quite  impossible  for  you  to 
kill  me.  The  reason  I  came  to  meet  you  here  was  to  gi\e  you  this 
counsel.  I  watched  you  as  you  made  your  way  to  this  place,  and 
saw  with  grief  that  you  killed  many  people.  I  want  you  to  know  that 
the  reason  I  have  come  to  meet  you  is  that  you  have  now  committed 
wrongs  enough  on  innocent  people;  and  I  want  you  to  know  furtlier 
that  if  you  do  not  cease  from  doing  these  wrongs  you  also  shall  die." 
To  this  the  leader  of  the  band,  Dehaenhyowens,  answered :  "  We  are 
94615°— 16 39 


610  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  an.\.  32 

very  thankful  to  you  for  this  good  counsel,  and  we  will  try  to  abide 
by  it.  AVe  will  pass  beyond  this  point,  as  we  have  bound  ourselves 
by  a  vow  to  attempt  to  reach  the  place  where  the  sun  regularly  sinks 
from  view — the  spot  where  the  sun  goes  to  and  fro."  Then  the 
stranger  said  merely,  "  Do  you.  then,  start  on  your  journey."  AVhile 
they  listened  to  him  with  bowed  heads  he  vanished,  and  they  did  not 
know  nor  see  whither  he  went. 

When  they  realized  that  they  were  again  alone  they  departed  from 
that  place.  After  traveling  a  long  time,  finallj'  they  saw  before 
them  a  very  large  lake,  which  barred  their  progress  straight 
ahead.  When  they  saw  that  there  was  apparently  no  means  of  cross- 
ing the  lake,  Dehaenhyowens,  the  leader  of  the  band,  said,  "  What 
should  we  do  to  pass  over  this  lake?"  Thereujjon  (jne  of  the  band, 
who  seldom  uttered  a  word,  said :  "  We  have  made  an  agreement 
bound  with  a  vow  that  no  matter  w'hat  the  circumstances  or  the 
obstacles  might  be.  we  would  nevertheless  pass  through  them  as 
we  have  done  in  the  past.  Now  the  time  has  indeed  come  for  us  to 
fullill  our  agreement."  Dehaenhyowens  answered.  ''  It  is  indeed  even 
as  you  have  stated  it.  Come,  then,  it  is  thou  who  nuist  take  the 
lead." 

Then  the  man  addressed  started  ahead,  going  out  alone  on  the 
surface  of  the  lake.  Thither  did  he  go  imflinchingly.  Thereupon 
in  turn  each  of  the  others  started  in  his  wake,  and  crossed  the  lake 
safely. 

When  they  reached  dry  land  on  the  farther  sliore,  they  stood  still, 
looking  around  and  examining  the  new  country.  They  were  sur- 
prised to  see  that  the  visible  sky  rose  and  fell  at  regular  intervals.''^'' 
As  they  conjectured,  it  rose  to  the  height  of  the  tallest  pine  tree 
known  to  them,  and  they  saw-,  too,  that  the  place  from  which  it  re- 
bounded was  so  smooth  that  it  glistened.  While  they  watched  the 
rising  and  falling  of  the  sky  they  saw  a  large  number  of  pigeons, 
which  flew  out  from  the  other  side  of  the  sky,  and  after  flying  around 
returned  whence  they  had  come. 

Then  Dehaenhyowens,  the  leader  of  the  band,  said :  "  What  manner 
of  thing  shall  we  now  do?  To  be  sure,  here  seems  to  be  indeed  the 
end  of  the  eartli.  It  is  evident,  of  course,  that  there  is  another  coun- 
try beyond  this  sky  barrier  which  is  thus  continually  rising  and 
falling."  Again  that  member  of  the  band  who  was  never  in  the 
habit  of  spoaking  much  said.  "  You  are  of  course  well  aware  of  the 
nature  of  the  agreement  by  which  we  bound  ourselves  together  before 
we  started  away  from  home:  moreover,  you  know  that  those  of  us 
who  are  still  alive  number  only  five.  The  opportunity  now  presents 
itself  for  us  to  do  that  on  which  we  all  agreed;  its  fulfilment  is  now 
demanded  of  us;  it  is  for  us  to  act  in  accordance  with  our  agreement." 


S^;^'^]  .  LEGENDS  611 

Thereupon  the  leader  of  the  band,  Dehaenhyowens.  said.  "  Come, 
tliPii:  let  us  now  \ny  aside  our  burden  of  scalps  in  tliis  phice  for  safe- 
kcepijii;  until  (iiir  return."  So  each  of  the  band  carefully  concealetl 
his  pack  of  scalps  in  such  nianiicr  that  he  would  be  able  to  lind  it 
should  he  ever  have  the  t)p])ortunity  of  jnissing  that  spot  afjain. 
When  they  had  concealed  the  scalps  Dchaeidiyowens,  addressing  him- 
self to  him  who  had  hist  spoken,  said.  "Now,  it  is  thou  who  must 
take  the  lead  in  passing  this  obstacle  in  our  jiath,  for  our  i)ath 
leads  directly  into  that  farther  country.  We  must  pass  so  quickly 
under  the  sky  as  it  i-ises  thai  \se  .-hall  not  be  caught  by  it  when  it 
falls  back  again."' 

.So  the  man  who  had  been  designated  to  take  the  lead,  having 
reassured  himself,  selected  a  fa\orable  starting  point  fur  ids  dash 
under  the  sky.  Carefully  linung  the  rising  and  the  falling  of  the 
sky,  he  finally  dashed  foi'wai'd  as  swiftly  as  possible.  His  friends 
watched  him  run  onward  until  he  had  ili-ajipeared  from  \iew  on 
the  farther  side  of  the  hari'ier.  As  the  sky  kept  (ui  rising  and  falling 
a  second  man.  making  like  ilis]K)sitions,  dashed  forward,  clearing  the 
liarricr  as  the  first  had  done,  and  di^al)l)earing  from  view  on  the 
other  side.  'I'hc  third  and  the  fourth  man  luul  like  success  in  clearing 
this  obstacle.  U'he  sky,  ho\\ever,  did  not  cease  from  rising  and  fall- 
ing back  on  its  resting  jilace. 

It  was  thi'u  the  turn  of  the  fifth  and  last  man  to  make  the 
perilous  attempt.  I  lis  four  companions  anxiously  watched  him  mak- 
ing his  dis()ositions  to  clear  the  danger  which  they  had  safely  passed, 
'ihey  didiiot  .see  him  start,  but  as  tlie  sky  arose  they  saw  him  still  far 
from  the  passage,  and  just  as  he  entered  it  the  .sky  fell  back  crush- 
ing him  to  death.  He  had  miscalculated  the  distance  he  had  to  run 
to  reach  the  passageway,  and  thus  his  career  ended. 

Then  tlu'  header  of  the  band.  Dehaenhyowens.  said:  "Let  us  l)e 
thankful  that  w c  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  go  through  this 
danger,  wiiich  has  taken  one  of  our  number.  We  now  niimlier  only 
four,  and  we  are  without  arms  or  other  means  of  defense.  ^\'e  know 
Hot  whclhci'  we  shall  rci|uirc  them  or  not.  Now,  I  believe  that  we 
must  de])art  hence  and  go  foi-ward.  It  is  very  evident  that  we  have 
arri\<'d  in  a  land  (piite  dill'erent  from  the  one  known  to  us.  The 
light  (>(  this  world  is  unei|i;aled  in  its  brightness:  the  daylight  of  the 
land  whence  we  staited  is  like  the  light  of  a  starlight  night  com- 
jiared  with  it.  Now.  let  us  depart  hence.  We  will  go.  seeking  to 
liiiil  human  beings,  if  tlici'e  be  such,  who  m.-iy  ha\('  a  settlement  liei-e." 

W'ithdUt  further  parleying  tlu-y  staited  forward.  As  they  trav- 
eled along  they  saw  that  the  trees  of  all  kinds  were  very  huge  and 
tall,  and  that  they  were  in  full  bloom;  the.se  trees  wei'e  of  surpassing 
beauty.  The  traveleis  were  greatly  sur])iised  to  learn  that  the 
flowers  siipi)lied  the  light  of  that  world,  and  they  ;ilso  observed  that 


612  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  31 

all  the  beasts  and  animals  and  birds  possessed  exceptionally  fine 
bodies  and  presence.  They  remarked,  too,  that  they  had  seen  noth- 
ing during  their  journey  thither  so  wonderful  and  strange.  They 
saw  with  astonishment  also  the  exuberance  of  the  growing  grasses  and 
plants,  among  which  they  beheld  in  rich  profusion  the  fruited  stalks 
of  the  strawberry  plants,  which  were  as  tall  as  the  grasses.  During 
their  entire  journey  thither  never  had  they  found  such  large,  luscious 
berries. 

Having  gone  some  distance  into  the  new  country  they  were  sur 
prised  to  see  in  the  distance  a  great  multitude  of  human  beings, 
who  were  assembled  on  the  heath,  which  was  the  playground  of 
that  people;  they  appeared  to  the  travelers  to  be  occupied  with 
games  of  amusement.  Dehaenhyowens,  the  leader  of  the  band,  said, 
"What  is  to  be  done  now,  my  friends,  seeing  that  we  have  arrived 
at  the  dwelling  place  of  strange  human  beings,  and  that  we  have 
nothing  with  which  to  defend  ourselves  should  they  attempt  to  do 
us  harm?"  Thereupon,  Gaenhyakdondye  said:  "We  have  indeed 
made  an  agreement,  as  you  know,  that  we  should  forsake  our  kin- 
dred and  our  lives  in  order  to  accomplish  the  purpose  of  this  expe- 
dition. You  know  that  each  of  us  volunteered  by  '  notching  the  rod ' 
to  carry  out  that  agreement.  If  we  are  to  die  here,  we  can  do  nothing 
to  avoid  such  an  end ;  we  must  not  break  aur  resolution  and  compact 
to  follow  the  path  of  the  sun  to  the  last.  The  only  thing  that  is 
certain  in  the  case  of  our  death  is  that  our  careers  would  end  here." 
His  brother,  Dehaenhyowens,  replied,  "  The  matter  stands  even  as 
you  have  stated  it;  so  then  let  us  go  forward  to  meet  this  people." 
At  this  they  started  toward  the  place  where  they  saw  a  great  multi- 
tude assembled.  In  a  very  short  time  the  anxious  travelers  came  to 
a  standstill  not  far  from  the  others.  Looking  around,  they  saw  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  .settlement  were  in  readiness  to  witness  a  game 
of  lacrosse,  and  that  the  players  were  even  then  standing  in  their 
accustomed  places. 

In  a  short  time  the  game  commenced,  and  the  vast  multitude  drew 
near  as  interested  spectators.  As  soon  as  it  was  fairly  under  way 
there  arose  a  great  tumult;  there  was  shouting  and  loud  cries  of 
excitement  and  approbation  caused  by  the  varying  fortunes  of 
favorite  players.  The  great  multitude  rejoiced,  and  the  new  ar- 
rivals were  greatly  delighted  with  what  they  saw. 

At  this  time  one  of  the  players  exhibited  gi'eat  rudeness  in  his 
manner  of  playing,  striking  right  and  left  with  his  netted  club  with- 
out regard  to  other  players  who  might  be  injured  by  his  reckless- 
ness. Thereupon  a  person  from  the  crowd,  going  up  to  him,  said: 
"  Do  thou  cease  acting  so  rudely :  thy  manner  is  too  violent,  because 
one  who  is  rejoicing  does  not  act  thus.  So  do  not  act  thus  again." 
Then  the  players. at  once  resumed  the  game,  playing  as  they  never 


^^^  LEGENDS  ,  013 

hud  pliiyod  hefore.  In  a  slioi'l  tiiiu>.  liowever.  the  pliiycr  who  had 
been  caiitioiied  to  be  more  mild  in  his  methods  of  j>l;iy  cxliildted 
again  his  violence  toward  his  playmateH.  At  once  the  niiui  who  had 
before  leitriiiianded  liim  went  np  io  him  ajrain  and  said.  "Assiiredly, 
1  forbade  tiiee  aetiii<j  a<?ain  so  rudely  as  thou  hast  done,  yet  thou 
hast  disobeyi'd  my  request.  Now  tliou  shalt  rest  for  a  time.  Thou 
art  too  unkind  and  headstron<r."  'I'lieivupon.  seizing  the  ball  player 
by  the  mti»e  of  the  neck  and  by  the  legs  and  lifting  him  up  bodily, 
he  bore  him  away.  Not  far  distant  stooil  a  very  large  ti-ee.  Thither 
the  man  carried  the  ball  player,  and  having  arrived  near  the  tree,  he 
cast  the  youth  against  its  truidc.  Headforemost  his  body  pene- 
iratcd  llie  trunk,  part  of  his  head  coming  out  on  the  opposite  side, 
while  his  feet  still  protruded  rtn  the  nearer  sitle.  Then  the  man  (juietly 
returned  to  the  ball  groiuid.  and  i>lay  was  resumed.  The  game  was 
continued  until  one  of  the  sides  had  scored  the  luimber  of  points 
re<iuisite  to  win.  and  then  the  players  again  mingled  with  the  crowd. 
Then  the  man  who  had  imprisoned  the  rude  player  in  the  tree  re- 
leased the  ])risoner.  with  an  admonition  to  be  more  mild  in  his 
methods  in  the  future.  On  his  return  to  the  multitude  tlu'  man  told 
them  that  it  wiis  time  for  them  to  return  to  their  several  homes,  and 
they  dispersed. 

It  was  then  that  this  man,  who  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  chief  men 
of  the  settlement,  came  to  the  place  where  stood  the  traveling  com- 
pany of  Dehaenhyowens.  As  soon  as  he  joined  them  he  asked  famil- 
iarly. "So  you  have  arrived,  have  you?  "  Replying  to  this  rpiestion, 
Dehaenhyowens  saitl.  "  We  have  now  arrived."  The  man  answei-ed, 
"Assuredly,  the  reason  that  you  lia\('  ai'rived  safe  in  this  land  is  that 
one  of  your  numl>er  began  at  the  \ei-y  time  of  your  departure  from 
home  to  think,  repeatedly  soliloquizing.  'Oh,  Thou  ^faster  of  liife. 
Thou  shouldst  have  pity  on  us.  so  that  we  may  ])ass  thiongli  all  the 
dangers  which  beset  the  accom])li.shment  of  the  jiurpose  of  our  solenui 
agreement.  But,  if  it  so  be  that  we  shall  die  oti  this  earth,  grant  that 
we  may  also  ari'ive  in  that  other  laiul  that  is  extant,  whei'e  Thou 
thyself  abidest.  Thou  Master  of  Life.'  Every  day.  every  night  also, 
such  was  his  mind.  It  was  that  which  was  able  to  bring  your  bodies 
into  this  land — this  elder  country.  Moreover,  you  have  fully  accom- 
f)lished  that  which  I  promised  you  when  T  met  you  on  your  way 
hither.  So  now.  let  me  ask  you.  who  among  you  is  willing  that  I 
should  res-tore  his  life:  that  is.  refit  his  being?" 

Then  one  of  the  foui-  travelers  answerefl.  "  I  am  one  that  is  willing; 
you  shall  begin  on  me."'  Then  the  man  of  the  settlement,  going  to  a 
tree  which  stood  not  far  distant  and  seizing  it.  bent  it  down  to  the 
earth:  he  then  .strip])ed  the  bark  in  one  entire  piece  from  the  trunk. 
Placing  this  piece  of  bark  on  the  ground,  he  said  to  the  volunteer, 
"Now.  do  thou  come  hither  to  me."     '['hereupon  the  man   who  had 


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

conspnted  to  have  his  body  smd  being  refitted  went  forward  to  him. 
Then  the  host  phiced  the  man  on  the  outspread  piece  of  bark,  while 
the  latter's  three  companions  intently  watched  him  in  what  he  was 
doing  to  their  companion :  and  they  saw  him  begin  his  work.  Hav- 
h\g  taken  apart  the  fleshly  body  of  their  companion,  and  unjointed 
all  his  skeleton,  he  laid  each  several  piece  aside.  And  then  he  took 
tach  of  the  i;)ieces,  each  one  of  the  joints  of  the  bones,  and  wiped  it 
very  carefully.    He  soon  completed  his  task,  washing  all. 

He  then  began  to  join  together  all  the  bones  and  all  the  portions 
of  flesh  in  their  proper  relations.  As  soon  as  he  had  completed  his 
task  he  said  to  his  guests:  "  Now  I  have  refinished  this  work.  What 
is  solely  of  the  other  world  has  been  removed,  for  what  is  of  the 
earth  earthy  is  out  of  place  here.  Now,  my  friend,  arise  again." 
Then  the  man  whose  body  and  being  had  been  remodeled  arose,  and 
he  stood  erect  and  cast  his  eyes  around  him.  His  host  said  to  him, 
"Like  unto  what  is  your  life  as  you  now  feel  it?  Do  you  feel  dif- 
ferent from  what  you  were  before  I  remodeled  your  body  and  being?" 
To  this  the  renewed  man  replied :  "  The  conditions  of  my  life  are 
such  that  I  feel  immeasurably  better,  and  happier  than  I  did  before." 
His  host  said  to  him,  ''If  this  be,  indeed,  true,  make  the  attempt  to 
overtake  and  seize  that  deer  standing  yonder  in  the  distance.  When 
the  remodeled  man  started  toward  it  the  deer  at  once  fled  in  terror. 
The  man  ran  swiftly  in  pursuit,  and  the  deer  had  not  gone  very  far 
before  he  overtook  and  seized  it.  On  bringing  it  back  to  the  place 
where  his  host  stood,  the  latter  said  to  him,  "  Now,  assuredly,  your 
life  has  become  a  new  thing — you  have  acquired  the  life  of  this 
country." 

The  remaining  three  of  Dehaenhyowens'  party,  seeing  how  desir- 
able was  the  change  brought  about  in  the  body  and  life  of  the  other 
by  having  him  remodeled,  said,  "  We,  too,  wish  to  have  the  same 
changes  made  in  us  as  were  brought  about  in  the  body  and  life  of  our 
companion.    So  we  ask  that  the  same  be  done  for  us,  too." 

Then  the  host  of  the  band  of  Dehaenhyowens  proceeded  to  renew 
and  remodel  the  bodies  and  the  lives  of  the  three  who  had  last  re- 
quested him  to  do  so.  When  he  had  completed  this  task  he  said  to 
them  as  their  friend.  "Now.  I  have  recast  all  your  lives;  I  have 
finished  everything  that  concerns  and  fits  them  for  this  country.  We 
will  now  start  to  go  to  the  lodge,  where  you  shall  remain  while  you 
are  in  this  country  as  your  home." 

So  the  band  of  Dehaenhyowens  and  their  host  started.  They 
walked  leisurely  along,  noting  the  many  strange  things  which  at- 
tracted their  attention  on  every  side.  They  had  not  gone  far  before 
they  reached  a  very  large  lodge,  into  w^hich  their  host  led  the  party; 
here  they  saw  a  very  old  woman  who  presided  over  the  lodge.     On 


Sy^Vw]  LEGENDS  615 

enteriiip,  the  liost  of  Deluienhyowens  :uid  his  friends  said  to  the  old 
woman  :  "  I  lia\  e  brought  here  those  persons  who.  I  said,  would  take 
up  their  abode  here  when  they  arrived  in  tliis  country.  They  shall 
remain  here  under  your  care  and  keeping."'  The  aged  woman,  the 
mistiess  of  llio  lodge,  replied:  "It  shall  be  even  as  you  have  said. 
These,  my  grandi'hihlren.  shall  be  one  with  me  here  in  tiiis  lodge." 
Then,  the  man  who  had  brought  the  visitors  there  said:  "  Now  1  will 
go  away.  .Make  V'oui'selves  at  home."  And  he  left  the  lodge  at  once 
to  attentl  to  his  own  all'airs. 

The  mistress  of  the  lodge  said  to  her  guests,  to  make  them  feel 
more  at  home:  "I  am  not  quite  alone,  you  si'e.  in  caring  for  tlie 
lodge,  which  is  very  large.  The  male  persons  who  dwell  here  are 
absent  hunting:  they  will  soon  return  for  the  night.  I  will  now  pre- 
pare something  for  you  to  eat."  Thereupon  she  set  before  them 
what  was  ready  cooked  in  the  lodge. 

A\'hen  they  first  entered  the  lodge  the  Inmd  of  Dehaenhyowens 
noticed  tliaf  tlie  old  woman  was  busily  engaged  in  making  a  mantle 
for  hei'self:  at  intervals  she  held  the  work  up  at  arm's  length  to 
note  the  ell'ect  of  her  labor.  The  visitors  discovered  also  that  human 
hair  was  the  material  out  of  which  the  old  woman  was  making  her 
mantle.  They  saw,  too,  that  their  aged  hostess  possessed  a  very  small 
cur.  wliirli  Imv  near  by  on  her  couch.  They  were  astoni.shed  to  see 
that,  when  the  old  woman  left  her  work  for  a  few  moments,  the 
cur  (|iii(kly  arose  and.  going  over  to  the  place  where  the  old  woman 
had  hd't  Ih'I-  linir  work,  began  to  unravel  hurriedly  but  steadily  all 
the  work  that  the  old  wonuin  had  done  on  her  mantle.  When  the 
dog  had  nearly  unraveled  all  the  work  the  old  woman  returned  to 
continue  her  task. 

^V'hile  the  visitors  were  eating  what  the  old  woman  had  set  before 
them  the  male  members  of  her  household  returned,  each  bearing  a 
bundle.  On  entering  the  lodge  they  said  to  the  old  woman:  "  ^\'e 
have  returned.  We  were  fortunate  throughout  the  entire  expedition 
in  killing  much  game."  'ihe  mistress  of  the  lodge  .said  in  reply: 
"Verily,  be  it  known  that  a  short  time  ago  Teharonhiawagon 
brought  to  this  lodge  the  human  beings  (ofi(/we) ,  who.  he  said, 
were  coming  to  this  coimtry.  and  who,  he  said,  would  abide  in  this 
lodge  when  they  should  arrive.  They  have  arrived,  and  the.se  men 
here  are  they.  Talk  with  them  and  become  acqiiainted  with  them." 
Thereujion  the  nien  who  had  just  returned  to  their  lodge  dn^w  near 
the  visitors  and  conveised  with  them,  saying:  "We  are,  indeed, 
thankful  that  you  have  arrived  here  safe.  It  is  now  a  long  time 
that  we  have  kept  watching  you  on  your  way  hither.  Moreover,  be 
it  known,  now  that  we  have  seen  one  another,  we  are  greatly  re- 
joiced."    Then  they  nuitually  stroked  one  another's  bodiea,  as  was 


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

customary  on  such  occasions,  and  greatly  rejoiced  to  become  ac- 
quainted. 

Then  the  old  woman  began  to  prepare  food  for  the  returned 
hunters;  and  when  it  was  cooked  the  old  woman  called  the  men,  say- 
ing, "  Now,  of  course,  you  will  eat  the  food  which  I  have  prepared  for 
you";  and  the  men  began  to  take  tlieir  nourishment.  Their  manner 
of  doing  this  seemed  most  peculiar  to  the  band  of  Dehaenhyowens; 
hence  they  intently  watched  the  hunters,  who  did  not  eat  the  food 
set  before  them.  Instead,  they  merely  absorbed  the  exhalations  of 
the  food,  it  being  the  odor  or  effluvium  of  the  food  that  satisfied 
their  hunger.  When  they  had  finished  their  meal  the  old  woman 
said  to  them, "  It  is  now  time,  perhaps,  that  you  should  go  out  to  hunt 
game  wdiich  our  human  gue.st.s  can  eat,  for  you  know  that  they  do  not 
eat  the  same  kind  of  things  that  you  do." 

Accordingly,  the  hunters  started  out  of  the  lodge  to  seek  game 
for  their  guests.  As  soon  as  the  men  were  gone  the  old  woman  took 
from  the  headrest  of  her  couch  a  single  grain  of  corn  and  a  single 
squash  seed.  Going  to  the  end  of  the  fireplace,  there  she  prepared 
in  the  ashes  two  small  hills  or  beds,  in  one  of  which  she  placed  the 
grain  of  corn  and  in  the  other  the  squash  seed,  and  carefully  covered 
them  with  rich  soil.  In  a  very  short  space  of  time  the  visitors  were 
greatly  surprised  to  see  that  the  seeds  had  sprouted  and  shot  out  of 
the  ground  small  plantlets,  which  were  growing  rajjidly.  Not  very 
long  after  this  they  saw  the  cornstalk  put  forth  an  ear  of  corn  and 
the  squash  vine  a  squash.  In  the  short  space  of  a  few  hours  these 
plants  had  supplied  the  old  woman  with  ears  of  corn  and  squashes. 
These  she  prepared  to  cook. 

By  this  time  the  men  who  were  out  hunting  returned  to  the  lodge, 
bringing  with  them  the  carcass  of  a  fine  deer  which  they  had  killed. 
This  they  speedily  set  to  work  to  skin  and  quarter.  As  soon  as  they 
had  finished  this  task,  the  old  woman  set  the  venison,  corn,  and 
squashes  over  the  fire  to  cook  in  kettles  on  stone  supports  and  has- 
tened the  cooking  by  putting  hot  stones  into  them.  When  these 
things  were  cooked  she  placed  them  in  fine  bowls  of  bark,  which 
she  set  before  the  visitors,  bidding  them  to  eat  heartily.  So  Dehaen- 
hyowens and  his  friends  ate  their  fill. 

It  now  came  to  pass  that  the  aged  woman  said,  "  It  is  time, 
you  will  agree,  I  think,  for  you  to  go  again  to  hunt."  This  she  said 
to  the  male  members  of  her  family.  Then  the  visitors  saw  some- 
thing very  strange.  They  saw  the  old  woman  take  from  under  her 
couch  a  large  quantity  of  corn  husks  and  carry  them  to  what  ap- 
peared to  be  an  added  lodge  or  separate  room  and  there  jnish  aside 
rhe  door  flap.  In  that  room  the  visitors  saw  what  seemed  to  them  a 
lake,  round  in  form.  The  old  woman  made  a  circuit  of  the  lake, 
heaping  the  corn  husks  around  its  edges.     When  this  (ask   was  fin- 


--■^:]  I.KGEXDS  G17 

ishcd  slie  set  the  corn  husks  on  fire  and  they  quickly  burst  into 
fhunes,  iiiid  these  flames  consumed  all  tiie  water  of  tiie  lake.  Next 
she  said  to  her  men  folks,  "  Now.  I  have  airain  completed  the  prepara- 
tions. Do  you  start  now.  ^'ou  must  be  careful.  In  the  course  of 
your  excursion  you  must  not  injui-e  any  person."  'I'liese  words  she 
addressed  to  the  men  of  her  lodtre.  and  they  depailed  on  tlieir  usual 
tri])  throu<rh  the  land. 

It  came  to  jiass  that  the  Imnd  of  Dehacnhyowens  remained  in 
the  lodire  of  the  old  woman  durinix  the  entire  time  they  were  in  that 
coinitrw 

Furthermore,  it  happened  that  wl;c:i  tli(\v  took  a  sti'oll  in  the  coun 
try  while  the  men  of  the  lodfje  were  absent  they  came  on  a  spring  of 
water  which  formed  a  large  pool.  One  of  the  party,  using  his  bow 
as  a  I'od,  thrust  it  into  the  pool  to  see  whether  he  could  find  any 
living  thing  in  it;  but  he  saw  nothing  to  attract  his  attention.  AVhen 
they  returned  to  the  lodge  t.he\-  again  stood  their  bows  in  the  usual 
place,  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  AVhen  the  men  of  the  lodge  had  re- 
turned home  from  their  excursion  into  the  country  one  of  them  said, 
"There  is  something  in  this  lodge  that  has  the  smell  of  game  (i,  e., 
something  to  be  killed),"  and  he  at  once  began  looking  around  from 
place  to  place.  Then  the  others  after  sniffing  the  air  exclaimed,  "  It  is 
true;  there  is  something  in  here  that  smells  like  a  game  animal."' 
At  this  one  went  to  the  place  where  the  bows  belonging  to  the  Itand 
of  Dehaenhyowens  were  standing  and,  taking  one  of  the  bows  in 
his  hand.  said.  "  It  is.  indeed,  this  bow  that  has  the  scent."  Turning 
to  Dehaenhyowens,  he  said:  "To  what  place  have  you  been?  What 
is  the  place  like  where  you  touched  something  with  this  bow?" 
Answering,  Dehaenhyowens  said,  '"  Yonder,  not  far  away,  you  know, 
there  is  a  cliff,  and  on  the  farther  side  of  it  there  i<  a  spring  of 
water,  forming  a  dee])  pool." 

Thereupon  the  men  of  the  ledge  exclaimed.  "Let  us  all  go  to  that 
place  rigiit  away."  and  all  started  out  of  the  lodge  and  ran  swiftl\ 
to  the  spring.  \\'hen  tiiev  airive<l  there  Dehaenhyowens  said  to  his 
companions.  "There,  in  this  s-])ring  and  pool.  I  thrust  my  bow  to 
rouse  whatever  might  dwell  therein."  ( )ne  of  the  men  of  the  country 
answered :  "  It  is  certain  that  some  mysterious  creatiwe  abides  herein. 
We  shall  see  what  it  is.  Do  you.  our  friends,  stand  yondei',  a  little 
aloof,  and  then  you  shall  see  the  thing  done,  when  we  shall  kill  it." 

Heeding  this  admonition,  the  iiand  of  Dehaenhyowens  drew  h-Ack 
a  short  distance  and  watched  the  men  of  the  country  make  their 
dispositions  for  the  attack.  They  did  not  wait  long  to  s<'e  a  won- 
derful phenomenon,  for  tho  men  of  the  country  at  once  began  their 
task.  One  touched  with  a  rod  the  bottom  of  the  pool  whence 
flowed  the  spring  of  water.  ThereujDon  began  to  lie  heard  loud 
sounds,  even  such  as  are  hearil   wIhmj   the   voicings  of  thunder  fill 


618  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.3» 

the  air  with  a  deafening  din.  Such  was  the  tumult  and  confusion 
at  this  time  that  the  now  thoroughly  frightened  human  beings  fled 
from  the  spot  to  seek  safety.  There  were  also  flashes  of  lightning 
followed  by  loud  crashes  and  deep  rumblings  of  the  thunder.  This 
uproar  continued  for  some  time,  when  suddenly  it  ceased  and  one  of 
the  hosts  of  Dehaenhyowens  said,  calling  his  guests  back :  "  Oh,  come 
back!    We  have  now  killed  this  creature." 

Thereupon,  when  they  had  again  assembled,  they  departed,  going 
back  to  their  ledge.  When  they  reached  it  they  said  to  the  old 
woman:  ''We  have  now  killed  that  uncanny  creature,  that  Otkon. 
Indeed,  we  do  not  know  in  what  possible  way  it  happened  that  this 
creature  took  up  its  abode  so  very  near  this  lodge.  We  had  never  be- 
foie  noticed  it.  It  may  have  been  there  a  long  time,  since  it  had  grown 
so  large.  We  have  barely  escaped,  perhaps,  some  great  misfortune." 
The  old  woman  replied  gratefully,  "  What  a  very  remarkable  affair 
it  is,  in  which  our  visitors  have  been  of  assistance  to  us."  In  a  mo- 
ment she  asked :  "  What  is  the  Otkon  i  "■  What  is  the  form  and  kind 
of  thing  you  have  so  fortunately  killed  ?  "  The  men  answered :  "  It 
is  the  Great  Blue  Lizard  which  we  have  destroyed."  So  they  rested 
for  the  night. 

The  next  morning  the  old  woman  said  to  the  men  of  her  lodge: 
"  For  myself,  I  am  thinking  that  it  is  just  the  time  of  the  year  when 
you  should  again  make  mellow  and  moist  all  the  things  that  grow 
on  the  earth.  What  do  you  say?"  One  of  the  men  replied,  "It 
would  seem  well,  perhaps,  that  you  should  ask  him  who  is  the  prin- 
cipal one  to  be  consulted  in  regard  to  our  duties  in  this  matter.  It 
is  possible  that  he  may  say :  '  It  is  now  the  proper  time  of  the  year 
in  which  you  should  again  make  mellow  and  moist  all  the  things 
that  severally  grow  on  the  earth." "  So  saying,  he  ceased  talking 
with  her. 

Arising  from  her  .seat  and  pushing  aside  gently  the  door  flap  at  the 
entrance  to  the  adjoining  room,  the  aged  woman  made  the  inquiry 
just  noted.  The  person  addressed  answered:  "For  myself,  I  too 
think  that  it  is  time,  perhaps,  for  doing  that  about  which  you  have 
asked  me.    So  let  it  be  done  as  you  wish." 

Allowing  the  door  flap  to  fall  back,  the  old  woman  withdrew  to  her 
own  apartment  in  the  lodge.  In  order  to  make  the  needed  prepara- 
tions for  carrying  out  the  purpose  of  her  inquiry  she  gathered  a 
quantity  of  corn  husks  and,  again  entering  the  place  in  which  the 
lake  was  situated,  she  heaped  once  more  the  corn  husks  along  the  shore. 
When  she  had  placed  the  corn  husks  around  the  entire  circuit  of  the 
lake  she  set  them  on  fire.  AVhen  the  fire  had  become  brisk  and  bright 
the  old  woman,  turning  to  the  men  of  the  lodge,  said :  "  I  have  now 
again  made  the  necessary  preparations  for  the  performance  of  your 
accustomed  task,  and  j'ou  shall  start  on  your  journey  to  make  all 


Z^j;?^]  LEGENDS  619 

thinirs  (liat  prow  on  the  eai'th  moist  and  mellow  and  the  soil  us  well. 
I'licy  who  are  visitinj^  us  shall  accompany  you  wherever  you  may 
pro:  you  must  carelhdly  keep  tln'm  from  harm,  and  you  Tuust  show 
them  all  thiuffs  of  intei'est  on  your  journey."' 

Taking  up  tlieir  imjilenients  anrl  weapons,  the  men  of  the  lod^je 
and  their  <iuests  departed.  Durinjj;  tlie  course  of  their  long  journey 
one  of  the  hosts  of  the  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  men  said:  "Vou  shall 
now  see  the  tliin<jfs  over  which  we  ha\e  char<re.  lie  whom  you  are 
wont  to  call  Ilawenniyo  (the  Ruler)  is  the  person  who  has  charged 
us  with  all  these  matters,  and  we  .shall  continue  to  have  the  care  of 
them  so  long  as  the  earth  endures,  ^^'e  shall  tend  all  those  things 
which  he  has  planted  on  the  earth  :  we  shall  habitually  cause  water  to 
fall  on  them:  we  shall  keep  all  the  water  in  the  se\eral  ri\iMs  on  the 
earth  fresh  at  all  times;  anil  we  shall  water  all  those  things  upon 
which  you  and  your  peo])le  live,  so  that  all  things  which  he  has  made 
to  be  shall  not  jierish  for  the  need  of  water.  .Vu<l  you.  you  human 
beings,  shall  then  live  in  health  and  contentuuMit.  Such  are  our 
duties  from  day  to  day." 

Then  it  was  that  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  pai'ty,  looking  beneath 
them,  saw  another  earth  far  below.  As  they  pi'oceeded  they  heai'd 
loud  noises,  like  the  voicings  of  Thunder  when  he  draws  near  on 
earth:  and  there  began  to  be  bi-ight  Hashes  of  lightning,  and  next 
there  began  to  be  rain:  and.  linally.  raindrops  fell  to  the  lower  earth. 

As  they  moved  onward  they  saw  a  huge  serpent,  which  had  for- 
midable hoi'us  protruding  from  its  head.  Then  one  of  the  hosts  of 
Dehaenhyowens  and  his  friends  said  :  "  Look  at  that  cieature  moving 
along  swiftly  yonder.  It  is  known  that  were  it  to  emerge  per- 
manently from  th(>  interior  of  the  earth  it  wijuld  bring  great  mis- 
fortune to  the  things  that  dwell  on  the  earth:  in  fact,  it  would  bring 
to  an  end  the  days  of  a  large  nudtituile  of  you  human  beings.  T() 
see  that  it  ne\er  comes  foi'th  |)ermanently  out  of  the  giotnid  is  one 
of  the  duties  with  which  we  are  strictly  charged."  In  a  moment  the 
speaker  continued,  •"  Xow  you  shall  see  what  will  take  place  when 
we  will  kill  it.'"  As  the  party  of  Dehaenhyowens  watched,  their  hosts 
began  to  pursue  the  serpent.  The  voice  i>f  the  Thunder  was  exceed- 
ingly loud  and  the  Hashes  of  lightning  amazingly  vivid.  I'inally. 
the  huge  ser[)ent  was  hit  by  its  juirsuers  and  began  to  flee  from  them. 
It  sought  unsuccessfully  to  hide  beneath  standing  trees,  but  these 
trees  were  struck  and  riven  into  splinters;  then  it  fled  to  the  moun- 
tains, seeking  to  conceal  itself  beneath  their  shelter;  but  this  also 
was  in  vain,  for  it  was  repeatedly  hit  by  the  men  of  Thunder,  and, 
finally,  was  killed. 

As  an  explanation  of  this  phenomenon  the  hosts  of  Dehaenhyowens 
and  his  friends  said:  "It  is  verily  true  that  beneath  the  .surface  of 
the  ground  whatever  is  otk-on  (i.  e.,  malign  by  nature)  moves  to-and- 


620  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  Axx.  32 

fro  from  place  to  place.  It  would,  indeed,  be  most  unfortunate 
for  us  all  should  this  species  of  being  be  permitted  to  travel  from 
place  to  place  upon  the  earth.  Hence  such  beings  are  doomed  to  abide 
beneath  the  surface  of  the  ground  in  the  interior  of  the  earth. 

"And  now  concerning  the  origin  of  these  beings:  It  was  he  whom 
Me  call  the  Evil-minded  One "^  that  formed  their  bodies ;  and  it  came 
to  pass  that  he  whom  you  call  Hawenniyo  (i.  e.,  the  Disposer,  or 
Kuler)  decided  that  so  long  as  the  earth  endures  these  beings  shall 
abide  under  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Furthermore,  we  ourselves 
believe  that  He  who  charged  us  with  the  performance  of  this  task 
of  keeping  them  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth  will  cause  it  to 
come  to  pass,  perhaps  when  the  earth  is  nearing  its  end — then,  and 
not  until  then — that  these  beings  shall  be  permitted  to  come  forth 
upon  the  earth.  So  is  it,  indeed,  to  come  to  pass  that  when  the  event 
is  not  distant — the  end  of  the  earth — He  will  bring  to  an  end  the 
duties  with  which  we  are  severally  charged,  to  be  performed  for  the 
benefit  of  the  things  tliat  live  upon  the  earth.  Not  until  then  shall 
the  waters  which  are  held  in  their  several  places  become  polluted; 
finally  all  other  things  shall  likewise  become  old  and  decayed  upon 
the  earth ;  and  all  things  that  grow  out  of  the  ground,  too,  shall  gi-ow 
old  and  sear;  indeed,  all  things  shall  become  withered  and  decayed. 
Now  let  us  turn  back  homeward." 

Then  the  party,  turning  homeward,  retraced  their  steps.  On 
reentering  their  lodge  the  spokesman  of  the  party  said  to  the  old 
woman  who  presided  over  the  lodgehold  (household),  "We  have 
now  completed  the  task  of  making  moist  and  mellow  all  things 
that  grow  upon  the  face  of  the  earth."  Arising  from  her  seat,  the 
aged  matron  went  into  the  adjoining  room  of  the  lodge  and  said  to  a 
person  who  occupied  that  room,  "  Now,  they  have,  indeed,  returned." 
With  these  words  the  old  woman  withdrew  and  resumed  her  accus- 
tomed seat. 

In  a  short  time  the  door  flap  separating  the  adjoining  room  was 
thrust  aside  and  a  man  {heii'gwe^  *^'),  thrusting  his  head  through  the 
doorway,  asked  the  men  who  had  returned,  "  Have  you  now.  indeed, 
completed  the  work?  Have  you  made  moist  and  mellow  all  things 
that  grow  on  the  earth  beneath  this  one?  "  The  men  replied  in  uni- 
son. "  We  have  indeed  accomplished  our  task  as  we  were  charged  to 
do."  Thereupon  the  person  from  the  adjoining  room  said,  "  Now 
you  must  rest  until  there  shall  be  another  day ;  then  you  shall  again 
recommence  the  performance  of  the  duties  with  which  you  are  sever- 
ally charged." 

This  conversation  gave  Dehaenhj'owens  and  his  party  the  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  the  speaker.  They  were  convinced  that  he  was 
human;  that  he  was.  in  fact,  a  heiVgwe'.  But  they  were  amazed  to 
see  that  while  half  of  the  body  of  this  strange  person  was  in  all 


^^,«:?»;]  LEGENDS  621 

respects  like  that  of  a  human  being,  the  other  half  of  his  body  was 
crystal  ice.  They  felt,  too,  a  breeze  that  was  chilling  strike  them 
from  out  of  the  doorway;  but  at  this  moment  the  strange  man  with- 
drew the  door  flap,  concealing  the  room  from  further  observation. 

The  aged  matron  of  the  lodge,  addressing  her  guests,  said :  "  That 
person  wliom  you  have  just  seen  is.  in  fact,  the  principal  one  of  all 
tho.se  who  are  charged  with  duties  to  perform  in  tlic  erondiiiy  of  tlie 
earth.  He  is  called  by  us  Dchodyadgaowcn  ( i.  e.,  the  Cloven- 
bodied  Man)  :  he  is  named  also  Owisondyon  (i.  e..  Cast  or  Falling 
Hail).  It  is  this  feature  that  you  saw  when  he  showed  his  face  at 
fhe  doorway,  and  that  explains  why  there  came  forth  from  him  a 
cold  breeze.  This  act  will  immediately  cause  the  ])rospecti\e  days 
and  nights  on  the  earth  to  become  cold  and  wintry,  llowexcr.  when 
the  day  again  dawns  lie  will  again  show  his  face  and  the  other  side 
of  his  body,  and  inunediately  there  will  blow  hither  a  hot  hiceze." 

Then  the  members  of  the  lodge  said  one  to  another:  "•  \\'e  Inne 
paused  in  our  labors  in  order  to  rest.  Tomorrow  it  will  come  to  pass 
that  we  shall  take  you  back  to  the  place  whence  you  departed,  for 
you  have  been  here  now  many  days.  This  is,  of  course,  what  you 
human  beings  call  springtime."  Having  said  this,  all  the  members 
of  the  lodge  fell  asleep  in  their  sevei'al  places.  When  morning  lame 
the  door  flap  separating  the  room  from  the  adjoining  one  was  again 
thrust  aside,  and  the  strange  man,  Dchodyadgaowcn,  showed  him- 
self in  the  doorway,  and  called  out  aloud,  "  Now  then,  all  you  jjcople, 
awake  and  arise;  it  is  time  to  do  so."  At  this  all  the  sleepers  awoke, 
and  as  they  awoke,  they  outstretched  their  arms  and  bodies,  yawn- 
ing and  uttering  loud  vociferations,  as  are  heard  on  earth  in  tlie 
voice  of  Thunder.  There  aro.se  a  warm  breeze,  and  then  the  men  of 
the  lodge  went  out.  It  was  but  a  shoit  time  after  this  that  the  men 
reentered  the  lodge  and  said  to  their  guests:  "  You  should  accompany 
us  on  our  intended  journey,  so  that  you  may  see  an  Otkon  whiili 
inlial)its  certain  trees  near  the  place  whence  we  returned.  It  is  a 
long  time  that  we  have  been  making  attempts  to  kill  and  destroy  this 
being,  for  it  is  possessed  of  very  powerful  orenda."  Thereupon 
Dehaenhyowens  replied,  "  It  is  of  course  right  that  we'should  accom- 
pany you  to  learn  what  manner  of  being  that  may  be." 

So  all  the  men  of  the  lodge  started  on  their  journey,  going  directly 
to  the  place  where  the  being  that  was  othon  had  its  lair.  Having 
gone  a  long  distance,  the  men  of  Thunder  finally  said  to  their 
guests:  "There,  iiuleed,  is  the  place  in  which  the  Otkon  abides.  You 
must  stand  in  yonder  place,  quite  removed  from  any  danger  from 
this  being,  and  you  shall  see  it  as  we  shall  cause  it  to  come  forth 
from  the  lair."  Thereupon  the  party  of  Dehaenhyowens  withdrew 
to  the  designated  position.  They  saw  one  of  their  hosts  go  forwai'd 
and  hit  one  of  the  ti'ee.s  several  sharp  blows  with  his  clul);  they  saw 


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

the  being  come  forth  from  its  lair  and  conchided  that  it  was  what 
they  called  a  squirrel.  But  the  being,  or  squirrel,  thrust  its  body 
only  partially  out  of  its  hiding  place;  at  once  the  men  of  Thunder 
hurled  their  shots  at  it ;  there  were  loud  thunderings  and  the  liglit- 
ning  flashes  were  vivid,  and  there  arose  a  great  tumult  and  a  terrific 
hurricane.  In  a  short  time  the  men  of  Thunder  ceased  for  a  mo- 
ment, having  failed  to  hit  the  being.  At  once  the  squirrel  (or  being) 
quickly  descended  the  tree  on  which  it  then  was,  and  running  to 
another  tree,  climbed  it  in  an  effort  to  escape  its  tormentors.  But 
very  soon  the  men  of  Thunder  shivered  this  ti'ee,  whereupon  the 
squirrel,  having  fled  back  to  the  first  tree,  swiftly  climbed  back 
into  its  lair.  Then  the  men  of  Thunder  said:  "Now,  indeed,  you 
have  seen  what  we  call  Otkon.  The  time  is  long  in  which  we  have 
been  making  vain  efforts  to  destroy  this  being,  this  great  Otkon." 

In  replying.  Dehaenhyowens  said :  "  It  is  now  our  turn ;  we  will 
attempt  to  kill  the  Otkon."  But  the  men  of  Tliunder  answered, 
"We  fear  that  the  attempt  will  not  result  favorably;  you  may  be 
injured,  for.  indeed,  this  is  an  Otkon  beyond  measure."  Dehaen- 
hyowens replied  assuringly,  "  AVe  know  that  we  can  accomplish  this 
task."  "  If  you  are  determined  to  mtike  the  attempt,  we  will  assist 
you  should  you  fail,"  said  the  men  of  Thunder.  Going  up  to  the 
tree  in  which  the  squirrel  had  its  lair,  one  of  the  party  of  Dehaen- 
hyowens tapped  on  it  with  his  club.  Forthwith  the  squirrel  again 
thrust  out  its  body  and  gazed  at  the  men.  Taking  a  knob-headed 
arrow  from  his  quiver.  Dehaenhyowens  shot  at  it,  hitting  the  squirrel 
fair  in  the  head  and  causing  it  to  come  tumbling  to  the  ground. 

Thereupon  the  men  of  Thunder,  taking  up  the  bodj'  of  the  squirrel, 
started  for  home,  with  their  guests.  "When  they  reached  their  lodge 
the  men  of  Thunder  .said  to  the  old  woman,  "  Now,  in  fact,  our  vis- 
itors have  killed  it;  they  have  indeed  killed  the  Otkon,  which  for  a 
ver}'  long  time  we  have  failed  in  our  attempts  to  kill."  Answering 
this,  the  old  woman  said :  "  I  am  very  thankful  to  receive  this  news. 
This  then  shall  be  done :  the  skin  of  this  Otkon  shall  belong  to  me ; 
as  it  is  so  precious,  it  shall  be  the  robe  of  mj'  couch."  So  Dehaenhy- 
owens carefully  skinned  the  squirrel;  after  doing  this  he  neatly  pre- 
pared the  skin,  which  he  spread  on  a  suitable  frame  to  dr}'.  "WHien 
it  liail  thoroughly  dried  Dehaenhyowens  presented  it  to  the  old 
Woman,  assuring  her  that  was  the  method  his  people  employed  in 
preserving  the  skins  of  animals.  The  old  woman  received  the  skin 
with  many  thanks,  for  she  felt  that  she  had  come  into  possession  of  a 
skin  which  was  very  precious  to  her. 

Then,  addressing  the  men  of  her  lodge,  she  said:  "Our  visitors  are 
the  ones  who  have  accomplished  this  thing  for  us.  In  token  of  this 
one  (if  our  visitors  shall  remain  here  as  one  of  us.  He  shall  l)e  a  co- 
worker with  vou  for  tiie  reason  that  he  and  his  kindred  were  able 


^IZ'.^:^]  LEGENDS  623 

to  accomplish  that  which  you  yo"''selves  wove  unaljlc  to  do."  In 
ofivinjr  assent  to  tliis  tlie  men  replied :  "  Let  that,  too,  be  done;  let  him 
wlio  is  foremost  among  us  say  it,  and  it  shall  be  done."  Tlie  old 
woman  replied:  "  Tliat  is  so;  liis  consent  is  all  that  is  required  to 
accomplish  this  desirable  thinp;."  At  once  arising  from  her  seat,  she 
went  to  the  doorway  leading  to  tlie  adjoining  room  and,  pushing 
aside  the  door  flap,  said  :  *'  Behold  !  AVill  you  confirm  the  proposition 
that  one  of  the  men  visiting  us  shall  remain  here  as  one  of  us,  while 
his  companions  sliall  return  hence  to  their  own  homes?  The  reason 
for  this  is  that  he  was  able  to  kill  the  squirrel  (the  Otkon),  and  since 
tlie  men  who  live  in  this  lodge  had  failed  for  so  long  a  time  to  do  so. 
I  desire  that  he  siiall  as-sist  them  at  all  times  and  be  a  coworker  with 
them."  Answering  the  old  woman.  Dehodyadgaowen  said:  "I  will- 
ingly confirm  this  proposition,  if  it  be  that  he  himself  is  freely 
willing,  ami  that  of  course  he  will  Noliinteer  to  have  his  life  pounded 
(in  a  mortar).  'I'hen,  as  you  know,  it  will  be  possible  for  him  to  help 
them  continually."     ^\■ith  this  he  ceased  speaking. 

Keturniiig  to  the  grou})  comprising  the  party  of  Dehaenhyowens. 
the  old  woman  said  :  "  llatch'kw  i'  I  (  Heboid  I),  wilt  thou  confirm  the 
proposition  that  thou  shall  remain  here  alone  while  thy  companions 
i-eturn  to  thiur  own  boniest  If  thou  wilt  be  willing  to  agree  to  this. 
1  will  give  thee  a  new  name.  This  shall  be  the  name  by  which  they 
shall  liei-eafter  habitually  call  thee,  namely,  I)aga'e""da'  (i.  e.,  the 
'J'liaw,  or  the  \\'arm  Spring  AVeather)."  This  member  of  ihe  party 
of  Dehaenhyowens  rei)lied.  "  I  willingly  agree  to  this  proposal;  1  am 
(|uite  willing  to  !)('  an  assistant  to  them  in  their  work."  To  this  the 
old  wdiiian  aiiswei'cd:  ''I  am  much  pleased  that  the  matter  is  now 
settled.  W\'  iiulcetl  ha\e  become  of  one  opinion,  having  one  pui-pose 
in  view." 

-\t  this  linii'  I  )chodyadgaowen  iiiterrui)ted  by  saying.  '"Now.  then. 
do  you  bring  his  i)erson  (body  I  in  to  this  room,  aiul  let  him  at  once 
be  iirf]iai-ed  for  his  duties."  The  old  woman,  addi'essing  the  visitor 
who  hail  consented  to  renuiin.  said,  "Come!  The  time  has  arrived 
for  iloing  what  yoii  have  agreed  to  do  for  us.  what  you  requii'e  to  lit 
voii  for  yoiir  new  duties."  Accordingly,  the  man  entered  the  i-oom 
whi<-h  adjoined  the  one  in  which  he  and  his  friends  were,  and  in 
which  aboile  Dehodyadgaowen.  .Vs  soon  as  he  had  entered  Dehoilyad- 
gaowen  said  to  him:  "Here  stands  the  moi'tar.  Thou  nmst  place 
thyself  in  il.  Now.  \erily.  thou  shalt  change  thyself,  thy  person,  as 
to  the  kind  of  its  Hesh."  Obeying  his  instiaictoi-.  the  uum  at  once 
placed  himself  in  the  hollowed  end  of  the  mortar  wherein  the  gi'ain 
was  usually  ])ounded.  whereupon  Dehodyadgaowen  drew  near,  and 
taking  up  the  pestle.  ])ound;'d  him  in  the  mannei-  in  which  giiiin  is 
pounded,  striking  three  blows.  Having  ilone  this,  he  said  to  the 
visitor:  "Thy  flesh  has  now  changi-d  in  kind.     The  task  is  accom- 


624  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ax.n.32 

plished.  Thou  mayst  sing  to  try  thy  voice."  The  transformed  man 
began  to  sing,  and  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  one  remaining  friend 
heard  the  singing,  which  sounded  to  them  exactly  like  the  voice  of 
approaching  thunder,  only  that  the  volume  was  somewhat  less,  as  it 
seemed  to  them.  They  said  one  to  the  other,  ''  Now  it  is  known  that 
he,  Daga'e°"da',  is  appi'oaching,"  and  soon  their  transformed  friend 
reentered  the  room. 

In  a  short  time  thereafter  the  old  woman  said  to  the  men  of  the 
lodge,  now  including  the  newly  transformed  person  :  "  You  shall  now 
start  on  your  journey,  and  j'ou  shall  begin  to  make  mellow  and  moist 
anew  all  the  things  that  are  growing  on  the  earth  beneath.  And 
this,  moreover,  shall  be  done.  Daga'e""da'  shall  take  the  lead.  So 
it  shall  be  he  whom  they  who  dwell  on  the  earth  below  shall  name 
first  in  the  spring  of  the  year.  Of  course  the  human  being  will  say, 
'  Now  the  warm  wind  has  come  down ;  now  the  hot  spring  wind  blows 
again ;  and  so  now  the  spring  season  will  come  upon  us.'  They  shall 
never  forget,  indeed,  each  time  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
snowtime  and  the  summertime  arrives,  for  Daga'e""da'  shall  continue 
to  change  the  days  and  nights  of  the  future.  You  men  must  start  to 
accompany  part  of  the  way  homeward  those  who  have  been  visiting 
us  for  so  many  days." 

Before  they  got  started  she  resumed  her  discourse,  saying:  "Now 
I  will  tell  you,  who  are  human  beings  of  the  earth,  tiiat  it  is  even  I 
whom  you  call  the  Nocturnal  Light  Orb  (the  Moon).  And  He  it  is 
whom  you  and  your  ancestors  have  called  Deaufihyawagon,  some- 
times Hawenniyo  (the  Master  or  Ruler),  who  has  commissioned  me. 
And  this  is  what  He  has  commissioned  me  to  do:  When  it  becomes 
dai'k  on  the  earth  it  is  I  who  shall  cause  it  to  be  in  some  measure 
light  and  warm  on  the  earth,  so  that  it  become  not  too  cold  nor  too 
dark;  so  that  all  the  things  which  shou.ld  grow  may  grow  unharmed 
on  the  earth,  including  all  those  things  on  which  you  human  beings 
live,  dwelling  as  you  do  on  the  earth  beneath.  Until  the  time  that 
the  earth  shall  stand  no  ir  re  He  has  commissioned  me  to  act  and 
to  do  my  duty.  It  is  thus  with  us  all.  He  has  commissioned  us 
only  for  the  time  during  which  the  earth  beneath  shall  endure. 
Moreover,  I  will  now  iinjxart  to  you  the  following  information  so 
that  you  ongwe  (human  beings)  living  on  the  earth  shall  know  that 
they  who  abide  here  in  this  plat'e  are  tliose  whom  you  call  Hadiweii- 
noda'dye's  (the  Thunderers) ;  and  so  that  you  shall  know  that  He  who 
established  this  world  is  One  whom  you  call  Deaufihyawagon  and 
also  HaweAni'yo  (the  Ruler  or  Disposer).  It  was  He  who  deci-eed 
that  these  men  shall  customarily  come  to  the  lower  world  from  the 
west  and  that  they  shall  move  toward  the  east. 

"  So  let  this  be  a  sign  to  you  who  dwell  on  the  lower  earth  that 
when  it  comes  to  pass  that  these  men  of  Thunder  come  from  the  east 


S^^IA:]  LEGENDS  G25 

_VOU  shall  know  at  once  its  inciuiing,  and  shall  say  one  to  another, 
'Now  it  seems  that  the  time  is  at  hand  in  wiiich  He  will  take  to 
pieces  the  earth  as  it  stands.'  \'erily,  snch  is  the  strict  manner  in 
wliJI'li  lie  has  commissioned  us,  char<rinf(  us  with  definite  duties.  It 
is  well  known  that  the  Diurnal  Iji<?ht  Orb  (the  Sun)  customarily 
comes  from  one  certain  direction ;  in  like  manner,  it  is  also  tnie  of 
me,  for  1  too  must  ai)pear  to  the  lower  world  from  one  certain  di- 
rection. This  obliiifation  on  our  part  is  fixed;  and  our  cominj;  shall 
never  occur  in  a  dilferent  manner  as  long  as  the  earth  enchires — at 
least  until  tiuit  day  in  the  future  when  lie  himself,  whom  you  call 
sometimes  IlaweuniVo,  shall  transform  what  lie  himself  has  es- 
tablished. 

"Now  the  time  has  arrived  foi-  you  to  start  for  your  home:  but 
first,  before  you  depart,  you  must  journey  about  this  up]ier  world 
to  see  everything  that  may  be  beneficial  to  ynu  and  to  your  people  in 
the  days  to  come.  By  the  time  you  return  from  this  journey  of 
observation  I  will  have  made  ready  what  you  shall  take  with  you 
when  vou  .shall  go  again  to  make  mellow  and  wet  the  earth  bo!i(>ath. 
This,  too,  upon  which  1  am  at  work  is  something  about  which  1 
must  tell  you  something.  I  am  engaged  in  making  myself  a  mantle, 
and  the  material  out  of  which  1  am  weaving  it  is,  indeed,  what  you 
tliink  it  is — human  hair.  '\'ou  have  observed  as  well  that  each  timr 
I  lay  my  work  a.side  for  a  moment  my  small  cur  as  often  uiuloes 
quite  all  that  I  have  done.  I  will  now  tell  you  by  what  means  I 
obtain  the  human  hair  of  which  1  am  making  mysi'lf  a  mantle. 
When  some  human  being  dies  on  the  earth  below  one  hair  from  his 
head  detaches  itself  and  de])arts  thence,  coming  directly  to  me.  It 
is  such  hairs  that  I  am  using  in  making  my  mantle.  This  serves  as 
a  sign  to  me  that  one  has  ceased  to  be  on  the  earth  below,  and  that 
that  person  is  traveling  hither.  This  shall  continue  as  long  as  the 
earth  beneath  shall  endure  and  have  form.  Moreover,  mark  this 
well,  that  when  He  shall  cause  the  death  of  human  beings  on  the 
earth  below,  it  shall  then  and  not  before  be  po.ssible  for  me  to  finish 
the  mantle  on  which  I  am  working:  and  the  number  of  hairs  in  this 
mantle  will  then  bear  witness  to  the  number  of  persons  who  have 
visited  the  earth  below  while  it  lasted.  Now  you  may  take  an 
observation  trip," 

Thereupon  the  men  of  the  lodge  and  the  entire  party  of  Dehaen- 
hyowens  started  out  to  view  the  notable  things  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
lodge.  They  went  to  that  place  where  for  the  first  time  during  their 
visit  they  had  seen  the  beauty  and  [)leasantness  of  that  upper  world  : 
they  admired  the  strawberry  plants,  bearing  luscious  berries,  as 
tall  as  the  high  grasses  among  which  they  grew;  these  were  in 
bloom,  for  their  bearing  season  was  continuous.  They  saw,  too.  the 
growing  trees  full  of  fine  blossoms;  never  before  had  they  seen  such 
04(n.'"— n; — 40 


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

beautiful  flowers,  which  supplied  the  light  of  that  upper  world; 
and  they  saw  the  plants  and  the  shrubs  and  bushes  full  of  fruits  of 
all  kinds,  all  growing  luxuriantly.  Never  before  had  they  seen  paths 
so  fine  leading  in  various  directions;  and  they  beheld  along  (^ese 
paths  the  trees  whose  overhanging  boughs,  loaded  with  blossoms, 
were  scented  with  all  manner  of  fragrance. 

They  beheld  all  figures  of  human  beings  (on'gwe)  promenading 
along  the  paths  from  place  to  place,  but  they  realized  that  these  were 
shades  (or  shadows),  and  that  consequently  it  was  not  possible  to 
hold  convei-sation  with  them.  Farther  along  in  their  ramble  they 
came  to  a  village  which  was  inhabited,  there  being  many  lodges  in 
different  places  in  the  mamier  of  a  village  of  human  beings.  In 
passing  through  the  village  one  of  the  hosts,  addressing  Dehaen- 
hyowens,  said :  "  In  this  lodge,  standing  here  apart,  your  mother 
dwells.  She  was  still  on  the  eai'th  below  when  3'ou  and  your  party 
left  on  this  joui-ney;  but  she  started  for  this  country  soon  after  you 
had  departed  therefrom.  Here  also  dwell  your  relations — all  those 
who  were  able  to  observe  the  customs  of  their  ancestors  during  the 
time  they  dwelt  on  the  earth  below." 

Then  they  went  back  to  the  place  where  the  old  woman  awaited 
their  return.  On  entering  the  lodge  they  said  to  her:  "  "We  have  now 
returned  from  our  ramble,"  to  which  she  replied :  "  I  have  quite  com- 
pleted my  preparations.  Now  you  must  start  on  your  joui-ney 
homeward,  and  the  men  of  the  lodge  will  accompany  you  part  of  the 
way.  In  going  home  you  must  pass  around  by  the  place  where  abides 
the  I.,ight  Orb  that  travels  by  day.  Let  them  see  Him  too.  May  your 
dreams  foreshadow  your  safe  arrival  home." 

Thereupon  they  departed  from  the  lodge  of  the  old  woman.  Not 
far  distant  from  the  home  of  their  hosts  there  stood  a  lodge.  One  of 
their  hosts  told  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  friends  that  that  was  the 
lodge  of  the  Sun.  "Thence,"  they  said,  "he  starts  to  give  light  to 
the  world  beneath  this  one."  Having  reached  the  lodge,  they  entered 
it,  and  within  they  saw  the  Sun  engaged  in  cooking  chestnut-meal 
mush.  One  of  the  men  of  Thunder  said:  "  We  are  now  on  our  jour- 
ney, accompanying  these  human  beings  part  of  their  way  home.  We 
are  taking  these  men  back  to  the  earth  below  this  one.  The  reason 
that  we  have  come  around  this  way  is  that  we  desired  to  have  yon 
and  them  see  one  another."  Then  the  Master  of  the  lodge,  raising 
his  voice,  said  to  his  visitors:  "  It  is  I,  indeed,  who  has  met  with  you. 
and  it  is  I  whom  you  habitually  call  in  your  ceremonies, 
'  Ho'sge°'age"dagowa,  He-the-Great-War-Chief,  and  our  Elder 
Brother,  the  Diurnal  Orb  of  Light.  I  have  just  completed  my  usual 
preparations  for  the  journey  on  which  I  am  about  to  start.  Further- 
more, just  as  soon  as  you  depart  hence  I  will  start  on  my  journey  to 
make  the  earth  below  light  and  warm  again." 


^'iZ'^]  LEGENDS  627 

In  a  short  time,  the  visitoi-s  having  seen  all  tliat  was  interesting 
in  the  lodge,  said :  "  Let  us  now  go  hence  on  our  jouiney,"  and  they 
at  once  resumed  their  own  course.  They  had  not  gone  very  far  when 
the  men  of  Thunder  said:  "It  is  now  time  for  us  to  begin;  Dag- 
a'e"'d;i'  shall  be  the  first  one  to  act."  Dagri'e'''da',  the  former  mem- 
ber of  the  party  of  Dehaenhyowens  (Light  Hays?),  began  to  sing  in 
a  loutl  voice,  thus  setting  his  orenda  to  work  to  carry  out  his  function. 
Then  the  two  human  beings  who  were  to  return  to  the  earth  below 
saw  the  earth  in  the  distance  beneath  them,  aiul  they  heard,  too.  the 
people  dwelling  on  the  earth  say :  "  Now  the  beginning  of  the  Spring 
Season  has  come  upon  us.  Indeed,  the  Spring  Wind  is  blowing 
■warm  and  hot,  and  now,  too.  the  Tlumders  are  singing  in  the  dis- 
tance." 

Then  the  party  moved  on.  Looking  down  on  tlie  earth  from  above 
the  sky  and  the  clouds  they  saw  the  elfect  of  the  singing  of  the 
Thunder  men.  At  this  time  the  voices  of  the  Thunder  men  sounded 
loud  and  angry,  as  it  were,  as  they  moved  along  the  sky,  and  on  the 
earth  below  fell  torrents  of  rain  with  great  force,  and  they  saw  the 
creeks  and  ri\ers  swell  and  oveidow  their  banks. 

To  the  human  beings  of  the  party  they  had  not  gone  very  far,  as 
it  seemed,  when  they  were  startled  by  alighting  on  the  earth.  There- 
upon one  of  the  Thunder  men  said  to  them:  "Now,  indeed,  you  are 
again  at  your  homes  whence  y(Ui  departed,  so  we  ha\e  fully  dis- 
chai'ged  om-  oliligation  to  bring  you  safely  back.  Moreover,  we  will 
now  tell  you  something  regartling  another  matti'i'.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  the  former  inhabitants  of  this  count ly  witlidrew  from  liere 
and  went  to  anothei-  settlement,  '^'oii  will  tint!  them  in  the  ])hice 
where  they  are  now  li\  ing." 

IIa\ing  conducted  their  frieiuls  some  dislance  on  the  ground,  one 
of  the  men  of  Thunder  said:  "■  A\'e  will  now  separate  one  from 
another.  You  must  keei)  us  in  remembrance.  For  this  purpose  vou 
shall  employ  the  native  toliacco.  making  an  oll'ering  thereby  in  words 
and  in  acts.  This  will  be  (|uite  sullicient  for  tlie  purpose,  for  we 
shall  hear  the  thanksgiving  and  accei)t  the  olTering  at  once.  In  like 
manner  shall  it  be  doiu>  to  all  those,  and  only  to  those,  who  are 
charged  by  Ilim  with  duties  and  imi)ortant  functions.  If  you 
shovdd  think  of  Ilim  or  of  them,  that  is  the  chief  and  essential 
thing — the  employment  habitually  of  native  tobacco  by  you  in  this 
important  matter.  Such  is  the  method  which  you  who  still  live  on 
the  earth  here  below  nuist  regularly  eni])loy  in  forming  your  messages 
of  thanksgiving.  Such  is  the  regulation  and  decree  ordained  and 
promulgated  by  Him  whom  you  call  Deaufihyawagon.  familiarly  as 
Ilawenni'yo  (He,  The  Master).  These  are  the  words  which  we 
thought  it  necessary  for  you  to  hear  before  we  separated  one  froui 
another.     May  you  have  good  dreams." 


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

Then  the  two  parties  separated,  the  one  from  the  other;  and  the 
men  of  Thunder  departed  from  the  earth,  going  back  into  tlie  cloud- 
land  to  their  own  lodge. 

In  turn  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  lone  companion  started  from  the 
place  where  they  had  been  left.  The_v  were  not  long  in  finding  the 
traces  of  the  former  home  of  their  friends.  They  found  that  the 
place  had  become  thickly  overgrown  with  large  trees  to  so  great  an 
extent  that  one  unacquainted  with  the  facts  would  be  in  doubt 
whether  or  not  anj'  person  had  ever  lived  in  that  place. 

On  seeing  this,  Dehaenhyowens  said  to  his  companion :  "  Verily,  it 
seems  that  we  must  depend  on  ourselves  to  find  our  people.  We  must, 
therefore,  go  to  seek  the  place  where  they  now  dwell."  Thereupon 
they  started,  directing  their  course  eastward,  as  they  had  been  in- 
structed. At  no  great  distance  they  saw  the  smoke  from  a  village  and 
made  their  way  to  it.  On  entering  the  first  lodge  they  reached, 
Dehaenhyowens  said,  "  We  have  now  returned  home."  In  reply  the 
master  of  the  lodge  said:  "Whither  did  you  go,  and  who  are  you? 
As  for  myself,  I  do  not  know  you."  Answering  him,  Dehaenhy- 
owens said :  "  Have  you  not  at  any  time  heard  the  tradition  which 
saj's  that  a  number  of  men  (three  tens)  started  on  a  journey  along 
the  path  of  the  Sun — a  party  formed  by  Dehaenhyowens  and  Gaen- 
hyakdondye,  two  famous  war  chiefs,  of  men  who  had  thoroughly 
habituated  themselves  to  warlike  exercises?  They  undertook  while 
going  toward  the  sunset  to  kill  and  scalp  all  the  peoples  whom  they 
might  encounter  on  their  way."  The  master  of  the  lodge  said  to  them 
in  reply :  "  I  myself  know  nothing  of  the  matter  about  which  j'ou 
are  speaking.  When  such  a  thing  may  have  taken  place  I  do  not 
know.  It  may  be  that  the  old  woman  living  in  yonder  lodge  may 
know  about  this  matter.  You  should  go  over  to  consult  her  concern- 
ing it." 

So  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  companion  passed  on,  going  to  the 
lodge  pointed  out  to  them.  On  entering  the  lodge  Dehaenhyowens 
said  to  the  old  woman:  "Do  you  know  the  circumstance  in  the  his- 
tory of  your  people  when  in  the  long  ago  some  men — warriors,  three 
times  ten  in  number — went  on  an  expedition  from  which  they  never 
returned?  The  party  was  formed  by  war  chiefs,  Dehaenhyowens 
and  Gaenhyakdondye.  They  went  toward  the  sunset,  following  the 
path  of  the  Sun."  Answering  his  question,  the  old  woman  said :  "  It 
is  indeed  true  that  .such  an  event  took  place.  I  have  heard  my  de- 
ceased grandmother  say  many  times  that  when  she  was  still  a  child 
men  to  the  number  of  30  started  out  on  an  expedition,  but  they 
never  returned  to  their  homes."  After  some  moments  of  thought 
she  added:  "Probably  the  man  who  dwells  yonder  in  that  lodge 
not  far  away  from  here  remembers  the  whole  matter,  for  he  has  had 
an  exceedingly  long  life,  and  so  is  probably  familiar  with  the  tradi- 


CUETI 
HEWIT 


^•j  LEGENDS  629 


tion  about  wliich  you  spoiik.  TluTeforc  you  would  better  visit  liim 
and  seeiv  furtlicr  information  froiu  iiiin." 

Thereupon  Deliaenhyowens  and  his  companion  apain  started  on 
their  (juest  for  some  one  wlio  knew  tliem.  On  reaehing  tlieir  new 
destination  tliey  found  the  very  old  man  of  whom  tlie  old  woman 
had  spoivcn,  and  they  asked  him :  "  Do  you  remember  an  affair,  which 
took  place  many  years  ago,  in  whirii  warrioi-s  to  tlie  n\nnber  of 
30  departed  hence  on  an  expedition  along  ti.,  path  of  the  Sun?" 
After  a  few  moments  of  reflection  the  old  nuin  replied:  "I  remem- 
ber the  matter  full  well.  This  is  what  happened:  There  lived  a 
people  yonder,  .^ome  distance  away,  where  this  atfair  took  place. 
There  were  a  number  of  young  men  who  had  grown  up  together, 
all  about  IG  years  of  age;  30  of  these  organized  themselves  into  a 
war  party,  binding  themselves  together  by  means  of  an  oath  or  vow. 
Having  fully  organized  their  troop,  they  caused  the  people  of  tiie 
entire  community  to  assemble  at  the  Long  Lodge  of  public  gather- 
ings, whereupon  Deliaenhyowens  arose  and  said:  'Now  then,  it  shall 
be  made  known  to  you  who  have  assembled  here  that  we  have  indeed 
completed  our  jireparations.  We  young  men.  who  are  three  tens 
in  number,  have  enlisted  by  "notching  the  stick"  to  go  on  an 
expedition  along  the  path  of  the  Sun.  We  have  made  the  agreement 
strong,  for  we  have  commingled  our  minds.  Now  it  is  as  if  w-e  had 
only  a  single  iiead,  only  a  single  body  of  flesh,  only  a  single  life, 
and  we  shall  bleed  as  one  person.  Moreover,  we  renounce  our  kin- 
dred, and  we  also  forswear  our  lives.  We  shall  now  depart  hence, 
directing  our  course  toward  the  West,  for  we  desire  to  make  a  journey 
to  the  place  of  tiie  sunset — to  the  jilace  where  tlie  Diurnal  Light 
Orb  is  wont  to  make  his  way  to  and  tro.  ()ur  band  have  appointed 
me  and  my  dear  brother  to  be  their  chiefs  to  lead  them.  We,  too, 
have  made  a  solemn  vow  that  no  matter  what  tiie  situation  con- 
fronting us  we  will  nevertheless  pass  onwai'd  in  our  journey.  We 
have  indeed  enlisted  in  this  matter  sei'iously  l)y  '■  noti'hing  the  stick." 
This  is,  of  course,  as  you  well  know,  tlie  jtledgc  that  each  one  of  us 
will  do  what  we  have  agreed  to  do  one  with  another.'  Thereuiion, 
they  departed  from  us.  and  tlicy  lia\f  nc\cr  i-etui-ned." 

Dehaenhyowens,  rejjlying  to  the  old  man.  said.  "  Ilow  long  ago 
may  it  be  since  that  event  took  place?"  The  old  man  answered,  "  It 
is  now  three  generations  ago — that  is,  three  generations  have  passed 
away  since  that  time."  Then  Dehaenhyowens  asked,  "  Who  were  the 
chiefs  of  those  who  departed?"  The  old  man  said,  "  Dehaenhyowens 
and  his  brother,  (iae"'hyakdon'dye' ;  these  two  persons  were  chosen 
as  the  chiefs  of  the  party."  To  this  Dehaenhyowens  resi)onded, 
"  Verily,  grandsire,  we  are  the  remaining  members  of  that  party— 
my  brother,  Gae"'hyakdon'dye',  our  friend  Daga'dye',  and  I ;  so  many 
of  the  number  have  now  returned  home.     It  was,  verily,  our  party 


630  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  AN.v.32 

that  departed  from  the  place  where  your  and  my  people  formerly 
dwelt,  at  that  place  yonder  not  far  away."  But  the  old  man,  still 
doubting  what  he  had  heard,  said:  "  It  is  probably  not  you  who  went 
away,  because  it  appears  from  your  youthful  asj^ect  that  you  have 
just  reached  manhood,  and  that  event  occurred  a  very  long  time  ago." 
Dehaenhyowens,  however,  answered:  "Nevertheless,  we  are  the  vei-y 
persons  who  started,  at  least  those  of  us  who  still  are  left  alive;  and 
we  have  now  arrived  home  again."  On  hearing  this,  the  old  man 
said :  "  If  possible,  then,  do  tell  me  the  name  of  the  chief  of  our 
people  when  you  departed."  Dehaenhyowens  quickly  answered, 
"  Dagiiidoii'dye'  was  the  name  of  the  chief  of  our  people  at  that 
time."  Now  convinced  of  what  he  doubted,  the  old  man  answered: 
"  That  statement  is,  indeed,  also  true.  The  fact  that  he  was  my 
grandfather  is  the  reason  why  I  am  so  fully  acquainted  with  that 
matter.  Now,  I  admit  that  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  indeed  you 
and  your  friends  who  depai'ted  so  many  years  ago,  and  that  it  is  you, 
too,  who  have  returned  home;  and  as  it  is  meet  so  to  do,  our  present 
chief  shall  now  be  made  cognizant  of  this  matter.  So  remain  here 
in  this  lodge,  and  I  will  now  send  him  word  of  your  return,  to  await 
his  pleasure." 

According]}'  the  chief  was  made  acquainted  with  the  matter  at 
once.  Forthwith  he  sent  out  runners,  giving  notice  to  all  the  people 
to  assemble  immediately  in  the  Long  Lodge  of  public  meetings  to 
hear  news  most  startling  and  important;  he  set  the  following  day 
for  the  assembly  of  the  people.  When  the  morning  of  the  next  day 
dawned  all  the  people,  having  made  the  necessary  preparations  to 
attend  the  great  council,  hurriedly  gathered  in  the  assembly  hall. 
Dehaenln'owens  and  his  two  companions  went  there  in  company 
with  his  host,  the  old  man,  whose  grandfather  was  a  former  chief 
of  his  people.  The  assemblage  was  large,  for  everyone  who  could 
possibly  leave  home  attended.  AVhen  all  were  seated  the  chief  ai"ose, 
and  ceremoniously  greeted  the  newly  arrived  men  in  these  words: 
■'  We  have  learned  only  a  hint  of  what  occurred  during  your  expedi- 
tion, and  we  desire  fervently  to  know  more  of  the  events  which  took 
place  while  you  have  been  absent.  So  now  we  shall  listen  to  the 
whole  account,  and  we  will  hear  the  leader  of  the  party." 

Thereupon  Dehaenhyowens  arose,  amidst  deep  silence,  and  spoke 
briefly,  as  follows :  "  There  were  30  of  us  who  started  on  the  expe- 
dition along  the  path  of  the  Sun ;  but  only  three  of  us  have  returned. 
It  is  I  who  bear  the  name  Dehaenhyowens.  On  this  hand  sits  my 
brother,  Gae"'hyakdon'dye",  for  such  is  the  name  that  he  bears:  and 
on  this  hand  sits  our  friend,  Daga'dye",  for  such  is  the  name  that  he 
bears.  So  many  only  are  we  who  survive.  It  came  to  pass  during 
the  time  of  our  expedition  along  the  path  of  the  Sun  to  the  skyland 
that  one  of  our  number  remained  there  as  an  assistant  to  the  people 


CtlETIN 
HEWITT. 


;]  LEGENDS  G31 


in  that  far-away  land.  It  is  quite  impossible  for  him  to  return  again 
to  this  earth  to  live."  Then  Dehaeiihyoweiis  related  at  great  length 
all  that  had  occurred  to  him  and  his  party  and  all  the  things  that  they 
had  seen  from  the  time  they  had  left  their  homes  until  their  return. 
After  speaking  thus  Dehaenhyowens  resumed  his  seat. 

The  chief  then  said:  "It  was  in  fact  a  marvelous  thing  that  was 
done  by  your  party.  It  is  a  very  long  time  since  you  departed  from 
your  homes;  but  now  you  have  returned,  only  you  tiiree  persons. 
Of  course,  one  of  the  most  essential  things  about  this  matter  t&  be 
remembered  is  that  Deaunhyawa'gon,  sometimes  called  Hawefmi'yo, 
forewilled  that  you,  and  only  you,  should  be  enabled  to  i-eturn  home 
safely.  Preparations  have  been  made  so  that  we  may  now  exchange 
greetings,  and  this  shall  be  done.  You,  the  surviving  ones  of  the 
party,  three  in  number,  will  take  a  suitable  position,  and  I  will  take 
the  lead  in  a  ceremonial  greeting  to  you:  for  I,  of  cour.se,  stand  in  the 
stead  of  the  one  who  was  the  chief  of  the  people  when  you  dejtarted. 
My  name  is  Daga'idofi'dye'.  Then  we  will  do  this:  We  will  mutually 
and  severally  stroke  one  another's  body  in  greeting.  This  ceremony 
shall  be  for  all  persons,  including  our  children — we  will  all  greet  one 
another  in  this  ceremonial  manner,  for  this  was  the  custom  of  our 
fathers  on  such  occasions." 

Accordingly  Dehaenhyowens  and  his  two  friends  took  suitable 
positions  in  which  to  receive  the  greetings  of  the  people,  and  the 
people  with  the  chief  in  the  lead  came  forward  and  cordially  .stroked 
their  bodies  according  to  the  custom.  All  the  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren arose  and  greeted  them.  When  the  ceremony  was  over  the  chief 
said:  "We  will  do  in  the  future  all  the  things  that  we  have  today 
learned  should  be  done.  This,  too,  you  shall  laiow — you  who  have 
just  returned  home — that  we  shall  be  equal  with  you  in  the  enjoy- 
ment and  disposition  of  the  things  that  we  possess,  so  that  our  minds 
and  yours  shall  think  in  peace.  Here,  you  know,  dwell  the  people, 
and  now,  of  course,  we  again  shall  commingle  and  associate  together. 
Everything  is  in  readiness  for  us  to  rejoice  and  be  happy,  seeing 
that  you  have  returned  home  in  safety  and  health.  The  first  thing 
to  be  done  is  to  make  merry  by  a  game.  They  whose  bodies  are 
strong  will  play  at  a  game  of  lacrosse  ball;  thus  shall  they  amuse 
your  minds,  and  you  may  rejoice.  When  that  shall  have  passed  we 
shall  dance,  beginning  with  the  Pigeon  Song,  or  Song  of  the  Pigeons. 
When  that  is  passed  it  will  be  time  for  us  to  disperse  to  our  homes." 
Thereupon  Dehaenhyowens,  arising,  said :  "  It  is  marvelous  to  know 
that  we  have  been  absent  from  our  people  during  three  generations; 
and  we  are  rejoicing  that  we  have,  though  much  fewer  in  numbers, 
returned  to  our  homes.  We  are  indeed  very  happ}-  that  we  are  again 
one  people  with  you." 


632  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.33 

Then  the  young  men  went  to  the  public  gaming  grounds  and  tliere 
engaged  in  an  exciting  game  of  lacrosse  ball.  "When  this  game  was 
over  the  people  assembled  in  the  Long  Lodge  of  public  meetings 
and  there  they  performed  the  ceremony  of  the  Song  of  the  Pigeons. 
They  danced  all  the  songs  of  this  ceremony,  which  is  quite  long  and 
exciting.  Even  the  children  danced  to  show  their  pleasure  at  seeing 
the  returned  men. 

(This  is  the  end  of  the  story.) 

120.  An  Address  of  Thanksgiving  to  the  Powers  of  the  Master 

OF  Life  *" 

We  congratulate  one  another  this  day  because  we  are  still  alive  in 
this  world. 

Besides  this  act  we  give  thanks  to  the  Earth,  and  we  give  thanks 
also  to  all  the  things  which  it  contains.  Moreover,  we  give  thanks 
also  to  the  Visible  Sky.  We  give  thanks  also  to  the  Orb  of  Light 
that  daily  goes  on  its  course  during  the  daytime.  We  give  our 
thanks  nightly  also  to  the  Light  Orb  that  pursues  its  course  during 
the  night. 

So  now,  we  give  thanks  also  to  those  persons,  the  Thunderers, 
who  bring  the  rains.  Moreover,  we  give  thanks  also  to  the  servants 
of  the  ]\Iaster  of  Life,  who  protect  and  watch  over  us  day  by  day 
and  night  by  night. 

And  now.  furthermore,  we  send  our  thanks  also  to  his  person,  to 
the  Finisher-of-our-lives.  To  him  our  thanksgiving  we  offer  in 
fervent  gratitude. 

And  now  a  ceremony  shall  begin,  a  ceremony  which  was  given  to 
us,  to  mankind,  by  the  Finisher-of-our-bodies — namely,  the  ceremony 
of  the  Great  Feather  Dance. 

So  let  everyone  be  enthusiastic,  then,  in  this  ceremony.  We  must 
enjoy  ourselves  as  much  as  possible  during  this  ceremony.  It  was 
given  to  us  for  the  puipose  of  benefiting  us  in  its  performance  in 
honor  of  him,  the  Master  of  Life,  who  gave  it  to  us,  and  we  must  all 
do  what  is  right  and  just  one  to  another,  and  we  also  must  continue 
to  give  thanks  to  the  Master  of  Life  for  the  good  things  which  we 
enjoy  at  his  hand. 

So  now  will  begin  the  singing  of  the  songs  of  the  Ritual  of  the 
Great  Feather  Dance.  So  let  each  and  every  one  share  in  it,  then. 
[At  this  point  the  singers  on  the  song  bench  begin  singing  the  songs 
of  this  ceremony.  All  who  take  part  should  be  arrayed  in  festival 
attire.  The  faces  of  the  dancers  should  be  painted,  and  their 
heads  should  be  adorned  with  feather  headdresses.  When  this  cere- 
mony is  ended  the  Master  of  Ceremonies,  arising,  makes  the  follow- 
ing statement:] 


^IZ'^]  LEGENDS  633 

"  So  now,  niore(JVcr.  in  stu-li  an  assembly  of  people  as  this  is.  another 
ceremony  is  about  to  begin,  one  other  that  the  Finisher-of-our-Iives 
has  onhiinod  for  our  i)i>rforniance.  So,  then,  let  us  he  tluuilcful, 
moreover,  that  our  lives  and  persons  are  still  spared  in  the  all'airs  of 
this  world. 

"  So  now,  moreover,  (his  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  for  the  bounties  it  has  reeei\ed  from  the  Master  of  Life. 

"  So  now,  moreover,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks.  'l"he  Ma.ster  of  Life  has  willed  that  there  be  officers  among 
the  people  whose  duty  it  is  to  promote  the  celebration  of  the  Si.\ 
Ceremonies.  So  we  give  thanks,  too,  that  you  who  are  oflicuals 
among  the  people  are  still  s|)and  your  lives. 

'•So  now,  moreover,  this  assembly  of  i)eople,  such  as  it  i.s.  is  giving 
thanks  for  the  bounties  it  lias  rereiviMJ.  lie,  the  Master  of  Life,  willed 
that  there  shall  be  certain  persons  among  men  who  shall  he  called 
chiefs  (because  their  renown  is  great),  and  that  upon  them,  further- 
more, shall  rest  tlie  grave  responsibility  of  promoting  i)eace  and 
health  among  the  i)et)ple,  and  also  that  u])on  them  shall  rest  the  rc- 
.sponsibility  of  making  addresses  of  thanksgiving  at  the  celehratitms 
of  the  Thanksgiving  Ceremony,  in  which  they  shall  direct  their  words 
to  the  Maker-and-hnisher-of-our-lives,  at  the  same  time  earnestly 
urging  all  perj^ons  to  enjoy  themselves  there  and  to  be  happy. 

''So  now,  moreover,  this  assemi)ly  of  ]H'(iple.  such  as  it  is.  is  giv- 
ing thanks.  The  Creator-of-our-lives  willed  that  there  shall  be  in 
life  two  varieties  or  kinds  of  life,  one  of  which  shall  be  called  Female 
and  the  other  shall  be  called  Male.  He  willed  that  by  this  means 
mankind  shall  see  the  coming  of  humanity  (through  the  birth  of 
chihlren).  So,  therefore,  we  give  thanks  that  this  ceremony  or  rite 
of  the  union  of  two  kinds  of  life  is  going  on,  just  as  he  decreed  that 
mankind  should  live  in  paiis  -male  and  female.  So.  therefoie,  we 
(;ll'er  ui)  thanks  because  we  have  our  eyes  on  our  otLspring  who  are 
coming,  differing  in  size,  to  us. 

"So  now,  too.  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  be  an  earth  continually.  So 
let  us  give  thanks  that  the  processes  of  the  earth  go  on  in  accordance 
with  his  rule,  and  that  we  human  beings  are  traveling  about  over  it. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  asseml)ly  of  i)eo[)k',  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks 
this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  be  springs  of  water,  and  that 
there  shall  he  waters  that  flow.  So,  too,  we  give  thanks  because 
there  ai'e  wateis  that  flow  as  ordained,  and  because  there  are  spi'ings 
of  water  likewise,  which  ai'e  for  our  comfort  as  we  go  to-and-fro 
over  the  earth. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  peojile.  such  as  it  is.  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed,  too,  that  'I  will  bestow  that  on  which 
they  shall  live — corn,  and  that  it  shall  grow  in  its  seasons.'     So  then. 


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

let  US  now  give  thanks  because  we  have  again  set  our  eyes  on  all 
those  things  upon  which  we  live.  We  are  thankful  that  we  again 
see  all  these  things. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  continue  to  grow  on  the 
earth  all  manner  of  herbs,  and,  too,  that  these  shall  be  for  use  as 
medicines,  which  shall  be,  each  and  every  one,  a  succor  and  support 
to  the  people ;  they  shall  be  for  medicine. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  grow  various  kinds  of 
flowers  on  the  earth,  and  that  among  these  shall  gi"ow  continually 
strawberries.  So,  too,  let  us  give  thanks  because  these  are  for  our 
pleasure  and  contentment. 

"So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  gi^^ng 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  grow  shrubs  on  the 
earth  continually,  and  that  all  these  shall  be  for  medicines  for  man- 
kind at  all  times.  So,  too,  let  us  give  thanks  that  these  are  giving  us 
perfect  satisfaction  and  comfort,  and  because  these  shrubs  are  our 
own  aid  and  sustenance. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is.  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  other  shrubs  and  trees  in  groves 
shall  ever  grow  to  maturity  on  which  various  fruits  and  berries  shall 
ever  hang  in  abundance.  So,  too,  let  us  give  thanks  because  these 
fruit-bearing  shrubs  and  trees  grow  continually,  giving  us  at  all 
times  abundantly  contentment  and  pleasure. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  be  forests  that  shall 
continually  reproduce  themselves  by  growth,  which  shall  continue 
to  be  at  all  times  helpful  to  mankind,  '  whom  I  have  placed  on  the 
earth.'  So.  too,  let  us  be  thankful  that  our  minds  are  contented  for 
the  reason  that  the  forests  grow. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  in  the  forests  which  shall  continue 
to  grow  there  shall  live  and  increase  all  manner  of  game  animals  in 
utmost  variety.  So,  too,  let  us  give  thanks  for  this  bountiful  pro- 
vision, because  in  full  measure  and  number  the  game  animals  are 
abundant  in  the  growing  forests,  as  intended  by  him,  and  they  are 
ever  the  full  means  of  giving  us  pleasure  and  contentment  while  we 
dwell  on  the  earth. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  be  growing  forests  in 
which  there  shall  be  certain  trees  from  which  (maple)  sap  shall 
habitually  fall  in  its  season.  So,  too.  let  us  give  thanks  because  there 
still  grow  here  and  there  maple  trees,  for  we  still  can  look  upon 
maple  sugar. 


CORTI 
HEWITT 


^]  LEGENDS  635 


"  So  now.  too.  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is.  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  lie  willed  that  there  shall  be  brakes  of  great  herbs 
on  which  shall  grow  sunflowers  continually  in  their  season,  and  tiiat 
these  shall  serve  to  iji\e  pleasure  and  contentment  to  mankind  dwell- 
ing on  the  earth. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is.  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed,  'I  shall  place  a  duty  on  certain  persons 
to  care  for  and  watch  over  the  earth,  and  they  shall  cause  rain  to 
fall  habitually,  and  the  rain  shall  prosper  all  the  things  that  grow 
out  of  the  earth,  and  these  persons  shall  habitually  approach  from 
the  west,  and  people  will  call  them  Our  Grandsires.  whose  voices  are 
heard  from  place  to  place — the  Thunderers.' 

"  So  now.  too.  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is.  is  giving 
thanks  this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  ever  be  a  Sky,  on  which 
there  shall  ever  appear  a  Light  Oib  which  will  go  about  from  place 
to  place  as  day  succeeds  day,  and  ])eople  shall  call  this  orb  of  light 
the  Sun.  So,  too,  let  us  be  thankful  that  we  see  each  day  that  the 
light  orb  moves  on  in  its  co\n-se. 

"  So  now,  too,  this  a.ssembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks 
this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  be  darkness  by  periods  of  a 
certain  length,  and  that  in  the  sky  there  shall  ever  appear  a  Light 
Orb  which  shall  ever  go  from  place  to  place,  and  which  human  beings 
will  call  the  Nocturnal  Orb  of  Ijight — the  ^loon.  So,  too,  let  us  be 
thankful  because  nigiit  after  night  we  see  this  orb  of  light  holding 
to  its  course,  and  know  that  our  Creator  so  decreed  it. 
.  "So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks 
this  day.  He  willed  that  there  shall  ever  be  a  Sky.  and  that  in  it 
there  shall  be  Stars  li.xed  from  place  to  place.  So.  too.  let  us  l)e 
thankful,  because  we  see  these  stars  night  after  night,  just  as  our 
Creator  has  decreed  that  it  shall  be. 

'■  So  now,  too.  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is.  is  gi\  iiig  thanks 
this  day.  He  willed  that  tliere  shall  be  Persons  who  shall  guard 
mankind  fruiii  iiarin  by  day  and  by  night.  So.  too.  let  us  be  tliankful 
that  tiiese  Four  Persons  protect  us  daily  and  nightly. 

"  So  no\v,  too,  this  assembly  of  jieople,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks. 
He  willed  that  just  and  righteous  acts  shall  be  the  means  of  making 
us  true  men  and  women.  So.  too,  let  us  be  thankful  because  his 
words  are  being  carried  out  on  eai'th. 

"  So  now,  too.  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks 
this  day.  He  willed  (hat  in  thanksgiving  addresses  the  celebrant 
must  offer  thanks  to  all  things,  beginning  with  these  on  earth  and 
ending  with  the  jserson  of  the  Master  of  Life.  So.  too.  let  us  be 
thankful  that  we  have  now  rendered  to  our  Maker  our  thanks  for 
the  bounties  of  life. 


636  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [kth.  an.v.  32 

"  So  now,  too,  this  assembly  of  people,  such  as  it  is,  is  giving  thanks 
this  clay.  He  willed  that  there  shall  be  persons  who  shall  have  the 
ability  to  sing  the  songs  of  the  Great  Feather  Dance,  which  were 
bestowed  on  us  by  our  Creator.  So  now  we  thank  you,  Singers,  who 
have  this  power  and  who  have  so  well  again  performed  your  duty, 
a  duty  which  is  not  an  easy  one. 

"May  all  the  people  here  enjoy  peace  and  health  until  the  time  for 
the  next  celebration  of  this  ceremony,  which  is  fixed  at  a  future  day. 
Live,  then,  in  peace  and  health.     I  end." 

121.  A  Corn  Legend  and  a  Flood  Story 

There  is  a  story  that  in  ancient  times  there  occurred  a  great 
calamity,  which  was  caused  by  a  rain  that  lasted  three  months. 
The  result  of  this  long  rain  was  that  the  waters  rose  high  and  soon 
flooded  the  whole  extent  of  the  dry  land.  Only  one  man  was  saved. 
He  climbed  a  tree  to  save  himself  from  the  waters. 

The  waters  rose  high  in  every  place  except  on  one  tract  of  land 
on  which  .stood  a  village  of  about  six  families,  from  which  all  the 
game  had  disappeared;  so  the  people  of  these  families  had  nothing 
to  eat.  This  village  was  situated  on  the  bank  of  a  small  stream 
where  grew  a  large  number  of  slippery-elm  trees.  The  absence  of 
all  other  food  compelled  the  miserable  wretches  to  strip  the  bark 
from  these  trees  to  use  as  food.  They  dried  the  bark  and  then 
pounded  it  into  a  kind  of  coarse  meal,  which  they  mixed  with  water 
to  make  a  sort  of  bread  to  satisfy  their  hunger. 

During  this  terrible  time  of  scarcity,  one  night  when  all  others 
were  fast  asleep  one  of  the  yoimg  men  of  the  small  village,  being 
awake,  heard  some  person  walking  with  very  heavy  tread.  He  was 
not  moved  to  fear  by  this  experience,  so  he  decided  not  to  inform 
his  companions  of  what  he  had  heard.  For  30  successive  nights  he 
heard  this  tramping  and  walking  to  and  fro,  as  he  surmised.  But 
the  young  man  had  been  thinking  deeply  on  the  meaning  of  the 
sounds  he  had  been  hearing  night  after  night,  and  on  the  morning 
of  the  day  following  the  thirtieth  night  he  informed  his  companions 
that  some  person  was  about  to  pay  them  a  visit.  The  sounds  of  the 
walking  had  appeared  to  him  to  come  from  the  east. 

Not  long  after  this  the  people  realized  the  truth  of  what  he  had 
told  them,  for  a  strange  woman  "'  came  to  their  lodge.  No  one  knew 
whence  she  came,  for  they  were  surrounded  by  water,  and  there  was 
no  land  in  sight.  The  strange  woman  did  not  remain  at  this  lodge, 
but  went  directly  to  the  lodge  of  the  brother  of  the  young  man 
who  had  heard  her  walking.  When  the  brother,  who  had  been 
outside  the  lodge,  reentered  it  he  found  the  woman  seated.  He  had 
never  before  seen  another  woman  like  her,  for  she  was  beyond  meas- 


CfRTIN 
BBWITT, 


;]  LEGENDS  G37 


life  attractive  in  pcr.son,  in  inaniu>r,  and  in  her  woi'ds  and  actimis. 
The  brother  (jiiestioned  her,  asking  hei-  whence  she  came  and  whither 
she  was  going.  The  woman  replied:  "  I  liave  come  from  the  sonth  to 
assist  you  and  your  people  in  obtaining  food  for  your  needs.  I 
came  because  my  mother  sympathizes  greatly  with  her  people,  and  it 
is  she  who  has  sent  me  here  to  become  the  wife  of  your  elder  son." 
Answering  her,  the  man  said :  "  It  seems  \ery  strange  that  your 
mother  should  send  you  here,  but  of  course  she  probably  knows  that 
we  are  in  despair,  e.xpccting  nothing  but  death  from  hunger  and 
starvation."  I5y  way  of  reply  to  this  the  young  woman  asked  :  "  A\'ill 
you  gi-ant  me  the  pleasure  of  having  my  mother's  recjuest  fulfilled'^  " 
The  man,  whose  mind  had  already  begun  to  hojie  for  l)etter  things 
for  his  ])eople,  replied.  ""I'es:  her  re(]Ui'st  will  be  granted,  and  you 
will  become  the  wife  of  my  son."  She  did  becouie  his  witV.  and 
they  lived  as  husband  and  wife. 

The  bi'ide  wife  the  next  nioi'iiing  said  to  licr  lirother-in-law :  •■  "^'ou 
must  have  the  corn  bins  cleared  out  and  leady,  just  as  if  you  expected 
to  use  them  for  storing  corn."  The  brother-in-law  at  once  told  his 
sister  to  clear  out  the  corn  bins  just  as  if  they  expected  to  store  corn 
in  them.  Having  done  this,  the  f'ster  informed  her  sister-in-law 
that  they  were  ready.  The  younger  brother  exclaimed:  "I  am  glad 
that  our  family  has  increased."  At  the  dawn  of  day  the  next 
morning  the  people,  awakening  as  if  they  had  been  frigiitened,  heard 
sounds  which  indicated  that  corn  was  falling  into  their  corn  bins, 
which  had  been  empty  so  long.  Some  hardly  In'licNcd  tlieir  ears,  and 
doubted  that  they  had  received  so  much  corn  freely.  So  when  the 
bride  wife  asked  that  corn  be  prepared  and  cooked,  her  husband  told 
his  sister  to  make  it  ready,  although  in  liis  mind  he  felt  that  his 
wife  had  said  this  just  because  she  knew  well  tiiat  they  liad  nothing 
to  eat  and  nothing  with  which  to  prepare  anything. 

Then  the  bride  wife  said  to  lier  brother-in-law  :  "  You  go  (o  tlie  ri\cr 
and  catch  for  us  some  fish,  so  that  we  may  have  fish  to  eat  with  our 
corn  bread."  But  the  young  man  replied:  "It  is  strange  that  you 
should  think  that  there  are  fish  in  the  river,  for  I  have  not  seen  one 
there  for  many  months."  But  the  woman  insisted  that  he  should  go, 
saying:  "You  will,  however,  find  fish  there."  He,  in  some  doubt 
still,  answered:  "  \'erv  well.  I  will  go.  although  I  know  that  I  shall 
not  find  any  fish  there."  Finally  he  went,  as  she  had  asked  him  to 
do.  for  the  sake  of  his  ]ieo])le.  On  reaching  the  stream  he  saw  a  fish ; 
it  was  indeed  the  first  he  had  seen  since  the  great  rainstorm  had  be- 
gun. He  planned  his  measures  so  well  that  he  caught  the  fish.  whi(-h 
was  very  large,  and  at  once  started  for  the  lodge.  Arri\ing  there,  he 
said  that  it  was  the  only  fish  he  saw.  The  bride  wife  said :  "  This 
is  the  fish  I  meant.  Now  your  sLster  will  clean  it  and  place  it  in  the 
kettle  to  cook  it."    When  the  sister  was  told  to  get  some  corn  and 


638  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

to  prepare  it  for  cooking,  she  said :  "  I  have  indeed  cleared  out  the 
bins;  all  are  empty,  and  not  a  cob  is  left  on  the  poles  on  which  hung 
the  corn  strings.  Before  this  terrible  rain  came  we  had  an  abun- 
dance, but  now  we  have  not  even  a  kernel  for  seed;  all  has  indeed 
strangely  disappeared."  The  brother  insisted,  however,  on  her  going 
to  the  bins,  saying:  "Go  to  see  what  you  can.  I  heard  a  strange 
sound  at  dawn  this  morning,  the  sound  of  falling  grains  of  corn." 
To  satisfy  him  the  sister  went  to  the  bins  where  she  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  find  enough  to  fill  both  hands  full.  Delighted  at  finding  even 
this  small  quantity,  the  girl  retui-ned  and  set  to  work  preparing  the 
corn  for  pounding  into  meal.  It  was  not  long  before  she  had  pre- 
pared and  cooked  a  loaf  of  corn  bread  about  two  spans  of  the  hand 
in  circumference. 

W  lien  the  bride  wife  was  informed  that  the  loaf  and  the  -fish 
were  ready  to  eat  she  said:  "  You  must  invite  all  your  neighbors,  so 
that  each  may  have  a  portion  of  what  you  have  cooked.  You  will 
cut  the  loaf  into  as  many  portions  as  there  are  persons  in  this  village, 
and  you  must  divide  the  tish  in  the  same  manner."  This  was  done. 
When  the  people  who  had  gathered  together  in  response  to  the  in- 
vitation were  all  seated,  the  elder  son  of  the  family,  the  bridegroom, 
arose  to  speak.  He  said:  "The  Master  of  Life  has  gladdened  our 
hearts  with  this  loaf  of  bread  and  with  this  fish,  the  kind  of  food 
we  ate  before  tliis  water  surrounded  us.  It  must  indeed  be  the  will 
of  the  Master  of  Life  that  we  should  live.  Before  this  young 
woman  came  to  our  lodge  we  expected  to  starve  to  death,  and  it  is 
she  who  has  invited  evei\y  one  in  this  village  to  come  here  to  eat 
this  food.  In  the  future,  therefore,  it  shall  be  the  custom  that  when 
anj'one  shall  have  good  fortune  in  his  hunting  or  fisliing  he  shall 
pi'epare  a  feast  to  which  all  his  neighbors  shall  be  made  welcome." 
His  sister  was  told  to  serve  all  the  people  who  liad  come.  It  seemed 
impossible,  however,  that  even  a  small  mite  of  fish  or  bread  could  be 
given  to  each  of  so  many  persons.  But  after  she  had  begun  to  serve 
out  the  bread  and  the  fish,  she  found  that  she  could  do  this  with 
what  she  had;  and  all  were  satisfied.  There  indeed  seemed  to  be 
only  a  spoonful  of  broth  in  which  the  fish  wa.s  cooked,  but  all  were 
given  a  drink  out  of  it  and  grew  strong.  The  woman  received  the 
thanks  of  the  people  for  the  food  which  she  had  brought  to  them. 
What  they  had  received  seemed  enough,  and  it  was  their  opinion  that 
this  was  an  example  for  them  to  follow,  so  they  declared :  ''  Here- 
after, if  we  obtain  anything  good  to  eat,  it  shall  be  shared  equally 
by  all.    Such  shall  be  our  custom." 

Then  the  bridegroom's  brother  informed  the  people  that  the  bride 
desired  the  people  to  go  to  their  homes  and  clear  out  their  corn  bins, 
just  as  if  they  were  expecting  to  fill  them  with  grain,  and  that  they 
must  act  at  once  in  tliis  matter.    So  the  people  quickly  returned  to 


ZZ't-vI  legends  639 

tlu'ir  lodfres  to  cariT  out  the  hride's  request.  Duriiiir  tlie  following 
ni^ht  the  youn<r  man  who  hixd  lirst  heard  the  walkiiisi  of  the  .still  un- 
known woman  a<:ain  heard  the  .'^ound  made  by  falling  corn  grains. 
In  the  moriung  the  ])eople  of  the  several  lodges  found  their  corn 
bins  well  supplied  with  corn,  and  thev  were  greatly  rejoiced  at  this 
good  fortune.  Tiien  an  old  woman,  one  of  the  near  neighbors  of  tho 
bride,  said:  "I  will  ask  the  young  woman  whence  she  came  to  us,  so 
that  we  may  know  who  it  is  that  has  been  so  kind  and  merciful  to 
us."  So  going  to  the  lodge  of  the  newly  married  couple  she  addressed 
the  bride,  saying:  '"I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  tell  us  whence  you 
came  to  us  T'  The  britle  willingly  replied:  ''I  came  from  the  south, 
where  my  mother  lives.  She  knew  of  your  destitute  condition  and 
felt  very  miserable  about  it,  hence  she  sent  mc  to  marry  this  young 
man.  He  indeed  knew  that  I  was  coming  before  I  arrived  here.  My 
mother  sent  me  on  this  errand  so  that  I  could  protect  you  by  pro- 
viding for  your  most  pressing  needs."  Replying,  the  old  woman  said : 
"I  am  thankful  and  so  are  all  my  neighbors  that  your  niothei'  was 
moved  to  pity  us  by  seeing  our  distressing  condition  and  destitution; 
it  is  through  her  that  we  shall  live.  We  are  indeed  grateful  to  her  and 
to  you  for  fulfilling  your  duty  in  the  matter."  Thus  it  was  made 
clear  to  all  the  people  to  whom  they  owed  their  good  fortune.  They 
saw  then  (hat  it  was  through  the  liride  and  her  mother  that  the  bare 
corncobs  that  hiuig  in  the  corn  stacks  were  again  filled  with  grains 
of  corn,  and  that  their  corn  bins  were  again  full  of  grain. 

After  this  there  came  a  time  when  the  bridegroom's  younger 
brother  began  to  dislike  his  sister-in-law,  and  he  sought  in  many 
ways  to  abuse  her,  saying  rude  things  to  her  at  times.  At  lirst  the 
sister-in-law  paid  no  attention  to  his  abuse.**-  One  day  she  made 
bread  from  corn  grits,  and  she  gave  a  loaf  of  it  to  her  ho.stile  brolher- 
in-law.  saying:  "T  have  made  tiiis  for  you."  But  he  seized  it  rudely, 
e.xclainiing:  "Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?  I  w^ill  not  eat  such  bread 
as  that;  it  is  not  fit  to  eat."  With  these  words  he  tossed  the  loaf  of 
bread  into  the  fire.  "Without  a  word  of  remonstrance  t  he  young  woman 
cast  her.self  down  on  her  couch  and  covered  her  head  in  sorrow:  and 
she  remained  thus  until  her  husband  returned.  At  once  he  asked  the 
cause  of  her  sorrow.  At  first  she  refused  to  tell  him.  Finally, 
however,  he  prevailed  on  her  to  do  so.  She  said:  "Lately  vfiur 
brother  abuses  me  at  e\ery  opportunity.  I  made  him  bread  of  the 
best  material  I  had.  and  he  sneeringly  threw  it  into  the  fire.  So  I 
will  go  home  to  my  mother.  If  you  desire  to  accompany  me.  vou 
may  do  so.  It  will  r('(|uire  as  much  time  for  me  to  return  to  luy 
home  as  it  required  to  come  here.  When  my  mother  sent  me  she  did 
not  expect  me  to  return  to  her  home  again.  But  I  must  go,  and  all 
that  I  brought  with  me  shall  go  back  with  me.  All  is  due  to  your 
brother's  fault.     This  is  why  I  am  sorrowful."     Her  husband  was 


640  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [iin,  ans.  32 

deeply  f^rievcd  :it  the  i)r()s|i('(t,  for  his  people,  and  he  soufjlit  to 
per!siiii(i(^  his  wife  to  chiiiifre  her  resolndoii,  Imt  lie  could  not  induce 
her  to  rcniain. 

In  the  evening,  having  completed  her  preparations,  she  started  on 
hei-  return  journey,  saying  (o  hor  husband:  "Wlien  you  are  hungry, 
follow  my  trail.  You  shall  encounter  many  difliculties,  but  you  must 
not  falter  by  the  way.  At  all  times  keep  in  mind  that  you  are  going 
to  your  wife.  You  must  not  sto])  to  rest  either  day  or  night.  80 
take  courage  and  do  not  falter.     Now  I  go." 

Inuring  that  night  all  the  people  heard  the  sound  of  falling  grains 
of  c(UMi,  which  dro[)])i'(l  from  the  cobs  hanging  on  the  strings  of  ears. 
'J'he  ne.xt  morning  the  bridegroom  asked  his  sister  to  go  for  corn, 
yhe  went  as  directed,  but  found  the  corn  bins  empty  and  the  corn- 
cobs bare.    This  was  true,  indeed,  of  all  the  lodges  of  the  village. 

The  night  following  the  morning  whicii  showed  the  people  that  all 
their  coi'ii  had  mysteriously  disa))pcared  the  old  wonum  who  iiad 
asked  the  strange  young  woman  whence  she  Inul  come  visited  the 
lodge  of  the  lone  britlegroom  and  asked  him  where  his  wife  was. 
lie  told  her  that  she  had  retui'ncd  to  the  lodge  of  her  mother  because 
of  the  al)Mse  wiiicli  his  bi'othei'  had  lieapcd  on  hei',  and  that  all  the 
good  things  which  she  had  brougiit  with  her  luul  gone  away  with  her; 
and  he  told  the  old  woman  further  that  it  was  all  due  to  his  brother's 
fault.  He  said  that  his  wife  could  not  punish  the  culprit  witliout 
punishing  all  the  people,*'''  and  that  he  could  do  nothing  m  the 
matter. 

The  dii'eful  ])light  of  the  village  caused  the  bridcgi'oom  to  re.solve 
to  follow  his  wife  to  her  home  to  leai'n  whether  it  were  i)ossible  to 
relieve  the  distress  of  his  people.  After  making  some  necessary 
|>r('pai'ations,  he  started  out  on  the  tT-ail  of  his  wife.  As  he  followed 
it  he  found  that  there  was  a  well-dclincd  |)ath  on  the  waters  wliicii 
eTitirely  surrounded  liis  people.  W'licii  he  started  on  this  {perilous 
(rip  (h(>  husliMud  remembered  wliat  his  wife  had  said  (o  him  about 
tlie  dilliculties  of  the  journey,  and  what  he  must  do  to  <>\ercome  them; 
so  he  ke|)l  on  his  way  by  day  and  by  night  without  stopping-  At 
all  times  he  could  plainly  sec  her  trail,  which  a|)pcarcd  as  if  it  had 
just  been  made. 

In  tli(^  meanwhile,  when  he  started  his  mother-in-law  said  to  her 
daughter,  who  hatl  returned  home:  "Your  husband  is  coming  to 
you  and  to  us;  he  has  now  hd't  the  home  of  his  i)eoi)le."  It  is  said 
that  his  mother  in-law  could  hear  his  footsteps  as  he  followed  the 
trail. 

As  his  wife  had  (old  him  to  gi\e  no  thought  (o  (he  gieat  dilliculties 
of  (he  way,  he  kept  them  out  of  his  mind;  he  did  not  realize  (he 
great  length  of  (ime  he  was  on  the  journey.  After  many  days  he 
I'eached  a  cornlield,  and  by  this  sign  he  was  delighted  to  know  that 


^IZ'^]  LEGENDS  641 

ho  was  very  near  his  journey's  end.  Stopping  for  a  moment  and 
lookinj^  around  he  saw  a  cohimn  of  sinoUe  risiiijj;  from  the  mithlhi 
of  the  cornfield,  and  he  al  once  decided  tiiat  it  nnist  come  from  the 
lodge  of  his  mothei--in-hiw ;  thereupon  he  went  directly  toward  it. 

IIaviii<;  arrived  in  front,  of  ti>e  doorway  he  was  gladly  surprised 
to  hear  the  voice  of  his  mother-in-law  from  the  inside  saying  to 
iiim:  "Come  in,  my  son-in-law."  On  entering  the  lodge  he  saw 
his  wife  and  was  made  welcome  hy  her  and  his  mother-in-law. 
His  wife  said  to  him:  "  You  have  done  my  bidding,  and  1  am  pleased 
that  you  have.  Is  it  not  good  to  see  our  cornfield  so  exuberantly 
filled  with  rich  ears  of  corn?  And  is  it  not  pleasant  to  thiidc  that 
we  can  live  here  in  peace  and  comfort?  15eiiig  faithful,  you  shall 
be  prosperous."  The  mother-in-law,  who  knew  that  he  was  ap- 
proaching, had  ready,  cooked  and  ]>rei)ared,  a  largo  bark  bowl  full 
of  oniasont  (crook-necked  squash),  which  she  hastily  set  before  him 
without  reserving  any  portion  of  it.  When  he  had  eaten  his  fill  he 
thanked  her  and  the  Source  of  All  I^ife.  He  remained  in  the  lodge 
of  his  mother-in-law  until  the  growing  corn  had  ripened.  Then  he 
said:  "  I  thirdv  that  it  is  time  for  me  to  bo  going  back  to  my  people. 
I  can  now  be  of  some  service  to  them."  His  wife  said  to  him :  "  Your 
brother,  who  found  pleasure  in  abusing  mo,  is  dead;  he  died,  indeed, 
of  hunger  and  starvation.  It  is,  indeed,  too  bad  that  he  had  so  evil 
a  disposition."  The  husband  replied :  "  I  do  not  mourn  for  him, 
for  he  knew  well  what  ho  was  doing  when  he  heaped  abuse  on  you." 
,  The  wife  answered:  "  You  will  find  your  people  still  without  food. 
You  must  be  very  cautious  on  the  journey.  I  am  afraid  that  you 
may  be  overcome  on  the  way."  Thereupon  siio  told  him  of  a  number 
of  aninuds  wiiich  he  would  find  along  the  path,  and  which  did  not 
exist  until  after  the  second  creation.  The  waters  of  the  great  fiood 
had  then  gone  down,  and  the  earth  had  become  new.  She  gave  him 
food  for  his  people;  also,  for  seeding,  one  ear  of  corn  of  each  va- 
riety, some  beans  of  each  variety,  and  one  squash,  which  his  people 
must  use  for  seeding  their  land.  The  wife  gave  her  husband  also 
provisions  for  his  journey,  leady  cooked  for  eating  cold.  She  cau- 
tioned him  not  to  stop  on  the  way,  le.st  he  be  overcome  by  the  evil 
powers  which  infested  IIk^  pathway  to  his  iiome.  Then  (hey  parted 
affectionately. 

The  husband  started  homeward,  lie  encountered  many  obstacles 
and  imknown  beasts  and  animals  on  the  way;  but  at  last  after  many 
days  of  travel  without  stopping  to  rest,  he  safely  reached  his  home. 
He  found  there  only  low  timber  and  bushes  and  weeds  growing. 
On  arrival  at  his  own  lodge  he  gave  a  few  kernels  of  corn  to  each 
family,  saying:  "This  corn  shall  bo  the  chief  source  of  sustenance 

MCIS"— 10 41 


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

of  the  people  hereafter."  In  like  manner  he  did  with  each  of  the 
several  kinds  of  seeds  which  he  had  brought  back  with  him.  It  is 
from  these  seeds  that  were  propagated  all  the  food  plants  which  the 
human  race  had  in  ancient  times. 

122.  The  Legend  of  Man's  Acquisition  of  Corn 

(A    SENECA-TtTTELO    LEGEND) 

In  ancient  times  there  was  a  village  situated  on  the  banks  of  a 
river.  The  chief  source  of  subsistence  of  the  people  was  the  natural 
products  of  forest  and  stream — that  is  to  say,  game  and  fish,  berries 
and  various  edible  roots  and  tubers. 

There  came  a  day  when  the  people  dwelling  in  this  village  were 
told  by  an  old  woman  that  she  heard  the  voice  of  a  woman  singing 
on  the  river :  and  she  told  them  further  that  the  words  used  by  this 
strange  singer  were:  "Luxuriant  and  fine  are  the  planted  fields 
where  I  dwell,  going  to  and  fro.  Luxuriant  and  fine  are  the  planted 
fields  which  we  have  planted.  My  grandmother  and  my  ancestors 
have  planted  them." 

After  hearing  this  singing  for  10  nights  the  old  woman  said  to 
her  family  and  neighbors :  "  Let  us  go  out  to  see  what  this  singing 
means;  perhaps  some  woman  has  fallen  into  the  water,  and  it  may 
be  she  who  is  singing  in  the  middle  of  the  river."  They  did  go  to 
the  river  bank,  but  saw  nothing,  and  they  returned  much  cha- 
grined at  their  failure  to  discover  the  singer. 

On  the  tenth  night  following,  the  woman  again  began  to  sing, 
seemingly  from  the  middle  of  the  river  not  very  far  from  the 
village.  Again  she  sang:  "Luxuriant  and  fine  are  the  planted  fields 
(of  corn)  where  I  dwell,  going  to  and  fro.  Luxuriant  and  fine  are 
the  planted  fields  (of  corn)  which  we  have  planted.  My  grand- 
mother and  my  ancestors  have  planted  them."  Then  the  women  of 
the  village,  going  to  the  river  bank  for  three  nights,  sang  songs  of 
welcome  and  recognition,  and  on  the  third  night  these  women  per- 
ceived that  the  singer  on  the  river  had  drawn  nearer  to  them.  On 
the  fourth  night  the  women  watching  with  their  children  on  the 
river  bank,  and  singing  in  response  to  the  singing  on  the  river, 
were  surprised  to  see  coming  toward  them  a  large  number  of  women. 
Thereupon  one  of  the  girls  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  grandmother,  do  not 
let  these  women  seize  us,"  and  the  children  fled  from  the  place.  But 
the  spokeswoman,  who  was  the  eldest  person  present,  said:  "I  alone 
shall  remain  here  to  await  whatever  may  befall  me.  and  I  do  so 
because  my  granddaughter,  who  is  coming,  is  in  need  of  pity  and 
aid." 


ClKTl 
HEWITT. 


^^]  LEGENDS  6-13 


At  this  the  woman,  the  iiiidbtreaiii  singer,  exclaimed:  "•Oil,  my 
grandmother!  take  me  hence.  I  am  not  able  to  go  there  (where  j-oii 
now  are)."'  Then  the  grandmother  (so  called  by  the  courtesy  of  clan 
kin.ship)  placed  her  canoe  of  birch  bark  in  the  stream  and  soon  by 
rapid  piwldling  reached  the  side  of  the  young  woman  who  had 
1)0011  singing  in  midstream.  She  found  her  gianddaughter  lying  on 
the  back  of  a  beaver,  which  mysteriously  lield  her  above  the  water. 
The  granddaiigiitcr  was  tiie  lirst  to  spealv,  saying:  "Oh,  my  grand- 
mother I  take  me  hence."  'J'iie  grandmother,  replying:  "Oh,  my 
grandchihl  1  yotir  wish  shall  be  fuililitHJ."  at  once  proceeded  to  place 
her  granddaughter  in  the  canoe,  nhw  which  she  headed  for  tlw 
shore  of  the  stream,  paddling  to  the  landing  place  in  a  short  time. 
When  they  had  landed,  the  young  woman  said:  "Oh,  grandmother! 
now  leave  me  here.  1  will  remain  here,  and  you  must  come  after 
me  in  the  morning.  iTothing  shall  haj)pen  me  in  the  meantime." 
The  grandmother  at  once  returned  to  her  own  lodge,  where,  of  course, 
she  related  in  detail  what  had  taken  place. 

Early  the  ne.xt  morning  she  returned  to  the  landing  place  where 
she  had  left  her  grandilaughter  (by  courtesy).  There  she  saw  only 
the  grtiwing  stalk  of  a  plant.  Drawing  near  to  this  she  found 
growing  on  the  stalk  an  ear  of  corn,  and  breaking  it  off  she  carried 
it  bark  to  her  lodge,  where  she  hung  it  up  on  a  roof-supporting  pole 
hard  iiy  the  fireplace. 

It  came  to  pass  during  the  following  night  that  the  grandmother, 
.so  called,  had  a  dream  or  vision,  in  which  the  young  woman  who 
had  been  singing  in  midstream  said  to  her,  "Oh,  my  grandmother, 
you  should  unhang  me  from  this  i)lace,  for  it  is  indeed  too  hot  here. 
You  shoukl  place  me  in  the  ground — plant  me — and  then  leave  me 
theie:  for  I  will  provide  for  you  and  your  people,  you  human  beings. 
So  kindly  place  me  under  the  ground."  This  dream  came  to  the 
old  woman  three  nights  in  succession.  So  she  took  down  the  ear 
of  corn,  and  after  shelling  it  she  planted  the  grains  of  corn  in  the 
ground  just  as  she  had  been  instructed  to  do  by  the  dream. 

]?ut  on  the  following  night  the  gi-andmother  again  dreamed,  and 
the  young  woman  in  the  dream  said  to  her,  "You  and  your  people 
must  care  for  me.  You  must  not  permit  weeds  to  kill  me.  You 
shall  see  me  sprout  and  grow  to  maturity:  and  it  is  a  truth  that  in 
the  future  all  the  people  who  shall  be  born  will  see  that  I  will  pro- 
vide for  their  welfare.  So  you  must  take  great  care  of  me.  You 
will  see.  you  and  j'our  peo])le,  a  gi-eat  multitude  of  people  who  are 
about  to  arrive  here.  You  will  see,  I  say.  that  I  will  provide  for  all 
during  the  time  the  earth  shall  be  in  existence.  You  shall  now  learn 
what  is  a  well-known  truth — that  is,  that  I  am  corn;  I  am  native 
corn:  I  am  sweet  corn.  I  am  the  first  corn  that  came  or  was  de- 
livered to  this  earth."     For  three  successive  nights  the  grandmother, 


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

SO  called,  had  this  same  dream  or  vision,  hence  she  came  to  regard  it 
as  a  direct  intimation  to  her  regarding  the  disposition  to  be  made 
of  the  corn  on  the  ear  which  she  had  found  on  the  bank  of  the  river. 
So  forcibly  did  the  injunctions  impress  her  that  she  planted  the  corn 
in  the  ground  as  directed;  and  she  carefully  followed  the  directions 
of  the  Corn  Maiden  as  to  the  care  required  by  the  growing  corn  to 
enable  it  to  mature  and  to  prevent  it  being  choked  to  death  by  weeds. 

In  the  autumn  the  old  woman  ***  harvested  her  corn,  and  taking  it 
into  her  lodge  she  divided  it  into  as  many  portions  as  there  were 
families  in  the  village  of  her  people.  Then  she  gave  a  portion  to 
the  chief  matron  in  each  lodge,  telling  each  that  the  corn  should  be 
used  in  the  spring  for  seed  and  also  how  it  should  be  planted  and 
cultivated.  Afterward  she  returned  to  her  own  lodge.  She  was 
greatly  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  her  people  having  something 
which  would  supply  them  with  a  staple  food,  if  they  would  only 
properly  care  for  it. 

In  a  short  time  after  reaching  her  own  lodge  she  lay  down  on 
her  couch  to  rest  for  the  night;  but  she  had  hardly  fallen  asleep 
before  she  had  another  dream,  or  vision,  of  the  Corn  Maiden.  In 
this  dream  the  Corn  Maiden  said  to  her :  "  You  must  tell  my  children 
(the  human  beings)  that  they  must  not  waste  in  any  manner  the 
corn  which  shall  grow  to  maturity  in  the  future.  It  is  well  known 
that  those  who  do  not  honor  and  properly  care  for  me  invariably 
come  to  want  and  destitution ;  for  unless  they  act  so  toward  me  when 
I  leave  I  shall  take  all  the  corn  and  other  seed  away.  And,  grand- 
mother, you  must  tell  all  these  things  to  your  people  and  kindred." 

Some  time  after  this  event  the  old  woman  said  to  her  nephew  ( ?) : 
"  Do  not  travel  around  from  place  to  place,  for  it  is  a  well-known 
fact  that  there  are  beings  roaming  about  which  have  the  disposition 
to  overcome  and  destroy  men  by  the  exercise  of  their  orenda."  But 
the  nephew  (?)  replied:  "Oh!  there  is  nothing  going  about  from 
place  to  place  which  has  the  power  to  kill  men." 

Then  there  came  a  time  many  days  after  this  that  the  Corn  Maiden 
saw  her  brother  arrive  there.  He  was  a  human  being,  tall  beyond 
measure,  and  in  other  respects  of  corresponding  size.  He  said  to 
her:  "Do  you  now  come  forth  (out  of  the  lodge)."  She  obeyed  him 
by  leaving  her  lodge,  whereupon  he  took  her  up  in  his  arms.  He  saw 
there  a  stone  ax  and  an  arrowhead  of  flint.  After  carefully  examin- 
ing these  he  asked :  "  Have  these  things,  simple  as  they  are,  the  power 
to  kill  a  person?  "  She  made  no  reply  to  this  question,  and  the  giant 
departed,  carrying  away  captive  his  youngest  sister.  On  the  way 
she  began  to  sing :  "  Oh,  elder  brother !  have  you  not  been  in  the 
habit  of  saying  that  there  is  nothing  that  roams  about  which  has  the 
power  to  kill  persons?  How  do  you  explain  this? "  Now  the  name 
of  the  person  who  stole  this  woman  is  Do6de°neiiya'ho°' *"  (Ga-men- 


^1^  .  LEGENDS  645 

dji-da'-ka'  is  the  Tiitelo  name).     ('Jiie  refrain  of  the  song  she  sang 
was  the  Tutelo  words,  l)a'ke/l.(/e\  da'-hinge,  wd'hoyd'  en  gi  lo  yot.) 

Another  brother  of  the  Corn  Maiden  (of  the  lodge  of  the  old 
woman)  taking  a  stone  ax  and  a  bow  and  arrows,  and  asking  his 
grandmother  to  follow  him,  said:  "Let  us  two  go  fetch  home  my 
younger  sister."  So  saying,  he  started  in  pursuit  of  Dor)de"nenyri'ho"', 
the  so-called  Stone  Giant,  and  his  gnuulniotiier  followed  him  on 
the  perilous  journey.  His  pursuit  was  vigorous  and  tireless,  and  he 
was  not  long  in  overtaking  Dodde^neiiyfi'lio"'.  Coming  up  to  him, 
he  shot  him  with  a  Hint  arrow,  saying  at  the  same  time:  "I  have 
come  to  bring  back  home  my  younger  sister."  Do6de"nenya'ho"'. 
weeping  with  pain,  said:  "I  confess  my  guilt.  I  did  a  great  wrong 
in  stealing  this  maiden  from  her  home."  Then  he  surrendered  her  to 
her  brother,  who,  taking  his  sister  by  tlic  hand,  started  with  his 
grandmother  for  their  home. 

When  they  had  arrived  at  their  own  lodge  the  young  woman  who 
had  been  kidnaped  by  Do6de"nenya'ho"'  said  to  her  grandmother: 
"You  will  now  prepare  some  food  (bread).  You  will  take  one 
grain  of  corn  from  the  cob  and  pound  it  into  meal.  This  alone  will 
sudice,  it  is  well  known,  to  provide  us  (all  human  l)eings  living) 
with  food  enough  to  satisfy  our  appetites  at  this  banquet  held  in 
celebration  of  the  return  of  the  Maiden  captured  by  Doode"neriya'- 
ho"',  the  Stone  Giant."  When  the  corn  had  been  procured  and  pre- 
pared, the  Maiden  again  spoke,  saying:  "  I  am  about  to  give  a  feast, 
which  shall  be  held  in  my  honor,  and  in  which  you  women  shall 
dance  the  Corn  dances." 

The  feast  was  held  in  accordance  with  her  wishes,  and  the  women 
danced  the  Corn  dances  as  she  directed  them,  and  all  the  i^eoiile  le- 
joiced  with  her.  When  the  feast  of  thanksgiving  was  ended  the 
Maiden  said :  "  Now,  as  for  me,  I  am  starting  on  my  return  to  my 
home.  I  shall  go  back  to  the  place  whence  I  came.  It  shall  be  an 
established  thing  in  the  future  forever  that  corn  shall  exist,  and  that 
mankind  shall  never  again  die  from  starvation.  I  now  go  to  my 
home." 

Thereupon  she  started  away,  going  back  on  the  river  on  which 
she  had  come;  and  as  she  went  along  she  sang  a  song,  the  words 
of  which  were  "We,  the  varieties  of  corn,  beans,  and  squashes,  are 
the  mothers  of  the  peoples  of  the  whole  world."  These  words  she 
sang  to  teach  the  people  what  to  sing  in  their  Corn  dances. 

After  she  had  returned  to  her  home  she  received  a  proposal  of 
marriage  from  0'stawe"'seri'to'''  (Sumac  Tree?).  She  accepted  his 
suit  and  the  two  were  marri«d.  When  they  were  together  the  Corn 
Maiden  said  to  her  husband,  "  You  must  love  me  (that  is,  regard  me 


646  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  ax.v.  32 

as  a  precious  thing) ;"  and  her  husband  assured  her  that  he  would 
indeed  compl_v  with  her  request  and  his  duty. 

Then  they  returned  to  the  lodge  of  Mother  Bean,  which  they 
reached  by  traveling  on  the  river  a  long  distance.  Mother  Bean 
said  to  them :  "  You  two  must  carry  back  with  you  some  beans,  which 
you  must  take  to  that  distant  land,  where  you  shall  leave  them." 
On  their  return  to  their  own  lodge  the  bridegroom  carried  the  beans 
to  that  other  land  in  which  his  wife  had  left  seeding  corn,  and  after 
performing  his  mission  returned  to  his  own  wife  and  lodge. 

Afterward  the  bride  wife  heard  her  sister  singing  beside  a  planted 
field :  "  Is  there  perhaps  anyone  who  will  marry  me  again  ?  let  him 
ask  me."  She  had  not  been  singing  long  when  T'ha'hyofi'n!' 
(Wolf)  replied:  "  I  will  marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me."  To  this 
she  answered:  "If  I  marry  you,  what  will  be  mj'  usual  food?" 
T'ha'hyon'ni'  replied :  "  You  shall  have  meat  for  your  usual  food." 
Her  answer  was:  "  I  shall  die  if  I  am  compelled  to  eat  that  kind  of 
food." 

Thereupon  the  maiden  resumed  her  singing :  "  Is  there  perhaps 
some  one  who  will  marry  me  again?  Let  him  ask  me  to  do  so." 
Nya'gwai'  (Bear)  answered  her:  "I  will  marry  you  if  you  will 
accept  me."  The  maiden  answered :  "  If  I  marry  you  what  will  be 
my  usual  food?"  Nya'gwai'  said  in  reply:  "Your  usual  food  will 
be  various  kinds  of  nuts."  She  said :  "  In  the  event  that  I  am  com- 
pelled to  eat  that  kind  of  food  I  shall  surely  die." 

Again  she  began  to  sing:  "Is  there  perhaps  anyone  who  will 
marry  me  again?  Let  him  ask  me."  While  she  sang  Ne'oge"' 
(Deer)  answered  her:  "I  will  marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me.' 
The  maiden  said  in  reply :  "  If  I  should  marry  you  what  would  be 
ray  usual  food?"  Ne'oge"'  replied :-"  Your  food  would  be  buds 
and  sprouts  and  the  moss  growing  on  trees."  The  maiden's  response 
was:  "In  the  event  that  I  am  compelled  to  eat  that  kind  of  food  I 
shall  surely  die." 

After  thus  refusing  each  of  these  proposals  of  marriage,  once 
again  she  began  to  sing:  "Is  there  perhaps  anyone  who  will  again 
marry  me?  If  tliere  be  one  such,  let  him  ask  me."  While  she  sang, 
expressing  the  impulses  of  her  heart,  a  man  named  Corn  answered 
her  challenge,  saying:  "I  will  marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me, 
for  I  know  that  you  are  circumspect  in  making  your  selection  of  a 
husband."  In  reply  the  maiden  asked:  "If  I  should  marry  you 
what  shall  be  my  usual  food  t"  Corn  answered:  "  If  you  will  marry 
me  your  food  shall  be  corn;  corn  shall  be  your  sustenance."  The 
maiden  replied :  "  I  accept  you,  and  I  am  thankful  for  my  good  for- 
tune in  finding  just  what  I  want.  For  a  long  time  I  have  been  lonely, 
for  I  desired  to  see  a  human  being,  to  be  in  a  position  to  mingle 


f,",',\7^,:]^  LEGENDS  647 

with  mankind."  Willi  tlioc  words  she  ran  forwiinl.  and  throwing 
her  arms  around  him  fondly  emhraced  him,  saying:  •' I  will  share 
with  you  your  fortune  or  misfortune,  whichever  it  be,  wherever  man- 
Uinil  shall  have  charge  of  your  welfare  and  needs,  for  my  grand- 
mother has  appointed  me  to  care  for  mankind  during  the  time  that 
this  earth  shall  endure.  So  it  shall  be  that  they  shall  plant  us 
always  in  one  place.  So  from  one  place  you  and  I  together  shall 
depart  when  the  time  during  which  we  shall  provide  (food)  for 
mankiiul.  as  has  been  appointed  for  us.  shall  expire.  We  must  teach 
them  our  songs  and  dances,  so  that  mankind  may  express  their 
gratitude  when  lihey  shall  gather  in  their  harvests  of  corn  and  beans 
and  sqiuxshes." 

Continuing,  she  said  to  her  husband:  "We  must  instruct  mankind 
with  care  in  this  matter,  so  that  they  shall  do  the  essential  things 
and  sing  the  essential  songs  of  the  A'koriwi"se"".'*"  (the  ceremony  of 
the  Corn  dances).  The  women  and  the  young  maidens  of  both  the 
Father  and  the  Mother  side  in  beginning  this  ceiemony  shall  stand 
on  their  respective  sides  of  the  fire,  forming  in  orderly  lines  with  the 
matrons  of  their  several  clans  as  leaders.  One  side  shall  first  sing 
the  song  which  is  in  order,  and  then  the  other  side  shall  sing  that 
song;  then  they  shall  sing  it  alternately,  while  the  several  leaders  in 
taking  the  lead  must  carry  the  turtle-shell  rattle.  It  is  important 
that  this  shall  be  done  in  order,  and  that  the  rhythm  of  the  songs 
be  not  broken.  When  the  song  has  been  sung  by  both  sides  then  the 
two  line,«  of  women  shall  encircle  the  fire  and  dance  around  it  three 
times.  This  shall  be  done  in  the  case  of  each  song  of  the 
A'konwi"se"'. 

"Now,  the  words  of  the  essential  songs  are  as  follows: 

"(a)  'Coming  hither  I  heard  thciii :  I  hcaid  them  sing  and  dance 
the  A'konwi"se"'.' 

"(6)  '  We  have  now  arrived — we  who  are  about  to  sing  and  dance 
the  A'konwi"se"'.' 

"  (e)  'Among  living,  growing,  unplucked  flowers  I  am  walking 
reverently  (silently,  slowly).' 

"(rf)  '  I  am  now  dancing  among  living,  growing,  unplucketl  flowers 
(blos.soms).' 

"(e)  'We  have  now  returned — we  who  are  corn  dancers  and 
singers — we  who  are  women.' 

"(/)  'You  two  cousins,"'  do  you  now  get  the  bark  bowl  (for 
sprouting  the  seed  corn).  You  two  cousins,  do  you  now  get  the  bark 
bowl.' 

"(S')  'Oh!  the  berries  ha\c  ripene<l.  Oh  I  the  berries  have 
ripened — on  stalk  and  stem.' 


648  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eih.  ann.32 

"(A)  'I  see  (in  vision)  a  beautiful  Spring  season. 

" '  I  see  a  fine  field  of  growing  corn. 

" '  In  the  middle  of  this  field  of  com  there  stands  a  lodge 
of  bark. 

" '  Thei-e  I  see  a  profusion  of  drying  poles  and  racks. 

" '  Thereon  I  see  fine  fat  strings  of  corn  hanging. 

" '  On  these  fine  fat  strings  of  corn  I  see  rich  lively  seed  corn.' 
"  (i)  '  Now,  I  am  walking  along.     I  am  walking  along  giving 
thanks  to  the  Life  God.' 
"  These  are  the  essential  songs  which  mankind  shall  sing." 

123.  The  Bean  Woman  "' 

(A  FEAGMENT) 

In  ancient  times  a  people  dwelling  near  a  river  bank  were  startled 
by  the  sound  of  singing,  which  came  apparently  from  downstream. 
The  voice  was  that  of  a  woman,  and  tradition  says  that  it  was  indeed 
the  Bean-Woman  who  was  singing. 

The  Bean- Woman  sang,  it  is  said,  "Who  shall  marry  me  again? 
Let  him  ask  me  in  marriage?"  The  Panther-Man,  answering  this 
challenge,  said :  "  I  will  marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me  for  your 
husband."  Pausing  in  her  singing,  the  Bean- Woman  asked :  "  If  I 
marry  you  what  shall  be  the  food  which  I  shall  regularly  receive 
from  j'ou  to  eat?"  The  Panther-Man  replied:  "You  shall  always 
have  meat  in  great  plenty  to  eat."  The  Bean- Woman  answered :  "  In 
that  case  it  is  very  probable  I  should  die,  for  I  do  not  eat  that  kind 
of  food  under  any  circumstances." 

Thereupon  the  Bean-Woman  resumed  her  singing :  "  Who  will 
marry  me  again?  Is  there  one  who  is  willing  to  marry  me  again? 
If  so,  let  him  ask  me."  Then  the  Deer-Man  approached  the  Bean- 
Woman  and  said :  "  I  will  marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me  for  your 
husband."  The  Bean-Woman  asked  him :  "  What  food  will  you 
regularly  provide  for  me  to  eat?"  The  Deer-Man  i-eplied:  "Browse 
and  buds  and  the  tender  bark  of  trees,  for  these  are  the  things  which 
I  regularly  eat."  The  Bean-Woman  answered :  "  Such  a  marriage 
would  not  bring  good  fortune  to  me,  because  I  have  never  eaten  that 
kind  of  food."    So  the  Deer-Man  departed. 

Then  the  Bean- Woman  resumed  her  song :  "  Is  there  not  some 
one  who  is  willing  to  marry  me?  If  there  be,  let  him  ask  me?"  As 
she  sang  she  heard  the  Bear-Man  say  to  her :  "  I  will  marry  you  if 
you  will  accept  me."  Whereupon  she  asked  him :  "  What  kind  of 
food  will  you  regularly  provide  for  me  to  eat?"  He  replied :  "  I  will 
provide  you  with  nuts  of  various  kinds,  for  even  now  I  have  many 
bark  receptacles  filled  with  nuts  for  food."  The  Bean-Woman 
replied :  "  In  this  event  I  should  most  certainly  die,  for  I  have  never 


CCBTIN 


;]  LEGENDS  649 


been  in  the  Iiabit  of  eating  that  kind  of  food;  so  I  can  not  accept 
you." 

Without  feeling  disappointed  she  resumed  lier  singing:  "Is  there 
not  some  one  who  will  marry  me  again?  If  so,  let  him  ask  me." 
Then  the  Wolf-Man  approached  her,  saying:  "I  am  willing  to 
marry  you  if  you  will  accept  me."  Once  again  the  Bean-Woman 
asked :  "  If  I  should  marry  you  what  kind  of  food  w-ould  you  regu- 
larly provide  for  me  to  eat  ?"  The  Wolf-IMan  answered :  "  I  will  pro- 
vide you  with  meat  and  venison."  At  this  the  Bean-Woman  said 
with  scorn:  "It  is,  indeed,  quite  proper  for  you  to  offer  me  meat  and 
venison  for  food,  but  I  have  never  had  the  desire  to  eat  meat  which 
has  been  stolen."    Thereupon  the  Wolf-Man  departed. 

The  Bean-Woman  resumed  singing,  as  before:  "Is  there  any  one 
who  is  willing  to  marry  me  again?  If  there  is,  tlicn  let  him  ask  me?  " 
Then  the  Corn-Man,  drawing  near,  said:  "  I  am  willing  to  marry  you 
if  you  w"ill  accept  me."  In  reply  she  asked :  "  If  I  should  marry 
you  what  will  you  give  me  for  my  regular  fooil?  "  Tiie  C'orn-Man's 
answer  was:  "  You  shall  have  sweet  corn  to  eat  at  all  times."  In 
reply  the  Bean-Woman  said :  "  I  pray  that  it  may  so  come  to  pass. 
I  am,  indeed,  thankful  for  this  offer,  f<ir  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
I  am  in  need  of  it."  When  tiie  Corn-Man  had  heard  her  answer,  he 
said  to  her :  "  Come  to  me."  Bushing  forward,  she  threw  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  embraced  him,  saying:  "This  is,  indeed,  a 
condition  established  by  Him  who  sent  us,  by  Him  who  created  our 
bodies,  beginning  with  the  time  when  the  earth  was  new."  They 
dwelt  together  contented  and  happy. 

This  is  the  reason  that  the  bean  vine  is  at  all  times  found  entwined 
around  the  cornstalk. 

124.  Tin:  T^eoend  ok  Onexiia   (the  Conx) 

The  event  related  in  the  following  legend  came  to  pass  in  ancient 
times  in  the  land  inhabited  by  the  Tuscarora ;  and  Corn-A\'()nian 
herself  declared  this  event  to  men. 

In  that  ancient  time  there  lived  in  that  land  a  man  who  was  alone, 
and  who  had  no  kiirftred  or  friends  in  that  place.  lie  became  very 
ill;  so  ill  that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  leave  his  mat  on  the  couch. 
Of  course  there  was  no  fire  in  his  abode  for  lie  was  unable  to  obtain 
fuel  to  keep  a  fire  burning;  Desides  there  was  notiiiiig  for  him  to  eat. 
lie  began  to  be  very  sorrowful,  expressing  his  grief  thus:  "Verily, 
I  have  become  poor  and  miserable  indeed.  I  am  hungry,  too,  and, 
perhaps,  I  shall  die  by  starvation." 

While  he  was  ill  it  was  us\ial  for  him  to  lie  with  his  head  cov- 
ered. There  came  a, day  when  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices,  which 
lie  inferred  were  those  of  women.  TTncovering  his  head  he  listened 
intently  to  learn  something  about  the  voices  he  heard.     Then  he 


650  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.32 

heard  one  woman  addressing  another:  "What  do  you  think  of  tliis 
matter?  The  man  who  dwells  with  us  is  very  ill;  truly  he  is  in  a 
wretched  condition,  and  he  lacks  care  and  attention."  Then  lie  heard 
the  reply :  "  It  is  befitting,  it  would  seem,  that  we  assist  him  at  once 
to  recover  his  health,  for  we  know  that  while  he  enjoyed  good  health 
it  was  customary  for  him  to  respect  and  honor  us  in  his  travels.  This 
is,  indeed,  what  he  was  wont  to  do :  In  whatever  place  he  was  travel- 
ing, on  finding  along  the  trail  one  of  our  sisters  who  had  strayed 
or  become  lost,  and  so  had  become  the  victim  of  want,  he  would 
take  her  up  and  speak  to  her  words  of  pity,  saying:  'Thou  art  in 
need  and  in  distress;  tliou  art  lost  on  thy  way,  and  there  is  no  possi- 
bility for  anyone  except  me  to  have  mercy  on  thee.'  Then  he  would 
care  for  her.  For  this  reason  we  should  now  repay  him  for  all  these 
acts  of  kindness  by  aiding  him,  since  now  it  is  he  who  is  forsaken 
and  in  need  of  care."  The  man  who  was  ill  now  sat  up  with  un- 
covered head,  thinking,  "  I  shall  see  them;  I  shall  have  a  look  at  the 
two  women  who  are  conversing."  But  he  saw  no  one,  and  so  was  dis- 
appointed. For  several  days  he  overheard  these  two  women  talking, 
but  he  was  not  able  to  see  any  perscm  around  him. 

There  came  a  night,  however,  when  the  ill  man  had  a  dream,  in 
which  he  saw  a  woman  of  low  stature  but  of  fine  appearance,  with 
beautiful  long  hair.  In  the  dream  she  said  to  him :  "  I  have  been 
requested  to  come  to  you  (do  you  know  it?)  to  tell  you  that  we  will 
now  aid  you  in  your  illness.  We  desire  to  have  you  stop  thinking 
that  you  are  about  to  die  and  that  you  are  poor  and  wretched  because 
you  have  no  kindred  or  friends.  Moreover,  be  of  good  courage,  for 
you  shall  be  well  again  before  long,  and  shall  again  travel  much. 
This,  too,  shall  come  to  pass:  A  shower  of  rain  shall  come,  where- 
upon you  must  ari.se  and  place  some  receptacle  where  the  raindrops 
may  fall  into  it,  and  all  tlie  water  that  falls  into  this  receptacle  you 
must  drink.  This  shall  suffice  to  cure  you  of  your  illness.  It  is  we 
who  are  making  a  repayment  of  an  obligation  which  is  due  you  from 
us.  We  are  merely  doing  our  part  in  aiding  you  at  this  time,  because 
you  have  so  many  times  had  compassion  on  us  during  the  long  time 
you  have  been  traveling  over  the  earth.  For  it  was  j'our  wont  when 
you  were  traveling  on  whatsoever  paths  they  were,  when  you  saw 
lying  on  the  trail  '  Corn,'  '  a  Bean,'  or  the  '  Seed  of  the  Ancient 
Squash' — we  are  of  course  sisters — to  take  her  up  and  ha\e  pity  on 
her,  saying.  'Thou  art  lost  and  forsaken  even  on  the  trail.'  It  is  for 
these  acts  of  kindness  that  we  shall  now,  I  say,  repay  thee.*" 

"Moreover,  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  you  will  hear  us  when  we 
sing  and  dance  the  Corn  dances  to  give  thanks  that  you  are  again  to 
ti'avel  over  the  earth,  for  such  is,  indeed,  our  custom  when  we  are 
happy. 


CfRT 
HEW 


\'^-]  LEGENDS  651 


'"Know  this,  too,  that  whfii  iiiaiikiiul  phe  attontioii  to  lis.  when  we 
are  born  (sprout)  out  of  the  earth,  and  when  they  till  the  ifround 
whereon  we  stanil.  we  give  thanks  for  this  attention.  Again,  when 
they  form  the  hills  of  earth  around  us,  we  also  rejoice:  then,  too, 
when  they  enlarge  the  hills  to  accoininodate  our  growing  bodies  we 
regidarly  give  thanks  by  singing  and  dancing  the  Corn  dances;  and 
when  they  pluck  the  ears  of  corn,  gatlier  them  in  heaps  in  the  middle 
of  the  field,  husk  them,  and  braid  them  into  oste^'sa's  (corn-strings), 
and  hang  these  on  frames  or  lintels  of  poles,  we  also  give  thanks  in 
like  manner:  and  as  soon  as  these  strings  have  dried  and  they  bring 
us  into  the  lodges  we  give  thanks  and  rejoice  by  singing  and  dancing 
Corn  dances. 

"Now,  I  bid  you  do  this.  Tell  all  human  beings  whom  you  shall 
meet  that  they,  too,  must  sing  and  dance  the  Corn  dances  when  they 
wish  to  express  their  thanksgiving  at  the  time  they  are  pleased  to 
see  ns  come  to  maturity  again:  and  this  is  the  reason  that  they 
must  perform  this  ceremony.  It  is  we,  of  course,  who  continue  to 
assist  you  by  furnishing  that  on  which  you  human  beings  subsist. 
So  be  of  good  courage  and  chei-ish  my  words." 

Then  the  ill  man  awoke  and  verily  he  saw  a  rainstorm  on  the 
horizon  which  was  approaching.  lie  aro.se,  and  taking  a  bark  bowl 
he  set  it  outside  of  the  lodge  where  the  raindrops  would  fall  into  it. 
In  a  short  time  it  liegan  to  rain  and  the  raindrops  soon  filled  the 
bowl.  lie  proceeded  at  once  to  drink  the  rain  water  and  began  to 
recover  his  healtli. 

The  following  night  as  he  lay  on  his  couch  he  heard  the  voices 
of  women  singing.  He  noticed  that  there  had  come  on  the  drying 
poles  in  the  lodge  several  strings  of  cars  of  corn  and  further  that 
these  strings  swayed  slightly  to  and  fro,  and  that  the  singing  pro- 
ceeded from  the  grains  of  corn,  in  the  guise  of  women,  on  the  ears. 
.Some  of  the  words  employed  in  these  songs  were:  "Among  the 
Fl(jwers  I  am  moving  reverently,"  "Among  the  Flowers  I  am  singing 
and  (hincing:"  and  the  women's  voices  he  heard  saying:  "The  I''ruit 
or  lierries  are  I'ipe,  the  Fruit  or  Herries  are  ripe,"  and  many  otlier 
songs  of  the  Corn  dames.  'Iherea  ftcr  the  sick  man  rapidly  regained 
his  wonted  health  and  again  tra\eled  ovei'  tlie  earth. 

In  time  the  man  returned  to  his  own  iifujilc  and  i-elated  to  them 
all  his  experiences,  and  he  .sing  for  them  the  songs  that  he  had  heard 
sung  by  the  Corn  women.  It  was  at  this  time  that  the  Council  of 
Ancients — the  Elders — of  the  people  said  publicly:  "We  are  indeed 
fortunate  to  learn  of  this  matter:  and  we  niu.^t  regularly  iieiform 
this  ceremony  in  the  time  to  come." 

Xot  long  after  this  e\ent  the  man  who  had  Ijeen  ill  again  heai'd 
the  singing  of  the  Corn  women:  he  heard  them  singing  in  the  j)lacc 


652  SENECA  FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MITHS  [eth.  ax.\.  32 

where  the  corn  had  been  planted.  Moreover,  he  saw  them — a  great 
company  of  Corn  jDeople,  Bean  people,  and  Squash  people,  and  so  far 
as  he  could  see  they  were  in  all  respects  perfect  human  beings.  They 
danced  in  a  slow,  gentle  manner  in  imitation  of  the  wavingof  thecorn 
stalks  as  they  stand  in  the  ground.  Women  and  girls  took  part  in 
the  dance. 

The  man  again  heard  all  the  songs  and  so  learned  them.  At  once 
lie  told  his  people  what  he  had  seen  and  heard.  Again  the  Council 
of  Ancients  said :  "  We  must  perform  this  ceremony,  too,  for  this  is 
part  and  parcel  of  the  other." 

From  this  time  the  Corn  dances  and  Corn  songs  were  known  and 
used,  and  these  are  the  songs  that  are  in  use  at  this  day  on  the  anni- 
versaries of  the  various  seasons,  beginning  with  the  time  the  people 
plant  the  corn  grains  and  ending  when  the  strings  of  ears  of  corn 
are  stored  in  the  lodges — the  corn  harvest.  This  ceremony  is  called 
Gohda'gohwi'sas. 

125.  The  Origin  of  White  Corn,  or  Kanexhagexat 

In  ancient  times  there  lived  a  connnunity  of  people  at  the  foot  of 
a  very  high,  steep,  and  rugged  clitf.  There  came  a  day  when  they 
heard  the  plaintive  singing  of  a  woman,  who  seemed  to  be  on  the 
top  of  this  almost  inaccessible  mountain.  The  mysterious  woman 
directed  the  words  of  her  songs  to  a  very  old  but  highly  respected  man 
of  this  small  community.  -The  burden  of  the  songs  was  expressed  by 
the  words:  "Oh!  kinsman  of  my  father's  brother,  come  up  here:  I 
indeed  desire  greatly  to  become  your  wife."  These  words  gave  much 
anxiet_v  to  the  people  who  heard  them,  but  the  old  man  paid  no 
attention  to  them. 

The  woman,  seemingly  on  the  mountain  top,  continued  to  sing 
daily,  however,  and  finally  some  of  the  people  in-ged  the  old  man  to 
go  up  to  the  summit  to  learn  the  designs  of  the  persistent  singer.  But 
he  excused  himself,  saying :  "  The  mountain  is  so  steep  and  rugged, 
and  I  am  now  become  so  aged  that  I  do  not  feel  able  to  make  the 
attempt  to  climb  its  side." 

But  the  woman  on  the  height,  continuing  her  singing  from  day  to 
day,  and  the  anxiety  of  the  people  Isecoming  very  marked,  the  chiefs 
of  the  conmiunity  in  council  finally  requested  the  old  man,  whom 
they  highly  respected,  to  go  to  the  mountain  top  to  nnravel,  if 
possible,  the  meaning  of  the  mysterious  singing.  They  represented 
to  him  the  importance  of  Ihis  mission,  since  the  persistent  singing 
might  have  some  relation  to  the  welfare  of  the  community  at  large. 

After  long  meditation  he  replied  to  the  request  of  the  council.  "  (^h, 
my  chiefs!  at  your  request  I  will  go  to  the  mountain  top  to  learn, 
if  it  be  possible,  the  meaning  of  this  woman's  singing." 


^^^;]  LEGENDS  653 

ll;i\iii<j;  iiiiuli'  tlie  lu'cossary  |iicii:ii-:iti(ins  tln'  old  man  starti'd.  ami 
af'ti'i-  oMMcoiniiig  many  ilitticiiltii's  \w  linally  reaclietl  the  siimniit  of 
till'  iiioiinlaiii.  There  ho  saw  a  young,  fino-looking  woman,  who  stood 
not  far  from  tlic  brink  of  the  el  ill'.  She  had  been  standing  in  tliat 
position  while  he  was  painfully  wending  his  way  ii])  the  mountain 
side  and  urged  him  to  ha\e  patience  and  courage  to  persist  in  his 
attemjit  to  climb  the  mountain.  Seeing  that  he  had  reached  the  top 
of  the  ninunlain.  the  young  wouuin  bcckoucd  him  to  her  side,  at 
the  sauu'  time  saying:  "Do  thou  come  to  me,  Oh.  my  fi'iend  !  I 
desire  to  share  my  mat  with  thee."  Drawing  near  to  the  young 
woman,  the  aged  man  said  kindly  to  her:  "  I  am  unfortunately  ])ast 
the  age  when  it  might  have  been  in  my  power  to  comjily  with  your 
reiiuest."  Hut  ^he  young  woman  i-e[)lied:  "  Fear  not,  but  draw  near 
me.  I  will  endow  thee  with  the  [mwer  which  will  enable  thee  to 
comply  with  my  desire.  .So  come  close  to  me.  Now,  mark  my 
woi-ds  and  carefully  cherish  them.  Out  of  the  ground  at  the  spot 
whereon  I  have  lain  a  plant  shall  sprout  and  grow.  Cai'e  tenderly 
for  this,  for  it  .shall  be  a  Ixjon  to  your  ])eople.  a  chief  source  of  food 
to  them;  and  it  shall  be  called  Kaneuhageniit ;  that  is  to  say.  "White 
Corn.  In  five  days  from  now  you  must  return  to  care  for  what  yon 
will  find  growing  out  of  the  giound,  as  I  lia\e  alrea<ly  told  you.  As 
for  me,  I  shall  die."'  The  aged  uuin  drew  near  the  woman  and 
embraceil  her.  Time  passed  and  he  swooned.  ^\'hen  he  finally 
ret'overed  his  senses  he  discovered  that  the  young  woman  had  dis- 
appeared— vanished  into  thin  air — and  he  believed  that  he  had 
embraced  a  vision.  Arisin<r  from  the  ground,  he  returned  to  his 
])eoi)le  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

IJemembei'ing  the  words  of  the  young  woman  to  the  effect  that  he 
mu.st  return  to  the  mountain  tup  to  obtain  a  mysterious  plant,  at  the 
end  of  five  days  the  old  man  returned  to  the  summit.  There  he  found 
on  the  s])ot  wheivon  the  young  woman  had  lain  a  growing  corn  plant. 
He  carefully  jjruned  away  fi'om  it  all  weeds  and  placed  lidi.  tine 
earth  around  its  rootlets,  and  also  watered  it  from  a  n,'ighbo|-inir 
spring. 

Taking  great  delight  in  caring  foi-  this  coin  plant,  the  aged  man 
came  fre(|uently  to  the  mountain  to|)  to  attend  to  it.  In  course  of 
time  it  had  grown  to  maturity,  bearing  three  ripened  ears  of  white 
corn.  These  he  carefully  husked  and  carried  back  to  his  lodge.  In 
the  spring  he  assembled  all  the  people  of  the  community  and  di\  ided 
the  corn  among  them  e(|Ually.  a  few  gi'ains  to  each  family:  and  he 
instructed  them  in  the  method  of  planting  and  caring  for  the  coin, 
telling  them  that  in  time  it  would  become  one  of  their  sta])le  food 
plants.  Such  is,  it  is  said,  the  manner  in  which  the  white  corn 
originated  among  the  Tuscaroia.  who  ha\e  generously  shared  the 
seed  with  neighboring  tribes  and  kindred. 


654  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [f.th.  axn.  32 

1-2G.  The  Origin  of  the  Porcupine  People  ok  Clan  *^'' 

In  ancient  times,  it  is  said,  a  people  dwelling  in  a  certain  country, 
having  become  very  numerous,  decided  to  divide  into  equal  parts 
their  hunting  grounds  and  the  game  animals  living  on  them.  This 
division  of  lands  took  place  at  a  public  assembly. 

It  was  solemnly  agreed  that  all  persons  should  respect  th?  bound- 
aiy  marks  separating  their  own  lands  from  those  of  their  neighbors; 
that  no  person  should  cross  such  boundary  lines  for  the  purpose  of 
hunting  game  animals;  and  that  any  person  violating  this  agreement 
would  be  guilty  of  trespass.  The  part  assigned  to  every  family 
{ohirachira)  was,  indeed,  very  large,  being  considered  sufficiently 
extensive  to  provide  sustenance  for  that  family.  It  was  still  further 
agreed  that  when  the  trespass  should  be  discovered  the  aggrieved 
people  might,  after  learning  all  tlie  facts  in  the  case,  exterminate 
the  family  of  the  transgressor,  unless  a  suitable  expiatory  recompense 
were  offered  and  accej^ted  from  such  clan  and  family.  This  compact 
was  solemnly  kept  for  many  years  and  the  several  contracting  clans 
or  peoples  lived  in  gieat  harmony. 

There  came  a  day,  however,  when  a  hunter  from  one  of  these 
neighboring  clans  deliberately  violated  the  compact  of  his  clan  with 
tlieir  neighbors  by  crossing  the  boundary  line  into  the  territory  of 
an  adjoining  people  and  there  killing  some  game  animal.  His  act, 
which  was  soon  discovered,  led  to  a  long  and  bloody  war  between 
the  two  families,  resulting  in  the  virtual  extermination  of  the  clan 
of  the  offender. 

Only  one  man  escaped  the  vengeance  of  the  offended  family.  He 
saved  himself  by  flight  from  his  home  and  succeeded  in  avoiding 
his  pursuers  by  dropping  into  a  deep  cavern  in  a  rocky  cliff  far  from 
his  land.  Having  passed  through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern,  the  man 
saw  that  the  passage  led  to  a  very  large  open  space,  which  he  found 
to  be  well  lighted.  In  the  center  of  a  spacious  field  he  saw  a  lodge, 
which  attracted  his  attention.  While  watching  for  some  sign  of  life 
in  the  lodge,  he  was  gratified  to  see  a  woman  emerge  therefrom  and 
then  reenter. 

Going  back  into  the  passageway  to  the  cavern,  the  man  kept  a  close 
watch  on  the  lodge.  In  a  short  time  another  woman  came  out,  fol- 
lowed by  the  woman  he  had  first  seen.  The  two  walked  splay-footed 
toward  the  place  where  the  fugitive  had  concealed  himself.  On  reach- 
ing the  opening  of  the  cavern  they  stopped,  and  one  said  to  the  other : 
"Let  us  go  back  home,  for  I  smell  the  smoke  of  a  fire."  Thereupon 
the  two  started  back  down  from  the  entrance.  So  they  quickly  re- 
turned to  the  lodge  and  at  once  reentered  it.  Shortly  afterward  a 
man  came  out  of  the  lodge.  He  shook  himself  as  a  dog  shakes  him- 
self after  coming  up  out  of  the  water,  and  it  seemed  to  the  fugitive 


Cl-RTIN, 
HEWITT 


]  LEGENDS  G55 


that  tlie  place  became  lif^hter.^''""  The  man  came  directly  to  the 
nioutli  of  the  cavern  and  thi'u  returned  tu  the  l(xl<re.  lie  told  tlie 
women  that  the  scent  in  the  entrance  was  not  that  of  smoke  but  of  a 
huMiaii   beiliir. 

Ajrain  the  two  women  came  forth,  this  time  to  find  tlie  source 
of  tlie  huinaii  odor  that  scented  the  cavern's  mouth.  They  were 
not  loiiir  in  discovcrinir  the  man,  who  had  scate<l  himsell  near 
the  entrance.  Ai)proacliiii,ii-  him,  the  el(k>r  woman  said:  "  \\'hence 
have  you  come.  Human  15einfr^ "'  In  re]dy  the  man  said:  •"  I  came  in 
here  to  conceal  myself  from  my  enemies.  All  my  ]ieople  have  been 
killed  in  a  day."  The  elder  wuman  answei'ed  :  "  We  invite  you  to  our 
home.  Will  you  not  come  home  with  us  f"  The  man  i-eplied :  "I 
williiiL;lv  accept  your  invitation.  I  will  <:<>  home  with  you.  Let  u.s 
start  now."' 

In  a  short  time  they  reacheij  the  lodire.  and  on  entering  it  the 
brother  of  the  two  women  greeted  the  man,  saying:  "Be  of  good 
cheer.  Fear  not.  No  harm  will  come  to  you.  You  shall  not  suffer 
any  want.  You  shall  niaiiy  my  elder  sister,  and  there  is  plenty  of 
food  in  this  lodge  and  in  our  store-cache."'  The  fugitive  was  greatly 
delighted  with  his  recejjtion,  aiul  he  informed  the  man  that  he  agreed 
to  the  ])roposals  made  to  him  by  his  host,  and  he  took  u\>  his  alxKle 
there  with  these  three  people. 

The  bridegi'oom  was  indeed  very  happy,  hn-  he  ke])t  saying:  ''  T  nm 
very  happy,  for  my  wife  loves  me.  I  am  iiulced  glad  to  be  here  in 
this  place  with  you.""  It  was  not  long  lieforc  he  and  his  loving  wife 
were  bles-sed  with  an  infant  son.  They  all  lived  in  comfort  and 
amity. 

When  the  man  had  lived  in  tliis  ])lace  about  1.")  years  and  had 
become  the  father  of  a  number  of  interesting  children,  his  brother- 
indaw  one  day  said  to  him:  "The  time  has  now  arrived  when  you 
should  rettuii  to  the  place  whence  you  (led  to  this  cavern  home; 
and  when  you  depart  you  should  take  back  with  you  your  wife  and 
your  children.  They  are  now  your  own  people,  although  they  are 
of  oui'  blood  too." 

.Vfter  making  the  necessary  preparations  by  (lacking  u]i  their 
small  belongings,  the  man  with  his  wife  and  children  bade  their 
kindreil  farcwt'll  and  starte<l  for  their  future  home.  Passing  thi-ough 
the  mouth  of  the  cavern  they  emeiged  into  a  dense  foresl  of  large 
trees,  in  which  there  were  here  and  there  bare  tracts.  In  this  region 
the  husband  and  father  found  much  game,  consisting  of  deer,  bear, 
wild  turkeys,  partridges.  (|uail.  rabbits,  elk.  moose,  and  many  other 
animals  which  served  as  food,  ^\'hen  they  had  erected  a  cam]i  in  a 
sheltered  iilace  in  the  foresl  the  father  spent  his  time  in  hunting 
to  support  his  family.  As  he  went  from  place  to  ]ilace  through  the 
forest  he  met  a  numlier  of  other  hunters,  whom  he  invited  to  visit 


656  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MITHS  [eth.  A^•^ 


his  camp.  These  visitors  brought  their  wives  along  to  see  the  new- 
comers. They  were  greatly  surprised  to  find  that  the  wife  and  the 
children  sjaoke  a  strange  language,  which  was  not  understood  by 
any  of  the  visitors,  although  easily  comprehended  by  the  husband. 
At  last  one  of  the  visitors  asked :  "  Of  what  clan  are  you?  "  directing 
his  queslion  to  the  wife  of  the  host.  The  host  replied  for  her:  '"  She 
is  of  the  Porcupine  clan  of  the  Wan'dat  tribe.  I  am  of  the  "Wan'dat 
tribe,  too."  After  a  long  silence  one  of  the  visitors  said :  "  How  did 
you  receive  such  a  name?"  The  host  replied,  ''The  Porcupines 
gave  me  that  name."  Then  the  visitors  exclaimed :  "  We  have  found 
a  new  people,  who  are  called  Wan'dat,  and  we  must  love  them  as 
we  do  our  own  peoples  and  tribes.    Let  us  greet  them  as  our  fi'iends." 

From  this  time  the  family  of  the  Porcupine  clan  of  the  Wan'dat 
had  many  friends  and  before  a  long  time  had  passed  they  had 
become  very  numerous.  The  children  of  the  women  were  called 
the  Porcupine  people.  Their  numbers  made  them  powerful  and 
influential.  They  were  well  fed  and  strong  physically.  They  were 
fine  hunters,  knowing  well  where  to  find  game  of  all  kinds,  where 
to  gather  nuts  of  all  edible  kinds  and  various  kinds  of  berries  and 
small  fruits,  and  they  knew  also  just  where  the  wild  pigeons  had 
their  roosts. 

They  noted  the  whereabouts  of  these  places,  and  when  the  season 
was  fully  come  their  leaders  and  chiefs  would  call  to  their  people  in 
a  loud  voice :  "  Come !  Let  us  go  to  feed  ourselves  abimdantly  where 
the  wild  pigeons  have  now  prepared  their  roosts  for  the  purpose 
of  breeding."  At  this  time  the  wild  pigeons  were  so  numerous  that 
many  flocks  stretched  over  large  tracts  of  territory,  darkening  the 
light  of  the  sun  and  making  with  their  wings  a  loud  rushing  sound 
resembling  that  of  an  approaching  tornado,  (living  heed  to  the  call 
of  their  leaders,  the  people  would  make  the  necessary  preparations 
to  go  to  the  roosts  of  the  wild  jiigeons.  Having  reached  the  desig- 
nated place,  the  people  quickly  put  up  temporary  camps  and  then 
went  out  at  once  to  kill  the  squabs,  which  they  brought  to  their  lodges 
to  broil  and  eat  with  boiled  corn  bread  and  corn  soup.  All  were 
delighted  with  the  bounty  of  nature — the  gift  of  the  Master  of  Life. 

Having  thus  spent  part  of  the  summer  killing  wild  pigeons, 
after  the  birds  had  departed,  a  leader  among  the  people  would  say: 
"  Oh !  friends,  cousins,  and  kindred,  the  deer  have  gone  in  this 
direction  and  are  now  fat  and  in  good  condition  to  be  killed  for  food 
and  for  their  skins.  Let  us  then  decamp  now  and  go  to  the  place 
where  they  may  be  found.  Up  and  let  us  be  going.  Let  us  lose  no 
time  in  delay."  So  leaving  the  grounds  of  the  pigeon  roost  early  in 
the  autumn,  they  would  journey  to  the  lands  where  the  deer  were 
accustomed  to  feed  and  to  raise  their  young.    There  they  would  erect 


,'i--7^.;]  LEGENDS  657 

temporary  camps  and  make  ready  for  the  deer  hunt.  Then  the  good 
hunters  led  out  small  parties  in  (juest  of  the  deer  and  in  this  manner 
usually  succeeded  in  hilling  large  ninnbers  of  them.  The  venison 
they  dried  for  their  winter  supply  of  food,  and  the  skins  they  tanned 
into  fine  buckskin  foi-  leggings  and  moccasins  and  other  garments; 
and  so  these  pe()])le  were  warm  and  contented  during  the  winter 
months.  They  shot  the  deer  witli  bows  and  arrows  and  caught  some 
witii  traps,  in  the  setting  of  which  they  were  adepts.  Thus  they 
made  the  natural  foml  supply  of  their  home  counti'V  contiibute  to 
their  welfare  and  comfort,  and  being  well  fed  they  were  strong,  alert, 
and  I'csourceful. 

These  people  were  very  observant  of  the  jiluises  and  ithcnouiPiia  of 
nature,  and  had  signs  by  which  to  foreknow  coming  events.  Should 
they  wish  to  know  the  degree  of  the  cold  of  an  approaching  wintei" 
they  would  watch  cai'cftilly  the  niuski'ats  as  they  prepared  their 
winter  ([uarters.  If  the  lining  of  the  winter  home  of  the  animal 
was  made  thin  the  jieople  would  conclude  that  the  coming  winter 
would  be  mild;  but  if  thick,  tluit  it  would  be  severe. 

Another  sign  from  which  they  judgcii  tlie  severity  of  an  approacji- 
ing  winter  was  the  condition  of  the  deerskins  which  they  secured. 
If  these  were  thin  and  if  the  hair  on  them  was  short  and  not  close, 
the  people  would  conclude  that  tlie  coming  winter  would  bi'  mild. 
Tf  the  jieoiile  saw  the  bears  making  their  winter  (piarters  of  leaves 
early  in  the  autjunn  they  would  infer  that  the  approaching  winter 
O'ould  be  vei'v  severe. 

Tf  much  bail  fell  duiing  the  autumn  and  winter  the  peojile  con- 
cluded that  there  would  be  nuich  fruit  and  many  nuts  the  coming 
season. 

Again,  shoidd  a  person  traveling  through  the  forest  lose  his  way 
ho  would  notice  on  wliich  side  of  a  tall  straight  tree  truiijv  moss  was 
growing.  Assuming  this  to  be  the  noi'th  side  he  would  thus  get  his 
bearings. 

Should  a  jierson  see  a  rock  damp  from  the  luunidity  in  the  air  he 
would  forecast  i-ain  for  the  following  day. 

Tf  a  person  obsei-ved  wild  ducks  and  wild  geese  disporting  them- 
selves actively  in  the  water  he  would  anticipate  showers  for  three 
days. 

The  foregoing  are  some  of  the  signs  and  omens  which  the  Porcu- 
pine clan  taught  to  their  neighbors,  and  through  these  they  were 
able  to  forecast  coming  events  with  great  success.  These  things 
made  the  PonupiTie  clan  of  the  Wan'dat  tribe  noted  for-  wisdoui 
and  foresight. 

94615°— 10 42 


658  SENECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [kth.  axn.  32 

1-27.  The  Origin  of  the  Bear  Songs  and  Dances 

Concerning  the  origin  of  the  Bear  songs  and  dances  the  following 
legend  is  told  by  our  ancestors,  said  a  Seneca  shaman.  This  is  what 
took  place  when  these  songs  and  dances  became  manifest  on  their 
human  side,  or  rather,  became  manifest  in  their  relation  to  human 
beings  in  their  quest  of  happiness. 

In  the  past,  it  is  said,  a  boy  was  kidnaped  from  a  temporary  camp 
of  some  hunters.  It  happened  in  this  manner.  A  woman  of  the 
hunting  party  was  left  alone  at  the  camp  while  the  hunters  were  out 
in  the  forest  for  the  day:  it  was  her  duty  to  keep  the  fire  and  to  have 
food  cooked  when  the  hunters  returned  in  the  evening.  The  woman 
had  a  child,  a  boy,  who  was  then  nearly  2  years  of  age.  The  little 
fellow  played  outside  of  the  lodge  while  his  mother  was  busy  around 
the  fire  or  with  her  other  duties  inside  of  the  lodge,  feeling  that  her 
child  could  take  care  of  himself  in  the  meantime. 

One  day.  when  the  men  had  gone  on  their  usual  hunting  trips  in 
the  forest,  the  woman  fell  asleep  while  the  child  was  outside  of  the 
lodge  playing  by  himself.  Suddenly  he  was  surprised  to  see  a 
strange  man  coming  toward  him.  This  man,  whom  the  child  did 
not  know,  came  directly  to  the  place  where  he  was  at  play.  When 
he  reached  the  child  he  said :  "  My  child,  I  have  come  for  you.  You 
shall  go  with  me  to  our  lodge.  My  children  desire  that  you  should 
visit  us,  and  you  and  they  shall  play  together  regularly.  The  reason 
for  this  is  that  you  are  entirely  alone,  and  they  will  amuse  you  so  that 
your  mind  will  be  contented."  Then  they  two  started  away.  They 
arrived  at  the  lodge  of  the  strange  man,  where  they  found  two  small 
boys  of  the  same  size  who  lived  there.  On  entering  the  lodge  the 
father  said:  "I  have  now  brought  here  the  person  whom  you  two 
for  a  long  time  have  desired  me  to  bring  to  you,  so  now  your  wish 
has  been  fulfilled.  You  two  must  love  and  be  kind  to  him;  you  must 
never  hurt  him :  you  two  must  not  annoy  or  vex  him :  let  there  be 
peace  and  pleasantness  during  the  time  that  he  shall  be  on  a  visit 
to  us.    So,  whatever  happens,  be  kind  to  him." 

The  three  children  went  around  from  place  to  place  and  plaj'ed 
together.  The  visiting  boy  observed  carefully  all  that  he  saw  in 
and  about  the  lodge.  He  saw  what  these  people  were  accustomed  to 
eat:  that  they  lived  on  various  kinds  of  nuts,  on  honey,  and  on 
huckleberries,  mulberries,  and  various  other  kinds  of  berries.  All 
these  things  he  understood.  He  saw,  too,  that  they  had  plenty  of 
corn,  on  which  they  lived,  as  well  as  on  the  berries  and  hunoy  and 
nuts. 

The  visiting  boy  had  been  there  for  some  time  when  it  became  the 
custom  for  him  to  accompany  the  other  two  children  around  from 
place  to  place;  he  would  accompany  them  when  they  went  out  to 


j'iy,7A-r]  LEGENDS  659 

seek  for  nuts.  lie  li'nrned  that  lliev  piizecl  the  chestiiiit  ahove  all 
other  kinds  of  nuts:  that  next  to  these  they  iiighly  prized  honey;  and 
next  to  this  they  prized  luickleliei-i-ies  and  mulberries.  It  was  the 
custfim  of  these  people  in  j;atlii'iiii<r  tliese  thin<rs  to  work  independ- 
ently to  tret  for  themselves  as  much  <>(  these  articles  of  food  as  was 
possilile  wiion  they  were  in  season. 

After  the  lapse  of  many  days  spent  thus  the  headman  of  this 
lodp'.  w  ho  had  bi-ought  the  child  theiT.  said  to  his  little  finest :  "  Xow 
I  am  alxiut  to  tell  you  sonielhiiifr.  You  nnist  tell  the  human  heinirs 
when  you  ha\e  returned  to  your  home  what  I  will  now  reveal  to 
yon  as  oMr  wishes,  ^du  shall  ti'll  them  that  we  have  strontr  desires 
that  theie  mi<rht  be  found  a  way  by  which  we  conhl  be  enabled  to 
give  aid  to  mankind  whenever  they  may  be  forced  into  a  critical 
situation  li\-  means  of  sickneas.  which  is  wont  to  befall  mankiml. 
Yon  shall  know  that  we  have  observed  in  the  i^ast  tliat  disease  travels 
about  fr<im  place  to  j)lace;  and  it  comes  to  jiass.  as  we  have  observed, 
that  when  it  has  selected  its  victim  this  ]ierson  at  once  realizes  that 
he  has  pains  in  a  certain  part  of  the  body.  It  is  well  known  that 
if  they  would  remember  to  call  on  us  we  certaiidy  have  the  power  to 
cause  this  evil  thing  to  turn  aside  so  that  it  shall  pa.ss  on  one  side  or 
the  other  of  the  person,  in  such  manner  that  the  person  will  not  be- 
come very  ill  and  he  will  soon  recover  his  usual  health. 

"  Now  look  at  what  belongs  to  us  and  which  it  is  our  custom  to  use. 
Examine  this  carefully.  It  is  this  that  we  use  when  it  so  ha])iKMis 
that  a  man  while  out  hunting  takes  a  course  directly  toward  the 
place  in  which  we  abide.  This  object  is  held  up  before  us,  and  the 
himter  is  turned  away  from  us." 

The  young  child,  on  looking  at  the  object,  saw  a  forked  wooden  rod 
in  the  hands  of  the  strange  man.  Thereupon  the  man  said  to  the 
child:  "This  is  the  way  in  which  I  regularly  use  this  thing."  So 
saying,  he  held  the  forked  rod  up  befoi-e  himself,  and  continued: 
"The  support  of  the  forks  must  point  toward  the  himter,  and  as  he 
follows  the  direction  of  the  rod  he  is  botiml  to  pass  on  one  or  the 
other  side  of  the  place  in  which  we  abide.  As  he  passes  I  guide  the 
rod  around  past  my  side  toward  the  rear  of  our  position.  Thus  we 
ward  otf  the  hunter  from  finding  and  injuring  us. 

"It  is  this  thing  we  shall  use  in  giving  aid  to  maidvind  in  their 
necessities  if  they  will  oidy  ap|)eal  to  us  to  aid  them,  and  this  is  the 
way  in  which  we  shall  proceed  to  do  so.  In  the  first  place,  when 
the  people  desire  to  make  their  appeal  to  us  they  shall  prepare  a 
drink  composed  of  huckleberries  and  of  mtdberries.  into  which  they 
shall  put  maple  sugar.  When  they  have  ])repared  this  drink  they 
shall  collect  native  tobacco,  which  they  shall  cast  upon  the  fire,  at  the 
same  time  saying:  '  Oh.  you  Bears!  do  you  now  j)artake  of  this  native 
tobacco — tobacco  which  nur  Creatoi"  has  jiiovided  fur  us.  and   with 


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

which  He  intended  th;it  mankind  should  support  their  prayers  to 
Him,  no  matter  to  what  object  of  His  creation  they  wished  to  direct 
their  appeals.'  So,  now,  yuu  Bears,  who  move  from  place  to  place 
in  the  forest,  and  all  with  whom  you  are  united  in  bonds  of  mutual 
aid,  we  ask  you  to  assist  in  bringing  about  such  conditions  that  we 
shall  think  in  peace,  and  that  those  who  ai-e  being  called  away  by 
death  may  recover  health  and  contentment  of  mind. 

"  Xow  the  drink  of  berry  juices  has  been  prejiared  and  sweetened 
with  maple  sugar — the  drink  which  you  Bears  so  highly  prize;  and 
now  mankind  are  about  to  assume  your  bodily  forms,  and  they  will 
then  touch  you  in  making  their  appeals  to  you.  Then  one  shall  cast 
native  tobacco  on  the  fire,  at  the  same  time  saying, '  Now,  be  it  known 
that  there  shall  begin  the  ceremony  which  is  of  you,  Beare.'  Then 
the  people  shall  be  exsufflated*^'  by  the  masters  of  ceremony;  and 
the  people  shall  take  a  drink  of  the  berry  beverage,  and  in  taking  it 
each  person  shall  say,  '  I  give  thanks  unto  you  severally,  you  Bears.' 
This  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  be  done.  Then,  verily,  the  duty  de- 
volves upon  us  to  give  aid  to  mankind.  But  when  we  are  engaged 
in  giving  the  aid  we  shall  not  be  seen  by  mankind.  Moreover,  this 
shall  be  done.  You  must  take  back  with  you  the  songs  which  we  are 
accustomed  to  use  when  we  wish  to  enjoy  ourselves  in  our  dances." 

Thereupon,  the  strange  man  began  to  sing  the  songs,  and  these 
songs  the  child  learned  and  brought  back  with  him  to  his  own  lodge. 
In  the  songs  the  singer  employs  these  words:  "No  matter  what  a 
human  being  may  desire  to  do  this  shall  accomplish  his  desire."  "  I 
know  all  the  virtues  of  the  things  that  grow  on  plants  on  the  earth." 
These  are  the  words  of  the  songs  which  the  child  heard  the  strange 
man  sing  to  him. 

This  is  what  took  place  in  the  lodge  from  which  the  child  was 
stolen  when  the  mother  of  the  child  awoke  from  her  sleep.  Finding 
that  the  boy  was  missing,  she  hunted  for  him  everywhere.  Wlien  the 
men  returned  from  hunting  thej'  at  once  joined  the  mother  in  search- 
ing for  the  lost  boy,  but  they  failed  to  find  him.  They  sought  for 
him  even  to  the  banks  of  a  river  which  flowed  at  some  distance  from 
the  lodge;  they  even  sought  for  the  tracks  of  the  boy  on  both  sides 
of  the  river.  Then,  boarding  canoes,  they  went  up  and  down  the 
river  to  learn  if  possible  wjiether  the  child  had  been  drowned  or 
not,  but  they  were  unable  to  find  any  trace  of  him  in  the  water. 
Next  they  turned  their  attention  to  the  neighboring  forest,  which 
they  thoroughly  searched,  but  they  did  not  find  him. 

By  this  time  they  were  much  troubled  in  mind  because  of  the  child 
who  was  lost,  indeed.  Then  the  father  of  the  child  went  out  to 
hunt,  and  when  he  returned  he  said  to  his  wife :  "  It  is,  perhaps,  the 
proper  thing  for  us  to  ■  prepare  a  '  reunion '  feast ;  for  it  seems  true 
that  our  child  has  perished."     Thereupon  the  mother  set  to  work 


--■^:]  LEGENDS  661 

prepariii'i'  the  food.  \\'liin  it  was  ready  she  jilaced  it  on  the  prouml 
in  tlie  custoiiiarv  ])lace  for  oatiii<i.  and  tliey  two  sat  (h)\vn  to  eat. 
Taking  a  portion  of  tlie  food  they  were  eatin-i;  and  setting  it  aside, 
the  mother  said:  "As  respects  this  food  tliy  and  my  ciiild  does  now 
become  its  owner  and  disposer."  Tims  tliey  finisiied  their  feast  of 
■■  reunion  of  the  living." 

After  the  lapse  of  sonu'  time  the  molluT  ^aid  to  liei'  husliand: 
"  Perhajis  we  two  .should  now  leave  for  our  home,  going  back  to  our 
own  people,  because  it  is  true  tiial  I  am  not  at  peace  in  my  mind  on 
account  of  what  has  happened  to  us."  The  hu>band  consented  to  her 
l)roi)ositi(>n.  and  they  ]iacked  their  meat  and  their  small  belongings 
and,  boarding  a  canoe,  started  for  their  home.  .Vftei-  their  arrival  at 
home  tiie  news  of  what  happened  to  them  spread  among  their  people. 
After  some  days  the  mother  of  the  lost  child  ~aid  to  her  husband: 
"Is  it  not  perhaps  a  good  thing  for  us  to  go  back  to  the  |)lace  in 
whicli  our  child  was  lost?  It  is  now  nearing  the  anni\crsary  of  the 
disapjiearance  of  our  dear  child,  and  it  seems  good  that  we  two 
should  be  there  when  that  time  shall  come  again,  so  that  we  may 
prepare  food  there  again  just  as  we  did  when  he  was  still  with  us." 
Her  husband  replied:  "Let  il  lie  <lone  as  you  desire.  I  am  willing 
to  go." 

After  making  their  usual  prepai'ations  Ihey  again  stalled  for  their 
hunting  grounds.  They  went  most  of  the  way  by  canoe.  At  last 
they  reached  the  place  whei-e  they  liad  encamped  when  their  child 
■was  k)St,  and  they  kindled  their  tire  in  the  same  phice  again.  Then 
the  father  went  out  to  hunt  as  usual. 

One  day  the  mother  said:  "The  (hiv  has  now  come  which  is  the 
anniversary  of  the  loss  of  our  child.  We  two  shall  now  have  a  feast 
of  the  'reunion  of  the  living,'  and  we  shall  set  aside  a  portion  for 
our  lost  child:  and  it  shall  come  to  pass  just  as  if  he  were  present 
with  us."  So.  as  soon  as  the  food  was  ready,  she  set  it  on  the 
ground  in  the  usual  place  and  they  two  began  to  eat.  She  also 
took  a  portion  of  the  food  and.  setting  it  aside,  said:  "This  food 
which  1  have  set  aside  1  give  to  my  child."  AA'hen  they  had  fin- 
ished this  meal  they  ga\e  thaid<s  for  life  and  foi'  the  fond  \vhich 
natui-e  supplied  to  them. 

Then  the  mother  of  the  lost  child  said  :  "  \ow.  there  is  nothing  for 
ns  to  do  but  to  start  for  oui-  home.  Wo  will  go  back  to  the  place 
where  dwell  our  own  people.  \\\-  will  do  this  iiecause  this  jilace  is 
so  tnipleasant.  for  indeed  I  can  do  nothing  but  think  about  the  mis- 
fortune which  befell  us  two  in  the  days  which  have  past."  Her  hus- 
band, agreeing  witli  her.  said:  "T  see  no  reason  why  that,  too,  may 
not  be  done,  foi-  I.  too.  am  in  the  same  frame  of  mind  as  yon  are. 
My  thoughts  are  not  at  all  pleasant,  so  we  will  not  remain  here  any 
longer." 


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

At  that  time  they  left  the  hunting  c;unp  and  started  for  home, 
where  they  soon  arrived  by  canoe  and  a  sliort  land,  journey.  On 
their  way  the  woman  took  her  seat  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  while 
the  husband  sat  in  the  stern  and  paddled.  The  woman  wistfully 
viewed  the  banks  of  the  river  as  they  moved  along  rapidly.  When 
they  had  gone  quite  a  distance  the  woman  noticed  a  mountain  which 
stood  on  one  side  of  the  river,  and  which  was  covered  with  a  dense 
growth  of  small  shrubs  and  undergrowth.  As  she  watched  this 
mountain  top  she  was  surprised  and  agitated  to  see  her  lost  child 
walking  there  at  the  edge  of  the  dense  undergrowth.  At  once  recog- 
nizing him,  she  sprang  up  in  the  canoe,  frantically  exclaiming,  "  Oh  ! 
I  see  my  and  thy  child  again.  Look,  there  he  is  walking  along." 
The  father,  too,  recognized  their  son  whom  they  mourned  as  dead 
and  hastened  to  bring  the  canoe  to  the  river  bank  at  the  point  nearest 
to  the  place  where  the  child  had  been  seen.  As  soon  as  the  canoe 
I'eaclied  tlie  land  they  both  alighted.  The  father  then  went  directly 
toward  the  child,  who  apparently  awaited  them ;  the  mother  was 
following  at  her  husband's  heels.  But  as  they  approached  him  the 
chikl  tied  away  into  the  shrubbery,  and  they  pursued  him.  The  father 
had  some  difficulty  in  overtaking  him.  When  the  father  had  caught 
him  the  mother  came  up  to  them.  Then  the  delighted  parents  began 
to  ask  the  child  (luestions,  but  he  did  not  give  any  answer.  He  did 
not  seem  to  be  able  to  make  a  reply,  and  they  saw  that  the  child 
was  too  much  frightened  to  be  at)le  to  understand  them.  So  the 
father  lifted  him  in  his  arms  and  carried  him  back  to  the  canoe. 
They  saw  that  his  face  and  hands  and  feet  were  all  still  natural 
in  appearance,  but  that  the  other  parts  of  his  lx)dy  were  covered 
with  tine  fur;  in  this  respect  he  was  just  like  a  bear.  Again 
boarding  the  canoe  and  hastening  home,  they  soon  arrived  among 
their  ]ieople. 

After  they  had  reached  their  home  lodge  the  children  of  their 
neighbors  came  to  visit  the  newcomer,  and  they  began  to  play 
together.  At  first  it  was  quite  impossible  for  the  recovered  child  to 
converse  with  the  otlier  children;  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  was 
again  able  to  talk  even  a  little.  Gradually,  however,  he  became  able 
to  carry  on  an  extended  conversation  with  them. 

There  soon  came  a  time  when  he  voluntarily  began  to  relate  to  his 
father  and  mother  the  circumstances  under  which  he  had  been  lost, 
to  them.  He  told  them  that  a  strange  man  had  carried  him  away 
to  his  home.  The  chilil  carefully  told  what  tilings  he  liad  seen  that 
were  strange  to  him,  what  he  had  seen  when  he  had  traveled  around 
with  the  strange  peo])le,  and  what  these  people  used  for  food.  He 
said  that  the  strange  man  who  had  taken  him  away  had  instructed 
him  to  carry  back  a  message  which  he  should  relate  in  detail  to  his 


;;y;^,',^,;]  legends  663 

people.  Tliis  g;i\e  all  tiiiit  was  iiecessai'V  to  t'lialilo  thcni  to  pt'rfonu 
the  cert'mony  of  the  Bears,  and  he  also  taught  the  jjeople  all  the  songs 
of  the  Bears,  which  he  had  been  taught  by  the  Hear  people  e.\i)ressly 
to  be  taught  in  turn  to  the  people  of  the  stolen  child. 

The  chihl  told  the  peo])le  that  he  had  lived  with  the  Hear  people 
during  the  time  he  had  i)een  in  captivity.  lie  told  the  people  the 
correct  use  of  the  forketl  I'od  ni'  wnod  in  turning  away  from  the 
people  the  course  of  disease,  by  means  of  which  the  Bear  people  were 
able  usually  to  cause  the  hunter  to  pass  by  the  hiding  ]dace  of  bears, 
for  which  he  might  be  on  the  hunt. 

It  was  in  this  nuinner  that  the  Bear  ceremony  was  revealed  to 
mankind,  so  that  it  is  i)0ssible  for  them  to  perform  it.  Such  is  the 
legend  of  the  origin  of  the  Bear  ceremony,  as  it  is  called. 

I'iS.  Tui:  OiiKUN  or  Tiu:  Pigeon  Soncjs  and  Dances 

This  is  the  numiu'r  in  which  the  origin  of  the  Pigeon  songs  and 
dances  was  disclosed  to  human  beings  in  ancient  times.  These  biids 
had  foiiniMl  a  nesting  place,  or  one  might  say  more  propei'lv  that 
they  had  assembled  at  a  so-called  ])igeon  roost. 

lla\ing  I'eccived  knowledge  of  this  fortunate  circums-tance  a  great 
number  of  men  and  wnmen  with  their  children,  starting  from  ilieir 
villages,  went  to  the  place  where  the  [)igeons  had  formed  their  roost. 
In  time  these  [leople  ari'ixed  at  their  rendezvous  and  they  at  once 
began  to  build  their  temp<n'ary  camps  according  to  their  o/iirtirh/r(i.s 
and  clans  ami  kindreds. 

There  went  with  this  concoui'se  of  people  a  man  who  had  just 
reached  the  age  of  pubei-ty  and  who  had  ik)  e\il  habit>.  lie.  was  a 
very  good  pei.son.  Then  it  came  to  ])ass  that  they  iiegan  to  travel 
from  place  to  place  through  the  roost  to  kill  such  ])igeons  as  they 
needed.  .\t  this  time  the  upright  young  man  hearcl  the  tumuli 
arising  from  the  cries  of  the  jjigeons  holding  couxcrse  together'  and 
he  also  saw  the  jiigeons  in  vast  numbers  wlu'cling  in  circles. 

Suddenly  he  was  greatly  surprised  to  see  Hying  among  the  jiigeons 
one  white  in  color  as  to  its  body.  lie  watched  it  for  a  moment  Hying 
in  circles,  when,  leaving  the  others,  the  white  jiigeon  came  Hying 
toward  tlic  place  where  the  ujiright  young  man  was  standing  and 
alighted  \ery  near  to  him.  At  once  the  pigeon  began  to  sjX'ak,  say- 
ing: "Be  it  known  to  you  that  we  have  selecteil  you  to  tell  your 
people  what  it  is  we  di'sire  the  must,  what  it  is  w c  most  need.  You 
niu.st  tell  your  chief  that  we  do  not  like  to  ha\e  so  many  among  you 
who  are  in  this  place  who  do  not  remember  llim  who  has  ci-eated  us. 
There  ai-e  indeed  many  whose  thoughts  are  only  of  evil  things  which 
they  desire  to  do  to  please  themselves.  We  wish  thai  those  among you 
who  have  these  thoughts  should  put  away  evil  longings  and  pur- 


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

poses,  and  we  believe  that  whoever  does  not  do  so  will  suffer  some 
grave  misfortune. 

"  We  further  wish  you  and  your  people  to  join  with  us  as  a  custom 
in  offering  thanksgivings  to  Him  who  created  us  when  each  day 
shall  return  to  us,  and  also  when  each  evening  comes,  upon  us.  We 
think  it  is  profitable  that  this  should  come  to  pass  as  I  have  sug- 
gested. You  see  us  when  the  morning  comes  making  a  great  tunudt, 
and  you  hear  us  all  talking  while  we  circle  around  the  place  in  which 
we  have  our  roost.  The  reason  for  this  action  is  the  giving  of 
thanks.  We  are  offering  thanksgivings  to  Him  who  has  created  our 
bodies.  In  the  evening  this  again  takes  jjlace:  we  again  offer  up 
thanksgivings  to  Him ;  and  you  see  us  then  making  circles  around  our 
roosting  place,  and  there  is  the  accompaniment  of  sound  and  the  con- 
fusion of  voices  which  you  hear.  Now,  know  this:  We  are  perform- 
ing the  ceremony  of  the  dance,  and  we  are  all  singing.  This  signifies 
that  we  aie  happy ;  we  are  full  of  joy. 

"  We  have  no  remonstrance  to  make  against  your  coming  to  this 
place  seeking  to  obtain  the  young  growing  persons  of  those  whose 
bodies  are  such  as  ours.  Indeed,  you  wish  that  these  shall  become 
a  source  of  contentment  and  satisfaction — these,  the  offspring  of 
the  pigeons.  So  it  is  that  we  have  none  but  the  kindest  of  feelings 
toward  you  in  this  pursuit  of  your  desires.  You  must  know,  too,  that 
He  who  created  our  bodies  has  ordained  that  this  (flesh)  'shall  be  for 
the  welfare  and  contentment  of  human  beings  dwelling  on  the  earth. 

"  You  must  know  further  that  I,  on  whom  you  are  looking,  I, 
who  am  speaking  to  you.  am  indeed  the  oldest  person  among  my 
people,  and  it  is  on  account  of  my  great  age  that  they  have  chosen 
me  to  come  to  you  to  tell  you  our  wishes  and  to  teach  you  our 
songs.  You,  too,  are  able  to  sing  them.  It  is  needful  that  you  shall 
enjoy  yourselves;  that  j'ou  shall  dance  in  order  to  do  this:  and  that 
all  your  people  who  are  here  shall  take  part.  In  dancing  you  shall 
make  circuits  around  the  places  where  you  have  kindled  v'our  fires. 
l^Tien  you  have  finished  the  singing  and  the  dancing  you  shall  go 
with  your  chief  to  make  an  offering  of  tobacco  at  the  very  border  of 
our  encampment,  where  you  two  shall  stand  to  perform  this  cere- 
mony. When  you  have  kindled  a  fire  you  shall  cast  native  tobacco 
thereon,  and  while  thus  occupied  you  must  pray  our  Creator  to 
permit  you  and  your  people  to  pass  your  period  of  sojourn  here  in 
health  and  in  prosperity.  At  that  time  your  chief,  too,  shall  cast 
something  on  the  fire — things  of  which  you  make  daily  use.  and  these 
objects  shall  become  the  prayer  (the  word)  *^^  or  message  of  the  i^eo- 
ple.  Furthermore,  we  together,  your  and  my  people,  must  unite  in 
the  performance  of  this  ceremony,  and  we  must  also  be  of  one  accord 
when  we  make  this  prayer  and  request  of  the  Creator  of  our  bodies. 


rA;wS]  LEGENDS  665 

Xow  it  is  for  yi)U  to  return  to  your  pco])]!'  and  tell  tiiciu  I'lilly  what 
I  have  said  to  you.    This  is  what  I  ha\e  to  say." 

Then  tlie  upri<jht  young  man  replii'd  to  Ins  jiitroon  I'l-icnd  :  "  ^  our 
proposition  is  agreeable  to  nie.  and  I  will  fulfill  luy  duty  in  the 
matter  by  telling  my  ]ie(iple  all  that  yon  have  said  to  me." 

\\'ithout  further  spealcing  the  white  jiigeon  mounted  in  the  air  and 
flew  away.  The  young  man.  while  watching  it  lly  oil',  saw  a  large 
mimber  of  pigeons  moving  in  a  circle  as  they  ilew  along;  and  he 
heard  the  birds  sing,  making  a  \ery  loud  sound,  a  tumult  of  voices. 
He  listened  very  attentively  for  a  long  time  and  finally  learned 
the  songs  which  the  pigeons  were  so  loudly  singing.  Then  he  re- 
turned to  his  lodge  and  his  own  fireside. 

At  once  he  related  in  evtuy  detail  all  ihat  the  \\hile  pigeon  had 
said  to  him.  A  messenger  was  sent  for  the  chief  of  his  clan,  and 
when  he  arrived  the  u|)right  young  man  again  repeated  all  that  the 
white  pigeon  had  .said  to  him  as  to  the  duties  of  the  people  who  were 
there  to  hunt  for  s(]ual)s.  AMien  the  chief  ha<l  heard  in  great  detail 
all  that  the  young  man  report<>d  he  at  once  said  :  "  Let  this  be  done 
at  once  by  us  as  has  been  proposed  by  the  white  jiigeon.  Let  some 
one  be  detailed  to  make  a  collection  of  oll'erings,  aiul  then  we  shall 
proceed  with  the  remainder  of  the  ceremony."'  Certain  headmen 
were  directed  to  make  the  collection  of  oll'erings.  (ioing  from  lodge 
to  lodge,  they  made  a  collection  of  various  articles  pre.sented  to  them 
as  offerings  in  the  ceremony.  Some  gave  wristlets,  some  bracelets, 
some  necklaces,  while  others  contributed  articles  of  dress,  moccasins, 
and  tohac-co  of  the  nalixe  \aiiely.  \\'lien  they  had  visited  all  the 
lodges  they  returned  to  the  lodge  of  the  u]iright  yoimg  man.  where  he 
and  their  chief  awaited  tlu'iu. 

After  they  had  pro])erly  arranged  the  offerings  the  chief  said: 
"Let  us  now  start  ;  we  will  go  toward  the  place  whereon  borders  the 
]iigeon  roost  or  nesting  place."  Then  they  two  s-tarted.  the  chief  and 
the  upright  young  man.  When  they  had  icachcd  the  border  <d'  the 
pigeon  roost  they  kindled  there  a  \ery  small  lire,  and  the  young  man 
made  an  offering  of  native  tobacco  by  casting  it  into  the  fire,  at  the 
same  time  asking  the  Creator  for  the  health  and  welfare  and  content- 
ment of  all  the  pe<)])le  while  they  wei-e  at  that  place.  His  j)rayer  was 
long  and  earnest,  iuid  when  1h'  ceased  his  invocation  the  chief  stepped 
forwanl  (o  begin  his  |)rayer.  Bringing  all  the  articles  which  had 
been  offered  and  standing  before  the  fire,  he  said  in  jirayer:  "Thou 
wlio  hast  created  our  bodies,  here  lie  all  those  things  iiy  which  we 
support  our  message  (by  which  we  sujiport  its  head),  all  the  words 
of  our  prayer.  AA'e  offer  these  to  Thee.  Acce]it  them  as  a  testimony 
of  our  faith."  Then  be  laid  all  the  objects  which  he  had  brought 
near  the  fire.  Thereujion  the  two  men  returned  to  the  lodge  of  the 
upright  3'oung  man. 


666  SENECA   FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [f.th.  an.n.  32 

"When  there  the}'  went  at  once  from  lodge  to  lodge  to  call  a  council 
of  the  jDeople.  As  soon  as  the  people  had  come  together  and  had 
seated  themselves  according  to  their  families  and  their  clans  the 
chief  arose  and  addressed  them.  He  urged  them  to  I'epent  of  their 
evil  deeds  through  self-condenmation  and  to  oft'er'up  thanksgivings 
to  their  Creator  in  the  morning  and  also  in  the  evening:  he  said  to 
them  that  this  custom  should  continue  forever,  as  it  would  bring 
health  and  prosperity  and  happiness  to  all  those  who  practiced  it. 
AVhen  he  had  finished  his  addres-s  on  the  need  of  observing  faith- 
fully the  things  which  had  been  taught  them  by  the  Pigeon  people, 
he  said :  "  Now  let  us  severally  give  thanksgivings  to  the  Creator  of 
our  bodies,  and,  moreover,  we  will  dance  to  the  songs  of  the  Pigeon 
people.    Every  person  should  take  part  in  this  ceremony." 

Thereupon  the  upright  young  man  and  the  chief  took  their  sta- 
tions at  the  head  of  the  line  of  dancers.  When  all  were  in  line  and 
ready  the  young  man  began  to  sing  the  songs  of  the  pigeons,  and  all 
danced,  following  the  leaders.  In  dancing  they  made  a  circuit  of 
the  lodges,  moving  slowly  to  the  rhythm  of  the  songs  as  they  turned 
from  the  right  toward  the  left.  When  the  young  man  had  simg  all 
the  songs  the  head  of  the  line  had  reached  the  point  of  departure. 

Then  the  chief,  addressing  the  people,  said :  "  We  have  now,  indeed, 
performed  this  ceremony  as  it  has  been  taught  to  us  by  the  people  of 
the  pigeons;  and  when  we  shall  depart  from  this  place  we  must  take 
back  with  us  this  ceremony,  which  will  be  of  great  benefit  to  us.  We 
have  learned  these  songs  here  from  a  superior  people,  and  so  we 
must  cherish  this  ceremony.  AVe  have  learned,  too,  that  in  dancing 
we  must  always  make  the  circuit  of  the  fires  in  one  certain  direction, 
namely,  from  the  right  toward  the  left.  The  reason  for  this  is  that 
you  use  your  right  hands  either  to  seize  or  to  release  whatever  you 
wish,  so  it  is  necessary  that  the  right  side  at  all  times  be  on  the  out- 
side of  the  circle  of  dancers,  and  that  the  part  of  the  body  in  which 
lies  our  life  shall  at  all  times  be  on  the  inside  of  the  line  of  dancers. 
Let  us  now  make  ready  to  start  for  our  homes."  AVith  loud  shouts 
i)f  approval  and  of  exuberance  of  joy  the  dancers  returned  to  their 
lodges  to  make  preparations  to  depart  for  their  homes. 

120.  The  Legend  of  Hahadodagwat'ii.x 

Once  there  dwelt  together  a  brother  and  his  younger  sister  in  a 
lodge. 

The  brotlier  had  a  rich  suit  of  hair,  half  of  which  was  red  and  the 
other  half  black.  It  was  the  daily  occupation  of  the  brother  to  go 
out  hunting,  and  the  younger  sister  was  contented.  They  lived  thus 
in  peace  for  a  long  time. 

One  morning  the  brother  went  out  as  usual  to  hunt.  He  had  not 
been  gone  long  when  seemingly  he  returned,  laughing  and  looking  at 


,7,'™.^;]  LEGENDS  667 

his  yoiiiip'i-  si^tei'.  it  is  said.  lie  Untk  a  si-al  by  Irm-  side  as  slie  sat 
oil  her  bed  and  eiubiaeetl  her.  whei'eiipon  she  said  to  him:  "What 
has  happened  to  you  ^  "  lie  made  no  reply  but  attemjUed  lu  throw 
lier  backward  on  the  beil  wiiiie  hi'  tickled  her.  At  this  she  ex- 
claimed: "  ^()u  are  abiisinj):  me:  you  ha\e  never  before  acted  in  this 
maimer:"  and  she  struggled  with  him  as  he  continued  to  grapjjle 
Willi  her,  iiiilil  at  last  he  went  out  of  the  loclge. 

Not  long  after  this  episode  her  biother  entered  the  lodge.  Having 
been  injured,  she  was  wee])ing.  Her  brother  said  to  hei':  "  AVhat  has 
hu[)i)ened  to  you  '.  Are  you.  perlia])S.  ill  (  "  She  made  no  re]>ly  and 
Would  not  give  liini  any  food.  Tlieii  she  spoke  to  him,  saying:  ■"  It  is, 
indeed,  an  awful  thing,  the  niannei"  in  which  you  ha\e  abusi'd  nie, 
your  own  sister."  He  answei'ed  :  "What  ha\e  I  done  to  you  ^  "  She 
replied:  "  Vou  abused  nie  and  tickled  nie,  anti  desired  to  throw  me 
on  my  back.  This  is  the  reason  w  hy  my  mind  is  troubled."'  Answer- 
ing, he  .said:  "Not  in  the  least  could  I  abu.sc  you,  for  I  have  too 
much  compassion  foi'  you."  liiit  she  did  ii()t  believe  him.  Then 
he  continued,  saying.  "  Now.  it  is.  perhaps,  my  fiiend  who  has 
visited  you  and  who  looks  exactly  like  nie.  having  hair  like  mine,  of 
which  half  is  red."  Then  she  said:  "That  is  not  ti'ue:  at  all  e\ents, 
it  was  you  who  I'ame  into  the  lodge."  Thei'eupon  he  added:  "My 
friend  made  this  \isit.  because  you  liave  uou  aiii\i'(l  at  wdinauliood. 
Not  far  away  stands  the  lodge  where  mother  and  son  live:  the  .son 
is  my  frienfl."  She  told  him  that  she  would  not  believe  a  thing  he 
hacl  said  to  liei-.  He  answeivd  that  whalexer  lia|)peiied  to  him  hap- 
pened also  to  his  friend. 

The  brother  him.self  wariiud  up  some  fooil  and  ate  his  meal.  In 
the  morning  his  sister  would  not  arise,  for  she  was  still  \erv  angry 
with  him;  so  he  himself  j)repared  his  morning  meal  anil  ate  it.  When 
he  had  finished  eating  it  he  went  out  to  hunt.  Before  going,  he  said 
to  his  sister:  "Do  not  think  hard  of  the  conduct  of  my  friend,  for 
he  only  desires  to  marry  you." 

Just,  after  the  brother  had  left  he  (as  she  supposed)  returned  and 
seized  her  as  she  was  walking  along,  and  they  .struggled  desperately 
in  the  lodge.  .She  succeeded  in  scratching  him  in  the  face,  whei'e- 
upon  he  left  the  lodge  and  fled. 

When  the  sun  was  neai-ly  set  her  brother  retiniud  to  the  hulge. 
He  said  to  his  sister:  "  ( )h.  my  younger  sistei!  1  fell  among  thorns 
and  briers — that  is  why  I  am  all  scratched  up."  .She  was  indeed 
astonished  at  what  he  had  told  her.  foi'  had  she  not  herself  scratched 
him  in  the  face?  So  she  rejilied  :  "  I  for  my  part  can  not  believe  what 
yon  say."    Then  she  began  as  iisinil  to  weep. 

Finally,  the  brother  said:  "My  sister,  you  believe  that  it  is  I  who 
act  fluLs,  but  it  shall  be  made  evident  that  it  is  not  T  who  am  doing 
this.     To-morrow  as  soon  as  I  depart  the  man  will  return  anil  will 


668  SENECA   FICnON,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  1eth.ann.32 

enter  the  lodge.  As  soon  as  he  starts  to  leave  you  must  seize  his 
robe  of  skin  and  iJuU  it  off,  for  it  is  exactly  like  mine  in  all  respects." 

In  the  morning  the  brother  started,  as  was  his  custom,  on  a  hunting 
trip.  After  he  had  been  gone  only  a  short  time  a  man  suddenly 
entered  the  lodge  and  at  once  seized  the  lone  sister,  whereupon  they 
stiuggled  fiercely.  When  he  attempted  to  throw  her  on  the  groimd 
.she  exerted  her  whole  might  to  free  herself.  Having  failed  in  his 
purpose,  he  started  to  tlee  from  the  lodge.  As  the  ends  of  his  robe 
were  flying  about,  catching  hold  of  it.  she  drew  it  off,  at  which  he 
went  out  of  the  lodge  leaving  the  robe  in  her  hands,  as  its  fastening 
broke. 

It  was  not  very  long  after  this  episode  when  her  brother  reentered 
the  lodge.  He  said  to  her:  "  Has  he  made  another  visit?  "  She  re- 
plied :  "  Yes,  of  course,  he  has ;  it  is  you  yourself  returning."  She 
did  not  believe  in  the  least  what  her  brother  was  telling  her,  for  she 
felt  sure  that  it  was  he  who  was  tormenting  her.  By  this  time  her 
mind  had  greatly  changed  from  normal,  for  she  did  not  cease  from 
lamenting  her  situation,  being  so  worried  to  think  that  it  was  her 
own  brother  who  had  attempted  to  outrage  her.  She  then  handed 
him  the  torn  robe,  saying:  "Here  is  this  robe."  Taking  it,  he  said: 
"  There,  now  !  that  is  certainly  the  robe  of  my  friend.  As  to  me,  in 
hunting  I  had  climbed  a  tree  on  which  a  bear  lived  and  fell  from  it, 
and  in  the  fall  my  robe  was  torn."  Laying  the  two  robes  together 
and  finding  that  lioth  were  torn,  he  said:  "  Now  you  see  what  I  have 
been  saying  all  along  has  come  true;  whatever  happens  to  me  hap- 
pens also  to  my  friend ; "  and  he  added,  "  Well,  do  you  now  believe 
what  I  have  been  telling  you?  "  Then  she  stopped  her  weeping  and 
gazed  at  the  robes  as  they  lay  together  and  she  saw  that  they  were 
exactly  alike  in  every  i-espect.  Again  he  asked:  "Well,  now,  do  you 
believe  what  I  have  told  you?"  Rut  she  did  not  say  anything  in 
reply. 

Then  the  brother  said :  "  Your  mind  is  still  unchanged  that  it  is 
I  who  am  abusing  you,  so  now  this  shall  take  place  to-morrow.  As 
soon  as  I  start  again  I  shall  hide  myself  in  a  place  near  by.  As 
soon  as  the  man  attempts  to  attack  you  again  or  to  leave  the  lodge  you 
must  seize  him  and  not  let  him  go.  Thereupon  I  shall  come  in  and 
kill  my  friend,  and  then  it  may  })e  that  you  will  believe  me  in  saying 
that  it  is  not  I  but  my  friend  who  is  abusing  you.  We  two,  of  course, 
shall  be  doomed  to  death  because  of  my  act,  for  his  mother  has  the 
jiower  to  transff)rni  her.self  into  a  great  bear,  so  potent  in  sorceiy 
is  she." 

Since  the  beginning  of  this  ti'ouble  the  sister  had  not  prepared 
food  for  her  brotlier,  and  he  himself  made  ready  what  food  he 
needed  and  ate  his  meals.  She  refused  to  do  her  duty  because  she 
was  ver}'  angry  at  liim. 


'J,7t'?;]  legends  669 


CtRTIN 


III  the  iiiornini!:,  when  lie  had  linished  liis  meal,  he  aj^aiii  starteil 
out  to  hunt,  sayiuf^  to  his  si.•^tel•,  "  ^du  uiu.-t  ikiw  ian\v  out  luy  in- 
strnctious  as  I  ha\e  <ri\en  them  to  you."  lie.  d\d  not  go  to  his 
huutiiiir  gi-ounds,  howexcr,  liiit  hid  himself  neai-  the  lodge  and  kept 
a  faithful  watch  on  his  home.  He  had  lieen  there  (piite  a  long  time 
when  suddenly  he  perrt'ived  his  friend  I'unning  toward  the  lodge, 
whirh  he  entered,  .\fter  waiting  a  few  minutes  the  hrother  I'an  to 
the  lodge  and  on  entering  saw  his  sister  and  his  friend  struggling 
fiercely,  the  lattei-  striving  to  get  out  of  the  lodge.  .Vs  the  brother 
entered  the  man  let  go  at  once  of  the  sister,  whereujion  the  former 
said:  "My  hrother,  my  friend,  now  we  are  doouu'd  to  die.  1  can 
do  nothing  in  the  nuitter."  Making  ivady  an  ari'ow,  with  a  twang 
it  s[)ed  into  the  liieast  of  the  nuin,  where  it  stuck  (juivering,  while 
the  victim,  reeling,  fell  backward  to  the  gi-ound.  Thus  the  bi'other 
killed  the  man  who  had  been  his  friend.  Diawing  out  the  arrow 
he  e.xclaimed:  "AVell.  do  yon  now  believe  what  1  have  told  you  in 
this  nuitter'!'"     Ihit  his  sister  niailc  im  reply. 

The  strange  man  and  the  brother  did  indeed  look  iilike.  They 
were  of  the  sanu'  height:  tlu'V  had  the  same  kind  of  hair,  half  of 
it  reddish  in  coloi-:  they  had  the  same  kind  of  raiment  and  their 
robes  were  alike.  ev(^n  to  both  Inning  been  torn. 

Then  the  brothei'  said  to  his  sister:  "Now.  I  snjipose  we  nuist 
liide  the  body  of  this  man,  and.  moreoxei'.  you  nuist  liv  all  means  aid 
lue  in  this  nuitter,  foi-  now.  of  course,  we  are  both  guilty.  It  had 
been  bettei-  had  yon  consented  to  what  he  desired,  for  he  wanted 
to  marry  you.  ^\'e  will  dig  a  gra\e  where  the  lire  biu'ns — that  is, 
under  the  fireplace."  Then  they  two  dug  a  \erv  deep  grave  under 
the  fire])lace.  in  which  they  |)laced  his  body.  They  look  great 
])ains  in  cox'ering  the  gi-ave,  so  that  one  would  not  know  that  a  man's 
body  lay  bui-ied  tliel'e.  ()\ei'  the  s]'ot  they  rekindled  theii-  lire,  and 
thus  finished  the  task. 

'J'he  b|-other  I  hell  said:  "^ly  younger  sistei'.  now  have  the  courage 
to  ilo  the  best  you  can.  tor  we  two  in  a])peai'ance  at  least  niu.st  live 
as  husband  and  wife,  as  it  is  certain  that  in  one.  or  perlia])s  in  two 
days  the  woman  will  come  here.  \\'lien  she  docs  it  must  ap])ear 
that  we  are  indeed  husband  and  wife  in  order  to  mislead  her." 
Then  he  said  fni-ther:  "I  shall  not  go  to  another  place  again;  we 
shall  remain  here  together." 

So  they  dwelt  together  thus  until  the  next  day.  .Vs  soon  as  it  was 
morning  they  sat  together,  because  they  constanlly  expected  that  at 
anv  moment  the  inolher  (d'  the  dead  man  would  come  in  haste. 
Hence  they  lived  as  husband  and  wife,  and  the  brother  kept  saying 
to  his  sister:  "  He  of  good  courage:  yon  must  do  exactly  as  1  tell  you, 
for  we  must  try  to  escape  in  order  that  we  may  li\e  until  we  reach 
the  distant  place  wheiici'  we  two  started."' 


670  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  Asx.  32 

When  the  sun  had  sunk  low  in  tlie  west  the  door  flaps  were  thrust 
aside  snddenlj',  and  the  old  woman  entered  the  lodge.  They  two  who 
lived  there  were  indeed  husband  and  wife  (in  appearance).  The 
old  woman  thereujjon  said :  "  Oh  !  I  am  exceedingly  thankful  that 
now  for  certain  I  have  a  daughter-in-law."    At  this  they  two  smiled. 

The  old  woman  said  further:  "I  have  misgivings  in  my  mind, 
caused  by  the  actions  of  your  dogs.  Xone  of  them  will  accept  what 
I  offer  them  for  food.  You  should  go  there  again  to  feed  them,  and 
you  two  might  remain  there  once  overnight."' 

The  young  man  replied :  ''  So  be  it."  Jvist  then  the  fire  began  to 
sing  unexpectedly,  and  the  fire  spoke  too,  saying  three  times:  "He, 
my  friend,  has  killed  me."'  At  this  the  old  woman  exclaimed: 
"Ki/H-u'f  It  is  frightful.  It  is  an  astonishing  thing  that  is  hap- 
pening in  the  fireplace  which  you  two  have  for  yourselves;  for  it 
does  not  cease  from  saying :  '  My  friend  has  killed  me,  there  in  3'our 
fire.' "  The  young  man  answered  :  "  I  do  not  know  anything  about 
the  thing  concerning  which  you  are  perplexed."  Reaching  for  an 
arrow,  he  scraped  it.  saying:  "It  is  so  that  we  two,  I  and  my  friend, 
use  the  fire  for  the  scrapings  from  our  arrows;"  and  thereupon  he 
threw  the  scrapings  into  the  fire.  At  once  the  voice  from  the  fire  pit 
exclaimed  several  times  very  rapidly:  "My  friend  has  killed  me!" 
The  yoimg  man  again  said :  "  We  use  the  fire  for  the  scrapings  from 
our  arrows."  The  old  woman  exclaimed:  "A'yjJ-!*'.  You  two  have 
no  sense,"  and  she  then  departed.  The  young  man  said  to  her  as  she 
was  leaving  the  lodge:  "  We  will  soon  be  there." 

When  they  were  alone  he  said  to  his  sister:  "It  is  just  as  I  have 
been  .saying  right  along:  we  two  are  about  to  meet  our  death."  He 
believed  that  she  was  in  great  fear,  so  he  added,  "  Do  you  have 
courage;  and  do  not  let  it  appear  that  you  fear  anything."  Just  as 
the  sun  sank  low  in  the  west  they  started  foi-  the  place  where  stood 
the  lodge  of  the  old  woman.  They  arrived  there  just  before  night.  As 
they  entered  the  lodge  and  sat  down  in  the  place  where  the  friend  of 
the  young,  man  was  accustomed  to  sit  they  were  surprised  to  see  stand- 
ing on  one  side  a  screech  owl  and  on  the  other  a  horned  owl.  They 
were  more  distressed  when  the  screech  owl  sang  out.  "  It  is  another, 
it  is  another,  it  is  another,  it  is  another."  Then  the  old  woman  said: 
"Lo!  This  is  happening  all  the  time,  and  it  gives  me  a  troubled 
mind."  The  young  man  answered  her:  "It  is  very  sti-ange  that 
you  pay  any  heed  to  the  various  notes  of  the  screech  owl,"  and  he 
said  to  the  owl:  "Here,  this  is  what  you  eat,"  giving  it  meat.  It 
stopped  uttering  its  warning  notes  and  merely  repeated  its  usual  note 
thrice,  saying,  "I7o-fi-o-ho-w(V.^^ 

Then  all  lay  down  for  the  night,  and  the  brother  and  sister  lay 
together  in  the  place  where  the  dead  friend  of  the  brother  was  ac- 
customed to  lie.     All  of  a  sudden  the  horned  owl  cried  out :  "  ///, 


'^'"■"•"'■•1  LFGKNT/S  GTl 

UEWITtJ  l_i.nI..>l^'.->  Ull 

hi.  hi,  hi:  he  takes  to  wife  his  ymiiiger  sister."  This  it  repeated 
thrice.  At  once  the  okl  woman  arose,  saying:  "Why  do  you  two 
not  stop  it  constantly  sayinjz;,  •  lie  takes  to  wife  his  younger  sister.'" 
But  the  young  man  exclaimed :  "  Fie  upon  it!  AVhy  do  you  pay  any 
attention  to  ail  the  notes  made  by  a  comnum  horned  owl?"  With 
these  words  he  again  gave  it  meat,  wiiich  it  greedily  seized  as  lie 
said  to  it:  "Here,  take  this:  it  is  what  von  eat."  As  soon  as  it  had 
finished  eating  the  meat  it  resumed  its  regular  note,  "77/,  hi,  hi,  A/," 
'I'heii  tlip  young  man  said  to  Ids'  suspicions  host:  "  So  let  it  be;  now  lie 
down  again.""  llowevei'.  the  nld  wunian  contiinied  to  grow  moi-e  and 
more  suspicious,  for  she  began  to  lielieve  tiiat  something  had  per- 
hajis  happened  to  her  son  and  that  lie  was  no  longer  alive.  At  mid- 
night the  brother  said  to  his  sister:  '"  ^'ou  must  lie  as  still  as  possible 
and  I,  too,  shall  do  the  same :  we  must  pretend  to  be  asleep."  They  at 
once  began  seemingly  to  snore,  but  of  course  they  wei-e  not  snoring: 
they  did  not  know  what  the  old  woman  would  do  should  they  fall 
asleep. 

The  old  woman  arose  very  stealthily  while  the  notes  of  the  owls 
continued,  the  screech  owl  saying.  "It  is  another,  it  is  another,  it  is 
another,"  and  the  hornecj  owl.  "///.  hi.  hi.  hi:  he  takes  his  younger 
sister  to  wife."  Cree])ing  slowly  omt  to  the  spot  where  the  two  were 
lying,  and  thrusting  her  hand  under  tlie  cnxei'ings.  the  old  woman 
made  an  examination  of  (heir  pri\ate  parts,  after  which  she  ex- 
claimed :  ■•  Pshaw  I  ( )f  course  things  are  as  they  are  with  those  who 
do  as  married  peo]ile  ai'c  accustomed.""  Then  she  went  back  to  her 
[lart  of  the  lodge  and  again  lay  down. 

In  the  morning  the  old  woman  pivpared  the  morning  meal,  and 
all  ate  their  breakfast.  A\'heii  they  hail  finished  eating  the  old 
woman  said:  "I  have  mysterious  premonitions.  I  \isite(l  the  jilace 
there  where  thy  friend  has  kiniUed  a  lire,  and  it  says  continually. 
'My  own  friend  has  kille<l  me:  my  own  friend  has  killed  me:  my 
own  friend  has  l<illc(l  me.'"'  The  young  man  leplied:  ''Pshaw! 
It  is  foolish  to  i^ay  any  attention  to  that  noise,  for  it  is  caused  by 
our  scra])ing  arrows  there."'  .Vs  he  s])olce  he  got  his  arrow  and  began 
scraping  it.  and  cast  the  litter  into  \\\r  (ii-e.  w]iei-eu]ion  the  tire  said 
several  times.  "  My  own  fi-iend  has  killed  ine."'  He  addeil.  "  Now 
cease  paying  any  attention  to  such  idle  things."  The  old  woman 
rejilied.  "  So  be  it.  as  you  say."" 

Then  the  young  man  said:  "Oh.  mother!  A^'e  two  will  now  go 
back  to  the  othei-  j^lace.  T  said  that  of  a  certainty  wc  would  re- 
main licri'  only  one  night,  and  perhaps  now  my  brother-in-law  is 
anxious  about  us."'  The  old  woman  replied:  "So  let  it  be  as  you 
ha\e  spoken."  He  answered:  '"In  two  days  we  two  will  return 
again."  So  they  started  ff)r  their  home,  where  they  arrived  all  light. 
Then  the  young  man  said  to  his  si~ter:  "The  only  thing  left  for  us 


672  SENECA   FICnON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  32 

to  do  is  to  make  preparations  to  escape.  You  shall  take  the  lead  and 
I  will  remain,  and  I  shall  overtake  you  if  it  so  be  that  I  shall  sur- 
vive."' 

The  brother  then  drew  from  under  the  couch  whereon  he  was  ac- 
customed to  lie  a  small  case  and  took  therefi'om  a  very  small  black 
dog  and  a  little  rod  of  red  willow.  Ho  used  the  rod  to  tap  lightly 
■the  dog,  which  immediately  began  to  grow  in  size.  At  first  he  said : 
"  It  is  not  yet  large  enough,"  although  the  dog  was  then  of  the  size 
of  ordinary  dogs.  So  he  tapped  it  again  and  it  continued  to  grow 
and  had  now  reached  the  size  of  the  largest  kind  of  dogs.  Yet  he 
said :  "  Still  I  do  not  think  the  dog  is  large  enough,  for  it  is  not  yet 
large  enough  for  you  to  ride  astride  of  it;"  so  he  tapped  it  with  still 
other  blows,  which  caused  it  to  grow  in  size.  It  had  become  at  last 
a  very  large  dog. 

Having  done  this,  he  said  to  his  sister :  '•  You  two  shall  go  together. 
This  shall  be  done  on  the  way:  As  soon  as  you  become  wearied,  the 
dog  will  stoi3  beside  a  tree,  and  then  you  must  descend  from  his  back; 
and  as  soon  as  he  becomes  tired  he  will  likewise  stop  beside  a  tree. 
You  must  watch  for  this,  and  then  you  must  descend  from  his  back, 
and  run  ahead  as  fast  as  it  is  possible  for  you  to  go.  Thus  you  two 
must  make  your  way  homeward.  You  must  keep  a  course  directly 
eastward  without  fail.  You  two  must  remain  in  camp  at  night  on 
the  way;  and  you,  my  sister,  must  lie  down  beside  the  dog's  body. 
You  two  must  not  get  far  apart  from  each  other,  and  you  must  take 
rests.  He  himself  knows  when  you  should  rest,  and  you  must  regu- 
late your  actions  by  what  he  does,  for  it  is  a  fact  that  he  is  our  brother. 
You  must  know.  too.  that  it  is  uncertain  whether  you  will  see  the  old 
woman,  who  is  imnnme  to  the  arts  of  sorcery  and  who,  too,  is  able, 
it  may  be,  to  overcome  our  orenda  (magic  power).  It  seems  uncer- 
tain whether  you  shall  again  see  Hahadodagsvafha ;  it  is  uncertain, 
I  say,  for  verily,  it  is  I  who  am  called  Hahadodagwat'ha."  Then  he 
added:  "  Now,  you  two  flee;  "  whereupon  the  younger  sister  mounted 
the  dog's  l)ack,  and  her  brother  again  spoke  to  her,  saying:  "Have 
courage.  We  shall  have  the  good  fortune  of  your  safe  arrival  in 
the  place  where  our  mother  dwells." 

Thereupon  the  two  started  away  in  great  haste,  the  brother  remain- 
ing alone  in  the  lodge. 

As  the  sister  rode  the  dog,  he  would  stop  beside  a  tree,  whereupon 
she  would  say:  "Oh,  now!  my  brother  has  become  quite  wretched, 
and  I  suppose  he  is  now  very  tired."  With  this  she  would  descend 
from  his  back,  and  they  two  would  go  on.  They  kept  a  certain  course, 
directly  toward  the  cast.  Having  gone  a  great  distance,  they  two 
would  stop  for  the  night,  and  the  young  woman  lay  down  right  be- 
side the  dog.  In  the  morning  they  would  again  start  on  their  jour- 
ney.    After  going  only  a  short  distance,  the  dog  would  again  stop 


^li«TS]  LEGENDS  673 

beside  :i  tree.  Then  the  y()ini<;:  wniiian  would  say:  "  (  )h  !  my  hi-dthei- 
is  to  be  pitied;  now  he  wants  to  bear  me  again  on  his  hack,  I  sup- 
pose." So  saying,  she  would  mount  tlie  dop,  whicli  at  once  wouKl 
start  running  with  her.  When  at  midday  the  dog  stoppeil  beside  a 
tree,  the  woman  said:  "I  suppose  lie  is  now  tired  out."  descending 
from  his  back.  As  the  dog  ci'ouciied  (.U)wn  slie  deci(h>d  tliat  it  (k>- 
sired  tliat  tliey  siiouM  take  some  rest.  Then  the  dog  h>y  down 
near  by,  and  she  seated  herself  close  to  him,  saying:  "  I  suppose  he  is 
now  asleep,  being  very  tiicd."" 

Thus,  she  sat  for  a  long  time  looking  aro\uid.  S\iddi'uly  a  line- 
looking  bird  aliglilvd  near  her,  which  she  i-e.solved  to  catch.  \\'hen 
she  was  about  to  seize  it.  the  bird  would  Hy  away,  hut  would  usually 
alight  again  a  little  way  from  lis  former  pcr<'li.  When  the  yoimg 
woman  would  run  up  to  it  with  the  intention  of  seizing  it,  it  would 
fly  away  just  in  time  to  foil  her  pui-pose.  Thus  she  ]iursueil  it  a 
little  farther,  still  a  little  farther,  luit  coiiM  nol  latcli  it.  :d though  she 
was  deternnned  to  do  so. 

Suddenly  she  heard  the  loud  harking  of  a  dog  w  Inch  was  ajiproach- 
ing,  saying.  Wu'.'wu',  irii' .  and  at  once  she  ran  toward  the  place,  then 
quite  distant,  where  lay  the  dog.  When  she  returned  to  this  place 
the  dog  was  gone,  for  it  had  i-esumed  its  coni-se  and  was  barking  as  it 
went  farther  and  farthei-.  \i  last  it  disappeared  in  the  distam-e. 
Then  the  young  woman  began  to  wee]),  indeed,  and  she  rejjcated  the 
words  of  her  elder  brother:  "  Wn\  must  not  change  your  cour.se,  but 
you  must  keep  going  directly  eastward."  While  she  was  so  engaged 
her  brother,  Hahadodagwafha.  arrived  there,  having  overtaken  hci-. 

lie  remained  for  two  days,  when  the  footste]is  of  some  one  were 
heard  hy  him,  ami  suddenly  the  old  woman,  entering  the  lodge, 
said:  "Lo!  Where  is  your  wifef  He  answered:  "Did  you  not 
meet  them  on  the  way  ^  "  "I  did  not,"  she  replied.  lie  said  to 
her:  "It  may  be  that  while  you  and  they  were  gathering  things  by 
the  way  you  missed  one  another."  The  old  woman  answei-ed : 
"Oh,  that  is  true,  of  course,  I  suppose.  Without  ceasing,  his  ])ets 
are  uttering  notes.  .\t  times  my  mind  is  deejjly  troubled  by  this 
state  of  affairs.  So  let  it  he.  I  shall  now  go  back  to  the  othei- 
place,  for  they  have  probably  ai-rived  there  now ." 

In  a  very  short  time  the  old  woman  departed  foi'  her  home.  Knn- 
ning  through  bypaths,  the  young  man  i-eached  it  ahea(l  of  the  old 
woman,  who  found  him  sitting  there  when  she  ai'rived.  Her  son's 
pets  were  making  a  great  noise  when  she  entered  the  lodge,  whereupon 
she  said:  "Lol  Where  is  my  daughter-in-law  ?  "  He  answered  her 
sneeringlv:  ''  Pshaw  I  My  daughtei'-in-law,  you  say  !  AVhy.  she  has 
gone  home.  When  she  and  I  returned  there  all  the  food  was  ex- 
haustecf,  so  she  longed  for  her  mother.  I  said  that  in  two  days'  time 
9401.5°— IG 43 


674'  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ANS.  32 

we  would  return  here."  Thereupon  the  screech  owl  kept  saying: 
"  It  is  another  one,  it  is  another  one,  it  is  another  one,"  while  the 
horned  owl  said :  "///,  h!,  ki,  hi ;  he  has  taken  his  younger  sister  to 
wife;  hi,  hi,  hi,  hi.'"  Finally,  the  old  woman  exclaimed:  "I  am  be- 
ginning to  give  attention  to  what  is  being  said,  for  they  have  never 
before  during  the  time  you  have  had  them  as  pets  acted  in  this  man- 
ner." In  reply  the  young  man  said:  "Pshaw!  you  are  all  the  time 
paying  attention  to  what  they  are  saying:  instead  you  must  give  them 
meat,  and  then  they  will  st(ip  as  usual.  This  is  ail  you  have  to  do  tu 
quiet  them."  Then  he  started  for  his  own  lodge,  saying:  "After  two 
days'  time  you  must  again  go  there." 

The  oidy  tiling  lie  did  when  he  arrived  at  his  lodge  was  to  make 
preparations  for  leaving,  and  wlien  everything  was  ready  he  departed. 
Ho  followed  his  sister,  keeping  on  the  track  made  by  the  dog  as  it 
ran  along  homeward.  He  had  tied  some  distance  when  his  body  be- 
came very  weak. 

At  the  end  of  two  days  the  old  woman  went  to  the  lodge  of  the 
young  people,  where  she  found  no  one.  Turning  to  the  fire  pit  in  her 
great  anxiety  she  was  surprised  by  hearing  the  fire  again  say,  thrice 
in  succe&sion :  "  My  friend  has  killed  me."  Thus  it  spoke.  There- 
upon the  old  woman  said :  ''  Oh !  my  son  lies  there  where  I  have  been 
thinking  he  lay  all  the  time.  It  is  exceedingly  dismal  to  think  of." 
Then  she  began  to  dig  up  the  fireplace;  and  she  found  him  lying  there 
with  his  face  upturned  and  an  arrow  sticking  througli  the  middle  of 
his  breast.  At  this  discovery  she  began  to  weep  and  lament,  saying : 
"Oh,  my  dear  child !  you  have  indeed  become  wretched.  When  I 
have  killed  them  I  will  return  to  pay  the  last  rites  to  you."  So  say- 
ing, she  went  out  of  the  lodge  and  started  for  her  home. 

Having  an'ived  at  her  lodge,  she  took  from  a  bark  receptacle  in 
which  it  was  kept  hickory-nut  meat  and  ate  it,  making  the  sounds, 
^^Gaoi'i\  gaoTC,  gaoiV^''  and  saying,  too,  "  I  shall  fortify  my  body  with 
this  meat."  AVhen  she  had  finished  eating  her  meal  she  went  out  of 
the  lodge,  and  going  to  a  neighboring  tree,  by  her  great  strength  she 
tore  off  a  great  part  of  it  with  her  paws.  Exclaiming,  "  I  do  not 
think  that  this  will  suffice,"  she  reentered  tlie  lodge  and  ate  more  of 
the  hickory-nut  meat.  Then  she  exclaimed,  "  Now  I  wonder  whether 
(his  will  do."  Going  again  to  the  tree  she  tore  it  into  shreds,  and 
then  exclaimed,  "This  is  now  sufficient:  I  have  sti-ength  enough." 

Then  she  started  away,  running  swiftly.  She  had  become  a  Ijear 
of  enormous  size  and  power.  Going  to  the  place  where  the  tracks  of 
the  fugitives  showed  the  direction  they  had  taken,  and  placing  her 
paws  on  the  jiath  along  which  they  had  fled,  she  exclaimed :  "  It  is 
impossible  for  you  to  escape  even  though  you  should  have  gone  to 
the  end  of  the  earth."  With  these  words  she  started  in  piu'suit  of 
the  fugitives.     As  she  ran  along  she  often  placed  her  jjaws  on  the 


--'?,;]  LEGENDS  ■  675- 

traclv  niiule  Ity  tlio  youiii;  iii;m.  ami  this  ad  rausi'd  him  to  rcfl  ami 
stajr^er,  so  ]ioti'nt  with  c\  il  orcmhi  was  tin'  hotly  of  tlic  old  woman. 
Tiicy  wiM'e  at  lliis  time  two  days"  journey  apai't,  hut  the  old  woman, 
who  had  transi'oi-med  herself  into  a  huf^e  hear,  was  rapidly  oMTtaking 
the  fujritives,  every  moment  drawinij  nearei'  and  iicarei'  to  thi'm,  for 
she  was  indeed  lanmini;;  r-apidly. 

{''inally  (he  youni^  man  o\erheard  the  olil  woman,  wlio  Inid  I'esumed 
her  real  chai-aeler  (that  of  a  >i,i\-.\l  hear),  say:  "Thou  shalt  suridy 
die."  As  he  listened  to  the  wolds  he  di'ew  from  his  fawn-skin  jxiuch 
the  feather  of  a  wild  piij:eon.  Caslinj^  this  hack  of  him  he  made  tho 
imoeation:  "Ivi^ht  away  let  there  he  a  roost  of  pijjjeons  here  and  let 
their  numhers  he  so  irreat  that  their  dro])j)in<;s  shall  foiin  a  rami)art 
strctchiuij  across  the  woild  and  e(|ual  in  heiuht  to  half  that  of  the 
tallest  tree."  As  soon  as  he  had  liiushed  speakin<^  the  air  resounded 
with  the  sounds  made  hy  the  ali<ihlin<i  of  many  thousands  of  wild 
pif^eons;  amoni^  these  sounds  one  heard,  d'Hk,  <j<ik,  (/u/i,  'ju/i',  and 
/>u 


III — //( 


453 


'i'here  was  no  possihility  for  anyone  else  to  ]i()ssess  more  oicnda 
than  that  possessetl  hy  the  3()unjj:  man;  so  he  ])a>sed  on,  and  hehind 
him  the  j^reat  })eai'  came  on  a  run.  The  monster  ai'rived  at  the  roost- 
ing [)lace  of  the  wild  pigeons.  There  was  a  rampart  of  their  drop- 
l^ings  extending  upward  half  the  height  of  the  talli'st  trees.  The 
hear  made  an  attem])t  to  force  its  way  thi-ough  the  great  ranipai't  of 
<li'oppings,  hut  was  unahle  to  do  so.  merely  heconnng  thoroughly 
covered  with  the  lillli.  It  was  not  ea^'  foi-  the  monster  to  e.xtrieuto 
herself  from  the  gi'eat  rami>art,  hence  slu'  decided  on  anothei'  course 
of  action. 

She  started  on  a  run  along  the  i-ampart"s  edge,  saying:  "There  has 
never  heen  a  time  when  a  pigeon  loost  extendetl  across  the  world." 
After  following  the  ram])art  for  a  long  time  she  heeame  tired  and 
returned  to  the  place  where  the  tracks  of  the  fugitive  seemingly  en- 
tered the  rampart,  where  she  lay  down  l'oi-  the  inght.  In  the  morn- 
ing IhiM'e  was  nothing  to  he  sei'u,  fiu'  the  I'ampart  had  disa])])eared. 
Thei'eupon  the  licar  e\claimi'(l :  "How  exceedingly  unfortunate  this 
is;  verily,  he  is  a  great  wizard."  Starting  in  pursuit  again,  she 
]daeed  her  paws  on  the  track  of  the  young  man,  causing  him  to 
stagger  and   reel. 

Not  long  after  this  he  heard  her  sjjeak  again,  saying:  "  Thnu  sluilt 
surely  die."  At  these  words  the  young  uum  took  from  his  ]ionch  a 
piece  of  rock,  which  he  east  hehind  him  with  the  words:  "Let  a  rock 
clilf  rise  here  at  once  which  shall  reach  across  the  woi'ld  and  which 
nothing  shall  lunc  the  power  of  clearing,  nothing  that  has  unusual 
orenda."  With  this  the  young  man  passed  on,  but  as  soon  as  he  had 
cea.sed  speaking  the  rock  clitf  stood  com|)l<'le.  In  a  sliort  time  tho 
great   bear  arrived   at  this  cliff.     She   failed   in   an  attempt  to  go 


676  SENECA   FICTIOK,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth".  ann.  32 

through  in  several  phices,  as  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  pass  this 
obstruction.  Next  she  ran  along  the  side  of  the  cliff,  saying:  "  AVe 
have  never  heard  of  a  rock  clitf  that  extends  across  the  world."  But 
after  going  a  long  distance  the  bear,  becoming  weary,  returned  to 
the-  spot  where  the  track  of  the  young  man  disappeared  under  the 
cliif.  There  she  stopj^ed  for  the  night.  In  the  morning  there  was 
no  rock  cliff  to  be  found,  whereupon  the  great  bear  said:  "How  ex- 
ceedingly distressing  tliis  is."  At  once  placing  her  paw  on  the  track 
made,  by  the  young  man,  she  added :  "  Indeed,  he  is  a  mighty  wizard." 
At  this  the  fugitive  reeled  and  staggered,  and  the  old  woman  in  the 
form  of  a  great  bear  again  pursued  him. 

He  had  not  gone  very  far  when  suddenly  he  heard  ahead  the  sing- 
ing of  a  man:  Agada'afljah'n^lga  so'djV  en"  ag-was'  d-eiodPd'det. 
Allien  the  young  man  came  up  to  him  the  singer  said :  "  My  dear 
nephew,  have  courage.  I  shall  detain  the  monster  with  difficulties. 
It  has  not  been  long  since  your  younger  si.ster  passed  here,  and  now 
there  is  nothing  intervening.  So  have  courage.  Your  mother's  lodge 
sfands  not  far  from  here." 

So  the  young  man  pas-sed  on.  Tlie  man  wlio  had  lieen  singing  set 
up  many  pikes,  and  when  he  had  finished  his  work  he  was  surprised 
to  see  coming  toward  him  a  great  beast.  Soon  the  bear  came  up  to  the 
place  where  he  set  his  pikes  and  assaulted  them  with  great  force. 
These  gave  way  to  a  small  extent,  t\'hereupon  the  two,  tlie  great  bear 
and  the  man,  who  had  now  assumed  his  true  character,  gi-appled.  In 
their  long  struggle  the  pikes  were  broken,  and  the  great  bear,  at  once 
freeing  herself,  again  ran  onward. 

Suddenly  the  young  man  saw  running  ahead  of  him  his  sister,  wlio 
was  nearly  exhausted.  Overtaking  her,  the  young  man  said  to  her 
after  seizing  her  arm:  "Have  courage,  my  younger  sister.  We  are 
to  die  perhaps,  I  think." 

They  lost  no  time  but  at  once  fled.  They  went  a  long  distance  be- 
fore they  stopped  to  camp  for  the  night.  In  the  morning  he  said : 
"  We  will  take  this  direction."  Having  cut  a  rod  of  red  willow  he 
struck  the  dog  with  it  three  blows.  At  once  the  animal  became  very 
small  and  he  placed  it  in  his  bosom. 

At  the  point  toward  which  they  were  running  they  suddenly  saw 
what  seemed  to  be  a  rock  cliff,  in  which  was  an  open  cavern.  Out  of 
this  a  female  jiersonage  was  looking  and  saying:  "Have  courage, 
my  children.  You  two  will  live  if  you  will  come  in  here."  At  that 
time  the  brother  was  dragging  his  sister  along,  so  exhausted  had  she 
become.  As  they  came  to  the  entrance  to  the  cavern  the  woman 
thrust  out  her  hand,  and  seizing  the  arm  of  the  young  woman,  helped 
draw  her  into  the  cavern,  while  the  young  man  also  enterecL  The 
woman  exclaimed  :  "  I  am  thankful  that  you  two  have  returned  alive. 
Tliat  animal  which  is  cominir  on  the  run  shall  suffer  for  this." 


HEWI 


!^.;]  LEGENDS  677 


It  SO  liappened  tliat  there  was  a  kettle  of  Iioiliiip  oil  over  the  liiv; 
this  boiling  oil  was  bear's  fat.  The  beast  came  on  the  run  to  tlie 
o]ieniiif>;  of  the  t-ncrn,  and,  crouehin<r  low,  thrust  in  her  nose.  At  imre 
the  mother  of  the  two  fugiti\es  cast  a  huUefiil  of  boiling  oil  into  the 
face  of  the  great  bear.  'I'lie  pain  cau.sed  made  the  bear  fail  o\ cr 
backward  some  distance  fiom  the  cavern,  and  she  began  to  howl  and 
w  rithe  around  on  the  ground.  But  the  relentless  old  woman  carrietl 
out  the  kettle  of  boiling  oil  to  the  spot  and  jioured  the  remainder  on 
her  enemy,  which  iinally  died  thei'e  in  great  agony,  just  as  the  old 
>voman  had  threatened. 

Then  the  old  woman,  their  mother,  said  to  the  two  returned  chil- 
dren: "  You  two  who  have  been  al)S(.'nt  for  so  long  a  time  have  now 
retui'iied  lionic  again:  and  I  suppfi.se  that  you  would  lia\e  iieen  made 
capti\es  had  you  not  escaped.  Now.  you  and  1  will  dwell  together 
again."  Thereafter  the  mother  and  her  children  were  again  con- 
tented in  their  minds  and  dwelt  together  happily.*'* 

Suddenly  he  saw  a  man  lying  prostrate  with  his  feet  in  the  water, 
who  was  gi'oaning  and  saying.  V/T',  V/7',  V/7'.  Hahadodagwafha  said 
to  him:  "Well,  what  is  the  uiatier  with  ym.  niv  friend  T'  The  man 
re])li(Hl:  "  I  am  veiy  ill:  have  pity  on  me  and  take  me  to  a  dry  place, 
and  lay  me  theie."  Unsus])ecting.  the  young  man  said:  "So  be  it. 
I  suppose  that  1  can  cany  you  on  my  bai-k."  AVhen  he  knelt  down, 
the  strange  uum  had  great  ditliculty  in  gelling  on  his  back  and  in 
securing  a  hold  on  the  young  man's  neck. 

■j'hen  Hahadodagwafha  aidse.  and  going  a  .short  distance  to  a  dry 
and  pleasant  piece  of  ground,  said  to  his  patient:  "  Now,  you  i-an  lie 
here.""  I>ut  the  stranger  rejilied  :  "Oh  I  just  a  little  farther.'"  Rut 
I  laliadodagwatiia  answered,  "  Tje  down  here."'  The  man  would  not 
consent  to  dismount,  howexer,  but  kept  on  saying:  "()nly  a  liltl(> 
farther.  "  ."^o  Hahadodagwafha  went  some  distance,  when  he  said 
again  :"  Nt)w.  get  oil';  this  is  a  liiu'  plai-e  in  which  you  can  lie  down."' 
Hut  the  man  persisted  in  saying:  "Only  a  little  farther."  Ilahado- 
<lagwaf  ha  would  not  con.sent  to  carry  him  any  fai'ther,  saying:  "  "^'ou 
must  now  uet  down  liy  all  means."  Thereupon  he  began  to  shake 
himself  with  great  violence,  saying:  "(let  down  I  Why  do  you  not 
get  down  ^  "'  Ihit  the  man  would  not  get  otf  his  back,  although 
Ilahadodagwat'lia  told  him  that  he  was  \ery  tired.  Then,  going  to 
a  hickory  t  I'ce  standing  near  by.  Hahadodagwafha  said:  "  If  yoti  do 
not  get  down,  I  will  rub  you  olf  against  this  tree:"  but  the  man 
remained  \\  ithotit  making  any  reply.  Hahadodagwafha  rubbe(l  his 
body  violently  against  the  hiclvory  tree  standing  there,  saying  the 
while:  "  \\'hy  do  you  not  get  down  ^  "  But  he  him.si'lf  was  injured 
by  the  rubbing,  so  he  ga\-e  ii])  the  task.  He  said:  "This  man  has 
caused  me  great    ( ])ros|)ecti\  e  )  trouble.""     l'"or  m  long  time  hi'  conlin- 


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

ued  bearing  his  burden  around  from  place  to  place.  Finally  he 
exclaimed :  "  It  is  very  distressing  to  me  that  you  do  not  get  off  my 
back."' 

At  last  Hahadodagwat'ha  decided  on  more  heroic  measures.  He 
kindled  a  lot  of  dry  fagots,  and  he  made  a  large  and  very  hot  fire. 
Then  he  asked  the  man  again:  "What  have  you  decided  to  do? 
Why  do  you  not  get  off  my  back?"  Making  no  reply,  the  man 
remained  on  his  back.  Thereupon  the  young  man  proceeded  to  lie 
down  with  his  back  to  the  fire  in  an  attempt  to  burn  oli'  his  tor- 
mentor. But  the  man,  notwithstanding  the  great  heat,  stuck  fast. 
In  a  short  time  Hahadodagwat'ha  himself  was  not  able  to  stand  the 
intense  heat,  for  his  own  skin  began  to  scorch.  Being  thus  baffled 
again,  he  stood  up.  He  said  to  his  tormentor :  "  This  conduct  on  your 
part  is  very  distressing  to  me ;  now  you  nnd  I  must  die  together."  But 
he  received  no  reply  from  the  man.  Hahadodagwatiia  was  indeed 
Tery  tired  from  carrying  this  burden  around  from  i^lace  to  place. 
Finally  he  decided  on  another  course  of  action.  Going  to  a  very 
high  and  steep  cliff  and  l.ving  down  on  the  edge,  he  said  to  his 
tormentor :  "  I  will  roll  over  the  brink  unless  you  get  off  my  back." 
There  was  no  reply  to  these  remonstrances.  The  man  merely  kept 
on  breathing.  Lastly  Hahadodagwat'ha  said  to  him  thrice:  "Now, 
get  off  my  back ; "  but  the  man  remained  silent,  as  before.  There- 
upon the  former  exclaimed :  "  AVe  two  now  die ! ''  at  the  same  time 
rolling  over  the  brink.  The  two  turned  over  and  over,  but  fell 
slowly,  their  bodies  finally  coming  down  very  lightly  on  the  bottom 
of  the  chasm.  Then  the  young  man  said :  "  Xow,  get  off  of  my 
back;  I  am  very  tired."'  Still  the  man  would  not  in  the  least  heed 
this  pleading. 

Once  more  the  young  man  said :  "  You  shall  now  get  off  my  back." 
Going  aside,  he  stripped  off'  basswood  bark,  of  which  he  made  a  noose. 
Climbing  an  elm  tree  near  by,  he  carried  his  burden  to  the  very 
top,  where  he  fastened  the  rope  to  a  large  branch  and  the  noose 
around  the  neck  of  the  man  on  his  back  and  also  around  his  own. 
When  he  was  ready  he  again  said:  "  Look  here !  If  you  do  not  get 
off  my  back,  we  two  shall  die  now  indeed."  But  the  man  made  no 
reply.  Then  the  young  man  said:  "I  will  now  cast  my  body  down 
to  that  place  yonder."  Before  doing  so  he  again  asked  the  man: 
"  Shall  we  two  live  ?  It  is  for  you  to  decide.  Get  down  from  my 
back."  But  still  he  received  no  reply  to  his  pleadings.  Without  f)ir- 
ther  parley  he  said :  "  Now,  we  two  shall  die,"  and  cast  himself  down. 
But  the  great  branch  broke  off*^^  and  floated  down  slowly  imtil 
it  rested  on  the  ground.  Arising,  the  young  man  said :  "This  is 
exceedingly  distressing  to  me.  You  have  made  me  very  tired,  and 
I  am  almost  exhausted."     But  he  received  no  mercv  from  the  man. 


[/^^^.Vy  LEGENDS  679 

Suddenly  he  remembered  that  lie  luid  in  his  bosom  a  very  small 
do<j.  w  hereupon  he  started  to  liud  a  let^l-willow  rod.  bearing  at  the 
same  time  his  burden.  Soon  he  found  the  desiivd.  rod.  which  he  cut 
oil'.  Takinfi:  I'roni  his  bo><>m  the  doL',  which  was  black  in  color,  he 
bepan  to  striki'  it  with  the  led-willow  md.  At  once  the  do<;  bejian  to 
increase  greatly  in  size:  soon  it  became  the  usual  size  of  ilofis.  Addi- 
tional strokes  caused  it  to  grow  larger  and  larger  until  at  last  it 
attained  the  size  of  a  very  large  beai'.  one  of  the  largest  known. 
Then  the  young  man  .saiil  to  the  tlog:  "  -My  servant,  remove  from  my 
back  the  body  of  the  man  who  is  clinging  theiv,"  saying  "  11 '«"»." 
-Vt  once  the  monstrous  dog.  seizing  the  man  by  the  back  of  the  neck, 
began  to  shake  him  with  great  force.  The  body  of  I  lahadoilagwafha 
was  whirled  about  in  the  terrific  struggle,  in  which  the  gripped 
op])onents  fell  and  arose  in  many  places:  the  stiaiggle  lasted  until 
the  dog  seizi'd  the  man  by  the  throat  and  i)egan  to  choke  him.  In  a 
siiort  time  it  was  able  to  jMdl  oil'  ihe  man  and  to  lling  his  body  aside. 
Then  Ilahadodagw  afiia  sat  near  by  nntd  his  tormentor  ilied.  for  he 
himself  was  entirely  exhausted. 

Then  he  said:  "Come  here,  my  dog!  I  am  thaidiful  to  you,  for 
you  have  saved  me  fi'om  destruction.  You  are  the  cause  of  my  being 
now  alive.  Let  us  two  start  for  home  and  let  us  go  to  the  place 
where  dwell  together  they  who  are  your  brothers."  So  they  started 
aiul  went  on  for  some  distance  aiul  then  encamped  for  the  night. 
Thereupon  the  young  man  said:  "As  regards  me,  1  am  very  hungry; 
so  it  behooves  you  to  kill  a  deer."  At  once  the  dog  ran  afar  olf.  and  in 
a  short  time  it  returned,  dragging  along  the  body  of  a  faw  n.  This  the 
young  man  skinned,  and  after  (piartering  the  carca.ss  he  set  pieces  of 
it  all  around  the  tire  to  roast.  It  was  night,  and  w  hen  the  roasts  were 
done  they  two  ate  their  supjK'r.  the  man  and  the  dog.  shai'ing  the 
meat.  In  the  morning  they  again  started  for  their  home,  and  they 
kept  traveling  until  they  stopped  for  the  night.  In  turn  the  young 
man  went  hunting  for  raccoons,  climbing  a  tree  :n  order  to  kill  them. 
Having  dressed  and  cooked  a  raccoon,  they  ate  it.  When  they  had 
finished  eating,  they  laid  down  together,  the  man  and  his  dog. 

In  the  morning  they  two  started,  and  they  had  not  gone  far  when 
they  saw  in  the  distance  a  lodge.  In  this  they  were  surjii-ised  to  find 
a  man  half  of  whose  hair  was  red,  and  there  they  found,  too,  the 
younger  sister  of  the  young  man.  The  latter  said:  "Now  has  re- 
t  urned  our  brother  who  was  lost,  the  1  )og."  They  asked  him  :  "  AVhere 
did  yon  two  meet?"  He  answered:  "We  met  at  the  ])lace  of  high 
cliffs.  It  was  he  who  saved  my  life  when  I  was  in  danger  of  death. 
This  is  the  reason  why  we  ha\e  been  able  to  return  to  the  place 
where  you  two,  his  bi-other  and  sister,  dwell  and  where  your  mother 
also  dwells.  Now  I  give  myself  up  here  where  you  dwell,  and  we 
shall  all  be  toiiether  alwavs,  because  he  has  saved  mv  life  and  is 


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

your  brollRT.  1,  too,  am  a  inaster  of  game  and  a  good  hunter.  So 
we  shall  be  very  contented  in  our  minds."  Then  the  man  half  of 
whose  hair  was  red  said:  "  So  be  it.  I,  too.  am  a  good  hunter,  and 
I  will  also  help  to  make  ourselves  contented."  Thus  did  they  make 
a  compact  that  tliey  would  all  compose  a  single  family  for  all  time. 
This  is  the  lengtji  of  the  legend. 

130.  The  Story  of  IIahskwahot  "" 

In  times  past  there  M-as  a  boy  who  spent  his  time  in  hunting  birds 
to  kill  and  in  cooking  and  eating  them. 

On  one  of  his  exjieditions  he  came  to  a  large  rock,  beside  which  he 
took  his  seat  to  rest,  for  it  was  drawing  toward  sunset,  and  began 
to  make  arrow  points. 

Willie  seated  there  a  man  spoke,  saying:  ''I  shall  relate  a  story." 
The  boy  at  once  began  to  look  around  to  learn  who  it  was  that  had 
spoken.  He  finally  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  the  rock 
beside  which  he  was  sitting  that  had  spoken  for  his  benefit.  In  reply 
the  boy  said:  "  AVhat  is  the  name  of  it^"  The  man  answered: 
"It  is  called  a  fable  (tradition) ;  now  you  must  make  me  a  present 
of  a  bird  (for  telling  you  this  story)."  The  boy.  replying  "So  be 
it,"  left  one  on  the  rock.  Then  the  man  again  spoke,  saying :  "  You 
must  return  here:  I  shall  relate  a  legend,  but  as  to  us  we  remained  at 
home  in  the  world  that  was."    And  the  boy  went  home. 

In  the  evening  the  boy  returned  to  the  rock  and  seated  himself 
upon  it.  Thereupon  the  man  said :  "  Well,  now,  I  shall  say  that  you 
must  speak ;  you  must  say,  *•  What  ?  '  I  shall  tell  you  what  is  called 
a  legend.  As  soon  as  I  make  an  end  of  telling  one  legend  I  may  go 
on  with  another.  But  if  you  become  sleepy,  as  you  may,  you  must 
tell  me,  and  we  will  take  a  rest;  and  yon  can  come  agjun  to-morrow 
evening." 

The  boy  hunted  birds,  and  he  had  many  different  persons  to  ac- 
company him.  He  said  to  each:  "Yon  must  accompany  me  (to 
hear)  a  man  telling  legends,  as  I  think  they  are  called.  In  the 
evening  they  two  would  take  their  seats  on  the  rock  and  listen 
nntil  they  became  sleepy,  and  then  all  would  take  a  rest  for  the  night. 
The  next  day  they  two  would  again  return  to  the  rock,  and  finally 
other  persons  ffillowed  them  to  the  place.  In  the  evening  they  would 
again  sit  around,  and  the  man  would  relate  another  legend.  On  the 
following  evening  they  would  again  repair  to  the  rock.  There 
were  now  a  large  number  who  went  to  the  place  where  the  great  rock 
stood;  and  the  man  would  again  tell  a  legend.  In  this  manner  did 
it  come  to  pass  that  there  are  legends  in  the  world,  as  these  stories 
are  called. 

Finally  the  man  at  the  rock  said  to  the  boy :  "  You  will  grow  old 
in  years.     You  shall  use  these  legends  to  aid  your-self  in  your  old 


^l^:^,'^i\  LEGENDS  681 

age  (by  tc'IIin<^  thcin  to  poisons  wlio  w  ill  pay  ymi  {\>v  (loinfj;  S(j).  So 
it  came  to  pass  that  as  tlic  Itoy  lici'amc  old  he  ilnl  not  eease  teiliiifj^ 
legends. 

It  was  in  this  manner.  ^\  hen  in  tlie  exeiiing  he  would  tell  a 
legend  some  brought  on  their  backs  loads  ol'  wood  lor  fuel;  others 
brought  meat;  others  brought  biead  ;  and  si  ill  others  brought  tobacco. 
These  things  were  l<'t't  in  the  lodge  of  the  old  man  who  had  been 
at  the  rock  when  a  boy.  People  gave  him  these  things  to  lepay 
him  for  telling  them  some  legend.  .Many  times  the  lodge  would  be 
full  of  peoj)le  who  had  come  to  hear  him  relate  the  legends  of  tlu'ir 
peo])le. 

So  it  was  tliat  legends  came  into  lieing,  for  the  people  of  (he 
former  other  world  were  people  who  possessed  great  and  powerful 
orenda.  Ihe  stories  of  their  acts  have  become  the  legends  of  this 
world.     The  scene  of  this  story  was  laid  in  the  former  world. 

The  end. 

\'M.     'I'lIK     LkoKNO    ok    (  irN(iNS(iWA     *''' 

In  ancient  times  this  ev(>nt  came  to  pass  as  other  like  things  had 
taken  place.  .\  man  went  out  to  hinit  on  the  game  jireserve  of  his 
iieo]>le. 

It  Sf)  hai)|iened  that  he  campeil  in  the  niglil  in  a  lal'ge  forest,  lie 
had  four  hunting  dogs  w  ith  him.  There  \w  inaile  his  cam[)  and  kin- 
dled a  fire  for  the  night,  and  in  due  time  the  hunter  and  his  dogs 
tell  asleep.  Some  time  after  this  the  dogs  began  to  bark,  and  one 
went  to  inform  the  hunter  of  his  danger.  Shaking  him  to  arouse  him, 
it  said:  '"I  think  that  we  shall  now  <lie;  near  here  are  men  who  ai'C 
x'ei-y  lai'ge  in  size  going  about  stealthily.  They  must  be,  1  think, 
what  are  called  (lenonsgwa."  Thus  did  the  dog  speak,  and  con- 
tinuing, he  said;  "  l'eiha[is  there  is  ( time)  \'et  in  which  you  yourself 
may  esca]ie.  .\s  to  the  l)east.  as  nuich  as  lies  in  our  ])ower  an<l  oppor- 
tunity we  shall  attempt  to  prevent  it  from  overtaking  you.  So  you 
must  do  this:  '\'ou  must  make  three  torches,  which  you  must  carry 
and  which  will  sullice.  1  thiidv.  f<u-  your  pui-jjOM'  in  reaching  the 
place  where  dwell  other  hinnan  beings.  You  luiist  do  thus  when  you 
see  a  forked  branch  your  height  above  the  groimd  ;  you  must  insert 
one  of  the  loiclies  therein  as  you  pass  along,  when  the  t()rch  is  nearly 
burnetl  out  ;  this  will  become  a  hindrance  to  the  (ienonsgwa.  for  he 
will  think  that  you  may  be  near  at  hand  taking  a  rest  and  will  stop 
without  fail.  This  will  be  an  aid  t<j  you.  for  you  can  then  gain  a  good 
start  on  him.  Then  at  a  suitalile  distance  you  must  in.sert  another 
one  of  the  nearly-burne(l-out  torches." 

\\  that  moment  he  heaiil  the  dogs  a])pi-oa<-h.  barking,  fiom  the 
(lii'ection  in  which  he  had  come,  and  he  fled  with  all  jxissible  s|)eed. 
When  he  had  only  one  torch  left  he  heard  the  barking  of  the  Jogs 


682  SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [  kth.  ANN.  32 

([uite  near  him,  for  they  had  reached  the  phice  in  wliich  he  had  fixed 
the  second  torch.  When  the  man  arrived  there  it  became  evident  to 
him  from  the  sounds  he  heard  that  one  of  the  dogrs  had  just  been 
killed  in  the  distance.  Thereupon  the  hunter  stirred  up  the  fire- 
brands to  cause  them  to  blaze  up  and  throw  out  more  light.  Soon 
they  gave  sufficient  light  to  enable  him  to  see  as  far  as  the  tree  indi- 
cated by  the  dog,  behind  which  the  strange  man,  or  being,  moved 
around  stealthily;  with  great  hands  he  held  to  the  ti'ee  and  he  had, 
too.  very  long  legs.  Having  made  the  needed  preparations,  the 
hunter  at  once  fled  from  the  place. 

Having  reached  a  point  out  of  sight  of  his  camp,  when  his  torch 
that  he  was  carrying  was  nearly  extinguished,  he  heard  sounds 
which  told  him  that  another  dog  had  been  killed,  and  he  knew,  too, 
from  this  that  the  Genonsgwa  was  close  at  hand.  Remembering  the 
advice  of  the  first  dog  that  informed  him  of  his  danger,  he  began 
to  cry  out  the  sign  of  distress.  Gd'vc\  r/o'ire^.  go've''.  for  he  was  then 
aware  that  the  settlement  of  his  people  was  not  far  away.  They  were 
still  all  awake  and.  hearing  the  cries  of  ilistress  in  the  distance,  they 
at  once  ran  in  the  direction  from  which  these  came.  Having  reached 
the  place,  they  found  the  man.  The  Genonsgwa  was  then  very  close 
to  the  himtcr,  who  was  nearly  exhausted.  The  latter  fell  into  the 
circle  of  his  friends  none  too  soon,  for  the  Genonsgwa,  seizing  him 
by  the  leg,  tore  off  some  flesh.  Then  at  once  he  turned,  fled  from  the 
people,  and  disappeared,  and  no  one  knew  whither  he  had  escaped. 

The  end. 

132.  The  Legend  or  the  Stone  Coats  (Genonsgwa) 

It  so  happened  in  times  past  that  three  warriors  left  their  homes 
for  distant  regions.  They  started  away  for  the  purpose  of  killing 
any  people  whom  they  might  find  in  order  to  obtain  their  scalps. 
So  they  would  travel  for  many  days,  and  when  they  observed  that 
they  had  arrived  near  a  settlement  they -would  conceal  themselves, 
and  one  or  more  spies  would  be  sent  out  by  night  to  make  a  recon- 
naissance for  the  purpose  of  learning  when,  where,  and  how  to  make 
the  attack. 

It  was  a  custom  with  them  for  the  chief  or  leader  of  the  little 
party  to  say:  "AVho  will  volunteer  to  go  to  investigate  that  light 
which  appears  in  the  distance?''  Thereupon  one  of  the  warriors 
would  reply:  "I  will  go  to  reconnoiter  that  light,"  and  he  would  go, 
if  alone,  without  definite  instructions  as  to  how  he  might  find  his 
companions  in  case  he  had  to  retreat:  but  if  two  decided  to  go,  they 
would  first  agree  on  some  point  as  a  rendezvous  in  case  they  should 
have  to  retreat  in  haste.  Then  the  spy  or  spies  would  go  to  the  place 
whence  the  light  had  appeared.     Having  arrived  there,  he  would 


f^^^  LEGENDS  •  683 

niaiiMiri'  to  (Tiiwl  stealthily  into  tlii'  slu'lti'is  or  lodges  he  mi<:ht  tiiicj, 
aiul  lie  wouM  also  fiiul  tin'  iimiatcs  lying  asleep  and  their  sraniicnts 
hangiiiix  on  the  supports  of  the  structures. 

Ill  inakin<r  such  a  reconnaissance  one  of  the  spies  found  the  iuniates 
aslec]),  and  he  saw  that  their  garments,  wiiieh  were  of  stone,  were  set 
11])  against  the  trees  which  stood  near  by.  He  was  surprised  by  one 
of  these  sleeper.s  arising  and  saying  to  him:  "  AVhat  are  you  doing 
here  ^  A\'hat  tlo  you  want  T"  The  spy  replied:  "I  do  not  want  any- 
thing: I  intend  nothing:  I  want  peace."'  But  the  other  person  said 
to  him:  ■■  You  intend,  as  you  Unow,  to  kill  all  jiersons  who  may  fall 
into  your  power:  so  you  and  I  >hall  figiit.  That  is  verily  what  you 
and  your  comiianions  are  doing  on  your  way  here:  you  come  with 
the  intention  of  fighting  all  ]iersons  whom  you  do  not  fear.  To-mor- 
row at  luiilday  you  and  1  shall  meet  face  to  face  yoiuler  in  a  i)lace 
not  far  from  here,  in  a  valley  which  is  very  deep  and  has  very  high 
dill's.  You  shall  enter  it  from  one  entrance  and  I  from  the  other, 
and  there  in  tho  \alley  we  shall  meet."  He  said  this  and  ceased 
speaking.    The  spy  re[)lied  :  "  So  let  it  l>e." 

na\ing  returned  to  the  camp  of  his  companions,  the  sjiy  told  what 
he  had  .'^een.  saying:  "  1  have  seen  a  distressing  sight.  I  saw  beings 
who  had  assumed  human  forms  and  actions  but  who  were  not  human. 
I  saw  their  clothes,  which  were  stone  in  material.^"  set  ii))  against 
the  trees  about  their  cam|i.  (  )ne  of  their  number  arose  and  said,  to 
me.  '  ^^'hat  are  your  intentions^  "  I  rei)lieil.  '  Nothing:  only  j)eace:" 
but  he  as  <iuickly  said:  '  You  desire  to  kill  all  persons  who  may  fall 
into  your  power:  so  to-mmrow  at  midday  in  a  valley  that  is  near 
here,  and  that  is  very  dee]),  we,  you  and  I.  shall  meet:  you  must  enter 
it  from  the  o|)])osite  si<le.  and  1  shall  enter  it  from  this  side:  then  yon 
and  I  shall  fight.'  I  do  not  think  that  w(>  have  the  ability  to  oxer- 
come  and  kill  these  ])eoi)le.  TIr.'y  are  numerous,  forming  a  large 
body." 

The  child'  of  the  lillle  ])arty  remained  silent,  thinking  over  the 
situation.  Finally  he  said  :  "  !?y  means  of  a  sacrifice  we  must  ask  Ilim 
who  has  made  our  lives  to  aid  us  in  the  coming  battle.  Moreover, 
we  shall  use  in  the  sacrilice  (d'  ])rayer  nalix'e  tobacco,  which  1  >hall 
now  cast  on  the  fire."  Then  he  took  from  his  ])oiich  native  tobacco, 
which  he  cast  on  the  fire  with  the  following  words:  "Thou  who  hast 
made  our  lives,  give  nio.st  attentive  ear  to  the  thing  I  am  about  to 
say.  Now  we  are  about  to  die.  Do  Thon  aid  ns  to  the  utmost  of  Thy 
l)ower.  Thou,  ruler,  it  was  Thou  who  gavest  us  this  native  tobacco: 
it  is  thi-  that  1  am  now  emjiloying.  Here,  take  it:  it  is  offered  to 
Thee.  Thou  hast  ])roiuised  ns  that  Thou  wilt  always  be  listening 
when  we  ask  in  ])rayer  by  sacrifice.  Xow.  it  matters  not  whether  Thou 
Thyself  shall  stand  here,  oi'  whether  it  shall  come  by  the  way  of  a 
di'eam.  do  Thou  tell  us  fully  what  we  must  do  in  this  cri-is  which 


684  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  a\n-.  S2 

Thou  knowest  confronts  us  so  closely.  Now  I  finish  my  tale.  So  it 
is  enough.    Now,  moreover,  we  will  lie  down  to  sleep." 

Then  they  lay  down  to  sleep.  At  midnight  the  chief,  who  was 
awake,  heard  some  one  speak  there,  saying :  "  I  have  heard  your 
prayers  asking  me  to  aid  you;  so  now  I  have  arrived  here.  In  this 
manner  you  must  do,  to-morrow.  Verily,  you  two  have  agi'eed  to 
meet  in  the  deep  valley  at  midday.  You  must  act  in  this  manner. 
You  must  go  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  at  the  cliff's  edge,  and  you 
must  lie  prone,  resting  on  your  elbows ;  this  you  must  do  before  it  is 
midday.  You  must  remain  perfectly  still,  and  you  must  not  carry 
out  your  agreement  with  them.  Then  j'ou  must  watch  the  opposite 
cliff,  and  as  soon  as  you  see  a  bear  on  the  run  there  you  must  shout 
Pa — 'a  p-hu-e.  Then  you  must  retreat  a  short  distance  and  stop, 
whereupon  you  shall  see  how  truly  I  will  aid  you.  You  will  hear 
them  when  they  come  into  the  valley,  for  the  sound  tcm — u  which 
they  will  make  will  be  very  loud." 

The  men  followed  the  directions  given  them  by  their  Creator,  to 
whom  they  had  appealed  in  their  extremity,  and  went  to  the  cliff 
and  lay  down  just  as  they  had  been  instructed  to  do.  They  had  not 
waited  long  before  they  heard  their  enemies  coming  along  in  the 
valley,  with  their  chief  singing  as  they  marched.  The  chief  of  the 
warriors  was  intently  watching  the  opposite  cliff,  when  suddenly  he 
saw  a  bear  running  along  on  the  edge  of  it.  At  this  he  shouted,  as 
he  had  lieen  instructed  to  do.  Pa — 'a  p-hu-e,  and  then,  quickly  arising 
and  turning  back,  they  tied;  but  after  going  a  short  distance  they 
stopped,  and  turning  around,  they  looked  back  to  see  what  was 
taking  place  in  the  valley.  As  they  watched,  the  sound  of  the  on- 
coming of  the  Genonsgwa  increased  in  volume  and  intensity;  and 
when  they  had  all  got  into  the  valley  the  sound  of  their  marching 
became  a  veritable  roar,  sounding  like  doo-o. 

Now  they  saw  what  astonislu'd  them;  they  saw  the  earth  from  the 
sides  of  the  valley  fall  into  it,  carrying  with  it  the  forests  which  grew 
on  it  in  the  region  of  the  valley.  At  once  the  sounds  of  the  marching 
of  the  Genonsgwa  died  out,  and  the  only  sounds  they  then  heard  were 
the  breaking  and  crashing  of  the  trees  as  they  settled  down  under 
the  mountains  of  earth  that  fell  into  the  valley.  Then  they  heard  the 
voice  of  their  Creator  saying:  "What  you  asked  of  me  has  been 
granted  in  full.  I  am  He  whom  you  usually  call  Our  Master.  Verily, 
1  continue  to  aid  you.  who  are- called  the  Seneca  people.  I  aid  you 
in  all  things,  in  ball-playing,  in  foot-racing,  and  in  warfare.  Now 
you  shall  go  to  your  homes,  to  the  places  where  j'our  dwelling-places 
are.  Never  in  the  future  must  you  do  what  you  were  doing.  It 
is  much  better  that  you  shall  settle  all  differences  which  you  may  have 
with  all  other  peoples.  You  must  stop  your  present  course,  for  if 
you  do  not  do  so,  you  yourselves  shall  bleed  in  turn.     So  you  must 


--■^]  I.EOKNDS  685 

nialce  peace  witli  all  your  neighbors,  must  biiiv  deep  in  the  earth  the 
scalping-knife,  the  bow  ami  the  arrow,  and  the  battle-ax.  All  these 
you  must  bury  in  the  ground,  and  you  nnist  leave  them  there,  and 
thus  put  them  out  of  the  world.    Now  I  am  through." 

Then  the  warriors  started  for  home  and  soon  arrived  at  their 
dwvlling  places.  Immediately  the  chief  assembled  the  people:  iie 
went  through  the  village,  aiul  as  he  walked  along  he  said  to  them: 
'■  ^\'e  will  huld  a  coiuicil,  and  we  must  assemble  in  the  Long  lodge; 
we  must  assemble  there  early  in  the  morning  as  soon  as  the  moi-ning 
mciil  has  been  eaten.  Evei-yone  mu>t  be  there — children  and 
womi'ii ;  the  entire  body  of  this  people  must  be  there  to  listen  to  the 
tiding  which  we  have  brought  back." 

Early  the  next  morning  the  chief  made  a  second  announcement, 
saying:  '""We  will  hold  a  council  to-day."  So  a  large  body  of  per- 
sons gathered  in  the  Long  lodge  in  which  was  the  council  chamber, 
and  when  they  had  taken  their  places  the  chief  arose  and  addressed 
them  thus:  "  "V'ou  imi^t  give  strict  attention  to  what  we  have  to  say 
to  you.  We  ha\e  been  absent  in  distant  ii'gions.  where  we  had  iu- 
tendiMJ  to  kill  any  people  whom  we  might  liiul.  There  we  saw  j^eople 
such  as  we  had  never  seen  before,  inr  their  garments  were  of  stone. 
It  i>  probable  that  we  iiever  couhl  kill  them:  they  wei-e  very  numer- 
ous. It  so  hapjH'iUMl  that  we  encamped  \ery  near  them  and  that 
when  they  kindled  their  fire  we  saw  it  in  the  di>tance.  Then  I.  who 
W"as  the  chief  of  the  band,  saitl  'C'ouu'.  we  will  go  to  recomioitfr  in 
the  vicinity  of  tliat  light.'  One  ()f  the  warriors  answered:  '  I  w-ill  go 
there,'  but  I  went  in  his  stead  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  light  to 
investigate.  Having  arrived  there  I  found  persons  lying  around 
asleeji.  and  I  saw  that  their  garments  were  of  stone,  and  that  they 
were  set  up  against  the  neighboi-ing  trees.  Suddenly  one  of  the 
sleejiers,  springing  up,  said  to  me.  "What  are  your  intentions^'  1 
said  in  reply.  "  1  do  not  intend  to  do  anything,"  for  I  was  afraid.  lie 
replied:  'Do  you  not  intend  to  kill  anyone  you  can  ^  Now  you  and 
I  shall  fight.  'J'o-morrow  when  the  sum  is  at  midday,  there  where 
the  deep  \alley  is,  in  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  you  nui>t  come  from 
the  one  side  and  I,  for  my  part,  will  enter  the  valley  from  theo|)|)osite 
side,  and  therein  we  shall  meet:  then  you  and  I  will  fight."  I  re- 
lilied  to  him :  '  Let  it  be  so,"  and  departed  thence  and  returned  (o  our 
camp,  where  I  at  once  told  my  friends  what  T  had  seen.  I  said: 
•  I  haxc  seen  an  astonishing  condition  of  things.  When  I  ari-ived 
llicrc  1  foinid  I  he  people  lying  down,  and  near  by,  leaning  against  the 
trees,  were  their  garments,  which  were  of  stone,  so  it  is  probably  im- 
possible for  us  to  kill  them.  So  let  it  be.'  I  wdll  make  a  sacrifi<'ial 
prayer  to  Ilim  who  has  completed  the  structure  of  our  lives;  I  will 
cast  on  the  fire  sacrificially  native  tobacco.  \t  once  T  took  tobacco, 
and  holding  it  in  my  hand.  I  saiil:  'Thou  luist  ])r(inused  to  aid  those 


686  SENECA   FlCnOX,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

who  shall  pray  to  Thee  with  an  offermg  of  this  native  tobacco,'  and 
then  I  cast  it  on  the  fire,  and  forthwith  arose  smoke  from  the  burn- 
ing tobacco.  Thereupon  I  said :  '  Now  aid  us ;  tell  us  what  we  must 
do;  perhaps  You  may  come  to  us  in  a  vision;  perhaps  You  might 
send  the  advice  to  us  through  a  dream;  at  all  events  tell  us  what 
to  tlo.    Now%  we  W'ill  lie  down  to  sleep.' 

"Just  at  midnight  I  was  surprised  to  hear  one  speak,  saying:  'I 
have  come  to  aid  you;  I  tell  j-ou  that  to-morrow  just  before  midday 
you  and  your  men  must  go  to  the  valley,  and  there  overlooking  it 
you  must  lie  down  prone  and  rest  on  your  elbows.'  And  he  said,  too  r 
'  You  must  watch  carefully  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  and 
when  you  shall  see  a  bear  running  along  the  opposite  cliff  you  must 
shout  Pa — 'a  j)-hu-e,  and  thereupon  you  must  all  arise  and  flee 
from  the  place  a  short  distance  and  must  stop  and  look  back  toward 
the  valley,  and  then  you  shall  see  what  shall  hai)pen,  what  shall 
happen  to  the  persons  of  your  adversaries  when  they  will  enter 
the  farther  entrance  to  the  valley — these  Genonsgwa.'  The  noise 
made  by  these  Genonsgwa  as  they  came  forward  was  very  great; 
the  sound  that  they  made  was  du — I'cm.  As  they  came  on,  the  voice 
of  their  chief  was  heard  singing;  he  chanted  the  war  song  of  the 
Genonsgwa,  saying:  'Xo  one  has  the  power  to  overcome  me;'  this 
is  what  he  said  in  his  singing. 

'"Just  then  the  cliffs  on  each  side  of  the  valley  with  the  forests 
growing  on  them  were  upheaved  with  a  deafening  roar  and  crash 
and  fell  into  the  valley  upon  the  advancing  Genonsgwa ;  this  was 
followed  by  the  sounds  of  breaking  trees  and  their  limbs  as  they 
were  crushed  under  the  weight  of  the  overturned  cliffs,  and  then 
all  was  silent.    Thus  did  this  event  come  to  pass. 

"  Now  I  shall  speak  to  this  assembly  as  it  is  here  listening  to 
what  I  have  related.  He  who  aided  us  was  the  Master  of  Life.  He 
told  us  to  return  home,  and  He  bade  us  never  to  undertake  an 
enterprise  such  as  that  which  took  us  from  our  homes.  He  bade  us 
to  make  peace  with  all  tribes  of  men.  of  whatsoever  land  or  language 
they  miglit  be:  for  if  we  should  not  follow  His  advice  we  ourselves 
might  one  day  shed  one  another's  blood;  and  He  bade  us  to  bury 
deep  in  the  ground  the  scalping-knife,  the  war  bow  and  arrow,  and 
the  liattle-ax  and  the  war-club.  He  bade  us  to  put  all  these  things 
out  of  this  world,  telling  us  that  if  we  do  this  we  shall  be  contented 
and  happy  in  the  future,  if  we  consent  to  this  and  to  inform  all  our 
jieople  of  this  advice  and  the  chiefs,  too.  But  as  we  do  not  know 
what  the  chiefs  will  do  in  this  matter  we  have  called  this  council 
to  ascertain  this  important  opinion  of  our  chiefs.  Now  we  have  told 
you  these  tidings  which  we  have  brought  with  us.  and  now  you 
must  take  great  pains  in  considering  this  matter  in  all  its  bearings; 
T  mean  you.  our  chiefs.     There.  I  am  through  with  my  address." 


CURTIN 
HEWl 


:,^,:]  LEGENDS  687 


Diiriiiir  tlie  entire  day  they  i_liseussed  this  inatlei-  in  all  its  hearings. 
Some  said  tliat  it  would  not  bo  good  for  them  to  adojtt  this  kind  ad- 
vice, as  many  of  their  relations  had  heen  killed  by  the  enemy,  and 
they  had  always  intended  to  liave  revenge  for  their  deaths. 

Others  spoke  for  and  against  tiie  projjosition  wiiieh  had  been  j^re- 
sented  to  them  by  the  returned  warriors.  The  discussions  took  a  wide 
range  and  consumvd  the  entile  day.  Finally  one  of  the  leading 
chiefs  of  the  place  arose  and  said :  "  It  is  better  that  we  take  a  recess 
until  early  to-morrow  morning,  at  which  time  we  will  again  assemble 
here.  I  will  then  spisak,  telling  you  my  views  on  this  question  after 
having  thought  on  them  during  the  night.  l""or  this  reason  all  should 
be  jM'esent  again;  so  you  mubt  come  and  hear  what  I  have  to  say  to 
you.    So  there." 

Then  they  dispersed  and  went  to  their  homes.  In  all  the  lodges 
there  was  much  speculation  as  to  what  the  chief  would  tell  them  in 
the  morning.  All  had  diiferent  views  us  to  what  he  would  say.  and 
they  made  up  their  minds  that  they  would  go  to  the  Long  lodge  at 
early  forenoon. 

So  in  the  morning  nf  thi'  next  day  Ihev  again  assembled  in  tiie 
Long  lodge,  and  there  was  present  a  \ery  large  liody  of  ])eo])le. 

Then  the  chief  arose  to  his  full  height  and  began  to  spvak,  saying: 
"The  time  has  now  come.  I  said  that  to-day  I  .should  speak  to  you. 
My  mind  is  now  made  up:  I  ha\e  (k'cided  what  to  say  to  you,  and 
now  I  will  tell  you  what  I  ha\e  thought  best  for  us  to  do.  I  agi'ee 
to  the  proposal  to  make  peace  with  our  enemies;  that  to  that  end  we 
must  certainly  bui'v  dee])  in  the  ground  the  scalping-knife  and  the 
war  bow  and  arrow  and  the  battle-a.x:  and  that  we  must  leave  tiicse 
things  there  out  of  sight  and  reach.  You  nuist  ])ut  these  things  out  of 
the  world.  So  let  this  come  to  pass.  Let  everyone  who  has  come  here 
carr}'  out  this  resolution  as  I  have  indicated  it  to  you  in  what  I  have 
said.  So  there.  Come,  then,  let  us  now  make  preparation.s.  I  sup- 
pose that  we  nnist  send  an  embassy  of  two  persons  to  that  neigh- 
boring tribe,  although  we  may  not  be  certain  whether  they  will  be 
at  all  willing  to  make  peace  with  us  and  theivby  settle  our  dilliculties. 
So  we  must  commission  our  ambassadors  to  [iray  them  to  cease  wag- 
ing war  against  us:  and  we,  too,  nm.st  stop  fighting  on  our  part,  and 
must  cast  away  deep  in  tiie  ground  the  scalping-knife,  the  war  l)ow 
and -arrow,  and  the  battle-ax.  These  we  must  throw  away,  and  thus 
you  will  put  them  outside  of  this  world.  "When  the  two  (ambassa- 
dors) arrive  in  the  c<}unlry  of  our  enemies  they  shall  say:  '  We  have 
been  .sent  by  the  chiefs  of  our  |)eople  to  know  whetlier  you  are  willing 
to  agree  to  settle  oui-  dillicidties  and  to  nud<e  jieace  with  us.'  This  is 
what  you  two  shall  say.    This  is  all." 

After  some  delilierat ion  the  chief  arose  again  and  sai<l,  "Come, 
now.    Who  will  volunteer  to  go  far  awav  to  the  foreign  land  where 


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

our  enemies  dwell  i  "  Then  a  certain  man  said,  "  I  am  willing  to 
go."  "So  be  it,"  replied  the  chief;  "who  else  is  willing  to  go? 
There  is  one  lacking."  Then  another  man  said,  "  I  am  willing  to 
go."  The  chief  accepted  him  by  saying,  "  So  let  it  be."  Then  the 
last  volunteer  asked  the  chief:  "I  ask  you,  who  art  the  chief,  what 
must  be  done,  should  they  perhaps  kill  us,  and  you  would  not 
hear  anything  about  it?  Should  we  become  angry  should  tjiey 
attack  us  there,  even  though  by  doing  so  we  should  probably  lose 
our  lives?    So*there  (is  what  I  have  to  say)." 

Then  the  chief  arose,  and  addressing  the  two  ambassadors,  said: 
"  You  have  asked  me  a  question.  I  shall  tell  both  what  you  must 
do  when  you  discover  that  tlie  people  whom  you  are  going  to  visit 
dwell  not  far  ahead  of  you.  When  you  make  this  discovery  you  must 
leave  there  in  safety  your  scalping-knife  and  your  bows  and  arrows 
and  your  battlt'-axes;  and  you  two  must  also  carefully  wash  yoiu- 
faces  so  that  there  shall  be  no  more  paint  on  your  faces.  Then 
you  must  go  to  the  village  of  the  people:  and  according  to  custom 
they  will  not  kill  you  because  you  have  not  your  scalping-knives.  your 
bows  and  arrows,  or  your  battle-axes,  and  because  you  will  not 
have  your  faces  painted."*^' 

Then' the  wai-rior  a^s^^ered:  "So  be  it.  I  think  that  my  friend 
and  I  may  pcrhajis  start  this  evening  just  as  soon  as  it  becomes  quite 
dark."  During  the  entire  day  they  made  their  preparations  so 
they  would  be  able  to  start  in  the  evening.  In  the  early  part  of  the 
evening  they  came  together,  whereupon  one  said:  "My  friend,  now 
let  us  start,  and  you  w  ill  leave  directly  from  here  in  your  own  way. 
and  I,  too,  will  leave  here  directly  in  my  own  way."  The  friend 
replied :  "  Do  you  feel  that  you  have  sufficiently  potent  orenda  ? '' 
He  answered:  "I  thinlc  so."  The  other  continued:  "What  kind  of 
thing  does  it  (your  body)  iTsually  pretend  to  be  as  it  flies  along?  " 
His  friend  rejilied:  "Oh.  just  the  night  owl,  saying  mi,  v:u,  wu, 
WM,  hu.  hii-H.''''  At  tliis  the  otlrer.  laughing,  said:  "My  friend, 
you  are  indeed  a  brave  man  (a  male)."  His  companion  an- 
swered: "With  regard  to  yourself,  what  kind  of  thing  does  it 
(your  body)  usually  j^retend  to  be  as  it  goes  along?  Xow  I  have 
asked  you."  In  replying  the  other  man  said:  "As  to  myself,  I  shall 
be  a  fox,  and  I  will  go  ahmg  barking;  and  we  shall  keep  apart  just 
the  distance  that  I  can  hear  the  hooting  of  the  night  owl.  How  far 
do  j'ou  say?  "  He  replied:  "Let  us  be  just  so  far  apart  that  it  will 
be  possible  for  me  to  hear  the  barlring  of  the  fox.  And  this,  too, 
must  be  done.  As  daylight  approaches  "we  must  draw  nearer  to  each 
other,  and  when  it  is  morning  we  will  rejoin  at  some  convenient 
place."    Then  they  started. 

They  observed  their  order  of  going,  and  wiicii  they  had  concluded 
that  they  had  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  people  whom  they 


CrRTIN 
HEW  IT 


y  LEGENDS  _  689 


were  iroinij;  to  \  isil.  tlicv  weri'  smi)ri>('il  to  set'  the  lights  of  a  iiiiiiiInT 
of  tires.  So  thev  .stojiped  aiul  ^^at  down  on  a  log.  Then  one  of  the 
men  said:  "  ^^'e  niii.st  li'ave  our  tliiniis,  oiii-  weapons,  here — our  scal]i- 
ing-knives.  our  bows  and  arrows,  and  our  battle-axes — and  we  nuist 
remove  the  ]iaint  from  our  faces,  too.  There,  on  that  side  of  the  log, 
you  may  lay  your  things,  and  you  must  cover  tliem  with  luoss  and 
earth  \ery  carefully:  and  I  will  lay  my  things  here  on  this  side  of 
the  log,  and  1  will  co\er  them  e\en  as  you  do."  Thus  they  compleletl 
this  task  of  concealing  their  weajions.  Then  one  of  them  said :  "  My 
friend,  it  shall  be  that  he  who  shall  be  spared  alive  shall  ilig  up 
these  things,  for  we  shall  soon  see  them,  and  when  they  see  us  there 
is  no  assurance  that  either  of  us  shall  be  left  alive:  but  should  oiu' 
of  us  escape  then  l?t  him  dig  up  and  carry  home  both  these  iMiricd 
outfits." 

Then  they  went  towartl  the  |)lari'  where  they  belie\ed  the  enemies 
lived.  'J'hcy  had  not  gone  far  when  they  were  surprised  to  see  in 
the  distance  a  temporary  sh.'lter  uuule  of  corn  husks,  for  this  was 
at  the  time  of  the  corn  harvest  and  the  ]ieo]ile  were  drying  the 
strings  of  ears  of  corn.  Thereupon  one  of  the  men  said:  "  I  will  do 
the  talking  when  we  arrive  at  that  tem])orary  shelter:  so  do  you 
not  speak  a  woi-k  about  anything.  So  now.  come,  k't  us  go  thither 
to  the  lodge." 

AMien  the  two  men  had  arrived  near  the  temporary  shelter  the 
children  noticed  their  approach  and  fled  into  the  shelter.  On  ari'iv- 
ing  at  the  shelter  the  two  men  found  that  the  doorflap  was  of  deer- 
skin. When  they  had  step])ed  inside  they  saw  a  woman  sitting  there; 
thev  noticed  also  that  the  children  had  hidden  Ihemselve-.  and  that 
the  woman  was  greatly  frightened,  for  the  color  of  her  fact'  had 
changed.  ( )in'  of  the  men  at  once  ^aid  to  her:  '"  Do  not  fear  us;  we  do 
not  come  on  an  evil  errand,  and  you  may  know  this  to  be  true  because 
we  have  not  our  scalping-kuives.  bows  and  arrows,  or  Ijattle-a.xes,  and 
we  have  no  jiaint  on  our  faces.  So  do  not  b(>  afraiil.  ^^  e  ha\e  come 
on  a  good  errand:  do  not  fear  us."  All  at  once  th(>  woman  spoke, 
saying:  "Oh,  children:  verily,  they  will  not  kill  u-."  At  this  the 
children  canu'  forth  from  their  hiding  places,  and  the  mother,  too. 
regained  her  composure.  The  spokesman  of  the  two  visitors  said. 
"  Are  you  and  your  children  here  alone'"  The  woman  replied.  "  No: 
our  old  man  has  gone  yonder  into  the  valley  where  in  fact  we  dwell : 
he  will  soon  return."  Then  the  man  said:  '"So  let  it  be.  We  will 
remain  here  until  he  retuiiis."  The  wonum  answered:  "Let  it  be  so." 
So  when  the  old  man  had  returned  the  spokesman  of  the  two  am- 
bassadors said:  "We  come  as  messengers.  Let  us  talk  together  in 
peace.  Wc  are  not  thinking  of  evil  purposes,  and  these,  our  jieaceful 
sentiments,  are  shown  by  the  fact  that  neither  of  us  has  a  scalping- 
<UG\-}°—1G 14 


690  SENECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etu.  ANN.  32 

knife,  a  bow  and  arrows,  or  battle-ax,  and  is  not  painted  on  the  face. 
For  this  reason  let  there  be  jDeace  ■while  we  talk  together."  It  seemea 
at  first  that  the  old  man  was  angrA',  but  when  he  had  heard  this  state- 
ment his  mind  changed,  and  he  said,  "  Come,  then,  do  you  relate  the 
message  which  you  have  been  sent  to  bring  to  us.  Come,  now,  tell 
us."  The  man  replied:  "  So  be  it.  We  have  come  to  you  to  propose 
that  we  at  once  settle  all  our  differences,  because  we  have  slaughtered 
not  only  ourselves,  but  also  our  friends  and  kinsmen.  Let  us  stop 
this  slaughter;  and  let  us  bury  deep  in  the  earth  the  scalping-knife, 
the  war  bow  and  arrow,  and  the  battle-ax;  in  the  earth  we  will  put 
these  weapons ;  so  if  you  ai-e  willing  to  accept  our  proposals  you  will 
put  these  murderous  things  outside  this  world,  if  you  are  only  willing 
to  do  so."  The  old  man  replied :  "  So  be  it.  Let  us  go  to  the  place 
where  usually  we  assemble  in  council  in  the  Long-lodge,  for  indeed 
the  chiefs  dwell  some  distance  from  here.  I  will  tell  them  what  you 
have  brought  as  a  message  to  us.  I  do  not  know  what  answer  they 
may  give.  I  think  you  two  should  remain  here,  and  I  will  go  A'onder 
to  the  Long-lodge,  where  are  the  chiefs  of  our  people.  It  would  not 
succeed  well  if  you  two  should  go  there,  for  usually  they  are  angry 
when  they  see  an  enemy.  I  will  prepare  myself  properly  to  tell  them 
the  message  which  you  have  been  sent  to  bring  to  us.  Then  I  shall 
come  for  you  should  their  reply  be  favorable  to  a  conference  with 
them.  Thus  it  shall  be  done."  One  of  the  ambassadors  answered, 
"  Let  it  come  to  pass  as  j'ou  have  suggested." 

Thereupon  the  old  man  started  for  the  Long-lodge  to  confer  with 
the  chiefs  of  his  people.  When  he  had  reached  a  point  near  the 
A'illage  he  began  to  cry  out :  Go' ice'',  gu'ice'',  go' we''.  This  is  called 
proclaiming.  As  soon  as  his  cries  were  heard  everybody  came  forth 
from  their  lodges  and  at  once  went  to  the  Long-lodge  to  hear  what 
news  the  crier  was  bringing  them.  So  a  large  assemblage  crowded 
the  Long-lodge.  Then  the  old  man,  who  was  still  crying  out  the  cries 
of  warning,  entered  the  Long-lodge,  whereupon  they  set  him  down 
on  one  side.  One  of  the  chiefs  arose  and  said :  "  Now,  you  must  relate 
the  important  news  which  you  bring  to  us,  so  tell  us.  That  is  all." 
Arising,  the  old  man  said  :  "  I  will  tell  you  of  a  very  important  matter 
which  has  come  to  pass.  I  saw  two  men  who  were  in  the  lodge  when 
I  returned  to  my  home.  I  was  astonished,  but  one  of  these  men  at 
once  arose  and  said :  '  We  assure  you  that  we  are  not  intending  anj'- 
thing  evil,  and  this  is  jiroved  by  the  fact  that  we  have  no  scalping- 
knife,  no  war  bow  and  arrows,  and  no  battle-ax,  and  we  have  not  our 
faces  painted.  We  have  been  sent  by  our  chiefs  to  learn  whether  we 
can  not  settle  all  our  difficidties.  We  have  been  killing  ourselves  and 
shedding  each  other's  blood ;  so  let  us  stop  doing  this,  and  let  us  bury 
deep  in  the  earth  the  scalping-knife,  the  war  bow  and  arrows,  and 
the  battle-ax ;  let  us  lay  these  very  deep  in  the  ground.    You  must  put 


Z^:^  LEGENDS  •  •  G91 

these  tlnnps  <)Ut>iile  the  world.  Thus  it  shall  be  done.  pi()vitk'<l  lh:il 
yoii  will  agree  to  this  proposition.  So  this  is  the  number  ol'  words 
which  has  been  sent  you  by  us."  I  am  now  through  with  what  1  ha\e 
to  .say.  So,  there."  In  reply,  the  chiefs  of  the  village  said  to  tiie  oKl 
man:  "Perhaps  you  would  better  fetch  the  two  men  here  and  let 
them  (X)mo  into  this  place.  You  alone  go  back  after  them.  You  must 
hasten  your  steps  as-  you  go.  and  you  must  bring  them  at  once  with 
you."'  The  old  man.  replying,  "  So  let  it  be,""  at  once  went  out  of  the 
lodge  and  started  ou  a  run  toward  his  temporary  lodge,  where  the 
two  men  were  a\Yaiting  his  return.  On  entering,  he  said  to  them  :  "  I 
have  come  after  you.""  Arising  at  once,  they  started  for  the  place 
where  the  council  was  being  held,  and  having  reached  there,  they 
entered  the  Long-lodge.  One  of  the  ambassadors  was  in  a  frenzy  of 
fear,  seeming  to  fear  they  wotdd  be  killed,  for  before  entering  lie 
kept  saying  to  his  friend:  "Have  couragv>,  my  friend:  one  of  us  will 
certainly  escape.""  A\'hen  they  entered  the  Longdodge  they  made 
room  for  the  two  messengers,  or  ambassadors,  to  sit.  One  of  the 
chiefs  of  the  village,  arising,  said  :  "  Is  it  true  that  yon  ba\e  been  sent 
to  come  into  our  country?  Are  the  things  true  which  our  friend  has 
told  us  in  full?  That  is  what  you  two  must  tell  ii-.  for  wc  do  not 
]<uow  whether  what  he  told  us  a  sliort  time  ago  is  the  truth  or  not."' 

Then  the  spokesman  of  the  two  ambassadors,  arising  to  his  full 
height,  said:  "We  two  will  now  tell  you  that  we  were  commissioned 
on  a  very  important  errand  by  our  chiefs.  We  come  to  you  to  pro- 
pgse  that  your  people  and  oui-  [)i()ple  shall  settle  all  the  troubles 
which  have  caused  them  to  shed  each  other's  blood.  What  your  chief 
has  told  you  is  an  important  matter.    I  am  through." 

Th(>n  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  village,  arising,  said:  "Lo!  now  do 
you  (all\.  everyone  who  has  sonietbing  to  say,  you  who  are  the 
chiefs  of  this  village,  whetiier  we  >liall  agi-ee  to  settle  our  dilliculties 
with  the  pe()])le  who  have  sent  these  two  men  to  us.  and  to  bury  deep 
in  the  groun<i  the  scalping  iiuilV,  the  war  bow  and  arrow,  ;nid  \\\r 
battle-ax.  Come,  now.  let  cacji  one  say  which  side  of  the  proposal  he 
takes,  whether  we  shall  make  peace,  or  whether  we  shall  reject  these 
overtures  for  peace.  There  are  only  two  o]iiuions  that  can  be  given; 
when  one  sjieaks  he  must  tell  which  is  his  opinion.     So  I  am  done." 

Then  another  chief  arose  to  speak,  saying:  "  1  am  next  in  order  lo 
speak  my  sentiments.  I  am  unwilling  to  consent  to  settle  our  dilli- 
culties with  the  people  represented  by  the.se  two  messengers,  because 
the  many  stains  which  have  come  from  the  blood  of  my  own  kinsmen, 
shed  by  these  two  men  who  are  sitting  here,  are  scarcely  dried.  In 
my  heart  there  are  couslant  passions  arising  which  |)rompl  me  to 
take  vengeance  for  this  cruel  slaughter  of  my  own  kinsmen:  and  I 
am  tempted  lo  seal))  these  two  enemies  who  sit  here  in  our  i)resence."' 


692  SENECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  axx.  s: 

Then  another  chief,  leaping  to  his  feet,  said  to  the  one  who  was 
speaking:  "Do  yon  stop  at  once.  Do  not  say  that  again;  you  must 
stop  that  kind  of  talk.  I  will  sa_v  but  a  few  words  for  my  part.  You 
two  who  are  sitting  here  must  listen  and  must  hear  all  that  I  have  to 
say  in  my  own  behalf  and  in  that  of  my  people.  I  think  that  we  all 
realize  that  what  we  are  about  to  do  is  a  very  important  atl'air. 
One  person  alone  has  made  us  of  one  flesh  and  of  one  form,  and  of 
a  reddish  coloi".  Now,  too,  you  shall  hear  me  declare  that  I  agree 
to  accept  your  proposal  for  an  adjustment  of  all  difficulties  between 
your  people  and  ours.  We  must  bury  deep  in  the  ground  all  those 
things  with  which  we  fight;  and  you  must  put  them  out  of  the 
world ;  and  this  statement  you  must  make  when  you  two  return  to 
your  own  homes."  The  chief  accepted  this  proposition,  saying:  ''  So 
now  we  will  meet  in  joint  council  at  the  river,  which  is  just  halfway 
from  here  to  our  own  country ;  we  will  meet  there  on  on'e  side  of  the 
river,  and  there  you  may  prepare  your  camps.  You  must  all  go — 
children,  women,  and  men — all  must  be  present  there.  On  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  river  we  will  make  our  camps.  After  the  tenth  night 
from  now  we  must  all  be  in  camp  there,  and  I  shall  bring  all  the  peo- 
ple— children,  women,  and  the  warriors.  So  there;  thus  it  shall  come 
to  pass.  Then  we  shall  lie  down  to  rest  and  in  the  morning  you  and  I 
will  talk  together,  as  thou  art  a  chief  and  as  I,  too,  am  a  chief.  So 
you  shall  stand  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  I  shall  stand  on 
this  side  of  the  river.  Then  it  .shall  be  that  you  will  tell  me  how  you 
and  I  may  adjust  our  differences;  and  you  shall  accomplish  this 
within  the  time  of  10  days.  After  10  nights  you  will  have  arrived  on 
your  side  of  the  river,  and  I,  too,  shall  have  arrived  on  my  side  of  the 
river.  So  there  is  what  I  have  to  say.  Come,  now,  make  your  prepa- 
rations, and  when  you  have  completed  them  we  shall  start  to  go  to 
the  river." 

In  the  meantime  the  two  ambassadors  had  returned  to  their  home 
and  had  made  their  report,  and  their  chiefs  had  given  the  people  in- 
structions to  prepare  themselves  to  go  to  meet  their  former  enemies 
at  the  river  that  bounded  their  lands.  On  both  sides  the  people  and 
the  chiefs  kept  tally  of  the  days  that  passed;  the  next  day  was  one; 
the  next,  two:  the  next  day,  three,  and  so  on.  On  the  eighth  day 
the  chief  on  each  side  said:  "Come  now.  let  us  start."  Thereupon 
they  left  their  homes  for  the  place  of  meeting;  none  remained  behind. 
They  traveled  a  long  distance  before  th?v  stopped  for  the  night. 
In  the  morning  they  started  again  and  arrived  at  the  river  bank 
at  a  seasonable  hour.  The  chief  of  the  opposite  party  said,  too: 
"  Come  now,  let  us  depart  for  the  river  bank  where  we  are  to  meet 
in  council."  All  started,  not  one  remaining  at  home.  They,  too, 
traveled  a  long  distance  before  camping  for  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  early  they,  too,  continued  their  journey  and  in  good  time 


;,y^7rr]  LEGENDS  693 

airivi'd  at  the  river  liaiik.  at  tin'  \)\:\iv  of  iiieetiiig.  There  was 
as-seinbleil  a  large  body  of  people. 

Then  one  of  the  chiefs,  standing  beside  the  river,  said:  "  Behold! 
now  tell  111  •  w  hat  your  thought  is  as  to  how  you  and  1  may  be  able 
to  adjust  our  tidubles  in  j)eaee.  Tell  nie  this.  So  there  is  whal  I 
liave  to  say." 

Then  the  rhief  on  the  o[)]iosite  side  of  the  ri\er.  standing  near 
the  brink,  said:  "  Now  has  come  to  jiass  what  I  think  that  lie  who 
alone  has  made  our  lives,  desires,  but  where  lie  abides  I  do  not 
know,  for  our  lives  ai'e  alike,  our  forms  are  alike,  and  the  color  of 
GUI'  skin  is  tlu'  same,  for  we  ari'  I'eddish  in  color.  \\'e  have  blun- 
ilered.  A\'e  have  only  killed  one  anotlu'r,  and  we  have  only  shed  one 
anotliei's  blood.  .So  let  us  stop  this  evil  work,  and  let  it  not  come  to 
pass  again:  and  let  us  bury  the  scali)ingd<nife,  the  war  bow  and 
arrows,  and  the  liattle-ax;  let  all  these  be  left  deep  in  the  gi'ound: 
and  thereby  we  shall  put  .these  out  of  the  world.  So  this  is  my 
opinion.  Let  us  be  at  peace  in  the  i'liiure:  let  us  be  at  peace  in  our 
minds:  and  let  tlu'  minds  of  our  pi'ople  l)e  at  peace,  those  of  our 
ihildren,  our  women,  and  our  warrioi-s.  Such  is  my  opinion,  and  I 
who  speak  it  am  a  rliit-f.  So  this  i^  enough.  Now  it  is  for  you  to 
s])eak.  you  who  arc  a  chief.  I  do  not  know  whether  what  I  liaxe 
said  is  pleasing  to  you.    Thiswdl   1  do.     I  lia\  e  linished."" 

Tliei-e  wa^  a  givat  sound — (/mn'i — made  by  the  assembled  tribes, 
for  there  were  \ery  many  peojile.  Then  the  chief  on  the  op])osite 
>ide  of  the  rivei',  standing  on  the  shore,  .said:  "  Now.  you  who  are  a 
chief  have  cndc<l  your  address,  atid  I  ai;rcc  to  all  (hat  you  have  said; 
hence  you  and  1  will  adjust  all  our  tidulilcs  and  dilficulties  so  that 
they  may  never  return.  Now.  too.  you  and  I  will  bui-y  deep  in  the 
ground  the  scalping-knife.  the  war  bow  and  arrows,  and  the  battle-ax; 
all  these  things  we  will  place  in  (he  earth,  so  that  none  r)f  (hem 
shall  come  foi'th  again,  and  there  they  shall  disap]>eaf  fiom  the 
earth,     'ihus  let  it  come  to  pa^>.     So,  their." 

Then,  on  tlie  opposite  side  (>(  the  river,  the  other  chief  who  had 
jiropo.sed  this  conference,  arising,  ^aid:  "I  am.  indeed,  thankful 
tha(  my  de--ires  lunc  been  fullillcd  in  (his  peac(d'ul  agreemen(.  I 
do  give  you  many  thanks  foi-  your  part  in  this  matter,  ami  so  now 
you  and  I  v>ill  liurv  in  the  ground  all  those  things  with  which  you 
and  I  have  been  accustomed  to  k\\\  each  other,  in  such  manner  that 
they  shall  never  again  come  forth.  We  will  put  them  out  of  the 
world,  so  that  so  long  as  the  earth  stands  such  things  shall  not  again 
take  ]ilace.     So.  there." 

Then  the  chief  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  arising  in  liis  place, 
said:  "I  am  (haidcfid  for  the  accomiilishment  of  this  great  com- 
]iact  of  peace,  and  T  congratulate  you  as  well,  you  who  are  also  a 
chief.     So   now    we   >hall   lucjiare    it:   and    it   shall    be    very   broail. 


694  SENECA   FICTION.    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

Yoli  and  I  must  set  to  work  so  that  we  may  make  this  good  thing 
lor  our  people;  and  this  shall  be  a  level  (peaceful  and  fruitful) 
country ;  and  thereon  we  must,  one  and  all,  take  one  another  by  the 
arm  (hand) — all  women,  children,  and  men;  and  by  this  means  each 
one  will  bear  testimony  to  the  fact  that  truly,  indeed,  Ave  have  made 
peace  and  have  settled  harmoniously  all  our  difficulties;  and  when 
we  shall  have  taken  one  another  by  the  arm  then  we  must  dance  to 
express  our  joy  and  good  will  and  hope  for  the  continuance  of  this 
peace  during  time  to  come." 

Then  all  who  were  able  to  do  something  were  set  to  work,  and  they 
l^repared  a  symbolical  field  of  peace*""  whereon  they  and  theirs  might 
enjoy  life  and  might  promote  their  welfare  in  such  manner  as  seemed 
to  satisfy  their  desires.  When  they  had  completed  the  task  they 
cried  to  those  across  the  river  who  had  accepted  the  propositions  of 
peace:  "Come  now!  Do  you  come  across  the  river  and  let  us  enjoy 
ounselves  together."  Willingly  obeying,  the  people  soon  crossed 
the  stream,  and  they  soon  were  standing  on  the  prepared  field  of 
peace,  whereon  they  ranged  themselves  in  long  files  preparatory  to 
taking  part  in  the  dances.  Then  the  leaders  grasped  each  other's 
arms,  saying,  "  Now,  let  us  all  take  hold  of  one  another's  arras,  and 
then  let  us  dance,"  and  then  thev  continued,  "  We  must  now  dance 
all  niirht  long."  Then  they  danced.  Thereupon  the  singer  began 
to  sing:  Ha'  'S  hoid'ne\  luC'ff  hold'ne^ ;  wd'^hu,  ivd'^hu,  wd"'hu,  ha"a' 
Jioid'ne''.  (The  only  word  in  this  line  which  has  a  clear  meaning  is 
the  second,  which  is  the  title  of  the  highest  order  of  federal 
chiefs. — Ed.) 

When  daylight  had  come,  one  of  the  chiefs  made  an  addi"ess  of 
thanksgiving.  He  said :  '"  I  am  very  thankful  that  day  has  dawned 
in  peace  on  this  assembly  here  present.  80  now  we  give  our  thanks- 
giving to  Him  whose  place  of  residence  we  still  do  not  know  but 
who  has  made  our  lives.  So  now  you  and  I  have  finished  this  work, 
wliich  puts  an  cntl  to  any  bitter  feeling  between  us  that  might  in 
the  future  lead  some  one  to  seal])  another.  So  now  we  will  separate 
again.  So  now  we,  for  our  part,  will  start  for  our  homes,  and  you, 
too,  will  return  to  your  homes." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  the  t^^o  peoples  arrived  safe  at  their  homes, 
whence  they  had  come  forth  to  make  peace  with  their  enemies,  and 
this  peace  has  lasted  unto  this  day. 

So  this  came  to  pass  in  this  way.    And  this  is  the  end  of  the  legend. 

133.  The  Stoky  or  the  WiirrE  Pigeon,  the  Chief  of  the  Pigeons 

It  is  said  that  among  wild  pigeons  the  white  ones  are  the  chiefs  of 
their  communities.  According  to  tradition,  a  white  pigeon  once  flew 
into  tlie  forest  lodge  of  a  noted  old  man,  the  Wild  Cat.    The  visitor 


HKww]  LEGENDS  695 

dill  no!  appear  ill  at  ease  but  stood  in  ihr  lodfrt'  whorevor  it  seemed 
good  to  liiiii.  and  then  without  remark  lie  liew  away. 

'J"he  old  man.  Wild  Cat,  somewhat  amazed  by  the  (juiet  conduct  of 
his  visitor,  related  the  int'ident  to  his  neifrhbors,  sayiiiL'  liial  this 
visit  portended  that  somethiiif!:  out  of  the  ordinary  was  about  to 
happen.  But  an  entire  year  passed  and  iiothinu;  untisual  had  haj)- 
pened  to  old  ^^'ilcl  Cat  and  lii>  fellows  and  neialiliors. 

But  at  about  the  same  season  the  next  year  the  same  White  Biireon 
again  visited  the  old  man's  lodge.  At  this  visit  the  old  man  believed 
that  the  White  Pigeon  was  a  man  (i.  e.,  one  of  his  own  kind  of 
beings),  so  he  conversed  with  iiiin  on  many  subjects.  During  this 
visit  Wiiite  I'igeon  informed  the  old  man.  Wild  Cat,  (hat  all  the 
various  tribes  of  birds  had  held  a  council  at  which  it  had  been  de- 
cided that  the  wild  ])igeons  siiould  furnish  a  tribute  to  mankind, 
because  theij-  Maker  had  selected  the  wild  ])igeons  for  this  important 
duty  as  most  other  birds  had  only  vny  little  to  give  up  because  their 
mode  of  life  re(Hiired  them  to  live  dispersed  here  and  there,  and  so 
what  they  had  to  oti'er  could  be  ol)tained  oidy  with  ditliculty.  while 
the  others  liad  nothing  to  oU'er  towaril  the  supj)ort  of  mankind. 

So,  the  pigeons  being  the  oidy  tribe  of  birds  which  built  their  ne.sts 
and  reared  their  young  in  a  single  community,  it  was  resohed  by  the 
various  tribes  of  l)irds  liiat  the  pigeons  should  spare  some  of  their 
young  to  men  for  food.  White  Pigeon  contin\ied  by  saying  that  he 
had  come  purposely  to  notify  old  man  A\'ild  Cat  of  this  momentous 
decision,  and  to  tell  him  the  young  pigeons  were  to  be  taken  at  the 
jiroper  sea.son,  and  the  manner  in  which  this  must  be  done. 

lie  said  :  "  In  the  season  of  the  roost,  when  the  young  pigeons  have 
attained  a  suitable  size  for  eating,  the  peoj)le  should  select  a  suitable 
person  as  superintendent  or  niastn-  ot'  the  hunt,  and  he  should  give 
the  needful  directions  to  the  people  for  making  their  preparations  for 
the  hunt  before  starting  ff)r  the  hunting  grounds  in  which  the  pigeons 
have  their  roost  in  the  forest." 

On  such  a  hunting  expeclition  the  entire  community  was  engaged, 
and  so  it  was  not  umisual  to  have  a  very  large  multitude  of  peojilc 
moving  along  a  coimnon  path  at  this  time.  But  to  s-ecnre  ordoj-  and 
obedience  certain  rules  for  the  march  must  be  observed  by  all.  Of 
these,  one  was  that  when  the  parly  halted  to  rest,  to  eat,  or  to  camp 
for  the  night,  the  leailer  wouhj  place  a  rod,  suitably  painted,  across 
the  path,  and  no  one  was  permitted  to  pass  over  it  or  to  go  around  it 
for  the  pur])ose  of  continuing  the  journey  regardless  of  the  rest  of 
the  party.  It  was  held  that  should  one  bix>ak  this  injiniction  some 
misfortune  would  inevitably  befall  the  jiarty.  '\^'hen  the  party  was 
ready  to  proceetl  the  leatler  would  take  np  the  rod  and  then  the 
journey  would  be  resumed. 


696  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [ etu.  a.v.n.  32 

Upon  nearing  the  roosting  place  of  the  pigeons  it  was  customary 
to  make  a  collection  of  gifts  from  the  people,  consisting  of  various 
articles  of  ornament  and  trinkets  of  all  kinds,  for  an  offering  to  the 
pigeons.  These  freely  given  gifts  were  jjlaced  in  a  bark  bowl  and 
this  was  borne  solemnly  into  the  forest  to  some  swampy  place  where 
tall  weeds  were  plentiful,  and  these  gifts  were  spread  out  on  a  piece 
of  elm  bark  while  native  tobacco  was  burned  and  an  invocation  to 
the  oti'ering  was  nuide  to  the  pigeons  and  their  Maker. 

Tradition  reports  that  for  the  first  hunting  expedition  the  people 
as  a  whole  did  not  observe  the  rules  of  the  master  of  the  hunt,  which 
he  had  learned  from  the  White  Pigeon.  So  some  went  around  the 
painted  rod  placed  across  the  path  when  the  party  halted  for  any 
purpose;  others  withheld  presents  from  the  offering,  and  many 
accidents  happened  to  them;  some  broke  their  legs,  others  their 
arms,  some  fell  sick,  and  some  died.  A  gi-eat  number  of  misfoi-tunes 
befell  the  expedition. 

After  the  expedition  had  returned  to  the  home  lands  this  fact 
aroused  much  discussion.  So  the  old  man.  Wild  Cat.  questioned 
his  people  as  to  their  conduct,  and  they  informed  him.  He  declared 
that  they  had  brought  these  ills  upon  themselves  and  urged  them  to 
observe  strictl}'  the  rule  which  the  White  Pigeon  had  given  them 
for  their  guidance  if  they  wished  to  avoid  these  misfortunes.  So 
the  following  season  the  people  went  out  to  the  hunt,  but  they  care- 
fully observed  the  rules  laid  down  for  their  guidance  and  all  went 
well,  and  so  every  spring  for  20  years  they  continued  to  go  out  on 
these  expeditions  without  any  marked  untoward  events  taking  place. 

But  toward  the  end  of  this  period  many  factions  had  arisen  among 
the  people.  The  young  people  asked.  What  is  the  need  for  these 
things?  Pigeons  may  be  killed  at  any  time  of  the  year.  They  are 
fit  for  food  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  What  can  i^igeons  do  with  these 
offerings  of  ornaments  and  trinkets  which  they  are  not  able  to  wear  or 
make  any  use  of?  Another  faction  of  the  people  killed  the  pigeons 
wherever  and  whenever  they  found  them,  killing  both  the  young  and 
the  old  pigeons.  Another  faction  boasted  that  its  members  had  no  faith 
in  wjiat  was  done,  and  so  they  had  no  desire  to  engage  in  j^igeon 
hunting,  even  refusing  to  eat  any  of  the  pigeon  meat  when  it  was 
offered  to  them.  But  it  was  not  long  before  misfortune  began  to 
assail  these  seditious  factions.  The  members  of  the  faction  which 
had  refused  to  eat  any  of  the  pigeon  meat  died  off  one  by  one. 
Before  the  visit  of  the  White  Pigeon  they  never  died,  they  seemed  to 
be  immortal;  but  now  disease  and  death  abounded  among  them 
because  they  had  failed  to  obey  the  regulations  prescribed  by  the 
AVhite  Pigeon  for  their  guidance. 

These  conditions  continued  for  some  time,  becoming  more  and 
more   distressful   as  time   elapsed.     Then,   for  the  third  time,   the 


S^-l^]  lege:;ds  697 

\\'liiti'  I'igcoii  visited  till'  oiil  lUMii.  ln'iiiir  just  I'O  veiirs  al'lcr  tiic  sec- 
ond visit.  The  old  111:111  did  not  know  that  hi'  was  talkin<r  to  tlie  tliii't' 
of  tlie  pigeons,  for  lie  appeared  to  him  in  all  respects  us  a  niua. 

The  AMiite  Pigeon  infornied  the  old  man  thai  thereafter  as  long  as 
the  world  should  last  men  and  women  woidd  die  because  they  hail 
disobeyed  the  rules  proilaimed  liy  the  Pigeon  people.  And,  further, 
that  in  the  future  people  must  not  kill  any  white  pigeon,  and  that 
they  must  observe  the  miles  for  the  hunting  of  pigeons,  and  that  this 
was  his  last  visit  to  him.    And  immediately  he  flew  away. 

The  conditions  among  the  peo[)le  ilid  not  change  for  the  better; 
the  several  factions  still  existed,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  connuon 
purpose  in  the  community;  some  of  the  factions  observed  the  rules 
for  hunting,  some  oidy  in  part,  while  still  others  paid  no  attention 
to  them,  even  mocking  those  who  did.  Some  years  [ja.-sed  when  a 
stranger  came  among  this  ])eople  and  liiuling  his  way  to  llie  lodge 
of  the  old  man  he  said  lo  him.  ""  ^ Hu  mu~t  accompany  me."  A\'itliout 
any  i[uestion  the  tild  man  followed  him.  for  he  regarded  liini  as  a  man 
like  himself. 

Thej'  traveled  for  a  numiier  of  days  until  linally  they  came  to  the 
place  in  which  lived  the  tiibe  of  the  stranger,  which  was  a  ])lace 
situated  on  the  top  of  wiy  lofty  mountains.  The  stranger's  friends 
received  the  old  man  with  e\(i  \'  mark  of  respect  and  kindness.  This 
jjeople  were  the  Donyon.la  (i.  e..  Kagle  |)eople).  although  to  the  old 
nuin  they  appeared  to  him  as  men  like  himself. 

There  were  among  the  old  man's  jieople  jiersons  without  faith  in 
the  teachings  of  the  old  man  which  he  i-e]iorted  he  had  learned  from 
the  'White  Pigeon.  And  (here  came  a  day  when  a  man  of  the  Crow 
tribe  of  people  told  one  of  these  disbelievers  that  the  old  man.  their 
chief,  was  at  that  time  living  among  the  Donyonda.  or  Eagle  people, 
and  offered  to  conduct  him  lo  the  land  of  the  Donyonda  people.  The 
disbeliever  accepted  the  ])roj)Osal  of  the  Crow  man  and  so  they  set 
out  together.  The  Crow  man  and  his  companion  finally  reached  the 
land  of  the  D<myonda  ])eople  on  the  top  of  a  very  lofty  mountain. 

The  old  chief  recognized  the  man  from  his  home,  liut  he  would 
have  nothiiiir  at  all  to  do  with  him  either  by  word  or  act.  Pie  even 
went  so  far  as  lo  say  to  his  adoiited  friends.  "This  man  lias  come 
here  for  no  good  purpose;  the  working  of  his  mind  is  very  different 
from  that  of  ours."'  Conseiiucntly,  the  chief  man  of  the  Donyonda 
people  ordered  one  of  their  warriors  to  take  this  man  away  and  to 
throw  him  onto  the  moon.  So  on  the  following  day  the  warrior 
placed  the  man  on  his  back  and  bore  him  swiftly  away;  and  when 
he  reached  the  side  of  the  moon  he  cast  the  man  onto  the  moon's  side 
and  left  him  there,  and  he  remains  there  to  this  day. 

P.iit  old  Chief  "Wild  Cat  lived  with  the  Donyonda  people  for  a 
number  of  years.    As  time  passed,  however,  the  mind  of  the  old  chief 


698  SENECA   FICTlOlSr,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  asn.  32 

hocame  affected  and  he  became  morose  and  despondent,  which  re- 
sulted in  his  becoming  obnoxious  to  the  people  of  his  adoption. 
Things  went  from  bad  to  worse,  and  so  finally  the  Donyonda  people 
held  a  council,  where  it  was  stated  that  because  the  old  chief  could 
or  would  not  think  the  things  which  harmonized  with  their  thoughts 
tiiey  would  send  him  to  a  tril^e  of  people  who  agree  with  no  one.  not 
even  with  their  own  people,  and  who  were  hostile  to  all  other  tribes 
of  people.  So  they  chose  one  of  their  principal  men  to  take  the  old 
chief  the  next  day  to  the  brink  of  the  mountain  and  to  roll  him  down 
the  mountain. 

This  was  done,  and  the  old  chief  rolled  swiftly  down  the  moun- 
tain side.  He  went  down  so  swiftly  that  he  screeched  with  fear; 
but  finally  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain  and  the  level  groiind. 
Upon  reaching  the  foot  of  the  mountain  he  was  transformed  into  the 
bodily  form  of  a  wolf  and  also  found  that  he  was  in  a  swamp  in 
whitli  the  Wolf  tribe  dwelt.  They  welcomed  him  in  a  most  friendly 
manner.     So  he  lived  here  among  the  Wolf  people  for  some  time. 

But  the  old  man  had  not  lived  here  long  before  trouble  arose  be- 
tween him  and  the  Wolf  people.  The  lapse  of  time  only  emphasized 
the  disagreements  and  the  hostility  of  the  Wolf  people  against  the 
old  man.  Finally  the  Wolf  people  began  to  be  very  angry  with  the 
Wild  Cat  for  his  provocative  acts,  and  then  it  was  not  long  before 
the  Wolf  tribe  fell  upon  the  old  man.  Wild  Cat,  and  tore  him  in 
pieces  and  devoured  him.  They  left  his  bones  gnawed  clean  on  the 
ground. 

At  the  time  that  the  Eagle  man  visited  the  old  man.  Wild 
Cat.  the  old  man  had  a  grandson  who  was  a  mere  boy — a  child. 
But  at  the  time  the  old  man  was  devoured  by  the  Wolf  people  the 
grandson  of  old  Wild  Cat  had  grown  up  to  be  a  young  man.  And 
he  still  rememliered  his  grandfather.  Wild  Cat.  and  at  times  he  would 
wonder  where  his  grandfather  hail  gone  and  what  had  become  of 
him. 

So  there  came  a  day  when  the  grandson  said,  "  I  will  now  travel 
to  see  what  has  become  of  my  grandfather.  I  will  seek  for  him  in 
the  lands  toward  the  sunrise."  So,  after  making  suitable  prepara- 
tions, he  started  on  his  cjuest  for  his  grandfather. 

He  journeyed  eastward  for  many  days,  when  finally  he  met  a  man 
who  questioned  him,  asking,  "Where  are  you  going?  ^Miere  are  you 
from?"  The  grandson  replied,  "I  am  traveling  in  search  of  my 
grandfather."  After  this  conversation  each  went  on  his  way.  The 
grandson  continued  his  journey  for  some  time  when  he  met  the  second 
man,  who  asked,  "Where  are  you  going?  Where  are  you  from?" 
The  gi-andson  replied,  "  I  am  traveling  in  search  of  my  grandfather." 
Then  the  man  said.  "  I  have  seen  your  grandfather  living  among  the 
Eagle  people."    The  grandson  continued  his  journey  eastward  until 


,7,';^,'?']  LEGENDS  699 

111'  filially  came  to  the  (Iwclliiiij:  place  of  the  Eaple  people  on  the 
iiiouiitain.  Here  he  was  infoniied  that  his  <rran(lfather  had  been  ex- 
pelled t'l-oin  tliese  ])e()ple.  and  that  he  ha<l  heeii  i-olled  down  the  luoiin- 
tuiii  to  the  Wolf  triiie.  "What  am  T  to  do^"  asked  the  jrianilson. 
"  Yoti  had  better  <rc)  hdine."  said  the  old  chief  of  thr  KaLde  people, 
"for  if  you  do  not  return  home  you  shall  lose  your  mind  and  the 
mind  of  your  people;  you  shall  become  somethinij:  else,  someone  else." 
'riieii  the  orandson  asked.  "Can  you  chaniie  me  luiw  so  that  I  may 
<j<)  to  the  ])lace  where  my  jrraiulfather  is^  "  They  replietl,  "  Yes;  we 
Clin  chanfie  you  so  that  you  can  jio  thither  with  pei'fect  safety." 

The  ofrandson  luuiiiir  iri\en  his  consent  to  this  proposition,  he  was 
soon  cliaiiijed  into  a  iianther  and  then  rolled  down  the  mountain  into 
Wolf  swamp,  where  many  \\'olf  peo])le  lived.  The  presence  of  the 
panther  arou.sed  the  bitter  liostility  of  the  Wolf  people,  who  attacked 
liim  savagely  in  an  attem]it  to  kill  him.  Hut  owing  to  liis  great 
strengtli  they  were  unable  to  accomplish  their  purpose. 

So  he  traveled  from  jilace  to  plaee  in  the  A\'olf  country,  where  he 
was  regarded  as  an  open  enemy,  although  he  was  engaged  only  in 
looking  f(u-  his  grandfather.  'Jdieie  came  a  day  when  he  found  his 
bones,  and  ]^lacing  togetlier  the  bones  under  a  large  liieKory  tree  he 
jiushed  against  the  tree,  shouting  "  Ai-ise,  oh.  grandfather.  The 
tree  is  about  to  fall  on  you."'  His  grandfather  heard  his  warning 
and  at  once  sprang  ui).     He  recognized  his  grandson. 

Hut  the  grandfather  would  not  agree  with  his  grandson  as  to  how 
to  live,  where  to  go.  or  what  to  do.  So,  aftei-  much  bitter  fighting, 
they  finally  separated.  The  grandfather  went  in  search  of  his  own 
people  and  the  grandson  in  (piest  of  his. 

^\'lien  the  grandfather  met  the  ac(|iiaiiilaiues  of  his  early  life  he 
was  no  more  able  to  agree  with  them  than  he  was  before  lie  left 
them:  so.  after  much  strife  and  fighting,  the  people  fuially  became 
so  enraged  at  him  that  they  fell  on  him  and  for  the  second  time  he 
was  killed  and  eaten  up.  and  his  bones  were  left  bleaching  (ui  the 
ground  where  they  had  devoured  liim. 

The  grandson  journeyed  from  place  to  jihu'c  f(U-  a  long  time,  and 
he  encountered  many  difliciihies  and  disapi)oint merits  in  his  <|nest 
for  ]ieople  of  his  own  tribe. 

But  one  dav  he  was  pursued  by  a  hunter  \\  ith  three  dogs.  Wlien 
thf  dogs  came  within  rearii  the  gran<lson  killed  them  one  liy  one  be- 
fore the  hiniter  could  come  to  their  assistance,  and  tlius  he  escaped 
from  death  at  the  hanils  of  the  hunter. 

So.  passing  lieyond  this  ]daee.  he  met  one  day  a  woman  of  his  own 
tribe.  He  addressed  her  ])leasantly  and  she  rejilied  in  the  same 
mood.  This  woman  finally  agreed  to  marry  the  grandson.  .\s  the 
years  passed  they  became  possessed  of  a  large  family,  consisting  of 
several  bovs  and  jrirls.     It  was  not  manv  years  before  these  children 


700  SENECA   FICnON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  asn.  32 

were  large  enough  to  look  out  for  themselves.  In  the  meanwhile 
the  father  and  mother  quarreled  bittei'ly,  then  these  boys  and  girls 
quarreled  among  themselves,  and  lastly  with  their  parents.  The  re- 
sult of  this  condition  of  aft'airs  was  that  the  family  dispersed,  each 
one  going  off  alone. 

Again,  the  grandson  was  left  alone,  having  no  friends  or  family 
of  his  own.  He  was  left  completeh'  to  his  own  resources  for  pro- 
viding the  means  of  his  living  and  for  protecting  himself  from  his 
enemies.  He  traveled  many  dreary  days  in  solitude.  But  there 
came  a  day  when  he  met  a  woman  of  the  Panther  tribe  of  people,  who 
was  cooking  some  deer  meat  for  herself.  As  the  grandson  was  very 
hungiy  he  asked  this  woman  to  share  some  (jf  the  deer  meat  with  him, 
but  she  refused  absolutely  to  sjiare  him  a  morsel. 

So,  hungry  as  he  was.  he  had  to  pass  on  without  anything  to  eat. 
Some  time  afterwards  he  was  foi-tunate  enough  to  kill  a  deer.  So, 
after  dressing  it  and  preparing  it  properly  and  cooking  it,  he  sat 
down  to  eat.  And  while  he  was  enjoying  his  venison  the  woman 
who  had  refused  him  a  portion  of  venison.boldly  came  up  and  asked 
him  for  some  of  the  venison.  He  showed  his  teeth  and  growled  and 
snarled  so  fiercely  that  he  finally  drove  the  old  woman  away. 

When  he  had  finished  his  meal  he  packed  up  his  belongings  and 
departed.  He  traveled  several  days  fi-om  place  to  place.  Suddenly 
he  became  aware  that  several  hunters  with  three  dogs  were  pursuing 
him.  So  he  fled  from  that  place  until  he  became  wearied  and  then 
he  climbed  a  very  tall  tree.  There  he  hoped  to  escaj^e  his  pursuers, 
but  the  dogs  tracked  him  so  well  that  soon  the  hunters  were  under 
the  tree.  A\'hereui)on  one  of  the  hunters  shot  him.  mortally  wound- 
ing him,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground  in  a  dying  condition.  The  dying 
Panther  man  said  to  the  hunters.  "  This,  your  act,  shall  cause  bitter 
hostility  between  your  people  and  my  tribe,  and  many  of  both  tribes 
will  die  in  conseciuence." 

As  the  huirters  were  bearing  the  body  of  the  Panther  man  home- 
ward, a  Panther  man  met  them  and  saw  the  dead  body  of  the  Panther 
man — one  of  his  own  kindred.  At  once  he  returned  to  his  people, 
telling  them  what  he  had  seen.  So  with  two  other  Panther  men  he 
retraced  his  steps  to  find  the  guilty  hunters. 

The  three  Panther  men  were  not  long  in  finding  the  camping  place 
of  the  hunters  and  they  quickly  succeeded  in  killing  the  dogs  and  the 
hunters  and  in  devouring  them,  leaving  their  bones  to  bleach  on 
the  ground. 

The  friends  and  kinsmen  of  the  hunters  waited  many  days  for  the 
return  of  the  himters  and  their  dogs,  but  they  waited  in  vain.  So  a 
number  of  them  formed  a  party  and  went  out  in  search  of  them. 
They  found  their  bones  on  the  path  and  also  the  dead  body  of  the 
Panther  man.    In  the  thickets  near  bv  thev  also  found  other  Panther 


^l^^:^]  LEGENDS  701 

men  asleep.  Tliose  discoveries  were  repdrted  in  tiie  village  of  the 
dead  hunters,  and  llicie  was  aroused  a  liitter  feeling  against  the 
I'antiier  people;  anil  so  all  who  were  ahle  to  go  out  to  hunt  I'antlici' 
]ie()ple  started  out  to  destroy  the  Patither  tribe. 

This  resulted  in  a  l)itter  sti-ife  ix'tween  tiie  ])eoi)le  of  the  village 
and  the  Panther  tril)e.  and  many  of  the  bravest  on  both  sides  were 
killed  without  bringing  any  satisfai'tion  to  eitiier  side.  During  tliis 
struggle  the  bones  of  the  grandson  lay  bleaching  on  tiie  i)atii  in  tlie 
foi-est.  But  it  so  happened  that  one  of  his  sons  one  day  passed  along 
that  path,  and  he  recognized  his  father's  bones.  So  by  gathering 
them  together  untlei-  a  large  hickory  tree  and  setting  them  in  nr.ler 
the  son  of  the  Panther  man  brought  his  father  back  to  life  by 
pushing  against  the  hickory  tree  and  shouting,  "  Father,  arise  lest  the 
tree  topple  ox  ei-  on  you." 

When  the  father  aiose  he  had  the  form  which  he  had  when  he  left 
his  liome  in  the  \illage  in  search  of  his  grandfather.  This  transfor- 
mation frighteneil  the  son  so  much  thai  he  lied  through  the  forest 
away  from  that  place,  and  the  gi-andson  matle  his  way  home  to  the 
village  of  his  own  jjeople.  lie  entertained  his  friends  and  kindred 
with  the  recital  of  his  adventui'es. 

Theie  came  a  day  when  the  old  Eagle,  who  had  enticed  away  old 
man  A\'ild  Cat,  was  in  a  reminiscent  mood,  and  so  he  wondered  what 
had  become  of  the  old  man  whom  he  had  left  among  the  Wolf  liibe. 
So  he  finally  resolved  to  ]^ay  a  visit  to  tiie  country  of  the  ^^'olf  peo- 
ple. He  left  his  home  and  traveled  along  toward  the  AA'olf  coun- 
try. At  last  lie  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  scattered  arouml  the 
bones  of  the  old  man,  his  fiiend.  So  he  decided  to  aid  his  old  friend 
by  bringing  him  to  life  again.  He  therefore  collected  togethei-  the 
bones  lying  about  and  placed  them  in  order  nndci'  a  great  elm  tree, 
and  when  he  had  gathered  all  the  bones  he  stepped  \i]>  to  the  elm  tree 
and  suddenly  e.xclaimed.  "  lie  (piick.  fi'iend,  arise,  lest  the  tree  fall 
on  you.""  \t  once  the  old  man.  ^\'ild  Cat.  leaped  ii])  in  his  original 
sliai)e  and  contlition  in  form  and  mintl.  a  man.  So.  after  the  usual 
greetings,  the  old  Eagle  chief  led  his  friend  home  to  his  own  people, 
whenci'  he  had  taken  him  so  long  ago.  Having  arrixed  there,  old 
man  AVild  Cat  found  his  grandson,  and  to  him  he  rcdated  all  his  ad- 
ventures while  away  from  his  ])eoi)le.  He  declared.  "■  AVe  must  highly 
esteem  the  Pigeon  tribe  of  peojile."     (Then  1  left  there.) 

l:'-l.  Tin;  AVi-.r.piNG  ok  thk  Coisn.  .\m)  I'ic.w,  and  S(,ir.\sii  Picoci.e 

There  was  in  the  olden  time  a  village  of  the  Iro(juois  which  was 
-situated  in  a  very  fertile  and  beautiful  country.  They  raised  corn 
and  beans  and  s<|uashes.  and  for  many  years  they  were  contented  and 
prosperous.  Hut  there  cami'  a  lime  when  their  cro]is  began  to  fail 
them — the  corncobs  were  bare  of  grains,  the  bean  pods  were  em|)ty. 


702  SEXECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  an.n.  32 

and  tlie  squashes  would  wither  awa}'  before  the  time  to  harvest  them. 
The  peojDle  went  hungry,  for  they  had  no  food  from  their  fields  and 
game  was  very  scarce. 

One  day  a  very  old  woman,  who  was  Matron  and  Chief  of  her 
clan,  was  walking  near  her  planted  field,  meditating  on  the  misfor- 
tune of  her  people.  As  she  walked  she  heard  bitter  weeping  out  in 
the  field,  and  she  at  once  decided  that  some  one  must  be  in  deep  dis- 
tress. So,  walking  into  the  planted  field,  she  was  surprised  to  find 
that  it  was  the  corn  that  was  weeping;  and  the  beans  were  weeping 
too ;  and  the  squashes  were  weeping  also.  The  old  woman  had  great 
comjiassion  for  the  corn  and  the  beans  and  the  squashes  for  their 
weeping.  She  stopped  beside  a  hill  of  corn  and  asked,  ''  Oh,  you 
dear  Corn,  why  do  you  weep?  Tell  me  the  reason."  The  Corn  be- 
tween sobs  said,  "  You  jjlace  us  in  the  gi'ound  to  grow,  but  you  do  not 
perform  your  further  duties  to  us.  You  do  not  cover  us  with  suffi- 
cient earth  as  you  know  you  should;  and  you  do  not  hill  up  the 
earth  about  our  feet  so  that  we  can  stand  firm ;  and  you  fail  to  dig  up 
the  earth  sufficiently  around  us  to  give  us  water:  so  it  is  that  many 
of  us  have  remained  only  a  few  hours  or  a  day  or  two  and  then  have 
gone  home;  only  a  small  number  of  us  remain  and  now  we  axe  all 
dying  because'  of  your  neglect.  You  even  permit  our  enemies  to 
strangle  us  to  death."' 

As  the  old  Matron  listened  to  this  pitiful  story  she  was  bitterly 
grieved.  She  then  went  to  the  Bean  people  and  to  the  Squash  peo- 
ple, and  from  both  she  heard  the  same  painful  story  of  neglect  by 
her  people.  She  was  deeply  moved,  and  so  she  went  to  her  lodge 
and  wept  along  the  path  homeward.  Having  seated  herself  on  her 
coucli  in  her  lodge,  she  kept  on  weeping.  Her  people  having  heard 
her  sobbing  were  much  puzzled  by  it,  and  they  being  moved  by  sym- 
pathy also  began  to  weej)  with  their  Matron.  Soon  many  persons 
had  assembled  at  her'lodge,  and  they  all  were  mourning  with  the  old 
woman. 

Finally,  the  chief  of  the  clan  came  to  the  lodge  and  addressing  the 
people  he  told  them  to  cease  their  weeping  and  to  be  of  good  cheer; 
and  that  he  would  ask  their  Matron  what  had  caused  her  to  return 
from  the  planted  field  with  such  giief.  So  the  people  ceased  their 
weeping,  and  then  the  chief,  addressing  their  Matron,  who  was  still 
sobbing  bitterly,  asked,  "  Mother,  what  caused  you  to  weep  while 
you  were  in  the  planted  field  ?  "  After  somewhat  composing  herself 
she  replied  to  this  question  by  saying  that  she  had  heard  bitter 
wailings  in  the  planted  fields  and  that  on  going  there  to  learn  the 
cause  the  Corn  people,  and  the  Bean  people,  and  the  Squash  people 
had  complained  to  her  that  she  and  her  people  had  not  properly 
cared  for  them  by  not  covering  them  with  sufficient  earth  to  enable 
them  to  live  and  by  permitting  their  enemies  to  grow  up  around 


;,--',y  LEGENDS  703 

tlu'in  so  that  they  had  no  more  grouiKl  on  wliuh  to  .stand.  Tlicn 
the  Matron  ceased  talkinjr.  hut  ke])t  on  wee])in<r. 

Upon  hearing  this  statement  tlie  people,  assured  the  chief  that  this 
was  the  first  information  they  had  recived  as  to  the  reason  why 
their  Matron  liad  been  <rrieving  so  bitterly. 

Thereupon  the  chief  called  a  council  of  his  clan  and  laid  before 
it  the  remarkable  statement  of  their  Matron.  The  council  upon 
hearing  this  recital  resolveil  that  in  the  future  whoever  planted 
either  corn  or  beans  or  scjiiashes  must  cover  the  gi'ain  with  sutli- 
cient  earth  to  give  it  sustenance,  and  must  care  for  the  growing 
plants  by  properly  hilling  them  and  by  digging  around  them  to 
loosen  the  earth  to  make  it  mellow,  and  lastly,  by  destroying  their 
enemies  (the  weeds)  who  gi-ew  about  them  -so  luxuriantly. 

So,  in  the  following  spring,  when  planting  time  returned,  they 
were  again  admonished  as  to  the  proper  methotls  of  planting  the 
corn,  the  beans,  and  the  scjuashes.  The  people  all  agreed  that  they 
would  follow  the  advice  of  the  cuuncil  in  this  matter  because  of  the 
statement  of  their  Matron  as  to  the  real  cause  of  their  withered 
crops. 

So.  in  accordance  with  this  resolution,  the  next  springtime  they 
did  j)lace  the  .seed  coin  and  beans  and  s(iuashes  sufficiently  ilee[)  in  the 
ground  to  give  these  gi-ains  sullirient  covering  of  earth  to  gi-ow  well. 
The  old  chief  stood  by  the  jjlantei's  while  they  were  seeding  their 
fields  to  see  that  the  work  was  ])rnpeily  done.  Later,  when  the 
tender  sjirouts  of  corn  and  beans  and  siiuashes  had  reached  such 
height  that  they  required  more  earth  to  sup])ort  them,  the  people 
were  called  together  and  urged  to  hill  up  their  growing  crops  and  to 
destroy  thoroughly  the  enemies  (weeds)  of  these  useful  plants. 
These  plants  were  growing  luxuriantly  and  were  strong,  but  toward 
harvest  time  something  came  and  destroyi'd  these  gi-owing  crops.  A 
certain  nation  of  jieople  came  and  carried  away  the  corn  and  (he 
beans,  leaving  only  some  s(|ua.sh  shells.  Again  the  peojjle  mourned 
their  loss,  confessing  that  they  must  have  been  guilty  of  some  other 
form  of  negligence. 

So  the  following  spring  they  again  took  great  pains  in  their  plant- 
ing and  in  their  care  for  their  crops;  but  just  as  soon  as  the  green 
corn  was  becoming  fine  and  fit  to  eat  a  certain  nation  of  people  be- 
gan to  steal  the  corn  and  beans  and  s(]uashes.  The  people  sus- 
pected what  people  had  come  and  carried  away  their  corn  and  beans 
and  squashes. 

So  the  chief  of  the  people  called  a  council  to  discuss  the  situation 
and  to  suggest  means  to  meet  it.  It  was  finally  resolved  that  several 
stout  and  alert  warriors  should  be  set  to  watch  the  planted  fields 
to  see  who  might  come  to  steal  the  ripening  crops.  These  watchmen 
went  into  the  fields  in  the  evening.    Toward  the  dawn  of  day  they 


70-i  SEKECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  [eth.  a.nx.  32 

discovered  a  iiTiniljer  of  persons  who  were  tearing  off  the  ears  of  corn 
and  the  bean  pods,  and  also  others  who  were  stealing  the  squashes. 
Tliese  thieves  they  captured  and  held  as  prisoners.  These  prisoners 
were  taken  in  the  morning  to  the  council  lodge  before  the  clan  chief. 

The  chief,  after  looking  the  prisoners  over,  remarked  that  these 
thieves  were  their  enemies  because  they  had  stolen  their  corn  and 
beans  and  squashes.  Then  he  asked  one  of  the  corn  thieves,  "Where 
do  you  live?"  ''A  long  way  hence  in  the  forest,"  came  the  reply. 
"Are  there  many  of  your  people  ?  "  continued  the  chief.  "  We  are  a 
large  nation,"  came  the  answer.  In  like  manner  he  questioned  the 
squash  thief  and  the  bean  thieves,  and  these  made  replies  similar  to 
those  made  by  the  corn  thieves. 

They  bound  the  corn  thieves  and  daily  they  took  them  out  of  the 
lodge  and  all  the  chiefs  and  the  people  came  to  see  them,  and  every- 
one was  priviledged  to  strike  these  thieves  a  blow  wnth  a  staff,  and 
the  thieves  would  weep  bitterly  at  this  treatment.  Then  they  would 
be  taken  back  into  tlie  lodge.  The  bean  thieves  and  the  squash 
thieves  were  also  daily  punished  in  this  way. 

Daily  the  corn  thie\es  wept  loudly.  After  a  long  time  had  elapsed 
these  thieves  were  told  that  if  they  wouhl  conduct  the  people  to  their 
own  nation  they  would  lie  set  free.  The  corn  thieves  agreed  to  this 
jn-oposition  and  tlie  old  chief  selei'ted  a  party  of  his  warriors  to  lead 
the  thieves  back  to  their  own  nation. 

The  corn  thieves  led  the  warriors  a  long  way  into  the  forest.  But 
at  last  they  came  to  a  settlement,  and  the  thieves  said  this  is  a  village 
of  our  people.  The  warriors  killed  many  of  the  ])eo])]e,  and  then 
they  set  free  the  thieves  whom  they  had  brought  back  to  their  country. 
The  people  whom  the  warriors  had  killed  were  carried  home. 

Then  some  warriors  were  sent  to  the  squash  stealers  with  an  order 
to  split  theii"  u]iper  lips  so  that  they  would  not  be  able  to  eat 
squashes  again. 

It  is  said  that  the  warriors  whipped  the  corn  thieves  so  much 
during  their  captivity  that  they  wept  so  much  that  their  faces  were 
striped  and  their  l)acks  were  striped  and  their  tails  were  ringed, 
from  the  blows  they  received;  and  these  marks  have  remained  to 
this  day.  The  corn  thieves  were  raccoons.  The  squash  thieves  were 
rabbits  (haresO.  and  tlieir  li])s  have  renniined  split  to  this  day 
from  this  punishment. 

Tradition  says  that  the  ancestors  of  the  Seneca  thought  that  all 
trees  and  shrubs  and  plants  were  endowed  with  human  life  and 
were  divided  into  families,  having  brothers  and  sisters,  fathers  and 
mothers.  And  that  in  like  manner  the  Corn,  and  Beans,  and  the 
y(|uash  have  human  lives,  and  that  if  one  offended  them  they  would 
grieve  and  would  depart  and  would  leave  the  people  without  food. 


hewittJ  legends  70a 

135.  S"iiAi;(i\\i;N(irMiA.  TiiK  Si'iiiiT  (IF  ■nii;  'I'lmis 

III  till'  loiin;  ;i<j;()  an  iiiicIl'  aiul  his  iU'])lu'\v.  liis  sister's  son,  dwelt 
together  in  a  Iodide.  It  so  liappened  thai  the  uncle,  the  elder  man, 
had  to  keep  a  recunihent  position.  lie  had  lain  so  lonj;  that  the 
loots  of  ii  tri'e  standinjr  near  their  hnlge  had  overgrown  his  hod}',  so 
it  was  (|uite  iiniiossihle  foi-  iiiin  to  arise. 

As  time  passed  he  ealled  his  in'phew  to  him  and  said  to  the  j^outh : 
"Go  yonder  in  tlie  distance  (o  the  clearings,  where  the  logs  are  l.ving 
one  on  tiie  top  of  anotlu-r.  and  jilant  lliere  heans.  corn,  and  squashe.s. 
They  make  good  eating,  1  assure  you.  And  if  these  things  should 
grow  under  your  cultivation  they  will  fuinish  us  with  .something  to 
eat  in  the  future."    Thus  sjioke  the  ohl  man. 

In  a  short  time  he  continued:  "  Bring  forth  from  uiuler  the  couch 
yonder  a  basket  in  which  there  is  some  seed  corn,  as  it  is  called." 
The  youth  brought  the  basket  and  placed  it  beside  the  old  man. 
With  the  seed  corn  wi're  the  beans  for  seed  and  the  squash  seeij. 

Then  the  old  man  said  to  the  youth:  "  Hring  me  from  under  the 
couch  yonder  the  small  baskets,  10  in  number;  I  need  them;  for  you 
must  make  a  girdle  of  baskets  around  your  body."  So  the  nephew 
bi'ought  the  baskets  to  his  uncle,  who  with  his  own  hands  placed 
in  each  of  the  baskets  some  of  tiie  se\cral  kinds  of  seeds,  thus  di\  id- 
ing  the  seed  corn,  the  beans  for  seeil.  and  the  si|Ua>h  seed.  lie  care- 
fidly  completed  his  task. 

Having  done  so,  he  aildiessed  his  nephew,  saying:  "Come,  now! 
go  ycuider  to  the  dealings  where  the  logs  are  lying  one  on  the  toj) 
of  another,  and  there  you  must  plant  these  seeds."  The  young 
nephew  I'cplied:  "So  be  it.  my  motln'iV  ludther.  1  will  |ila<'e  t)e- 
fiide  you  all  the  things  which  may  be  necessary  foi-  yoii  while  I 
.shall  be  absent  planting  the  seeds."  So  the  nei)hew  placed  besidi' 
his  uncle  a  bark  dish  containing  hominy,  a  tire  poker  and  a  knife, 
and  a  cake  of  boiled  corn  bread.  Then  he  said  to  his  uncle:  "I  am 
now  going  to  ]ilant  the  seeds." 

Having  arr'ivi'd  al  the  clearings  he  set  to  woi-l<  iirejiaring  the 
ground  for  planting  the  seeds  which  he  had  brought.  He  had  been 
at  woi'k  a  considerable  time  and  had  already  planted  a  nnmiier  of 
hills  when  he  lieaid  the  voice  of  his  uncle  singing.  The  words  of  the 
.song  were:  "  Now.  now,  now  I  believe  that  I  ha\e  arisen, now  indeed.'' 
At  this  the  youthful  nephew  ran  back  swiftly  to  the  lodge  to  prc- 
\ent  his  uncle  from  aii>ing.  Having  arrived  there  the  young  man 
seized  his  uncle  and  repressed  his  doiir  to  arise,  asking  him.  '"What 
has  come  to  ]3ass  that  you  began  to  singT"  Th(>  uncle  re])lied:  "I 
became  thirsty,  and  so  I  began  to  sing."'  The  young  man  bi-ou<rht 
his  uncle  watei-  to  di-iidv.  and  after  the  latter  had  (jiienched  his  thirst 
the  youthful  nephew  said  to  him:  "  You  must  now  lie  (juiet,  as  I  ask 
OJClo"— IG !5 


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

you  to  do."  The  uncle  answered :  "  Return  again  to  the  clearings  to 
plant  the  seeds.  As  there  are  no  more  left  in  the  lodge  you  must  pick 
up  those  which  you  dropped  from  your  baskets."  He  referi-ed  to  the 
10  small  baskets  in  which  he  had  himself  placed  the  various  kinds  of 
seeds. 

So  as  soon  as  the  j'oung  man  had  gathered  up  all  the  seeds  which 
he  had  spilled  along  the  path  as  he  had  hastened  toward  the  lodge 
he  again  began  to  plant  them  in  hills.  Again,  as  he  had  nearly 
finished  seeding,  he  heard  the  voice  of  his  uncle  singing:  "  Xow,  now. 
now  I  believe  that  I  have  arisen,  now  indeed." 

The  nei:>hew  at  once  started  on  the  run  for  the  old  lodge,  but  when 
he  had  gone  only  half  the  way  he  heard  a  loud  report,  &«".'  caused  by 
the  breaking  of  the  roots  which  had  been  holding  his  uncle  down. 
^A'hen  he  arrived  at  the  lodge  he  found  that  his  uncle  was  not  there. 
This  grieved  him  greatly,  for  he  felt  that  he  would  become  very 
wretched  and  2)Oor  without  the  aid  and  advice  of  his  uncle.  So  he 
began  to  weep  and  mourn  for  his  uncle,  but  at  last  he  ceased  to  do 
so.  He  then  entered  the  lodge  to  think  upon  his  situation,  and  finally 
came  out  to  see  whether  he  could  not  learn  whither  his  uncle  had 
gone  by  noting  the  tracks  he  had  left  on  the  ground.  For  this  pur- 
pose he  went  carefully  around  the  lodge,  examining  the  ground  as 
he  went.  At  last  he  found  his  uncle's  tracks,  which  showed  the  direc- 
tion he  had  taken,  for  they  had  made  very  deep  impressions  in  the 
ground  as  he  fled  in  haste.  From  the  tracks  he  learned  that  his 
luicle  had  taken  a  course  directly  westward.  The  young  nephew 
then  said :  "  So  be  it.  I  suppose  it  is  for  me  to  go  to  the  place 
whither  my  uncle  has  gone.  I  will  follow  the  ti-acks  of  my  uncle,  my 
mother's  brother." 

Thereupon  the  young  nephew,  having  gotten  his  bow  and  arrows, 
at  once  started  on  a  run  on  the  trail  of  his  uncle.  He  kept  the  trail' 
in  the  forests  for  three  days,  when  he  reached  the  shore  of  a  lake, 
and  there  indeed  the  trail  ended  so  far  as  the  nephew  could  see;  so 
he  .stopped  there  and  stood  looking  around;  thus  he  stciod  for  some 
time 

At  last  he  was  somewhat  startled  at  seeing  not  far  away  a  canoe,'*'^ 
which  wasbeing  paddled  toward  him  quite  swiftly,  and  which  con- 
tained what  appeared  to  him  to  be  a  man.  The  canoe  stopped  at 
some  distance  from  the  spot  where  the  young  nephew  was  standing. 
He  saw  that  a  number  of  wild  geese  supplied  the  propelling  power  for 
the  canoe,  six  wild  geese  Ijeing  attached  to  one  side  of  the  canoe  and 
six  to  the  other  side.  Then  he  overheard  the  man  who  was  in  the 
canoe  address  the  geese  with  these  words:  "!Mv  servants,  you  may 
now  go  forth  to  seek  something  to  eat."  The  wild  geese  at  once 
obeyed  and  flew  upward,  making  the  sound  sfilni^. 


CCRTI 
HEWITT 


^]  "  LEGENDS  707 


The  voiiiif;;  ih'])1h»\v  stiKul  there  silent  for  some  time.  Tlien  tlie 
man  in  the  canoe  said  to  him:  "Come  hither."  The  youth,  reply- 
ing, "So  let  it  be,"  went  to  the  ])lace  where  hiy  the  canoe,  in  whic;h 
stood  tlie  strange  man.  'J"he  stranger,  atldressing  the  youth,  said: 
"I  am  thankful  that  yon  aie  well.  Is  it  not  true  that  Oktcnndon 
is  your  uncled  He  is  my  uncle  also.  I  am  thankful,  too,  that  you 
and  I,  who  are  hrotheiN,  have  seen  each  other  at  this  time.  It  so 
happens  that  you  anil  I  resemble  each  other  and  are  of  the  same 
stature.  It  would  be  still  more  convincing  if  we  should  put  this 
to  proof  by  trial.  As  I  have  been  saying,  our  bows  aiul  arrows  are 
alike  and  are  of  the  same  length.  Let  us  test  my  statement  by  a 
trial."  'J'hereupon  the  man  took  his  bow  and  arrows  out  of  the 
canoe.  Held  up  together,  they  were  found  to  be  of  the  same  kiiul 
of  wood  and  of  the  same  shape;  their  arrows  were  of  the  same  kind 
of  wood  and  of  the  same  length. 

Then  the  stranger  said,  "C'ouie;  let  us  see.  M\'  have  the  same 
speed,  I  believe."  He  continued:  "Let  us  now  string  our  bows,  as 
I  am  now  stringing  mine;  let  us  stand  here  side  by  side."  While  the 
two  stood  side  by  side  again  the  stiaiiger  sjxjke.  saying:  "  This  we  do 
in  order  that  there  may  be  a  race  between  us  and  our  arrows.  Let 
us  shoot  our  arrows,  and  as  soon  as  we  let  ily  our  arrows  then  you 
and  I  nuist  start  to  run."  Then  they  let  ily  their  arrows,  at  the 
same  time  starting  to  run  swiftly.  They  ran  evenly,  keejjing  well 
together.  All  that  could  be  heard  was  the  sounds  made  by  the  ]3as- 
sage  through  the  air  of  small  .stones  |)icked  uj)  by  their  swiftly 
moving  feet,  for  they  were  running  at  a  rapid  \y.\vv.  Looking  up- 
ward, the  youlh  .saw  two  arrows  flying  along  together.  In  this  trial 
of  their  fleetness  of  foot  they  caught  the  arrows  before  they  fell  to 
the  ground.  e:ich  one  catching  his  own. 

After  this  test  the  .stiange  man  said  to  his  young  companion, 
"  Now,  let  us  return  to  the  place  wheiuv.  we  started."  So  they  went 
back  to  the  s]iot  where  tlie  canoe  lay.  Then  the  .strange  man  re- 
peated what  he  had  been  saying  ;igaiu  and  again:  "Have  I  not  been 
.saying  that  you  and  1  aie  indeed  brothers^  We  have  the  .same  fleet- 
ness of  foot ;  we  ai-e  of  the  same  stature:  our  bodies  are  alike  in  form 
and  condition:  our  l)ows  are  exactly  alike:  our  arrows  are  also  alike. 
These  things  indicate  that  truly  you  and  I  are  brothers  and  that  ()k- 
teondon  is  your  uncle,  as  he  is  my  uncle.  Come,  then,  let  us  go  hence. 
We  will  anuise  ourselves.  AVe  will  go  to  a  distant  place  where  I  am 
in  the  habit  of  |)laying." 

The  young  man  replied  unsuspectingly:  "So  let  it  be."  Where- 
upon the  strange  man  said  :  "  Come,  come  hither,  my  slaves,  you  wild 
geese.  Do  you  come  hithei-  at  once."  He  had  hardly  (!eased  sj^eaking 
when   the   wild   geese  alighted  beside  the  canoe  and  attached  them- 


708  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [kth.  ANN.  32 

selves  to  it.  Then  the  strange  man  again  got  aboard  of  the  canoe 
and  invited  his  friend,  the  young  man,  to  accompany  him.  When 
the  hitter  had  also  boarded  the  canoe  his  companion  said  to  the  wild 
geese :  "  Come,  now,  do  yon  go  to  the  place  where  the  island  floats 
in  the  water.  At  this  command  the  geese  began  paddling,  thus  pro- 
pelling the  canoe  very  swiftly  toward  the  place  designated.  Then 
the  strange  man  began  to  sing :  "  Now,  now,  now,  it  seems  true,  I 
have  started,  indeed."  This  song  he  kept  singing  as  the  canoe  sped 
along  toward  the  island  of  his  promised  sports. 

They  finally  arrived  at  the  island,  and  the  two  men  having  landed 
the  strange  man  said  to  the  wild  geese :  "  Come,  now,  my  servants,  go 
now  to  find  something  for  food  for  yourselves";  thereupon  they 
flew  away.  lie  continued :  "  AVhenever  I  say  to  you  '  Come  hither ' 
you  must  return  here  at  once.    But  it  must  be  I  who  shall  say  this." 

Drawing  the  canoe  up  on  the  shore  he  said  to  his  young  com- 
panion :  "  Now,  we  will  go  to  the  place  where  I  am  accustomed  to 
amuse  myself,"  and  they  two  started.  Having  arrived  at  the  spot, 
the  young  man  saw  lying  there  a  very  large  white  stone.  His  com- 
panion said:  "It  is,  indeed,  heie  that  I  have  my  playground;  and 
now  you  shall  see  what  I  will  do." 

Then  the  stranger  undressed,  making  himself  entirely  naked. 
Then  raising  the  great  white  rock  he  cast  it  into  the  water,  which  was 
very  deep.  Down  it  went  with  the  sound  huh',  huh',  bub\  bub'. 
The  strange  man  next  dived  into  the  lake  after  the  rock  and  remained 
under  water  for  a  long  time.  The  youthful  nephew  of  Okteondon 
was  watching  anxiously  what  his  strange  companion  was  doing. 
Finally,  the  youth  was  surprised  to  see  his  companion  come  to  the 
surface  of  the  water  bearing  the  great  white  rock  in  his  arms.  "When 
he  had  got  on  di-y  land  he  set  the  rock  down,  saying  to  the  young 
man :  "  Thus  now  you,  too,  must  do  as  I  have  shown  you."  The 
latter  replied:  "So  be  it.  I  will  try  at  once.  After  removing  all 
his  raiment  and  being  naked  he  took  up  the  great  white  rock  and 
going  to  the  edge  of  the  lake  he  cast  it  far  from  shore  into  the 
depths.  Again  the  rock  sank  with  the  sound  7jub',  buh'',  huh',  bub', 
as  in  the  first  instance,  and  the  V'oung  man  dived  after  it. 

As  soon  as  the  young  man  had  plunged  into  the  waters  of  the  lake 
the  strange  man,  taking  up  not  only  his  own  garments  but  also  all 
those  belonging  to  his  companion,  returned  to  the  point  where  the 
canoe  had  been  left.  Arriving  there,  he  called  out:  "Come,  now, 
my  servants.  Come  you  hither,"  and  shoving  the  canoe  into  the 
water  he  boarded  it.  The  v.ild  geese  soon  alighted  alongside  of 
the  canoe  and  attacliing  themselves  to  it  began  to  paddle  it  along. 
Their  master  merely  said  to  them,  "Go  directly  back  to  the  place 
whence  we  started,"  and  the  geese  obeyed  him,  causing  the  canoe  to 
move  swiftlv  thither. 


xT,;I^V'tJ  legends  709 

In  a  short  tiiiu-  tlu'iTufUT  ilie  yoimjj  nephew  of  Okteondon  rose 
to  the  surface  of  the  water  hringin<r  with  him.  as  did  the  straiiirei\ 
the  hirpe  white  rock,  which  he  cast  aside  as  he  came  out  of  the 
water.  He  found  no  one  around  and  he  saw  that  liis  pirments  were 
nii.ssino;,  so  he  ran  to  the  phice  where  lie  remembered  the  canoe  had 
been  beached.  When  lie  arrived  there  he  found  that  tlie  canoe,  pro- 
pelled by  the  swift  feet  nf  the  wild  <reese.  was  far  out  on  the  lake. 
As  he  reached  the  sliorc  lie  oxei-Iuiard  tlie  slran<re  mini  in  tlie  ivukh! 
sav  in  a  loud  voice:  "■ 'I'o  you  who  feed  on  llesh  and  wiio  dwell  in  the 
waters  of  the  lake  1  oHer  this  flesh  to  eat."  Thest^  tlc^li  eaters 
were  highly  pleased  with  the  idea  that  they  would  soon  have  more 
flesh  to  eat.  By  flesh  the  stranger  signified  the  flesh  of  the  young 
man  whom  he  had  enti-a])])ed  «n  the  island.  l"he  name  of  the  strange 
man  was  S'hagowenot'ha. 

'I'hen  the  youtliful  nephew  of  Okteondon  started  away,  going  from 
place  to  place  in  a  hojieless  etl'oit  to  lind  some  way  of  escajie.  AMieii 
he  found  that  he  h.id  been  xictimi/.cd  by  S'hagowenot'ha.  he  began 
to  cry.  and  he  went  about  laving  ;i.n(l  saying  to  himsidf.  "  Now  I 
know  that  I  am  about  to  die." 

In  his  wanderings  around  the  inland  he  found,  scattered  in  numer- 
ous i)laccs,  many  bones  of  human  beings  in  different  degrees  of  de- 
composition. Among  these  decaying  bones  he  was  surprised  to  find 
the  half-decayed  body  of  a  man  lying  on  the  ground,  and  he  was 
still  more  astonished  to  hear  this  lialf-d(>ad  man  say  to  him,"-  "'My 
.sister's  son,  Oh.  nephew  I  come  to  me."  The  youtli.  in  his  sur]irise. 
obeying  the  voice,  went  to  the  s])ot  wlicre  the  man  lay  stretched  out; 
there  lie  stopped  and  stood  waiting  the  pleasure  of  the  man  who 
had  addies-icd  him  as  "  my  sister's  son." 

Then  the  man  continued  to  address  him.  saying.  "Oh.  my  sister's 
son,  you  will  now  become  very  wi-etched,  for  .S'hagowenofha  has  now 
shut  you  in  on  this  island.  Take  new  courage  and  exert  yourself, 
for,  though  \du  may  not  know  it.  you  are  endowed  beyond  measure 
with  orenda.  ^'ou  must  now  jiut  it  forth  by  taking  courage  in  over- 
rome  the-c  deceptions  of  S'liagowenotMia.  Moreover,  you  must  take 
the  following  measures  for  this  purpose.  When  the  sun  is  near  set- 
ting you  must  run  to  and  fro  all  oxer  the  island,  from  one  eiul  to  the 
other.  You  must  cover  it  with  youi-  tracks.  ,\s  soon  as  it  becomes 
•night  and  darkness  is  here,  then  you  must  return  to  the  place  where 
the  canoe  was  beached  at  the  canoe  landing  of  S'hagowenot'ha.  When 
you  have  arrived  there  you  must  dig  a  trench  in  the  sand  sulliciently 
large  to  hold  your  body.  In  this  you  must  conceal  yourself  by  cover- 
ing yourself  with  sand,  but  you  must  leave  a  small  ajjcrture  for  your 
mouth.  Your  enemy,  of  course,  will  com(>  to  visit  you.  as  is  well 
known:  he  will  come  at  about  midnight.  Do  not  under  any  circum- 
stances become  im])atient  an<l  do  not  feai-  at  all.     He  will  briuir  with 


710  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  aisn.b2 

him  his  clogs,  and  as  soon  as  he  lands  he  will  urge  them  to  find  you 
by  saying,  Twu'd'',  twu'a!',  twu'a''.  They  will  then  begin  to  follow 
your  tracks  from  place  to  place,  smelling  and  sniffing  as  they  run. 
and  ever  at  their  heels  will  be  S'hagowenot'ha.  Just  as  soon  as  you 
know  by  the  faintness  of  the  sounds  of  these  pursuers  that  they  have 
gone  to  some  distant  part  of  the  island,  you  must  come  forth  from 
your  hiding  place. 

You  must  also  make  out  of  rough  bark  and  soft  wood  three  dolls 
or  figures  resembling  the  human  body.  When  you  have  cfimpleted 
these  j'ou  must  make  for  each  one  a  bow  and  arrows  suitable  for 
their  size.  ^ATien  you  have  finished  this  work  you  must  place  one 
of  these  figures  high  u]>  in  some  convenient  tree  crotch,  and  you 
must  fix  in  tiie  hands  of  the  figiu'e,  iu  the  attitude  of  shooting,  the 
bow  and  the  arrows.     This  you  must  do  with  the  three  figures. 

After  taking  breath,  for  he  was,  indeed,  very  weak,  the  man  who 
lay  there  a  mere  pile  of  bones  said :  "  Yonder  in  the  distance  imder 
that  prostrate  old  rotten  log  you  will  find  my  skin-pouch  of  fisher 
skin,  which  do  you  bring  me  at  once."  The  young  man  brought  the 
pouch  of  fisher  skin  to  his  uncle,  who  took  from  it  a  knife,  a  flint  for 
striking  fire,  and  a  piece  of  jnnik.  The  knife  he  gave  to  the  young 
man. 

At  once  the  young  man  began  to  fashion  the  three  dolls  wjiich  his 
uncle  had  advised  him  to  make.  He  made  also  the  three  bows  with 
arrows,  to  be  held  by  these  dolls  or  counterfeit  men,  which  he  had 
been  counseled  to  fix  in  the  crotches  of  trees  to  deceive  tlie  great 
man-eater  S'hagowenot'ha,  when  he  should  come  looking  for  the 
young  man  to  devour  him. 

When  the  youth  had  completed  this  task  he  began  to  run  over 
the  island  in  such  manner  as  to  mislead  the  enemy  and  his  dogs. 
The  elder  man  cheered  him  in  his  undertaking,  saying:  "Have 
courage,  my  nephew;  if  you  will  ]ierform  my  in.structions  with  care 
you  shall  live,  as  I  have  said."  The  young  man  replied:  "So  shall 
it  be  as  you  have  instructed  me." 

Then,  going  forth  with  the  three  dolls,  he  selected  for  each  one 
a  suitable  place  in  which  to  secure  the  doll,  choosing  invariably  a 
tree  standing  far  from  the  landing  place  of  the  enemy.  With  some 
difficulty  he  fastened  the  doll  in  a  fork  of  the  tree  in  such  manner 
that  from  the  ground  one  might  be  misled  into  thinking  that  a 
person  was  hiding  in  the  tree. 

^Mien  it  became  dark  he  started  for  the  spot  near  the  landing 
place  which  he  had  selected  for  his  own  hiding  place.  Having 
arrived  there  he  began  to  dig  a  trench  large. enough  to  hold  and 
fully  conceal  his  own  body,  and  in  time  he  had  quite  effectively  con- 
cealed himself  in  the  sand.  Wlien  night  came  he  lay  there  quite 
still,  awaiting  the  return  of  his  enemy,  S'hagowenot'ha.     He  lay  in 


CrUTIN, 
HUH  ITT 


]  LEGENDS  711 


such  a  way  that  Iiis  iiidiith  was  ii()t  I'litirely  covered  with  the  sand, 
so  he  was  able  to  breatlic  witliniit  iiiiirli  difliculty.  lie  thus  waited 
liatitMitiv  many  loiii:'  lioiirs,  knowiiiii;  from  liis  uncle's  counsel  tliat 
ho  had  to  contend  with  a  crafty  old  cannihal.  who  was  a  past  master 
in  deluding  his  victims  into  a  faNe  feeling  of  security,  the  more 
easily  to  destroy  them  at  his  ieisui-e. 

It  was  some  time  after  midnighl  wiien  tiie  alert  younir  man  heard 
))eculiar  sounds  a|i|ii-oa<-hing  the  ishiml.  lie  was  not  long  in  recog- 
nizing tiie  \oices  of  I  lie  wild  geese  that  had  i)ro])elled  tiie  canoe  which 
had  left  him  a  prisoner  on  tlH>  island.  lie  heard  also  the  then  distant 
yelps  of  impatience  of  tiie  dogs  as  they  hungrih'  anticipated  a  bloody 
meal  when  they  should  reach  the  island.  They  were  eager  to  pursue 
their  prey,  for  they  well  knew  the  hal)its  of  their  master.  Finally 
the  attentive  ears  of  the  young  man  heard  the  sounds  which  told 
him  of  the  landing  of  his  jjuivuers;  and  it  was  not  long  befoie  he 
heard  S'hagowenofha  saying  to  his  dogs:  "  Go  you  to  find  the  per.son 
of  the  man.  Jt  may  he  thai  he  lies  now  somewhere  a  heap  of  bones." 
Then  after  releasing  the  dogs  the  old  man  shouted,  rfua'',  rfu(7'. 
rfiiir',''^  signifying.  "(lO,  go,  go  ye"'  (usually  applied  only  to  dogs, 
nnich  like  the  familiar  "  sickVm  "  in  iMiglish). 

'With  their  keen  noses  the  dogs  soon  took  uji  the  tangled  trail  of 
the  young  man,  ami  followed  it  from  place  to  [dace  over  the  entire 
island.  S'hagowenot'ha  was  overheard  by  the  j^oung  man  to  say  to 
the  wild  geese:  "My  servants,  tlo  you  now  go  to  seek  for  your  food." 
at  which  command  they  Hew  away.  Thereupon  Sdiagowenofha  fol- 
lowed his  dogs  in  the  direction  they  had  taken.  Just  then  he  heard 
in  the  distance  the  barking  of  the  dogs.  llV/«,  waa,  w.o/,  as  they 
seemed  to  say.  When  the  old  man  arrived  near  the  place  where  the 
dogs  were  barking,  he  heard  one  (d'  them  hurst  out.  crying.  A'ir<'/i\ 
Jiirf/V,  /ru'ciV.  Having  arrived  there,  he  found  one  of  the  dogs  lying 
dead  from  the  effects  of  an  ai'row  which  had  fallen  down  its  throat. 
Sdiagowenof ha  was  giie\ed  to  lose  one  of  his  dogs,  which  he  highly 
valued,  and  he  exclaimed:  "Oh  I  it  is  discouraging.  It  would  seem 
that  his  body  is,  indeed,  in  a  measure  possessed  of  orenda."  In  a  short 
time  he  again  heard  in  the  di-taufc  the  balking  of  his  dogs,  and  he 
at  once  started  on  the  run  toward  the  place.  On  drawing  near  the 
place  he  again  heartl  one  of  the  dogs  utter  loud  cries.  Kwcn\  kivrfi', 
kwen^.  Once  more  he  found  oiu'  of  his  dogs  lying  there,  also  with  an 
arrow  protruding  out  of  its  mouth,  into  which  it  had  fallen  from  the 
second  doll  in  the  tree.  .\.gain  the  old  man  loudly  exclaimed.  "Oh! 
discouraging,  discouraging,  is  this.  He  is.  I  think,  somewhat  of  a 
sorcerer."  By  that  time  the  last  dog  was  heard  barking  in  the  dis- 
tance and  the  ohl  man  started  on  the  iiin  for  the  place.  As  he  neared 
the  spot,  he  h(>ard  the  last  dog  crying  /\'trrn\  /<'?«c/7',  /,-we>l'.  'I'here- 
iipon  fear  came  over  the  old  cannibal.  \vho  exclaimed:  "Now-  I  shall 


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

flee  from  this  place,  for  he  has  now  killed  them  all,  my  dogs.  He  is 
indeed  a  great  sorcerer."  At  once  S'hagowenot'ha  ran  toward  the 
canoe  landing,  which  was  some  distance  away. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  .young  man,  who  was  on  the  alert,  saw  his 
opportunity,  and  arising  from  his  place  of  concealment  in  the  sand, 
he  went  to  the  shore  of  the  lake.  Pushing  the  canoe  into  the  water, 
he  called  loudly, '"  Do  you  come  hither,  my  servants,  you  wild  geese." 
The  geese  with  the  somid  dauiV  all  came  to  the  side  of  the  canoe  and 
at  once  attached  themselves  to  it.  Then  the  young  man,  boarding 
the  canoe,  said  to  the  wild  geese,  his  servants:  "Let  us  go  back  to 
the  place  whence  we  started,  and  you  start  at  this  time."  Obeying 
his  conunand,  the  wild  geese  at  once  began  to  paddle  and  the  canoe 
moved  swiftly  in  the  water,  the  paddling  of  the  wild  geese  sound- 
ing ««',  sw',  sw',  ««'. 

When  S'hagowenot'ha  reached  the  shore  and  found  the  canoe  mov- 
ing away  with  the  young  man  in  it,  as  its  master,  he  called  out  to 
him :  "  Oh,  my  brother !  Turn  back  hither.  I  had  come  back  here 
after  you,  be  it  known  to  you."  To  this  appeal  the  young  man  paid 
no  attention,  for  he  had  been  thoroughly  informed  (if  the  character 
of  his  enemy  by  his  uncle.  So  he  kept  on  his  way.  He  tauntingly 
said,  for  the  benefit  of  his  enemy,  to  the  monstei's  of  the  deep :  "  I 
devote  food  to  all  of  you  who  live  on  meat — to  you  who  live  in  the 
depths  of  the  lake."  Hearing  this,  these  watery  monsters  rejoiced 
and  were  haiajiy,  for  they  d&<ired  meat,  on  which  they  fed.  In  their 
glee  they  uttered  the  sounds,  H'txf,  h/sf,  /i/sf,  hist,  hai,  kai,  hai. 
Then  S'hagowenot'ha  again  called  to  the  young  man:  "Oh,  my 
brother!  have  mercy  on  me;  take  pity  on  me  and  turn  back.  Is  it 
not  possible  for  you  to  agree  to  turn  back  and  come  to  me?  I  am 
indeed  not  S'hagowenot'ha;  I  am  only  a  servant  to  him.  He,  of 
course,  is  at  his  home." 

The  young  man,  however,  did  not  answer  this  appeal  of  his  great 
enemy,  but  said  to  the  wild  geese  which  were  propelling  his  canoe: 
"  Go  directly  to  the  place  whence  you  started."  The  young  man 
and  his  geese  arrived  at  the  landing  place,  at  their  home,  just  as 
day  was  dawning.  After  landing,  he  said  to  the  wild  geese:  "My 
servants,  j'ou  may  now  go  to  seek  for  your  food."  Thereupon  they 
Hew  away  with  the  soimd  dauiV.  He  had  already  said  to  the  geese: 
"  Hurry  back  as  soon  as  I  recall  you."  Drawing  the  canoe  ashore, 
he  departed.  Climl)ing  the  steep  liank  and  going  asifle  a  slioi't  dis- 
tance, he  came  to  a  lodge,  which  he  entered.  Within  he  found  a  very 
yoimg  woman.  As  he  entered  the  lodge,  without  his  garments,  the 
woman  arose,  and  going  forward,  embraced  him,  saying:  "You  are 
indeed  in  a  wretched  situation  here.  I  am  your  younger  sister,  for 
■\erily  your  uncle  is  one  who  is  called  Okteondon."  The  young 
ujan  answered  her: 


CL- 
UE 


'^J,'.;'.;.]  LEGENDS  713 


liniRul :  "  He  is,  too,  my  iiiu-li',  tliis  OUteoiulon  is;  for  this  reason  you 
and  I  are  brother  and  sister,  ^'ery  long  ago  he  stole  mc  from  our 
lodge.  Now  dress  yourself  again:  your  garments  hang  yonder 
wiiere  he  hung  them  when  he  brought  them  Ijack."  So  the  young 
man  dre,-ised  himself  again  in  his  own  garments.  Then  his  sister 
said:  "'Here  are  your  bow  and  your  arrows."'  The  young  man  took 
them,  for  they  indeed  belonged  to  him. 

Thei-eupon  ihr  young  woman  said  to  Iier  hnitlier :  "  You  and  I  must 
now  ii'turn  liome.  I  \\\\\  lay  down  bark  in  .strips,  and  on  these  you 
must  step  to  conceal  your  tracks  until  you  reach  the  canoe;  for  you 
and  I  shall  surely  die  if  my  husband  should  meet  us  before  we  reach 
the  canoe.  They  carried  out  faitii fully  this  precautionary  device  for 
concealing  the  brother's  footprints.  When  they  reached  the  .shore 
the  brother  pushed  the  canoe  into  the  water  and  then  called  out  to 
the  wild  geese:  "Come  hither,  my  servants."  AVhen  they  arrived 
he  continued:  "You  mu.st  go  directly  to  the  place  where  my  racing 
ground  is."  Having  said  this,  the  brother  and  sister  boarded  the 
canoe,  and  the  wild  gee.se  began  to  pro]iel  it  ra])idly  through  the 
water,  making  the  sounds  su\  sw',  su',  sit'  as  they  propelled  it. 
Then  the  young  man  began  to  sing  his  song  of  triumph :  "  Now,  now, 
now,  I  am  certain  that  I  am  on  my  way  homeward."  Turning  to  the 
wild  geese  he  said  :  "  Have  courage  "'■' ;  be  brave  and  do  your  duty,  my 
servants." 

After  going  some  distance  it  seemed  to  the  two  that  the  canoe  kept 
the  same  jiosition,  although  the  wild  geese  were  jiaddling  with  great 
vigor,  making  the  sounds  su\  su\  m'l',  .su'.  Turning  her  head,  the 
young  woman  saw  a  fishhook  attached  to  the  end  of  the  canoe,  and 
she  saw  also  that  her  husl)and,  who  sat  on  the  ojiposite  shore,  was 
steailily  i)uniiig  on  the  line,  causing  the  canoe  to  move  backward 
toward  him.  Taking  up  a  stone  hatchet  from  the  i)ottom  of  the  canoe 
she  .struck  the  hook  a  blow  which  broke  it.  \t  this  the  canoe  again 
shot  forwai-d  very  swiftly,  and  they  went  a  long  distance,  while  the 
young  man  kept  saying:  "Have  couiage,  my  servants.  Exert  your- 
selves to  the  best  of  your  power." 

Hut  in  a  very  short  time  thereafter  they  again  noticed  that  tlie 
canoe  was  seemingly  going  l)ackwar(l,  although  the  wild  geese  were 
still  i)addling  with  all  their  migiif.  Turning  her  head  and  looking 
I)ack  across  the  lake  the  sister  saw  her  husband  lying  prone  on  the 
shore,  rapidly  drinking  u\)  tlic  water  of  the  lake,  and  the  canoe  was 
now  moving  swiftly  toward  him.  His  mouth  was  enormous  and  his 
belly  was  likewise  of  incredible  capacity.  His  whole  body  had 
swollen  to  huge  proportions,  owing  to  the  floods  of  water  he  was 
drinking.  The  canoe  and  its  occupants  were  fast  being  drawn  into 
his  open  mouth,  altho\igh  the  geese  were  paddling  with  all  their 
might. 


714  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [etii.  an.\.  32 

When  they  drew  quite  near  to  the  jjoint  where  S'hagowenot'ha  was 
lying  the  young  man,  stringing  his  bow,  made  ready  to  shoot  at  the 
great,  swollen  body  lying  on  the  shore,  which  was  indeed  stupendous 
in  size.  When  within  bowshot  the  young  man.  takhig  good  aim,  sent 
an  arrow  with  great  force  into  the  body,  which  caused  it  to  give  out  a 
loud  sound,  &-?/'•/  as  the  waters  burst  forth  through  the  wound.  The 
outrush  of  the  waters  sent  the  canoe  flying  Inick  toward  the  shore 
whither  it  was  bound.  Then  the  young  man  vehemently  urged  the 
wild  geese  to  exert  themselves  in  paddling  the  canoe  onward,  and 
finally  he  arrived  with  his  sister  at  the  place  whither  they  were 
bound — at  the  racing  place  of  S'hagowenot'ha. 

\A^hen  they  arrived  there  he  said :  "  Now,  you  wild  gceese  shall 
be  free  henceforth.  S'hagowenot'ha  has  made  you  liis  .slaves  and 
servants — an  act  which  was  indeed,  as  you  know,  a  great  wrong. 
Now  you  are  again  free  and  independent.  It  was  not  the  intention 
of  S'hongwadiennu'kda'on,  our  Creator,  that  anyone  should  l)e  a  slave 
or  a  servant.*"*  As  is  well  known,  it  was  his  intention  that  every  one 
and  everything  among  the  animals  and  the  bii'ds  and  the  fowl  should 
be  in  all  tilings  independent  and  free.  He  did  not  will  thiit  anyone 
should  hold  any  being  in  bondage,  even  among  the  animal  kingdom. 
Now  you  must  depart  hence  and  go  your  ways.  It  shall  continue  to 
be  your  custom  in  advancing  across  the  earth  to  go  to  and  fro  in 
the  form  of  a  wedge.  Thus  you  shall  be  seen  by  those  who  shall  be 
born  hereafter  howsoever  long  the  earth  may  continue  its  existence. 
This  is  all.  So  now  depart,  and  when  you  go  you  must  follow  one 
another."'    Thereupon  the  wild  geese  started  away  in  freedom. 

Then,  turning  to  his  sister,  the  brother  said :  "  Now,  let  us  depart 
hence."  Started  on  their  way,  they  went  along  slowly  as  they  two 
traveled  homeward.  When  night  overtook  them  they  would  encamp ; 
and  in  the  morning  after  breaking  their  fast  they  would  resume  the 
journey.  They  camped  for  five  nights  before  they  i-eached  their 
home.  They  were  unmolested  on  their  journey  by  the  sorcerers, 
who  commonly  infested  the  way  on  such  occasions. 

When  they  had  reached  their  home  the  young  man  said  to  his 
sister:  "Oh,  my  sister!  I  do  not  know  you,  because,  perhaps,  I  was 
so  small  when  you  went  away.  AVe  have  now  arrived  at  our  home. 
I  know  now  that  Okteondon  is  your  and  my  uncle.  AVhen  I  started 
awa}'  from  this  place  I  followed  the  tracks  of  our  uncle  until  they 
led  me  to  the  lake.  I  verily  believe  that  he  was  killed  by  the  man 
with  the  great  mouth.  Now  you  and  I  must  love  and  respect  one 
another,  as  we  are  brother  and  sister.  I  shall  greatly  respect  you,  and 
you  yourself  must  greatly  respect  me.  Now  I,  myself,  will  go  to  hunt, 
and  you  shall  keep  the  camp."  The  brother  proved  himself  a  great 
hunter,  and  they  had  an  abundance  of  meat  for  food  in  their  camp. 

This  is  the  length  of  the  story. 


^^:^^  LEGENDS  715 

18G.  S'uagowe'xoi-'iia',  tiik  Si'ikit  ok  the  Tides 
No"        o'ne"'clji'  liodi'no"'sot        luv'     yachuliwa'dC"'         no" 

That       ancient  tinu^vi-ry  Ihoir  (an.)-lodg6-stan<ls      iho         thoy-lwo-iinclc  (ami),  the 

(it  is)  '        nephew 

gano"'sa'oii'wc'.     No'  'gwu.     diiut'goii  h!iyas"n6°'    no"    liago"'dji', 

il-lodge,  large-(was).  That-yet  (But)        always,  (ever)  he  (an. )-Iay-su-       the      he  (an. )-aiicient- 

pino  one  (was), 

no"     dihii'wa'      no"  ho'      ga'it      gaoudas'dcfi'     okdo'ofido"'     ne" 

that  il-re;i.'ioii         there  (in  that    it  (n.)-trcc-       it  (n.)-lree-Iarge-  il  (n.)-root-ha'i-         the 

(»'a.s)  place)  .sland.s  (was)  several 

haya'da"go',     no"  na'o'         da'a'ou'  wou'do'"  aat'ko"'. 

hl-S-(an.)-l)Oily-on,         that  Iruly-fverily)      not  it-alile  (be)        ever  (sometime)  coiiM  he  arise. 

No"ho''s'hon        do'hni"dy()"',        o'yonis'ho't.  DyCilgwri's'lion 

There-only  (alone)  two-they  (inasc.)  it-long-timc^was.  Suddenly-jiist 

abode. 

no"     liagt'"'dji'    no"  haofiwa'di;"',  woo'fha'has  wai'on',    "Ilofi'wo' 

the      he  (an.)-ancient     the  hi.s-nepliew  he-hiin-t;ilked  to        heitsaid         "Yonder  (over 

one  (was)  there) 

ho"so       hcon'we'       tgaya'sa'oniiyo"'.     No"li()'     iia'e'     o"'syen'fh()' 

thither-         there-whcre  thcre-il-one-tiered-maiiy  There  truly        wilt-thou-it-plant 

thou-go  (logs)  lias. 

no"kho'         onon'o"',       no"       onyo°"sa'-kho'. 

the  it  (neut.)  hean,      that-and  (that-too)      it  (runl.)  corn,        the  it-.siniash-and. 

Oka"()'"  ne"ho',      ga'nyo'         C'wadofi'nl'       o"\vatchi's'a'-kho'. 

It  savory,  do-  indeed  (in  (ifit-nilcs)  will  it  grow  (will  it-  will  it  itself  ripen    and. 

licious  (is)  fact),  itself  make) 

Da'       no"      c"'hnik,     no"      6"'ni'nlio"g<)'onk     ga'nyo'      gowa'no"' 

So  thai         will  thou-  that  will  thoii-I-il  use  ever  if(  =  it-it  much  (great 

(there)       (it  is)  I-ii  eiil.  t.i>  live  rules)  amount) 

6°'sy6nt"hwaku'."       No"       wai'on'     no"       hago'"dji'. 

thou  will  it  harvest  (  =  un-  That  he-it-said         the  he-old-ono 

plant)."  (it  was)  (-ancieut  one). 

hage^'dji',        "Da' 

Not-it-Iong-tiniD-(\vas)  now  (then)  he-it  said  the         lie  (an.)  anfient-one  ''So 

(was),  (there) 

o'ne"'       ho'se'f^o'     liofi'we*       *;iiiia"kta'<:^ou,     iie''lio'     ga'ye'*'     ne*' 

now  theuce  do  thoii-      (overthoro)         it  (/j.)-hed-under,  there  il-Iies  the 

(then)  it-fotch.  yonder 

ga.'iis"hii',     ne"ho*       igii"     na'o'     no"     ganen'gwc"'       gaya'so"'/' 

it  (n.)  ba.sket.  there  it  js-con-        tnily  the  it  (k.)  seed-grain  one-it-hus 

tained  named.'* 

Da'     o'ne"'     ne*'     haksa''gowa    waa'go'      ni»"    gc^'S'sa'     no"ho' 

Po  now  the  he  fqnj-v'inlh  thence-lic-il       the       it  (n.)  basket  there 

(there)       (then)  (  =  Rreat  child)  did  felih 

waa'yeii'     lu'on'wi^'     haytls"he"'     no"     lia^r^Mji*.   . 

did  he-it  lay  there-where  he  (nn.)  lay  Itie  lie  inn,)  ancient 

supine  one  (.was). 

Da'     o'no'"    no"    hagS'-'dji'    wai't^n',      "ITau"",    no"    ga'Ss'hii' 

So  now  the        lie  (an.)  ancient-     he-it-sai<i  "Goto,  Ihe  il  («■) 

(There)      (then)  one  (was)  "Come  basket 

ho'se'go'       gana"kta'gon       niwa's"a,     \vas"hen*      ni'yon.  Dc° 

thence-do-thon-       it  (n.)  couch-under  so  it-size-  (it-hand-full)         so-it-many  Wilt 

it  fetch  small  (is),  ten  (are). 

sat'wa'lia'     no"       gri'ils'iia'.       Dewagadoondjon'ni'." 

thoii-'<6'f-il-  the  it  (n.)  basket.  I-it-in-nood-oI-stand." 

gird  with 


716 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 


[ETII.  ANX.  32 


Da'      ne"ho'       naa'ye'      ne"     haksa"gowa.      O'ne"'     hao'-ha"' 

the  ho  (aTi.)  youth  Now  he(an.)alon6, 

(then)  bin 


So         thus  (there)       thus  he-it  did 
(There) 


ho  (an.)  youth 
(—great  child). 


ne"      hage^'dji'      ne"ho'      ga'a,s'ha'gon       he'  ni'yoii 


the 


he  (art. )  ancient 
one  (isj 


there 


it  (n.)  basket-in 


thus       so  many  it  num- 
(where)  bers 


liniself 

ne' 

the 


onen'o"'.     Gagwe'go""     he'         ni'yoii  waon'da';        gagwe'go"' 


so  many  it  num- 
bers. 


did  he-it-put 


ne"ho'       naa'ye'     ne 

thus  so  he-it  did         that 

(there) 


3  / 


was ''hen' 

it  (n.)  h'.ind- 
Iul=ten 


ni  yon' 


ne 


so  many  it  num-      the 
bers 


it  (n.)  entire  (is) 

ga'8.s''ha' ; 

it  (n.)  basket; 


o'sae"da'-klao'    ne"ho'     waon'da',    gagwe'go"'      waady6nno'k'de°'. 

it  (re.)  bean-and  there  there  he-it-  it  («.)  entire  did-hehis-task  complete. 


there  he-it- 
piit  in, 

O'ng"'     wai'eu'      ne"      hage"'dji', 

Now  he-it-said  the         he  («".)  ancient 

(then)  one  (wasj, 

tgaya'sa'o"',       ne"ho' 

there-one-cleirings  there 

has  made, 

Da'     o'ne°'      saa'den'di'." 

So  now  thou  (do)  start." 

(then) 

ne"        haksa'govva      wai'en', 

the  he  (an.)  youth  (=         he-it  said, 

great  child) 


heon'we 

there-where 


There, 

O'ne'"' 


"Hau"',     o'ne°'       ne"ho' 

"  Go  to,  now  there 

"  Come,  (then) 

e°'cyen't'ho'        gagwe'go"'. 

wilt  thou-it  plant  it  (n.)  entire 

(is). 


Now 
(then) 


"NJ'O" 
"So  be  it. 


Ne" 

That 


perhaps 

ni'yon 

so  many  it 
numbers 

Da' 

So 
There 


ne"ho' 

there 

ge°s' 

customa- 
rily 

o'ng°' 

now  (then) 


e°gege'on'        heonwe' 

^'"  \  T  it  nilp  there-where 

shall/  ^  "  P"* 

desadoendjon'nl'." 

thou-it-in  need  of,  standest 


ne"       syas"h6°', 

that        Ihoulving-supine 
(art), 


gwa' 

still, 
yet,  too, 

he' 

thus 


'on' 


ne''         haksa'gowa         wao'sai'e' 

the  he  {an.)  youth  (=great  did  he-hasten, 

child) 


Ne'ho' 

There 


waaksai'eii'    ga'sne"'    ne"    gak'sfi'       onon'dii'      iga",       gadjisdon- 

did-he-it-dish  it  (n.)  the  it  (n.)  dish      it  (n.)  hominy       it-con-  iti(n.)  fire 

lay  bark  (bowl),  tained  (is), 

ia's'hii'-kho',     gagan'ia's'ha'-kho',      oa'kwa'-'kho'      gagaisde^'do"'. 

poker-and,  it  (n.)-knile-and,  it  (n.)  bread-and  it(n.)-eorn-hulled-by- 

boiling. 


Ga'nio'     waadiennu"kde'''      o'ne°'  na'e'     wai'en', 

As  soon  as       did  he-his  task  complete        now  then  truly  he-it  said 

o'n6°'      e°gi6iit"hwa'sa'      he'oiiwe'.  tgaya"sao"'." 

shall  I-it-(to)  plant  go  there-where 


"Gno"se°, 


Da' 


"Oh,  uncle. 

"Oh,  mother's 

brot  her, 

o'ne^* 


now 
then 


there  it-one-clearings 
hiis  made." 


b-o  now 

(then)       (then) 


waa'dSn'di'. 

did-he  (an.)  start. 

Wa'ha'io'''     he'onwe'      tgaya^sao"',     o'n^°'.     na'e'     wooio"de°'. 

There  he  arrived       there-where        there  one-it-made- 

clearmgs, 

waae'dawcn'ie'-kho'. 


Waaeo'do'go', 

Did  he-it-weeds- 
remove, 


did  he-it-eartb-stir  up-and. 


now 
(.then) 

truly           did-he-it-work. 

Da' 

o'ne°'           na'e' 

So 
(then) 

now                   truly 
(then) 

HEW  ITT  J 


LEGEWDS 


717 


waayGn't'hd'     to'ka"!!'     ni'    <ian8,'g6"s"hage. 

diJ  lie-it-|)laut  niiml>i'riiiK         so  it  (».)-hill3-number. 


few,  few        muny 

o'n6"'     hot'hou'dc'       da'hadi'nno'di' 


now 

(then) 

gou'wa' 

■in 


tie-it -lioard 

liotiiNii'wi, 

he-it-tells, 


thence  lie  his  soiig- 
ulteleil 

lia'do"'-, 

he-it-says, 
rei)eate(liy 


lie' 

the 


Da'     diCfigwas'iiou 

ali  at  once, 
.suddenly 

Gaffina- 

It  (7i.)  sonK- 


So 
(then) 


hono'"se'". 

he-ldra-nncle. 


(mother's  brother),   (is) 

'O'ng"',      o'ne"',      ( 

"NoY'  now 

(then)  (then) 


now  I-it 

(then)      think 


no' 

the 


o'gat'kC"',     o'lifi"'     wai';." 


did  I-myself- 
ruise  up, 


0'n6"'      wai" 

Now  cerlainly. 

(then)        (ofcour.se) 

WilMjiTr       o'ng" 

(Wluit^smull) 
In  a  short 

0'n6->' 

Now 
(Ihon) 


now 
(then) 

the 


cer- 
lainly.' 


luiksil'TO'wa       san'd^fiMi'       waaditlno'ad. 


now 
short  tiiuo  (Ihen) 


he  (an.)  child- 
greal  (is) 

lU"' 

the 


nRain-he- 
returned 


rt^ain-he-deparled, 
(  =  weat  home) 

hc'onwc' 

thpre- 
where 


did-he-his-paee- 
ha-sien. 

t'ho(lin()'''-s()t. 

Ihere-they  (an.)-it 
lodge.s  stands. 


nc 

the 


h!lksa''g()\va      wooye'na' 

did  he-him- 
seizo 


he  (an. )  child- 
great  (is) 


ne 

the 


hono"sC"'      wai'^fi' 


kli..' 

and 


"Aiiri'awSn" 

"What  il  happenecl 


liakn.."s6"'?' 


h  e-nip- uncle  f  =  mother 's 
brother;  (is)?" 


he-hlm-uncle 

(=^  mother's 
brother)  (is). 

Daai'wa'sii'ko' 

Tlience  he-it  replied 


did  he-il 

say. 

no'' 

the 


m*i;o"'(iji' 

-ancient- 
3ne  (is) 

O'ng"' 


he-ancient 
one  (is) 


Now 
(then) 


wai  on 

did  he-il- 
say, 

ne"     haksa"irowa 

the 


O'kha'dal/'hi''"'    n(>" 

that 


Did  my  throat  be- 
conie  dry 


o'gadfnno'dc"'.' 

did  I  sonc-uller.  sinfi," 


oi"wa' 

it  f  I!)  rea- 
son (is) 

O'ne"'      ho'ire'go 


he  («»,)-child- 
great  (is) 


did  he-il - 
say, 


"Now 
(then) 


thence  I-it  (h.) 
(etch 


nf 

the 


o'ne'ganos. 

it  (n.)  water. 

Ga'nio' 

.\s  soon  as 
(=it-il-ruJes) 

saady&s"h§n'. 

again  he-self-laid 
supine. 

hau"     o'n6"' 

Come 


Hau" 

Come, 


now 
(Ihen) 


o'n6" 

now 
(Ihen 

waa'ni''giha 

he-ll-licp 
drink 

O'ng" 


snt-'giha." 

Ihou-il  (n.)- 
ll<iuid  drink  (do)." 


did  he-ll-li(iuid 
drink 


no 

the 


hagg-'dji' 

he-ancicnt- 
one  (i^) 


Now 
(then) 


no 

the 


now 
(then) 


h!lksa."gowa     wai'fn'. 

he<'hild-great  (is)         <iid  he-it 
say, 

de"sadye'6"k-siion     6"'syas"hendrrk." 

shall-you  quiel-jusl  keep 


o'ng"'        wai" 

certainly 
(of  course 

Gno"s6ii 


dOW 

(then) 


'My  uncle.  "Oh, 
iny  uncle. 


shall  vou-sU])ine  keep- 
■  lying." 


0'n6°' 

Now 
(then) 

honsa'st^' 

thither  a^'ain 
go ihou 


ne" 

the 

he 'on  WO 


hage"'dji- 

he(an.)ancient 
one  (is) 


'Giwa'dg"' 


'Oh,  my 
nephew, 


there 
where 


wai't^fi". 

did  be-il 
say, 

tj^aya"sao"'      iie'^ho'      na'e' 

there  one-it  (n  )■  there  truly 

I'leariugs-made 


there 
(where) 

6'"sy(^n'fho' 

shall  Ihou-it-plant 


ne" 

the 


onen  o"  . 

it  (7i.)-corn. 


gano"sg<)n  wa' 

it  (n.)  lodge-in 


de'sga'yfi"',       gagwo'go"' 


o  ga  It     wai 

did-it-  cer- 

spill  out       lainly; 


TC'  '6" 

Not 
(it  is) 

gagwe'go"'     d6°tc'liok.     Da'     dja'go"' 


at  all      again  li- 
lies (is), 


it  (n.)all  (=it- 
(n  )  entire) 


Ga'nio' 

As  soon  OS 
(it-it-rulcs) 


ne' 

the 


it  (n-)-all  (-it 
(7(.)  entire) 

haksil '  'gowa 

he  inn.)  child- 
great  (is) 


shall  thou  it- 
gather  up. 

gagwe'go' 

It  (n.)-all  (-it 
(n.)  entire 


diq'." 

So  do  thou  (be)        moreover." 

(Ihen)     brave=huiTj'  up 

"*    saas''a't     saasno^'kwens 

aenin  he-it-     again  he-it-gathered  up 
unished 


718 


SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


ne'        oaa  ge'       o  ga  it 

the  it  (n.)  path-  did-it- 

on  spill  out 


tchis'hadak'ho'       nc'       ongn'o"' 

the  it-(u.)  com 


as  again  he  ran 
(homeward) 


[eth.  ANN.  32 

Da' 

SO 

(then) 


again 


saayent/ho''sa'. 

again  he-it  toplant 
went. 


Very  again  now 

(once  more)     (then) 


will  he-it  rora- 
plete  (finish) 


would  he-it- 
plant 


now 
(then) 

Agwas'     a'e'     o'ne"'     t'ho'ha'     heno'^"a*t      aayenf'ho' 

nearly 
(close  by) 

daadenno'de"'       ne" 

he-it-hears  thence  he-his  song  the 

(=is  hearing)  uttered 

''0'ne°',     o'ne^S     o'n^'^'     gi''      o'gat'ke"'. 

"Now  now  now  I  did  I-self-raise 

(then),  (then),  (then)        think  (  =  1  arose). 


o  ne" 


now 
(then) 


hot*hon'de' 


agam 


liono"se^S  hado°". 

he-him-uncle 
of  (is), 

O'ne"'     wai"." 


he  kept 
saying, 


Now 
(then) 


certainly.' 
indeed. 


Da'    o'ne°'     ne"     haksa"gowa     o'ne°^ 

So  now  the  he  {an.)  child-  now 

(Then)        (then)  great  (is)  (then) 


wai 

cer- 
tainly 


ha"donsae"*'dat 

thence  again  he  ran 


he'onwe'     t'hodino'^'saga'io"' 

there 
(where) 

DyengW{i's"hon       o'ne"*     ha'dewasen'no"     ne"ho' 

Suddenly,  all  at  once. 


there  their  (masc.)  lodge 
old  (is)  (ancient). 


now 
(then) 


just  it-half  way,  mid- 
dle-(was) 


there 
(where) 


o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 


wai" 

truly 
indeed 


hot'hon'de'     wa'ot'kae' 

he-it-hears  did-it-make  a 

sound,  noise 


otkae''ni 

it  makes  sound 
ioud 


wa'hadak'he' 

thither  he 

WL'l 

"ba"," 


thither  he  running 
went 


'bi",' 


diioi'wa'      o'dwadekte'nya'k 

there  it-it  did-it(n.)  root  break 

caused 

hono''s6°. 

he-him-uncle. 
(his) 


ne"     he"onwe'       hayas''he°' 

that       there  (where)  he  (an.)  lay 

supine 


ne  ' 

that 


ne' 

the 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


honsaa'yo"'      he'onwe'      t'hodino'"- 


truiy 


now  (then) 


'sot     te-^'e"'    de's'Le^'dyo"' 

stood  not  at  all  again  he  abides 

(at  home) 


there  asain  he- 
did  arrived 

noono"se°, 

t  he-his-un?le 
(mother's  brother), 


there  (where) 

o'ne^*        de'sgatga"ho^ 


there  il-them- 
lodge. 


n:)W 
(then) 


not  at  all  again  any- 
where. 


O'ne^ 


Now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


haksa"gowii 


o  ne 


,n< 


he  (an. )-child- 
great  (is) 


now 
(then) 


did  he-it- 
think 


now 
(then) 


wao  'se°s; 

did  it-him- 
grieve; 

non'      e"wagidens't'he't,      awendon'nya't-kho'      o'ne°'      o'wa'do"" 

prob-        will-it-me  to  be  poor-cause,  it-it-lonely  has  made    and  now  it  became 

ably  (then) 

de'sgatgil"ho'     noono"se°'. 


ne 


diioi'wa'     ne"     o'ne°' 


there  it-it 
caused 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

o'yo'nis'he't. 

It-it-to  last  caused. 


o  ne"' 

now 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


of  course 


at  all  again  anywhere     the-he-him  uncle 
(mother's  brother). 

waas'daen'         ho'nigo"ahet'ge"'s-kho' 

he  (an.)  wept  it-him-mind-grieves  and 


Da'     o'ne°'     na'e'    waenni"he'''     he"     hasda''ha' 


So 
(then) 


now 

(there) 


verily       did  he-it-cease 


where       he  was  weeping 


ho'nigo°;ihet'ge"'s-klio' 

it-him-mind-grieves-and. 


gano"sakda'die's.       O'ne"'        honsaa'yo"' 


it  (n.)  lodge  beside  (hero 
and  there). 


Now 
(then) 


thither  again  he 
entered 


(  I  KTIN."| 
HKWn  tJ 


LEGENDS 


719 


<faii()''s!l'}i;<)i'i    \vaenno"(!ori'iiy()"'-kho'       ho'' 

t(n.)lodge-In  did  hi'  tliink  roiM-aledly-iirid  whert- 

o'nP"'    dondaaya'<^o"'t     \vri6"q     gat<^at''ho' 


nionakdo'tlg"'.       Da' 


.sucli-his-.situa(  ion-kind 
of  (was). 


So 
(I  here) 


now 
(then) 

'no  A 

nils  gone 


thenco  he  en  mo  forth 


did  I1.--II- 
tliink 


let  me  look 


ka'we'     non'     heawe- 

whilhor       probably     thither  ho 


IKIOIIO    SO" 

the  he-him- 
unclo  (is). 


O'lu'"'      iia'C      o't'hadawgii'nye'     gami"sak(la'- 

it  {n.)— lodge  be- 


Ki)W 
(tlioii) 


iia'6' 

verily 


ilicl  he-self-movo  from 
place  to  place 


liokdon'dye'      adeyefmon'ni"fi;o',      he"he' 

he-it-looked-  a  way  carofiii-in,  he-ii-thought 

closely  along 

ne"ho'      hayanaSn'nyti"'     no''     li()n()"so"'. 

there  he-track-iippeired-siic-  the       ho-hiin  uncle  (is), 

(where)  cessively 

DyofifO^'a's'hon       o'no'"        waa'jio"' 

Suddenly  all  at  oneo  nowflhi-n)        .li'l-hc-il-see 


dye' 

side 
(around) 


adr  <^va      non 

possibly        probably 


ne 

that 


no' 

the 


heodakhe'non, 

thither  ho  running-has 
gone, 

heodakhe'non.       Da'     o'n6"' 


ho  onwo" 

there  (where) 


niyo'cyos'to"     ho'onwt;' 

there  (where)       thither  he  running-has    So  (then)       now 
gone.  (then) 


such  it-it -deep-has 
gone  (his  tracks) 


\vaa'g6"' 

did  hc-it-seo 

O'nf"' 

Now  (then) 


o'n6"' 

now  then 


nc 


t hither-it  (n.)  Sunsets  to- 
wards 


hega!i'gw6"'s'si\va 

t hither-it  (n. 
war 

■'    haksa"<i:owa     wai'("n' 

the    he  (un.)-chiki-great  (is)    did-he-lt- 
say, 

nc"lii)'      o'no"'      hgfl'ge'      n6n'     i"il' 

there  now  then      thither  will-    this  one     I  (mv- 

(where)  I  go  sell) 

hakno"s6"'.      K"eyan5n'aiin'     na'e' 

he-ine-uncle.  Will-I-him-track  take        verily 


heodakhe'non     no6no"s6"'. 

thither  he  running-        the-he-him-uncle. 
has  gone. 


"Ni'yo". 

"  So  be  it. 

ho'ofiwe' 

there  (where) 


Ne" 

That 


gwa 

just 


Du' 

So 
(then) 

Cn'no"' 

bow 


(I  ne" 

now 
(then) 


Will-I-him-track  take 
along 


0  no" 

now  (then) 


no" 

,he 


heawe'non 

thither  he-has- 
gone 

hakno"se"'. 

he-me-uncle  (is).' 


iwrhaps 

no-' 

the 


ne 

the 


hak.sa"go\\a      o'lu"' 


he  (an.)  child-  now 

great  (is)  (tlicn) 

gfi'no"'-kho',    da'      o'no'" 

it  (n.)  arrow-and,  so  now 

(then)         (then) 


wTi'ha'go' 

difl-he-lt  get 


ne 

the 


ho'- 

his- 


woovanoii  aun 

did-he-liiiii-track  take 
along 


ne''     hono' 

the     he-him-uncle 


SO"';       (la     o  no" 

(mother's       so       now 
brother);    (then)  (then) 


waa'dr-fi'dr 

did  he  depart 


o't'lu"''"-'(lat, 

did  he-run, 


Ga'had&gon's'hofi'     lia(hikho''s'hon 

It  in.)  forest-in-only  he  running  only  goes 


o'n(5"'  wooyanen'aun'. 

now  did-hc-him-lrack  lake 

(then)  along. 

nil'o'da'  o'no"'    ne"ho' 


wau  'y  o" '     ga  11  y  t )( 1  a  'c ' , 

<lid  he  arrive      it  (n.)  lake-stootl 
out 

ne''ho'     \vooe""lio't 


iie"ho' 

there 
(where) 


nil  O' 
indeed 


hree       so  ni:iny  il- 
iiight-passed 

ho'  'hodya'no'k 

I  hcre-his-trail  ended 


now  there 

(then)  (where) 

noono"s(^°', 

the  hc-hlm-uncic, 


Hiero 
(where) 


(lid  he  stop 


o't'hatgri'do"'-klio' 

did  he  took  around  and. 


Da'     o'nf""' 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


o't'ha'da't 

did  he  Stand  still 


j^uiiyudakMri'. 

it  (n.)  lake  beside. 

Da'  ne'ho'*-s'hon' 

So  thero         just, 

(t  hen)    (where)-     only 


hada  die  s 

he   stood    in 
diHerent  places 


(lyout;\vri"s'hofi         waa'*:t' 


■in» 


suddenly  just,  all  at 
once 


did  he-il-scfl 


720 


SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND   MYTHS  Ieth.  a.nn.  32 


we'S"' 

far  away 


dagagawe" 


there  it  (n.)- 
paddled 


ga'hon'wa,' 

it  (n.)  canoe 


o'stoa'die'. 


dosge°'hi1.gwa 

nearby-towards 


dyengwa" 

suddenly 


SI 

lo! 


ne 

that 


it  (71.)  swift 
went. 

ne' 

the 


Ne" 

That 


on  gwe 

human 
being 


o'ng°' 

now 
(then) 

da'no""- 

hither-he- 


dak'he', 

aboard-was 
coming, 


SI 
lol 


niyo  we 

so  it  distant 
(is) 


ne"ho' 

there 
(where) 


daa'dl'he't. 

there  did-he-stop. 


O'ng""     ne"     haksa"gowa  waatgat'iio'     waa'ge'''-klio'       ne"ho' 


Now 
then 


the 


ga'hoiiwakda'die' 

it  (n.)  canoe  beside  along 


he  (an.)-child- 
great  (is) 

ne"ho' 

there 
(where) 


did  he  look 


did-he-see-and 


there 
(where) 


ne" 

the 


hongak' 

goose  ( 


wadiya'dam'yont, 

they  (/.)  bodjf-attached, 
gender- 


ne  ■ 

that 


ne' 

the 


ho'gwa 

other  side 

O'ng-" 

Now 

(then) 

wai'e"', 

did-he-it 

say, 

Da'     o'n6"' 

So         now  then 
then 

0'n6°' 

Now 
(then) 

die6°"s'hon. 

remained  quiet- 
only. 


ye  1 

six 

ye'i'-kho' 

six-and 

ne" 

the 


niwan'nandl 

so  they  in.)  num- 
many         ber 


ne' 

the 


hongak' 


ne  ' 

the 


niwan'nandi     wadiya'dani'yont. 


so  they  («.)  nura- 
many  ber 


they  (/.)  body  attached, 
gender- 


"0'n6°' 

'Now  (then) 


ne" 

the 


haksa"gowa       hot'hou'de' 

he  (an.)  child-  he-it-hears 

great  (is) 

na'e'     S^swadekhwi'sak'ha' 

indeed  will  you-self-food-to  seek  go 

hongak'     wa'dwadi'd6°',     ' 

did  they  (n.)  fly  up, 


ne" 

the 


sgaga'di, 

one-it  side, 


hon'gwe' 

he  (an.)  hu- 
man being 


ages'hen6°"s'ho°'." 

my-servants-severally." 


ne" 

the 


haksa"eowa 


0'n6°' 

Now 
(then) 


he  {an.)  child- 
great  (is) 

ne' 

the 


ne'ho"s'hon 

there  (where)  just 


'Stum'" 

"Stum"' 

I'yad'- 

he-stood 


g5.'hon'wagoii      M"non' 

it  (n.)  canoe-in  he  (a7i.)-was 


"Gadji",    dediad5"'nonda'."      O'ne- 


'Do  thou 
come  hither, 

"Hau", 

"Come, 

he/on  we' 

there  where 


thou-I-brothers  (are).' 


nio    . 

so  be  it." 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


tgil'hofiwa'ie"', 


ne 

the 

Is' 

thou 


h^ii'crwe' 


he  (an. )-hii- 
man  being 


war 

of 
course 


there  it  (n.)  canoe 
w'.is  lying, 


wai  en, 

did  h&-it- 
say, 


Now 
(then) 

diq' 

more- 
over 

ne"ho' 

there 


ne''     haksa"gowa 

the  he  (an.)  child- 

great  (is) 

waa"den(ir      ne"ho' 


o'gi'. 

it  (7!.) 

sounded. 

t'hio- 

just-he- 

wai'g"' : 

did-he-it 
say: 

wai'Sn', 

did  he-it-say. 


did  he-start 


there 
where 


it'had'      non'trwe'. 


there-he- 
was  in 


the  he-human 
being. 


thither-did- 
he-go 

0'n6°' 

Now(then) 


'Nia'\ve°,      askeu'no"' 


'"May  it  hap- 
pen 


it  (Ti.)-peacerul 
(and  in  health)  is 


lano    se 

he-the  uncle 
(isj 

Da'      nia'we 

so  may-il-hap- 

(then)  pen 


ne" 

the 


Okte'ondo"'. 

Okteondon. 


I" 

I 


n< 


diq' 

more- 
over 


I" 

We 


hakiio"se"'. 

he-nie-uncle 

(mother's  brother) 

(is) 

o'didiadade'ge"'.     Do'g6"s-kho''    iie"ho 

It-true-and  (is) 


did-thou-I-self-see  (see 
one  the  other). 


as  a  matter 
of  fact 


t'hi'son'he'. 

so-thou-livest. 

hae"gwa' 

also,  at  ihe 
same  time 

dediad6°non'de'       o'ne°' 

both-thou-I-brothers  now 

(are)  (then) 

dedjidiadie'e°' ;     ne"kho^ 

both-thou-I-self-re-  that-and 

semble; 


CDRTIN.1 


LEGENDS 


721 


ne"      s'hu'dedineii'ies.    Si'       iiihaTr 

the 


c<iuul-bot  h-f  hou-I-stat- 
ure-loug  (is). 


Bp- 
liold, 


is  it  not 
belter 


(li:i(lena"''<^oiid,      ne"' 

(let)-thou-I-it-test,  that 


niwak'nigo''o"den.      Da'      ne" 

such-my-niiiid-kind  of  (is).  So  that 


So 
(then) 


verilv, 
truly, 


ne 

the 


d(')'g6°s     no" 

(it  is)  true,      that 
cen-.iin 


ne 

the 


ne 

the 


tcika'to" 

lis-T-il-have- 
kopt-snyiiig 

ne"kho' 

lh:it-iinil 


uc"klio' 

that-:iu<l 


nc 

llie 


ne 

that 


ne"'       ne"       onf;iri'a"'no'''       s'ha'de'io'diiu 

the  ilial  tliy-niy-bow(s)  :iliki>-both-it  (n.)- 

in-forui  (are) 

out;iil"n()"'      s'hil'de'io'dan     ne"kli()' 

thy-my-:irrow(s)        alike-both-it  (n.)-iii-  that-and 


alike-both-it  (n.)-iii- 
forul  (are) 


s'ha'de'iofis     si'     ni'ha'il 

lo. 


equaI-t)oth-it  (».)■ 
in  letitiih  (are) 


so-i'^-it-not 
better." 


Dii'     o'Dg"'     non'gwe'      W!iada"o;o' 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


the  human 
being  (  =  nian) 


did-he-it-take 
out 


ne 

the 


ga'hufi'wagon 


ra'ht: 

it  (n.)  canoe- in 


nc 

tlie 


ne" 

lllO 


wa'ao'iio""'     gt\"no"'-kh()'. 

it  (n.)bow  it  (n.)  arrow-and.    • 


Da'       o'ni?"'       diq'      o'tiaafmongiin'is; 


So 
(tlien) 


now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


did-thou-I-bow(s)-com- 
pare  (l>rinK  toy^etlier) 


siiri'ili''i()'iliii"i 

aiike-i)()th-it  (n,)-in 
form  (arc) 

ga'srM"miri"dI' 

one-it-iiiake-use<l 


ga''no"'-klur 

it  (n.)  arrow-and 


s'lia'de'io'diin, 

alike-both-it  (7i.)-in- 
iorin  (are). 


agwils' 

very 


ne" 

the 


na"ot. 

such  kind 
of  tiling'. 


s'ha'ga'drr 

just-one-(tliev 

are)  (one  and 

the  same) 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

"Ilau", 

"Come, 

ne''li()'." 

as  a  matter  of 
tact.'' 


now 

(then) 


ne"     oia"djr 

the  elsewhere 


t'h: 


"di" 


thcncp  ho  has 
come 


noil  t^wc 

the  human- 
being 


wai'C"' 

did-he-it-say 


o'ne"'       diadena""ge:id        i'wi 


now 
(tlien) 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

de"gio"gwaga  'd  at . 

will-I-it-bond-bow. 

d('"dvvei'i'(i"'dad 

will  we  (pi. )  run 
(a  nice) 

lini"'vak.     Ganio" 


let  thou-1-it-attempt 

ti'.st 


Ihiuk 


s'ha'dcdiiano'we'kho' 

c<iuaI-both-thy-my-pace 
swift  (Ls)and 


o'ne"' 

now  (then) 


wai  en  , 

did-he-it-sav, 


Dediio"g\v;ig;i'dat ; 

'■  Let  thou-I-it-bend: 


Ilau",      gfi'dji' 


do  to. 

Come, 


hither  do 
thou  come 


nc'kho' 

here 


ne' 

the 


()ngni'n()""s'ho"'. 

both  our  arrow-several. 


d(HlI'dil't,     ne" 

doth  let-thou-I-      that 
stand 

Ilau",      o'ne"'- 


i"kho' 

1-and 

ne" 

the 


en- 
will 


thou-I-it 
shoot. 

0'n6"' 

Now 

(then) 


As  soon 
as 


vorily, 
truly, 


e"(li(lirit'krr, 

will-thou-I-il-let 
loose, 

wani"yrik 

thoy  two  (m.)- 
it  shot 


Go  to,  now 

Come,  (Ihen) 

dii'    o'norr     (le"(lie"''dii(l      o'ne"'. 

so  now  hoih-will-thou-I-  now 

(then)  run  (ihim). 

o'diP""Ma(l. 

did  Ihey 
two  (m.)run. 


o'nr'"*-s'h(>n'klio' 

jiisl-iiud 


now 
then 


Ne" 

That 


ne' 


agwils'     s'ha'degada'die';     ne"     we'gen     ne"       ot'ka' 


the  very  even-both-it-llew  along         that 

ne"     ga'skwa"s'h()"'a    dfiodidefi's'lion    he' 

they  (ii.)-flyiiig  (are)-    where 
just" 

dak'he'. 

ran  along. 

O'nC"'     ne"       liaksi  "gowa       he"tke"- 

the  he  (an.)  child-  above 

great  (is)  upward 

46 


?simply 


the 


it  (n.)-souuds 

ne"      dci- 


that  it  (n.)-stone-several- 

small 


Now 
(then) 

94615°— 1(>- 


so-it-swift  is 


tlie 


both 
they 


waatgat'"ho'      waa'gp"' 

did  he  look  did  he-it-se« 


722 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 


I  Hin. 


no"ho'     degi'dio' 

there  two  they 

(n.  an.) 


lie''   lmi'iio"''sii()"'a    s'ha'degada'die'.       Ne"ho' 

the  both-thcir-arrows-  even-both-it-flew  along.  There 

several 


he"tke°'    o't'himi°'hon'nia'k     hni'no''"s'ho°'a  agwas'    s'lia'dia'-we"'. 

alike-they-two  (n.)- 
happeiied. 

liaksft''g()wa, 

ht?  (u/i.j-child-great, 


above 
on  high 

O'ne"' 

Now 
(then) 

"Hau", 

"Come, 


did-both-they  (/7j.i-it- 
caught  (on  the  fly) 


both-t  heir-arrow- 
several 


ne' 

the 


human 
being 


wai'en', 

did  he-it- 
say 


a' 'get." 


now  (then) 


honwa'ie"'. 

canoe  lies. 

Da'    o'lie" 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


let  us  two  turn 
back." 


on  gwe' 

hiinian 
being 

I"     nae- 

We         verily, 
truly, 


did-he-him- 
tell 

Onsani'io"^ 

Thero-agdiu-bolh- 
they  returned 


very 

ne" 

the 


he'onwe' 

there  where 


ne"       tchjga'do" 

that  while-I-keep- 

saying. 

we';       s'ha'dediia'do''de°'-kho 

alike  both-thy-my-body-and; 
shape  {is) 

a'no°"s'ho'''      s'ha'deio''dau 

bow-several 


ha'do"'     ne''ho' 

he  kept  there 

saying 

dediade^noii'de' 

both  thoii-I-broth- 
ers-(are) 


I'e's: 

he  walked 
around: 


tka'- 

there 
it  (n.)- 


^'Da' 


(then) 

S'ha'dediiano'- 

Equally  both-I-swift 


of  foot  (are) 


s'ha'dedinen'ies-kho' : 

alike  both  thy-my-height  and 
lo'ng  (is; 


thy-my- 


alike-both-it  (n.)- 
inform  (are), 


ongia'no°'s'ho°'-kho' 

they-my-arrow-several-and 


s'ha'deio"daii. 

alike-both-it  (7i.)-in- 
(orm  (are). 


Da'     ne''     wai"' 

So  thut  of 

(then)  course 

Is'      yano''se'' 

Thou        lie-t  hy-unc!e 
(is) 

Hau",    o'ne"' 

Come,  now 

(then) 


gaj^enue  1 

it-it -kninvs 
(shows) 


ne  ' 

that 


d6'ge°s     I'     dedyadii°non'de'. 

true  (it  is) 


we 
(two) 


both  thou  and  1  brothers 
(are;. 


ne"      Okteou'do"',      I'-kho'       hagno'se".      Da'. 

the  Okteondon,  I-and  he-my-uncle  (is).  So 

(then). 

eMya'den'di'    'lio'gvva     he°ilyatga'nie'.       Hon'we' 

wiU-both-tliou-I-  aside  there  will  Ihou-I  There  (where) 

start  (go)  yonder  amuse  ourselves . 


lie''''ne' 

hence  wiU 
thou-I-go 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

hot'hiu'wi 

he-it-telling  (is) 


ne"lio' 

there 

o'ne" 


ni''a'      gatganie''fha'.' 

I  alone  l-seU-arause-use-(it).' 


now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


haksa"gowa 

he  (an.)  child- 
great  (Is) 


de'a'dokha' 

not-he-it-conipre- 
hcnds 


ne" 

the 


wai'g"', 

did-he-it- 

say, 


'Nio". 

"So  belt.' 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


ne" 

that 


na"ot 

kind  of 
thing 


the-hiiraan 
being 


■wai'e°', 

did-he-it-say 


ga  snr 

'  Come,  nt»w  hither  come 

(then)  ye 

s'lio^'S,'.      Ga'o'     nonda'sue." 

erally  (are).  Hither     again-hither-come  ye." 

Ganio'  waadwenno'kde"'    o'ne°' 

As  soon  as  did-he-his-word  end       now  then 


hon'gak      nene" '     ages'hene"'  '- 

wild  geese       t  be  which         It-my -slaves  sev- 


ne 

the 


•'     hon'irak     ne"ho'     o'ne"' 


wild  geese  there       now  (then) 

o'lhvenni'dyon'da't   gaonwa^kda'die-kho'      o'wenna"dia'daniiou'de°' 


did  they  (n.)  alight 

o'ne"'       dicj'      ne' 


Now 
(then) 

more- 
over 

ie''ho' 

-klio' 

there— and 

U  (n.)-canoe-sid6-along-and  did-they  (n. )-own-budy-ath.x  (to  it). 

ofi'gwe'      saade'no"'da      ne"        gaon'wakon 

the  human  being        again-he-self-em-  the  it  (n.)-canoe-in 


again-he-self -em- 
barked 


a'e'    waade'iK)°'da   ne'' 

again  did-he-self-  the 


haksa  s:6wa.      O'ne"' 


he  (an.)-child- 
great  (is). 


Now 
(then) 


ne' 

the 


<  TKTIN.] 

iiKwrnJ 

on'gwe' 

human  belnj? 

h()"s\ve' 

hence  yo-go 

Now 
ithvu) 

ho-'     tgawc'not. 

there     ihert'-il-i  n.)-lsl:ind- 
pr<»irii(les. 


LKGENDS 

12. 

woo'wi 

no'-  liofi's^ak, 

"Hau" 

o'lu"'" 

no'lio 

ilid-he-tht'm- 

[\w           wiltl  KPt'Sfi, 

"Come, 

now 

(then) 

I  here 

waicu 

ilid-he-il- 
say 

he'ofivve.'     tfjawe'iiot. " 

I  here  where        lliere  It  fn.)  island 
(isj  p.'olriides." 

ne'    lion'giik    o'wadl'gawe' 

Iho         wild  geese         diil-lhey-ii-paddlc 


ji  (u.)-swift 
wenl  aloDK 


lie     IK)' 
there 


UiKh.T- 
l>oIh  they  go 


Da'. 

So 
(then), 


o'ne'" 

now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


waadCurio'de"' 

did-he-his-song  utter 


ne" 

the 


on  gwe', 

111)  man  l>elng, 


"O'ne"',    o'lie"',      o'ne"*       ;^i' 


now 
(then) 


it 
siM'nis 


lie'niiowe'        waiii'io' 


there-so-it-dls- 
tunt  (is) 


"  N'dW  n<)W 

(thtMi),  (then) 

h()(lr*fiiu)daMie' 

he-own-sijiif*  uitering 
went  along 

hati^anies't'hS.'. 

he-self-(lo)  anuise  uses. 

O'ne"'      na'e* 

Now  verily, 

(then)  truly. 

o'ne"'  diq'    \vayacle'no"'(lri*'f:^o' 

tiid-ihev-' wo  (!isemb;irk. 


ne" 

the 


ihere-did-ihey- 
Iwo  arrive' 


o'ga'tlL'n'di.  " 

did-l-sel(-start." 

lie'onwc' 

I  here  where 


ha'do-'k, 

ho-it-savind 
kepi 

Ne"s'hon 

That-only 

liotiiiu'wi 

h^-it-tellinK-kept 


lio'gl'io"' 

Ihcro-diil-tliey 
(n.)  arrive 


lie    lio' 

t  here, 


lio  Wil  dr  lie  I 

there-did-ihey  (n.)- 
slop 


gwa    -lio' 

also,  ton. 


])a ' 

.So 
(then) 


now         mort^ 
(then)         over 

ofi'gwo'      wai'efi', 

huntun  being     did-he-it-say, 

swadckhwi'  'sakhil,'. 

lyou-self-food-seek-go. " 


Ulll 


])a'     o'lie' 


So         now  (them      more- 
(then)  o\'er 


■llau' 

"Come, 

0'n6"- 

Now  (then) 


wai'cfi', 

did-ht*-it-say. 


;awe'not.    O'nf"'     ne'' 

thiTc  where        it  (n.)  island-  Now  tin- 

lirujects.  (then) 

o'lii'"'     agesiiene""s'ho"',    hon'gak, 

now  (then)  my-slavo  (-s= several  wild  geese, 

o'wennade"go'     o'tgondlde"'. 

did-Ihey  (n.)-(lee  (dis-         did  they  (n.i  llv. 
perse) 

'Ganio'    i""gi  ',      Ga'o'      nonda'swe', 

■•Whenever      will-I-it-         Hither  hither-ai,'iiin-(do) 


diq' 

more- 
over 


will-I-it- 
sa\ , 


I  VlTilv 

(Inily) 


no  ' 

that 


0"gl  '. 

ivill-i-it-s;iy. 


no'kho' 

there 


(""djiswa'yo"'. 

with  you  (/'/,)  arrive. 


o  lie" 


Da' 

So         now  (then) 
(then) 


ilitl' 

more- 
over 


wtiailv'on'flio' 

did-he-it-dr;iw 


no" 

the 


ganiatlals'da'    w6o'e""he't. 

it  {11}  lake-beside  did-it-it-stop. 


Da' 


(then) 

'O'ne'"       diq'      ne''ho'       lie'dnc 


one"' 

tiow  (then) 


ne" 

the 


gaOll  Wil 

it  (n, (-canoe 


hnin:in  being 


ye  come, 


lie     111) 
t  here 

wai'Cn', 

did-he-i'- 
say, 


Now  (then) 

O'n?"' 

Now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


thither-thoti- 
1-go  (let) 


there  where 


gatga'nic'l'liii'. 

I-sel[-(to)-!iinuse-use.' 


Wiiayaiion'di". 

did-t  hey-1  wo-depart . 


Da'aoiiis'he'on'     o'nt'"'     no' 'ho' 

N'ot-il  (n.)-lasted  long       now  (then)        there 


wrml'io"'. 

Da' 

wo''    haks 

(Ihere)-did-thcy- 
two-arrive 

So 
then 

the  he(rtn.)-chil 

724 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  an.\.  32 


'gowa     iie"ho' 

great  (is)  there 


waa'ge"' 

did-he-it-see 


iia"  (la 

this  (so) 


ganenyaga"'ent 

t  (n.)-stone-white  (Is) 


ne"ho', 

there 


iga'ye"'. 

it  (n.)  lay. 


nun 

perhaps 

Da' 


ni  wa 

so-it  (n.)- 
large  (is) 


ne" 

the 


ka"skwa' 

it  (71.)  stone 


ne"ho 

there 

(then) 

"Ni'gg"'     ne'kho'      gatganie't'ha'. 

"But  (so  it  is)  here  I-self-it-to-amuse-use. 


ne" 

the 


human  being 


O'lie"' 


diq' 

Now  (then)      more- 
over 


wai  en 

did-he-it- 
say 

cle^se- 

both-wUl- 


ga'ne'k 

thy-pye{s)- 
on  (it)   be 

Da' 

So 
(then) 


he"     ne"gye'a'     ha'djigwas'." 

how       so-wilM-it-do  siiortly." 

(there) 


now 

(then) 


wai' 

truly 
verily 


nostofi'ni'.     0'ne°' 

naked  make.  Now 

(then) 


waaga''tclii' 

did-he 
ui 

frwa''lio 


did-he  («n.)-it- 
undo 


ne" 

there 


ho'ciofi'ni, 


o"t'h<ak     ne" 

next  in  did  he-it-  the 

order  take  up 

ganenyaga"'ent      ne"ho'     wao'di'     one'g&'ge' 

it  (7?. )  stone-while-(is)  there  1  hither-he-       it  (n.)  water-on 

it-cast 


he-self-dressed- 
(has), 

ga"skwa' 

it  (7i.)  stone 

gwa"ho', 


next  in 
order 


Now-       and 
(then) 


onoMes,    "bub',  bub',    bub',    bub',    o"ge'''.      0'ne°'-kho' 

it(n.)depth-       "bub',  bub',  bul)',         bub',  did-it-it- 

long  (is),  say. 

waadya'do''yak  waa"do'     o'yo'nis'he't. 

did-he-his-own-body  did-he-self-  did-it  (re.)-last 

cast  loug  time. 

Da'      ne"      howa"wa"'de°'      ne"       Okte'ondo"' 


waade  - 

did  he- 
self- 

ne'ne" 

that 
which 


very 

ne'ho' 

there 


the 


he-his-nephew 


ne 

the 


Okteondnn 


lie ''ho' 

there 


de- 

both 


such  so  il-it-has- 
dune 


So 
(then) 

aganc"s'hou,     he''iii6die'e'"  ne"       oii'gwe'.     Da'    dyen'gwa' 

the  human  So  suddenly 

being.  (then) 

saa"dogo'     ne"     dcya'di     ne'kho'     nioyeoii'die'      ne" 

again-ho-self-  the  both  they  to-  here  so-he-it-has-done         the 

rfis-immerses  gether  (are)  commg  back 

Ganio"s'hon    saade'sko'go'  o'ne°'    ho'gwa    wao'di'  ne"   ga"sk-wa' 

As-soon-as-ju3t 


his  eyes  on  it  (is)- 
severally 


ga"skwa'. 

it  (n.)-stone. 


O'ne"'     ne" 

Now  the 

(then) 

ne"'cye'." 

so-wilt-thou- 
il-do." 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

O'ne"' 


now 
(then) 


again-he 

oii'gwe' 

human 
being 

diq' 

more- 
over 


now 
(then) 


wai  en  , 

did-he-it- 
say, 


aside 
yonder 

'Ne"ho' 

"There 


there-he-it- 
threw 


o  ne" 


now 
(then) 


the 

nis' 

the- 
thou 


it  (n.)-ston6. 

ne"ho' 

thus 
(there) 


ne' 

the 


htiksa"g6wa     wai'6n', 


he((7?j.)-child 
great  (is) 


did-he-it- 
say. 


"Hau  " 

"Come, 


Now 
(then) 

ho'cyon'ni, 

he-it-self-dressed- 
has 

ga"skwa' 

it(n.)  stone 


e"gade'ny6n'de°'."       O'ng 

will-I-sell-it-attempt." 


now 
(then) 


na  e 

verily, 
truly. 


agwas 

very 


waade'noston'nf, 

did-he-self -naked  make. 


waaga"tchi' 

did-he-it-undo 

o't'hak-'kho' 

did-he-it       -and 
tuj;e  up 


nyo' 

so  let  it  be 

ne' 

the 


ne' 

the 


ne"      ganetiyaga°'6nt       ne"ho' 

the  ■    it  (n.)  stone-white  (is)  there 


far 


o'negi\"ge' 

it  (n.)-water-on 


CIIBTIN.I 

iiBwriiJ 


LEGENDS 


725 


wao'di',      o'n6"''      diq'    ne"ho'-kh<)'      liae"<fwS,     waa"do', 


<liil-h(>-it-  now 

tlirow,  (Ilu'n) 


over 


thcTO 


too      lilSO. 


dya'do"y!ik     o'negjl"gc\     O'nS'" 

it  (n.)  water-on. 


own-bod  y- 
lancetl 


Now 
(llioii) 


more- 
over 


the 


di(l-he-(liv»*, 


<;a   sKwa 

il(n.)  stone 


bub',      bub',      bub',"      so"go"'. 


bnty. 


bub'," 


agnin-it-it- 
did  say. 


Ganj^o"s'lu)ri     \sa:i"'do' 

As-soon-:is-just 


tiid-lip-self- 

ininuTse 

(dive) 


no 

the 


haksil'  'sfowa     o  'lie'' 


ho  (oH.)-child- 
greal  (is) 


now 
then 


verily, 
truly, 


waa- 

did-he- 


t)Ul)', 

•bub', 


lie 

Iho 


hofi'gwo 

he(uH.)  hu- 
man being 

ho 'we"', 

he-it-owns, 


he  OIIWO 

there 
■where 


o't'hak       lie'' 

did-he-it-  the 

t.kke  up 

wa"ha'     no"     gagwe'go". 

the 


lOCVOIUiyus   'tlJl 
his-raitnoni 


the 


did-he-it 
lake  away 

tka'honwa'yc"'. 

there-it  (n.)  c:inoc-lics. 


it  (n.)  enfire 
(all). 

Da' 

So 
(then) 


hak.sS,'  'gowa 

he  (an.)  child 
great  (is) 

Ne"ho'-kho'     a'e'      hofisa'e' 

There        -and  ag.iin       Itiither-a^'ain- 

he-^oos 


o'ue"'    hae"gwa   \V!la°'n()''k  wai'ffi 

did  he-it-cdl 


now  also 

(then) 

s'ho"'  ga'o'     nonda'swe'.' 

severally  hither 


atiain  hither-<lo- 
do-you-come. " 

gfihou'wa'      o'hiu'g!l"ge' 

it  (n.)  canoe  it  (n.)  water-on 

diq'      wai'^ii'      "O'lu-"' 


more-         did-he-il- 
over  siy 


'"Now 
(then) 


liUi-be-it- 
Kiy, 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

wa"ho' 

there-he-it 
(7i.)-uut  in- 
to (liquid) 

ne"h()' 

there 


now 
(then) 

•Ilau' 

"t'nnie. 


o  lie ' 

now 
(then) 


iie''ho' 

1  hero 

o'ne"' 


now 
(then) 


wa'ha'yo"?' 

did-he  ian.)- 
arrive 

agos'heiig""- 

my.slave(s)- 


o't'ha'dja'e"'       ne" 

did-he-it-piLsh  the 


waado"iio""(la-klio'.       ()'n6°' 

<lid-he-self-init-into  (it)-and.  Now 

(then) 


h()nsaswado'ge"nt 

thithor-ajiain-(doj-you-go 


ho'()fi\v(5' 


there 
whore 


diyougwa'defi'dyon.    ue''  ages'heiie""s'ho"'     nc"    iic" 

thence-we  (incl.)started-have,       the  my-slav6(s)-soverally            that        the 

Da'     o'lif'     o'wadl'gfiwo'  nc"     hongak     o'sno'iidie'. 

did-they-paddle  the             wild                it  (n.)  swift-went 


liofi'gak.'' 

wild  geese." 


."so  now 

(then)    (then) 


lie' 

the 


the 

baksa'trowa 


wIM 
gee.se 


Da'     no"-kb()' 

So  that-and  the  he  (an.)  child  great 

(then)  (is) 

howa°wa'"de"'      saa"d5'go'       haa'wi' 


along. 

uc'iie' 

thal-the 


Oktr-'ofido"' 

Okteoiuloii 


his  nephew 


U|;:iill  he-St'lf 
C4imu  up 


he-it-c.irrifMl 


nc''        ga"skwa'      no"no*' 

the  it  (rt.)  -stone  tli;it-Ihi' 


ganSnySga"'ent-gowane" 

it  (n.)-stonc-\vhitt-  large 

(rock  J 

saade'sgo'go'. 

agiiin-he-sclf. 


nc" 

that 


ho'gwa-kho'  wao'di'  o'no"'-kho* 


aside- yoiuier- 
and 


did-he-it- 
throw 


now  (then) 
uud 


I'nC"' 

na'e' 

deotka'tofi'nio"' 

<le'gatga''h()'       ne"       ofi'gwe' 

Now 
(then) 

verily 

both  he-his-eyes-austs 
around  successively 

not-anywhere-              the               human 
ai-all                                            being 

'kho' 

ne-' 

dc'gatga"ho'     ne'' 

b()'cii)fiiiiris"ha'.     Da'     o'nC" 

and 

the 

not  anvwhere            the 
atall 

hi.s-rainient   (his                     So             now 
garments).                     (then)         (thcB) 

726 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS.    AND    MYTHS 


I  l-l'll.  AXN.  32 


diq'     ne"lio'     vvaadak'he      hc'oiiwe'     lie' 

more  there  thither-he-run-  there  where        that 

over  ning-goes 

Da'     o'ue"'     ne"ho'     waa'yo" 

So  now  there  did-he- 

(there)      (then)  arrive 

waodigawca'die'       ne"       hon'gfik 

thilher-lhey-it-paddling-  the  wild  geese 

go-along 

ha'no"'dak''lie'     ne"     oii'gwc. 

he  (an.)-aboard- 
goes 

Ganio'' 

As  soon  as 


htiman 
being. 


he'c' 

he-it - 
thought 

waatgaf'ho'    o'ne°'    na'e'    wo'e"' 

did-he-look 


tgahoiiwa'ye"'. 

there-it  t7i.)-canoe- 
lies. 


now 
(then) 


verilv, 
trulv, 


ne" 

the 


gahoiiwa' 

it  (n.)  canoe 


far 
away 

ne"ho' 

there 


ganyadak'ta'       waa'yo"' 

it  (;i.)-lake-beside  there  he 


arrived 


ne' 

the 


liak.sa''sr6\va       o'ne" 


he  (in.l-ehild- 
great  (is) 


now 
(then) 


hot'liofi'ile' 

he-it-heais 


S'hagowenot'ha' 

bagowenota 


haya'so"',     wai'efi', 

he-called  (is) 


dilas'nie't     ne"  on'gwe',     ne'ne" 

thence-he-it-           the  human  being,       Ihat-the 
spoke 

'""'      "O'ne"'  o'gwa'non'     heni'djoii     ne'     o''wa' 

did-hc-il-            '-N'ow  did  I-yon-it-give         there  so  you           'he    it  (7?.)-meat 

say,                (then)  (as  food)             many  uuml>er 


1  swas, 

yon-it-eat 
habitually, 


ne  ne 

that-the 


if 


giinyodii'gon 

it  (n.)  lake-in 


you-dwell. 


Hihe"." 

llihe'  (excl.).' 


Da'     o'ne"'     <liq' 


So 
(then) 

ne"ne" 

that-the 

hen 'do"' 

hc-it-means 


now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


ne' 

the 


ongwe' 

human 
l>eing 


o''\va'  wan'neks     wa'6no'es"lia' 

did  they  rejoice 


it(7^.)- 
meat 


thev  fg.)-eat- 
it-habi(uallv 


on  ewe'    o   wa     o  ne 


ni 


human 
being 


ne' 

the 


it  (n.)- 
meat 


now 
(then) 


^"'wak      (No" 

will  you.  That 

eat 


ne 

the 


liaksa"g6wa      ne"ho'      f'ha'w^n'dii't 


he  (an.)  child 
great  (is) 


there 


will  he  (an.)  perish 


human 
being 

he'onwe' 

there  where 


diq' 


wooweno'de"'.) 

did-he-him  en-island. 

Da'      no' 

So  thai         more- 

(then)  over 

waa'defi'dr 

Did-he-start 


o  ne" 


now 
then 


ne 

the 


haunwt1°'de°' 

his  (an.)-nephew 


ne"    Okte'oiido"' 

the  Okteondon 


o  ne" 

now 
(then) 


Hasdae 'lie's   ne'  'ho'    I'e's, 

there 


He- weeping 
goes  about 

wen' do"' 

when 

we'not'lia' 

wpnola 


o't'hadawen'nie'-kho*.  Waasda'e*^' 

did-he-se!f-stir-froiu  and.  Did-he-Iament 

place  to  place  (weep) 

ne"      diioi'wa'    ne"   ne*'   de'o'no"'do"' 

the  thus-ii  (n.)-       that         the  not-he-it-knows 

(inaltor  (is)- 
rcason-is) 

he"       woowe'node"' 


he  goes 
about, 


e°s^ha"nyage"'t 

will-again-he-e.srapc 
(get  out  of  hand) 


where- 


did-he-it- 
think 


na  e 

verily 


now 
(then) 


did-he-him-isliind 
cause  to  be 

noii'     ni'' 

perhaps  I 


ne" 

the 

o'gi'he' 

did-I-die. 


S'hago- 

Sago- 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


diq' 

Jtiore- 
over 


'frnn' 


he'oiiwe '       deo(  1  awefi'nie     ne'  'ho'      Avaa  'ge 

tlipre  he-self-stirs-from  there  did-he-it-see 

wher'*  place  to  place 

he'onwe'     t'ha'dihes't4u1'   ganenyafreondil'die'  ho'dwagayo"sda'ne'. 

there  where         there-he-self-il-(to)  it  (n.)-bone(s)-piled-aiong 


there-he-self-il-(to) 
stop-uses 


every-it-(n.)  old  (age)- 
stands  to. 


iiKwnrJ 


I.EGKXnS 


tVul  lio-Il-spo 


hayas"h6"'        Ti-'so" 


he  («(H.)-supino- 
lios 


si  ill 


Da'       ne"ho' 

So  then'  (iitl  lio-Il-spo  Iho 

(then) 

hon'hc'    ne"  se""e"    hayifili'tje'    o'ne"'      ot'<,'6°'.      D^vCngwa'siion 


human 
lunng 


lu'-alivc 

now 

(then) 


1h:it      in  fact, 


his  body-on 


now 
(then) 


il -rot  Ion 

(is). 


Sii'i<l<'iily-jti-<l 
(all  at  onni-jusi  ) 


woi'waiu'ii'i^o'      nc^iic*'     hrMlVwc'       woo't'hfi'has      wai'en, 

did-him  fitVmailor-  Ihal-tho        he  (an.)  hiim:in 

skin-lo-shako-oanoo  being  (is; 


(Jid-he-him-talkeii        did-he-il- 
to  sav. 


"IliVi^'dP"',    <ra'(lji    no'kho'." 

"  My  nephew,        hiihor-<i(v  horo." 


hilhor-<i(v 
thou  come 


O'ne"'     wai"    nc"    haksa"f;o\va 

the 


Now 

(then) 


of 
collide 


nc'ho'     wa'o",     n('"ho'     wak'a' 

there  dI<l-h('-po,  there  nearby 


o't'lia'da't       Iic'duwc 

(Md-he-stop- 
(sluiidhigj 


he  {ini.  i-i-hiM- 
j.Te:il  (is) 

havfis'- 


there  where  he  frtw.l-su- 

pine  lies 


'h('"'     nc" 

the 

O'ni""' 

Now 
(then) 


he  ffln.)-t!ilk- 
li'K  (is) 


nc 

tlie 


he" 

he-lt- 
Uesired 

licn'gwc' 

hefii7!.)-hiimnn 
being  (Is; 


?"scnde'H5't'ho't.     O'nc"' 


will,  shall-the"-it-poor- 
to-be-CiUhse. 


Now 
(then) 


iic"orwas  nic 

wilt-he-his-matter- 
altend  to 

wai'cfi', 

did-he-il- 
suy, 

Is' 

thou 


no  nc 

that-the 


hono^se"'. 

he-hLs-uncle  (isi. 


•iri\va"'(lc"' 

'■  My  nephew. 


o  nc" 

now 
(then) 


waviiwcno'd?"'     nc"     S'ha- 

did  lii'-thee-ishind  the  Sago- 

I'lace  on 


gowe'not'ha".     Da'     djia'go"     diq'.     IIcv()<i;o"'sot     ne"h()"    sadya- 

gowenota.  So  (do)  thou  more-  There-it  (n.)-  verily 

dat'ko"'  "Div'         diijTmV         din'  Dfi '         n'n<-.n' 


thy-own- 
bod\'- 


Da'       djia'go" 

((iol-th.Ml- 

be-brjive 


(liq    . 

more- 
over. 


;a         o  lU' 

(d(i)-th'Jii-  more-  So  now 

then  be-brjive  over.  (then)  then 

dc"sccnno<j('n'iiI'     nc''    Siiai2;()\vc'not'ha 

agowenota. 


more- 
over 


shalt-thou-tiim-ore:ida- 
overmaU'li 


the 


Xcfl'da 

This 
(thing) 


licjraa'jrwa''!!"        o'nt"^"'       wai 


now 
(then) 


there  it  (H.)-sun-sets 
low  (=  is  set  ting  smill) 


now 
(then) 


potent-magi- 
cal ly  (is). 

nc"'sye' 

so-wilt- 
th(ai-it-do 

nf'sye'     nc"     o'lu"'"     c"sriy()''dc"'. 

so-wilt-  the  now  wili-thou-ii-work. 

thou-il-(lo  (then) 

Da'      ne"      diq'      ne"       o'nf"' 

So  that         more-  the 

(then)  o\er 

e"stakhc"son' 

shalt-t  hrow-nmning- 
go-repeatedly 

heniga'wena'.     Da'     ne"     diq'.     Ganyo"     c"yo"ga',       da' 

thns-so-it  (n,)-is-  So  that 

large  (is).  (then) 

ne"ho'  hc"tc'hc'        he'onwe' 

there     •  there-agiiin-  there-where 

shalt-thon-go 

S'hagowe'nofhrr.     O'nc""     ne"ho 

Sagowenota.  now  there 


this 
(thing) 


indeed 


course 


liciiipt'wena'.      Ag\^as'     P"sadyana'lu)'     gagwe 'go" 

thii5-si>-it  (n.)-island  Vary  wilt-tbou-self-ii-  it  (n.)entire 

I.irge  (is).  track-pijt-ijn  (is) 


more- 
over. 


a-s  soon  as 


will-it-it- 
darken. 


one 


so  n(pw 

(then)         (then) 


thafonwaycnda'kwil' 

there-he-il-his-canoe-to  stop-use.s 


now 
(then) 


it  (n.)-litlle-just 
(is) 


hc"'eyo"'     da'     o'np" 
ne"so""he't 


there-wilt-  so  now 

thou-arrive       (then)        (then) 


ne 

the 

ne"h()' 

I  here 


c"sn()"  "gvvat         o'ne'sa'gofi        iia'degayei         ne"so"  'ne  t        nc    lio' 

shalt-ihou-it-dig-  it  (».)-sand-in  jiist-bot^i-it  (n.)-  so-shalt-thoti-it-  'here 

up  flttiug  large-lo  be-cause 

lif'"sadyas"hCil',        o'ston's'hoil        t('''"wa""liiik        ne"       se'sa'gaiii 

there  wilt-thou-self-  it  (n.)-litlle-just  will  it-project  the  Ihy-mouth 

supine  lay,  "  ' 


728 


SENECA    FICTIOK,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS 


[ETH.  AXN.  32 


the 


Deut'hyakdou'iie'     ne"ho'     lia'tlewasoufhe".     Sen'no"'      e°sa'no'- 

Tlence-will-he-thee-to-  verily  just-it  (ti.)  night-middle  Do-thou-it  wilt-thou- 

visil-come  "  (is).  do-not  fear-Cbe 

tou'k 

afraid) 

o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 

o'ne"", 

now 
(then), 


ne"     ne"ho'      de"t'hawi'nondie'     ne"     otci'ya's'ho"'       ne' 

that  verily  will-hither-both-he-it  (z.)-         the 

bring-severally 

e-s'ha'vo"'.      Da' 


ne'kho' 

here 

da' 

so 
(then) 


wai' 

of 


o  ne" 


now 
(then) 


will-apiin-he- 
return. 

e"'eiV, 

wili-he- 
it-suv. 


ga'nyo' 


Twu'a',     twQ'a',  twu'a'" 

Twu'il',            twu'S',  twu'ii,'." 

0'ne°'        ne"  dji'ya' 

Now  (then)           the  dog  (s) 


©'ne" 

now 


So 
(then) 

'Hau" 

"Come 

na'e' 

verily 


e°on'dI'he't 

will-they  (z.). 
stop  (land) 

hesesni'va'di'sakha'. 

there-his-you-two-body-to- 
seek-do  go. 


o'do°'. 

it  sounds. 


pm-on-hast, 

ne''ho' 

there 

Ga'nio' 

Just  as 
soon  as 


will-thy-(they)  track 
take  up 

e°wennenni'yo  'swaeii  'nion' , 

will-they  (n.)-it-sccnt-successively, 

o'no°'ge''"s'ho'''a'     e"adaklie'     ne" 

behind,  just  in  the  rear,  will -he-nin-  the 

just  ing-go 


ha'de'j^oii       sadya'- 


just  as  many 


thou-self- 
it-track 


de''wenna°"dat"hon' 

will-they  (n.)-run-severally  to 
and  fro 

S'hagowe 'not '  ha' . 

Sagowenota. 


agwas 

very 


now 
(then) 


wilt-thou- 
it-think 


o  ne" 

now 
(then) 


o  ne" 

now 
(Ihen) 

ne"ho' 

there 

Da' 

So 
(then) 


e°'satgo'lien'kwa',  o'ne° 


wilt  thou-self-head- 
imcover, 

he°"se'. 

thither. 

o'ne"'      e"'se'cion'nI' 


now 
(then) 


na  e 

verily 

he" 

where 


he's 


he-goes- 
to  and  fro 


we'e" 

far,  far 
away, 

tgahonwa'ie"' 

there-it  (n.)-canoe- 
lies 


now 
(then) 


wilt-thou-it-make 


ha'e'gwa 

also  (again- 
just) 


ne" 

the 


gaj-a''d;i' 

it  (7i.)-body 


ne  ne 

that-the 


ha'de"so;yad3^e'enk      ne'' 

the 


just-both-it-shall-again- 
alike-be 


on  gwe 

human 
being 


gaya'dofi'ni     ml'^'ot      ne'ne" 

it  (n.)-body-made       such-kind-        that-the 
(is)  (dolJ)  (figure)  of-lhiug 

heniyeya'do^'den,       se°''      ne"'yonk,     owa'djisda'      o*he''sa'     kho*' 

such-as-one  (rtn.)-body-  thr< 

kind  of,  shape  of. 


so  many  will- 
it-number 


it  (n.)-rough- 
bark 


it  (n.)-rotten 
log 


and 


ne" 

the 


usually 


na°  ot     e'^'soii  nya  t. 


such-kind 
of  thing 


wilt  thon-ii-to- 
make^use. 


Ga'nio' 

As  snon 


ha'-deyo'honweo'geii      de°a'da't 

wili-he-stand 


just    two-it-it-branch  (is) 
where  divided 


wa'en'no"'-klio' 

it  (rt.)-bow-and 


ge°s' 

usually 


e°aa'wa'k 

will-he-it-hold, 
have  in-hand 


e^'sadyenno'kde"'     ne"ho' 

wilt-thnu-it -task-corn-  there 

plete 

ne' '       gaya'  'da'     g^'  'no"' 

the  it  («.)-bodv,        it  (n.)-arrow 

(figure) 

ne"ho'         n6°yo"deii'onk 

there  so  will-it-appear 


ayen 

would- 
one-it- 
ihink 


0'ne°- 

Now 
(then) 


e'^'ha'a'gwa' 

will-he-it-shoot. 

ne" 

the 


Gagwe'go"'      ne"ho'     nC'cye'. 

It  (n.)-entire  (all)      there  (thus) 


so-wilt-thou-it- 
do." 


haksa''g6wa 

he  (on.)-child- 
great  (is) 


lie  "ho' 

there 


wai'efi', 

did-he-it- 


daas'nye't, 

back-he-it-spoke, 


CCKTIN.  I 

HliWlTlJ 


LEGEN^DS 


72  i) 


"Gano'o"'    na'e'. 

"It  (n.)-hopo-       verily, 
less 

De'aonnisiie''on' 

Not-iI-long-1  imo  wiis 

daas'nvo't,    o(la"!i"t'      1 


Dii'^vais'do"'  dilTi/jryo'" 

Xcit  anylliinij  nor-I-it-lmvc 


o  ne" 

now 

(then) 


no" 

I  he 


ne'ne"    agadyo'a'dfik." 

thut-Ihe  shouM-I-seK-it-em- 

pliiy-wilh." 

ha'nenyade"'da"s'hon 

he  (nn.l-bonc-lyinR  flat  just 


thence-he-it- 
answered, 


it  (n-)-piti[iil 
(is) 


i(>-iii()d()n'lu)"<jri'ii\rri. 

where-so-hi^sullerlng  (is), 


wai  en 

<lid-lie-it- 
sav. 


'He'oflwe' 

'  There  where 


hui'gfu        gii*swe""daiy6"'  iK!"ho' 

that-it-is               it  (n.)-ri)ttea  lies  log  there 

agon'ges'hii',     skayaniine'ge"'  na''"ot, 

my-skin-i)oueh,  fisher 


the-klii'l- 
of-thing 


go   go 

in-li:isle 


ga'ye"' 

il-lies 

iio'sS'go'.' 

Ihenc*^tliou-it- 
bring." 


ne 

the 


Da' 

(then) 

nc'ne" 

that-ihe 


o'ne"" 


now 

(then) 


lie" 
the 


liriksa"g5wii      waa'go' 


skayaiiane'ge"' 

fisher 


ho  («n.)  child- 
great  (is) 


lux" 


t  henco-he-it- 
brought 


'Ot.        O'l 


tie" 

the 


IK 


the-kiiid- 
ol-thing. 


Now 
(then; 


ninrtv 

ii\  rr 


ne"ho' 

there 

gwe"'(la 

flint 


waa'da'go'      nc' 

did-he  it-lake  out       the 

ycnit'nkaok't'ha' 

ont^il-tt)-inaktvuses 
a-spai  k 

no"'     liaksa"g(')wa. 

the 


gaganya  s  lia  , 

it(n.)-knife, 

kho"     lie' 

ami  .the 


kho-' 

and 


it  In.)- 
spunk 


liofigos"ha' 

his-skin-poucli 

lioiio''s(5"' 

e  he-his-unele 

(is) 

no"       ot'lia/'- 

ihe  it  (n.)- 

Daofiwai'yc"' 

ile-it-hiin-gave 


he  (an. )-«bild- 
great  (is). 


Da' 

So 

(then) 


lie 

that 


(iKl' 

niori- 

OVtT 


o'lie"' 

now 

(then) 


ne 

tho 


liaksil''go\vri 

he(r;rt.)-<-hild- 
grcat  (is) 


waa'sa  wo" 

did-ho-it-begin 


waa'cyonnia  noil 

did-he-it-make  in 
succession 

ga'iio"'-'kli()' 

it  in.)  ar-    and 
row 

hono"sc".      O'nc" 

Now 

(then) 

o'fh?"a'dat"lio"'. 

did-he  rtni  successivelv. 


110' 
tlic 


gaya''da's'li()"'rr,     se"''    iii  'yon,    wa'a'no' 

it  (n.)  bow- 


it  (7i.)-bodv-severaI 
(doll's; 


<re"s'    haa' 


usu- 
ally 


he-il- 
holds. 


three         so\it-niim- 
niailyi  bered, 

tgnye'i'     heni'yot     wa'hiis'nyc't     no'' 

(he 


biilh-it-a- 
like  (is) 


where-so-it- 
(orra  is 


he-his-uncle 
(is) 


waadyr'fino'k'dC"' 

did-he-seif-task-coraplete 


gagwc  go' 

it  (n.)-entire. 


did-he-it-say 

'.       Da' 

.So 
(then) 


No" 

That 


tliiui'wa'       waaya'dofinya'non' 


;(i  it  (n.)  rea- 
son (is) 


did-ho-dolls-make- 
severally. 


gaya   tla 

it  (n.)-doll 


(5"ho"nigo"'g(iLi'n 

:-his-mind- 
tnateh.  .'v.^ 


SJini     ne 

will-it-his-mind-c^t^- ,.  the 


gowe'nofha',     iio'no*'     e"s'lia'yo" 


on  gwe' 


human 
being 


1  yas,     ne' 

he-it-  the 

eals. 


the  now 

(then) 

when 


wlll-again-he- 
ret  uni 


ne 

the 


o'ne"'     e''yo''ga' 


now 
(then) 


will-li-it- 

darken 

(become  dark). 


Ga'iiio' 

As  soon 


waadyenno'k'dG"' 

did-he-self  lask-<"om[>Iete 


gagwe  go", 

it  I II.  i-onlirr. 


da' 


'ill* 


o't'hP"ii'drit'-li()"' 

did-he-run-suecessively 


lie-iiig;i\ve  na 

where-so-il  (n.)-is- 
land-large  (is) 


ne 

that 


I  then) 

diiui"wa' 

such-it -sca- 
s<)n-(is) 


o  III 

now 
(then) 

ne'iic' 

Ihat- 
tlie 


o'ne"' 

now 

(then) 

ne' 

the 

S'ha- 

Sago- 


na  e 

verily 

e"- 

wlll- 


730 


SENECA    FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ann.  32 


ho'nigo''gen'm',       e''ho'nigo"ho""da'''.       ne'ne"       ho'swa'e°s 


he-his-mind-over- 
match, 


wiil-he-his-mind- 
deceive 


ne" 

the 


kh(v' 

:ind 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

hiwa'de"'.     E'>soii''hck 

my  nepheV. 


hos'hene''"s'ho"'a     ne" 

he-it-slave(s)  severul  the 


o'n6"' 

now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


Shalt-thou- 
alive-be 


hage°'dji 

hef'77?.)  an- 
cienl-one 

no"h()' 

it  is  a  fact 


that- 
the 

tci'ya'. 

dog(s). 

wai'en", 

did-he-it- 
say, 


he-him- 
hates 


ne 

that 


ne 

that 


na"   ot     o  ne°' 

such-kind  now 

of  thing  (then; 

daas'nye't 


o    gi  . 

did-I-it- 
say." 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


ne 

the 

diq' 

more- 
over 


"Hau", 

'Come, 

e"'siwaye'is 

wilt-thou-it-mat- 
ter-fulflU 

ne" 

the 


"Ni'io'       ne"ho' 


thence-he-it 
answered 


this 
(thing) 


na°''ot 

such-kind- 
of-lhing 


did-he-it- 

say, 

o"si'." 

didst-thou 
it-say. "- 


"So  (be) 
it 


thus 
(there) 


ne"'gye' 

so  will  I- 
it-do, 


dja'go", 

be  brave, 

ngfi' 

this 
(thing) 

h&ks8,''gr)wa 

he((i7!.)-child- 
greal  (is) 

e°giwaye'is, 

will-I-it-matter- 
fulflll, 


Da' 


diq'    waadeiT'di' 


So  now  more, 

(then)        (then)         over 

ne"     gaya"da' 

the  it(n.)-bodv. 

(dull),' 

rSn,,' 


did-he  ian.)- 
start 


ne"    haksa"gowa     haawinon'die' 

the  he('in.)-child-  he-it-carrying  goes 

great  (is)  along. 


O'ne"'    ge°s'    ne''ho"     he'ofiwe'    deyo'honweo'geii 


Now 
(then) 


usu- 
ally 


there 


there 
where 


ne"ho' 

there 


i£e°s'      o't'ha'das 


usu- 
ally 


did-he-it-cause 
to  stand 


ne  ne 

that -I  he 


gaj'^a  da 

it  (n.)-body 


se' 


two-it-it-hranch 
forked  (is) 

Dl' 


ne''ho'      ge^s'     na"'ye' 


there 
(thus) 


usu- 
ally 


so-he-it- 
did. 


We'so'     waak'dofi' 

Much 


m  ,yon 

three  solit-in  iium- 

many/  ber  (is) 

hegawa'not      ne'ne' 


ganakdi'io     he'  ga'it, 


it  (/(.(-place- 
J)ne  (is) 


where-it  (71,)- 
tree  stands, 


ne  ' 

that 


verily 


did-he-it- 
search 


usu- 
ally 


where-il  (n.)-is- 
land-floats 


that- 
the 


ne" 

the 


we'e°'     he'  ga'it 


far  awav 


where-il-(n.  )- 
tree  stands 


ne' 

the 


he'onwe'        wat'honwayendak'hwa' ;     ne'ho'      nu"'ye 


there 
where 


i!-seIf-canoe-to-Iie-uses; 


(le"ho'nigo"gefi  'ni' 

so-will-hc-hi.s- mind- 
overmatch 


di'sak'ha' 

body-to-seek- 
come 


ne' 

the 


Da'      o'ne"' 

So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


ne" 

the 

o'ne"' 

now 
(Ihen)- 
wheu 

na'o' 

verily 


lio'swa'e°s 

he-him-hates 


lie" 

the 


will-il-il- 
darken. 


o'gils''ii' 

it-it-darkens 
a  little 


o  ne"' 

now 
(then) 


there 
(thus) 

o'ne"' 

now 
(then; 


ne"'lio' 

there 


so-he-il- 
did 


ne 

where 
(so  thiit) 

de^fhofiwiiya'- 

tbence-will-he-his- 


thither-did- 
he-go 


ne' 

ilie 


haksa"gowa     ho'oiiwc'    t'hat'honwayendak'hwa'    ne"    ho'swa'o"s, 

hi'  (an.)-child-  there  where  there-he  liis-canoe  lo-lic  uses  it  the  he-him-hales, 

great  (is) 


he'onwe' 

there  where 


nionakdii'gwen     ho' 

there-lie-it-place  has       wlfre 


eMda'se-'da'. 

wlU-he- self-conceal. 


Ga'nio' 

As  soon  as 


ne''ho' 

tliere 


waa  yo" 

there-hi'-ar- 
rived 


o  lie" 

now 
(then) 


waadyo'thit 

dld-hehsi'K-set- 
to  work 


lie  ne' 

that-the 


waayadon'ni' 

did  he-it-hole  make 


iie"ho' 

there 


M'llTlN,'] 
IK  WITT  J 


LEGENDS 


731 


o'ne"sftgon 

it  (;i.)-sand-in 


iic''ho''(lji'         ui'vva's. 


(.just  right) 


S(>-it- 
largc-rs. 


De'iionislu>"ofr 

Not-it-loiiK  time-is 


o'np"' 

now 

(llicn) 


wafulyfiino'k'di'"',  da'   o'nf"    diq'    iic'ho-  \vaad}'fis"hen'  o'ni'"sS- 


gon. 


ilid-ht'-his  t;isk-  so  now  nioro- 

coinplfle  (then)         over 

o'ni^"'     \vil'o"^ji'      no''ho- 

now  dUi-il-il-  Iherp 

(then;  darken 

(lowil''hrr      n(* 

it-projects  till- 


Thi- 


did-iie-selM;iy 

hay!5s'h?""s'lion, 

lif  Mipiiic  lay  just 


It  (».)-sunU 

no"ho' 

lliere 


ost'lion's'hou 

it-small-just 


doii'iiyc's 

l)re;itlies. 


Xi'''ho"       wai"' 

I'li'TP  ofooursi' 


hasagniii', 

his  face-hole 
=  his  mouth 

ha'iiifjo"";"i" 

his-niiml-is-oii 


nc 

thp 


tgaye  i' 

It  in.)  col- 
recl  (Is) 

'    o'nC"' 

now  then 


no"       ho'swa'o"' 

the  he-hitn-hato^, 

O'yo'nis'ho't     ne''ho' 

Di^-il-delay-long  tliiTO 

e"s'ha'yo"' 

will-ajiaiii-lie- 
arrive 


o  ne 

now 

(then 


IK"-' 

the 


111' 

the 


S'hajiowc'iiofha'. 

.Sayowenota. 

hay!ls"hp"'      n(>"'ho' 

lio-supine  lay  thcrt' 


nii'v      lia- 

verily  he- 

e"s'ha'yo"' 

wUl-auaiiVhe- 
arrive 


hi\"nigo""a"' 

lils-mind-ls-on 


no" 

the 


hot'hyu'wi 

h<'-it-hini  loM 


110 

the 


humait 
being(s) 

hon()"''so 

his-uncle 


1  yas. 

hc-ii-eats. 


IIoiio""(lo 

H("-it-kiiew 


gagwo  go" 

it  (H.)  entire  (Ls) 


Hoiio'-'do" 

He-il-kut'W 


wai' 

of  course 


wend jaiiii  go 'wiis 

earih-alTecls. 


h('-iii(iy!l'd3t'g(i" 

Iliere-su-his-l>ody 
oi-kou  (is) 


110  lie' 
Ihat-tlie 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

o'ne"' 

now 

(then) 


iio'ho"'s'hon 

thus- just 
(there) 


ni  \v>t 

so  it  is 


.o  ga  at 

dld-it-it- 
pass 


perhaps 


dyorigwa"'s'hon 

sud'denly-just 

ho'-ganyo'dao' 

where-it  (*n.  )-lake 


o  nt'"' 

now 
(then) 


hot'hofi'do' 

he-ll -hears 


()  \()  nisiio  t. 

did-it  (n.)-reniaiu. 
(endure). 

t'ho'lii-i 

ni'arlv 


no' 

the 

ho-iii'yoiT 

I  here->(>-ii -num- 
bers-many 

e"gaiwriyo'i'. 

will-it-matier 
(uUiUed  1)C 

dfl'gwisde"'    de'ao"- 

nol-auything  not-H- 

lilm- 


Ilil'dewa'.sont  •  'ho' 

Just-it  («.)-nlj;hi-miil<lle 


no" 

the 


o'n?"'      day()di*s'da'(Ii( 

now  h'ither-ii  I  n.  i-noiM'- 

arislng-conies 


odogf'di'     ho" 

itseU-sIeers  where 

directly 

Da'aonis'ho'on 

Xot-il-lasls-lony 


(then) 

gawe'iiot. 

it  tn.  i-island- 
tloats. 


do"d\V(''n(lo'do"'     o'no"' 

wlll-it-day-])roj(!ci  now 

(protiudo)  (thi'n) 

haksa''govva     tchihoga'on'yo"' 

he  (rin  )-chUd-  wliili-he-it-w;i6- 

great  (Is)  watching 

adi'gwa'     na"''(i(    M(>''ho' 

unknown        such-kind-  there 

of  thing 


o'ne"'      hot'hofi'do'        dayonatH'sda'the'       no" 

now  (then)  he-li-liears  hiiher-they  (n.)-i heir-noise-  the 

arising  come 

giThofi'wS'      no'no"      liowc'iiodo" 

It  (/i.)-canm'  that-the  ht'-hini-islancl- 

piil  on 

no"     liaksa''go\va,     no"klio'     hot  hoil'de'    no"    djl'ya'  ontich's'da', 

the  he  I  fin.)  child-  Ihat-and  he-li-heais  the  dog(*s)  their  (7,.)-sclf 


hofigak'     othgawoofi'tho'      no' 

wild  geese  they  ;  z.  i-paddiing  the 

come 


agwas 

very 


great  (is), 

igt'ii'    odigri'v('''"s    a\vadis"ho'     ha'gwis'do"' 


no 

thai 


noise 

(liini"wtl' 


It-is       they  I  z.  t-ke-'uly-       sliould-they-        whatsfK-ver  thing.        tiiar         ihere-it  (7j.) 
witling  (are)  it-pursue  reiuson  (is) 

no"     iK^"'     no'ho'       wa'diks     gawe'iiil'ge'     no"     ofi'gwo'     o"w;i'; 

the  that  there  they  (j.j-         it  (».)-island-on         the  human         ii  (n.)-nieal; 

il-eal  bemg  llesh; 


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

gayonde'i     he"     nihayeiino"cle°'"     ne"   ne"    ho's'hene°"s'ho°'  ne" 

il  (z.)-it-kiiows    where         such-his-manner-of-  the         that       his  (a7i.)-slaves-several        the 

doing-kmd  of  (is) 

oiTgwe'      I'yas. 

human  he-it- 

being  eats. 

Da'       ne"      diq'       o'ne°'      tci-hot'ho°'cliyos'do°         hot'hofT'de' 

So  that  more-  now  as,    he  his  ear(s)-tLne-  he-it-hears 

(then)  0%-er  (then)  wliiie,  has  made 

dayotka'e',     o'fie"'      waa'dl'he't     ne"     ne"      haofiwaya'di'sak'ha' 

there-it-sound-  now  did-he-land  the  that  theuce-he-his-body-to-seel£- 

arose  (then)  comes 

ne"     honwa'sw!i'e°s.     Da'     o'ne°'     diq'     hot'hon'de'     o'ne"'     ne" 

the  he-iiim-hates.  So  now  more-  he-it-hears  now  the 

(then)        (then)  over  (then) 

S'hagowe'not'ha'    wai'en',    "  Hau"   o'ne"'    seswaya'di's&k'ha'    ne" 

Sagowenota  did-he-it-         "Come,  now  his-you  (yi^O-body-to-  the 

say,  "Goto,  (then)  seeli  do  go 

hon'gwe'       gawe"     adi"gwa     uia'nenya'ye"'."     Ganio"     diq'     o'- 

he  ('z«.)-haman      wliere  (in  unJcnown  ihere-liis-bone(s)  lie."         As  soon  as        more-       did 

being  (is)         what  place)  over 

hat'ga'      ne"     honas'kwaiye"'       ne"       dji'ya'       o'ne°'       wai'en', 

he-it-  the  his  slave(s)-owned  the  dog(s)  now  did  he-it 

let  go  then  say, 

"Snidja'go",      snidja'go".      Hestua",      hestua",       hestua"."       (It 

"  Voii-two-be  you-two-'Be  Hence  you-  hence  you-  hence  you- 

brave,  brave.  two-go  two-go,  two-go." 

is  usual  to  confine  the  use  of  this  last  command  only  to  dogs ;  it  sig- 
nifies '  go  ye,  go  ye,  hence.' — Ed.) 

Da'      ne"      diq'      ne"      dji'ya'      o'ne°'      o'weiinenni'yo'swa'en' 

So  that         more-  the  dog(s)         now  (then)  did-they(2.)-lake  scents 

(then)  over 

he'onwe'     hodyana"ho°'     ne"     haksa"g6wa     o'ne"'    diq'    wao"se' 

there  where     he-Iiis-tracks-bas  traced      the  he  (an.)-child-  now         more-  did-they-iiim 

great  (is)  (then)         over  pursue 

he'onwe'     hodak'he'so"'     ne"    haksa"gowa.     Da'    ne"    diq'     ne" 

where  there         he-nmning-went  to         the  he  (an.)-child-  So  that       more-         the 

and  fro  great  (is).  (then)  over 

haksa"g6wa      hot'hon'de'       ne"       S'hagowe'not'ha' 

he  (a7i.)-cliild-  he-it-hears  the  Sagowenota  did-he-it-speak 

gr^t  (is) 

wai'eil',  "Hon'gak,    ages'he'ne°'s'ho°'    o'ne"'    swadokhwi'sak'ha'." 

did-he-it-  "  Wiid  geeese,  my-servants-several  now  you-own-food-to-seek-do  go." 

say  (then) 

Ne"      haksa"gowa    hot'hoade'tci'hw6°     ne"   na°"ot     ha 'do"     ne" 

The  he  (an.)-chUd-  he-it-he^irs-distinctly  the  kmd  of        he-it-says      'the 

great  (is)  thing 

hage°'dji.     O'dwacli'de"'     o'n6°'       ne''     hon'gak. 

he-(on.):incient        Did,-they(2.)-fiy  now  the  ■wild  geese. 

one  (isj.  away  (then) 

Da'      ne"      diq'      o'ne°*      ne*'     S*hago\ve'not*ht\'       he"     waa- 

So  (then)     that         more-      now  (then)        the  Sagowenota  where       thither 

over 

dak'he'      he'onwe*       heyone'iion      ne"        ho's*hen6"'s4io"'       ne*' 

he-running  there  where         hence-they  (z.)-ii3V^^         tlie  his  (an. )-slave(s)-several  the 

went  gone 

dji'ya*.     Da'     tchihadak'he'      <lySngwa*'s'hon      hot'honde'      we'e° 

dog(s).        So  then      as  he-moning-went       suddenly-just,  all  at  once,  he-it-hears  faraway 


ll^j;?r]  LEGENDS  733 

tkfi'iu,     "Wau",   wall'',      waii","     dyo'don.      Aorwas'     doskffi'fi' 

thorp-it  "Wau",  wau",  wmi","      thore-it-it-sounds.        Very  nearby,  close 

(z.)-barks  at  hand 

niyaadak'he'       o'ae°'       hot'hofi'de'       ne'"       sgat'       ne"      dji'yii' 

thiiher-ho-runniiiK-       now  (then)  ht>-ii-ht'iirs  the       one-it  (z.)  is      the  do^' 

goes 

o'dwa'senf'lio,     "  Kwgfl",       kwen",     kweii","       o"ge»'.      Ne"lio' 

did-it  Cz.)-cry  out,  "Kweii",  kw6n"'  kwCft","         did-it-.say.  There 

waadak'he',    ne"ho'     waa'yo"'    dy?ngwa"s'hon      waa'gc""    iie"ho' 

lienci'-lie-ninning-         there  lhiTi»-did-be-  suddenly-  just  (surprised)      did-lie-it-see  lliere 

goes,  arrive 

gayas"he°',     ne"     hodjrya'     ne  "klio'      ne"     n(^"lio'     lieyo"s5"'o" 

it  (j.)-supine-l;iy         the  his-dog  tlut  ujid  the  there  there-it  (n.)-fallen- 

has 

ne"     ga"no°'     he"     wasa'gaiu.      Da'     no"     diq'     ne'     Sliagowe- 

the       it  (7!.)-arrow     where     it  (2.)-uiouth-in.  So  that        more-         the  Sago 

(then)  over 

'not'ha'     o'ne"'     ■\voo'ni<i;()'"i^'a''lie''    iie"klio'     wai'gij',    "AwCndofi'- 

weiiota  now  (then)         did-il-his-inind-ve.\,  thai-:uid         did-lie-il-sav,      "It  is  diseour- 

trouble 

nysi't     na'e',"    o'ne"'     wai"     \voo"(lo"'s    ne"     lu)nask\vano"s'de'k 

aging  verily,"  now       of  course       did-ho-il-loso         the  ho-it-(s.)  servant-cherished 

(then) 

ne"     djl'yii'. 

the  dog. 

Da'     ne"     diq'     na"'ga"      ne"      hon'gwe'     o'n6"'     waas'nye't 

So  then      that      moreover     this  (it)  is         the        he  (n"  )-humun     now  (then)     did-ho-it-speak 

being  (is) 

■wai'r>n',     "AgAvas',     en"     non'     hodya'dat'ko"'." 

did-he-it-sav,         "Very,         T-it-think       It  iiis  body  is  otkon." 

seems 

Dil'diia"s'h()fi    o'nC'    a'e'    hot'hou'de'    we'e"'    tga'nf,   "Wau", 

Not  long  aitcr-just     now  (then)  again  he-it-hears  faraway    there-it  (2.)-       "Wau", 

is  barking, 

wau",    wau","    dyo'don,    da'    o'ne"'    na'e'     ne"ho'     watldak'lie' 

wau",  wau","  there-il-it-  so  now  verily  there  did-he-running  go 

sounds  (then)        (then) 

he'gwa.     Agwas'     o'ne"'       dosken'a'      niyaadak'he'    o'nC"'       a'e' 

towards         Very  (just)      now  (then)    it  is  nc;ir,  nearby,       Ihithor-he-running        now     again, onee 

goes  (then)       more 

ne"      djl'yii'-,      "Kwefi", 

verily  hc-it-hcars  did-it  (2.)-cry  out  the  dog,  "KwSii", 

k\v6ii",     kwefi","     o"g5"'. 

kwfii",  kwCfl","  did-it-say. 

Ne"    o'ne"'      ne"ho'    wafi'vo"'    o'ne°'    a'e'     waatka't'ho'     nc" 

The     now  (then)  there  did-he-:irrive        now  again.       did-he-ii-look  at  the 

(then)    once  more, 

skat'       nc"      dji'ya'       ne''ho'      gayas"lii5"',       ne''ho-kho'       a'e' 

one-it-is  the  dog  there  it  (2.)-supino  lay,  there  and    again,  once, 

more 

ga'sa'gain    ga"not,     ne"     diiui"wa'     ne''ho'      hoyo'se""do"       nc" 

il(s)-mouth  in      it  (n.j-arrow     that  lhere-it(n.)-  there  ihere-it-has dropped         the 

protruded  from  rea.son  (is) 

dcUin'hado"'t     ne"     ne"     gaya'donni     gaya"da'.     Da'     ne"     diq' 

two=  in  order  (second)    that  the        it  (n.)-mamiikin    it  (n.)-doll,  body.       So  that         more 

over 


734 


SENKCA    FICTION,    LECJKNDS,    AND    MYTHS 


(ETH.  ANN.  32 


ne'    h;ige"'(ljl     o'ne"'     a'e"      waas'nye't     wai'fin',     "O,  awendofi- 

Ihe      he  (an.)  ancient        now         again,         did-he-it-speak      did-he-it-say,      "Oh,      it-is-discour- 
one  (is)  (then)     once  more 

'nya't.     awCrulon'ny&'t 

aging,  it-is-discouraging 

'ko"'     na'e'." 

olkon  (is)     verily." 


na'e'. 

Agwas' 

en'' 

non' 

liodj-a'dat- 

verily. 

Very 

i-ii-ii- 

ibink 

seems 

his  (an.)-body- 

Tchi-hof'ha'     o'ne°'     a'e'     hothon'de' 

he-it-hears 


Whlle-he-it-is- 

utlering 

s6'"'a(lo'''t 

three-ln  order, 
(third) 


now 
(then) 


again, 
once  more 


lie" 

Ihe 


ne 

the 


O'ne"^ 

Now 

(then) 

o'n6"' 

now 

(Iheii) 


o'dwil'sefit^ho' 

did-it-cry  out 

o"ge"»'.      0'n6"' 


dji'ya', 

dog, 

hag6"'dji' 

he(an.)-an- 
cient  one 


'•Wau-', 

"Wau", 

ne"ho- 

there 


ho'gwa     tka'iir     ne"' 

aside,  yon-        ihere-it-is-         the 
deraway  barking 

',       wau'',  "      dj'o'don. 

wau","  there-it- 

sounds. 

waadak'he'.       Agwas'       a'e' 


wau' 

wau" 


did-he-niimiug 
go- 


Very 


doskffi'a'       ni3-aadak'he' 

there-lhither-he- 
running-goes 


o'nfi"' 


nearby  close 
at  hand 


now 
(then) 


did-it-say. 


Now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


verily 


dji  ya,', 

<log, 

ne-' 

Ihe 


"KwSn", 

"KwOn", 

hage^'djr 

he(an.)-:iu- 


cient  one(is) 


verily 

kwM", 

kwofi", 

woo'dj'o"', 

did-he- become 
afraid. 


agam, 
once  more, 

hot'hon'de' 

he-it -hears 

kwen"" 

kwcn"." 


kho',    "O'ne"'    na'e'    6°sgade'go''s'hon,    o'nC"    se""'e"' 

and,  "Now  verily  shall-again-I-self-absent  now         inasmuch 


"Now 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


did-he-it- 
say 

lio'was''a't 

did-it-(them)- 
=just,  (then)  as  use  up 

ne"     ne"    gya'da'skwa"cyonk     ne"     ne"     agedjIya"s'ho"'geu'o"'. 

that  the        I-their-bodies-prized-sever,illy       that         the  my-dag(s)several-were. 

Agwas'     na'e'     liO(lya'datko""s'hou." 

Very  verily         his  own-body -ot  kon  (is) — just." 

He'ouwe'     ha'donsa?"''dat     ho'onwe'     tga'honwa'yg"'. 

There  thence  ni.':»in  he-nin  there  there-it  (n.)-canoe-lies. 

where  (he  ran  lutraeward)  where 

Da'    ne"    diq'    tchi-wafha'wl'    ne''    h!\ks8"g6wa     t'liihodye'?"' 

that      more-       while-il  (n.l-sel(-bore        (he  he  (an. )-child-  just-he-seK-kept 

over  along 

we'g""     he's' 

far  he-goey- 

away       to  and  fr 

()'ne''s!lgon 

it  (n.)-s;ind-in 


(teen) 

h!l'nigo"'ha'-kho', 

his-inind-was  on  (it),  and, 


ganio 

just  as 
soon  lis 


waade'no"'du"go 

did-he-self-unbury 

he' ha  we 'non 

thilhex-he-went, 

oe°"he't, 


it  (n.)-stood, 
slopped, 


ages' heno""s' ho" 

my-ser  viin  1  s-se  veni  I 

O'nf""'        ne" 

Now 

(then) 

gagwe'go" 

it  (n.)-«ntire 


no' 

the 

o"t'ha'dja'g"'-kho'        ne' 

did-he-it-shove-and  the 

o't'ho'et  wai'gfl', 

d  id-he-it- 
say, 

ne"     hou'gak. 

the  wild  geese. 

hon'gak        onadi's'da' 


great  (is)  still 

ne"      h&g^""djl     go'ge' 

Ihe  he  (a7i.)-an-  quickly 

cieni  one  (is) 

ne''ho'        ganyadak'da' 

there  it  (n.)-lake-beside 

o^il'hon'wa' 


did-he-call 
aloud 


Ihe 


wiM  geese 


o'wadl'yo"' 

did-they  (?.)- 
arrive 


they  (^.Vnoise- 
raii^ed 

gahonwak'da' 

it  (fl.)-canoe-beside 


it  (n.)-canoe 

'Ga'o' 

"Hither 


"daufi"' 

"tauii"" 


o'nega"ge' 

it  (n.)-water-on 

nonda'swet 

thence-do-you- 
come 


dyo'don, 

there-il- 
sounded. 


o'wadyi\'daniyou'de°' 

did-they-own-body-attach. 


rlHTlN, 

IlKWITT 


LF.GKXDS 


735 


IM'      lie' 

So  the 

(then) 

"Ne"ho' 

"There 


hilks!i''g6\vri     ganio'     \vaiiili''ii()"''(la' 

as  soon         'lid-ho-self-piit-abdarri 


kho-' 

and 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

waas'nyc't 

did-he-il-spp;!!; 


lie 

lhi> 

ne" 

that 


he  (an. )-<'hil(l- 
Kreal  (is) 

nii'o'       hc"(ijiswa(l6'<j;('''"t        lie'ofiwc 

verily  heiice-will-aKain-yoii-  ilierewheTo 

direct  (yoiirselve.s) 

(lyoiigWil'dc-fi'tlyofi." 

1  licnce-we-yiiu-have-st  art  c'l . " 

'       diq'       no''       hofi'gak       oiiallion'dc 

wild  Keejie  they  (i.)dt-hear 


()  IK'"'      wai'ffi', 

now  did-he-il- 

(Ihen)  say, 


liswu'ilffi'dyon 

ilienc'e-y()ii-lia\'e- 
departed 


lie" 


iia"    cit 


more- 
over 


SU'-  , 

su", 


Sir 


Ne" 

The 


o  m"" 

now 
(then) 


"      6'do-. 

it  (Ti.)-l^ept 
saying. 

o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 


the 

o'wadi'gawo 

did-they  fs.)-paddIo 


tho  kind-(>r- 

Ihinn 


o'siioii'die', 

it-swiftly-went 
along 


"Su-', 

"Su", 


su" 

su". 


SU-', 

.su". 


hat'honwayefidak'hwil' 

lie-lus-canoe-to-li^u.ses  (it) 


S'liagowe'iiofha' 

SaRowenota 

wafi'gf'"'         lie' 

d  id-he-it -see  the 


Wiia  yo" 

did-he-arrive, 
reach, 

ga'hofi'wa' 

it  (ji-)'-canoo 


wa'o-dfildyonan'ilio' 

thithef-it-movine-went  along 


hak: 


sa  -gowa, 

lie  (an.  )-child- 
gre;it  (is) 


lie 

that 


ganyadac'gc'      iu>''li()- 

it  (/i.)-lake-oii  iliereon 

daoiioo'doii'die' 


t  tience-he-it-< -oof  rolling 
ctime  along. 


one" 

now 
(then) 


lia'n()"'da'(lie' 

he  being  aboard 
went  along 

o'fho'et 

did-hi-- 
shont 


lie'ofiwe- 

t  here  where 

I 'no" 

far 

away 

no' 

the 


lie' 

the 


hage"'djl'     waas'nyet     wai'en', 

he(an.)-an-         did-he-it-speak  did-he-ii- 

cient  one  (is)  say, 

Sko'-iioiik'he'       ni'ge"'."       O'lie"- 

.Vg'lin-I-thee-to-  S(^it-is  "  Now 

hring-conie  (ihein 

daogil'ye"     alial '  lion 't  la  t . 

not-he-consenls     should-be-it-listen  to. 


'l)oil(laS!i"get 

"Thence  <Io-thou- 
turn  back 


dodya(la"n<)n^de'. 

Itot  h-t  hon-I-brot  hers-are. 


ne' 

the 


lie  (JI.)-Child-gre:il 

(is) 


to""'?" 

not-at  all. 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


O'ne"- 

now 

(then) 


dypfigwa-  's-hofi      daas'nye't 

suddenly-just  (all  at  Ihence-he-it- 

once)  spoke 

he-ni'yofi        o'wa"        i'swas' 

ynu-it-cat 


as  many-ii  is 
as  (miich) 


o  wa 

It  (1.)- 

mcat 


wai  en  , 

did-he-il- 
say, 

ne" 

the 


diq' 

more- 
over 

'O'ne"- 

"Now 
(then) 


ne 

the 


na  e- 

verily 


ganyodii'gon 

it  (n.)-lake-iii 


lulksa'gowa 

he  (an. )-chlld-great 
(is) 

o"gwa'non 

dirl-l-yoii-it- 
give  to  eat 

swe°"dyo"' 

vou-abirlo 


deswadawen'nye-kho'." 

you  travol-and.-' 


O'ne"' 

Now 
(then) 


ne' 

I  lien 


o'w(?nnondon-lia'e"' 

did-they-rejoice 


wa'onno""es'-ha'-kli()- 

did-they  havejoy-and. 


hist',      hai', 

hai', 

hai" 

hist'.            hai'. 

hai', 

hai' 

ne-'     o'wa'' 

wa'dis. 

the           it  (n.)- 
nieat 

Ihey  (2)- 
il-eal . 

Da'      ne" 

diq' 

no' 

So              that 
(then) 

iniirt'- 
over 

the 

lull, 

hai',' 


o"ge"'. 

clid-lt-sav. 


w  rnn("'iidy;Vil!it  'ko"'s 

Ihoy  (:.i-whose  bodies  larej- 
otkon 


-Hist'. 

■iii,-.!', 

Ne"ho- 

Tliore 
(Thus) 


S'hiitjowe'not'liu' 

Son<)\vcnol;i 


imw  then 


hist',    hist" 

lli^1',  hi-st', 

luyodi's'da' 

so  Ihey  (r.)-much 
noise  made 


*lonsah5'ot. 

:ipiin-dl'l-lie- 
shout 


736  SENECA    FICTION,   t^GENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [ktii.  an-n.  32 

wai'en',     "Ho',     dagl'den'     dedyadeanofi'de'.      Dondasifget.'' 

did-he-it-  "Ho',  thou-me-do-        both-thou-I-brothers(are).         Thence-do-thou-turn 

say,  havepiivon  bark." 

O'ne"'     ne"     haksri"gowa     daas'nye't     wai'eii',    '^Nis'     d.^ 

Nciw  the        he  (n.)-chiM-great  thencp-he-it-  did-he-it-  The-  not-able 

(then)  (is)  spoke  say,"  thou 

ais^ga'yo"*     dondasa''get." 

did-you-consent        thence-then-wnuldst- 
turn-back." 

Da'       ne*'       S'hagowe'not'h^'        dondaas'nye't       wai'en'     a'c'. 

So  the  Sagowenota  thence  again-d  id-he-  did-he-it-         apiin* 

(then)  it-speak.  say  once 

more 

"He^"e°     de"i'     ne"    S'hagowe/not'h;!'.     Ge^ha's'ha'-s'hon      ni"a*. 

"Not  at  all  not-I  the  Sagowenota.  I-ser\-ant-just  (am)  the-I- 

only. 

T'he°"dyo°'     na'e'     ne"     Siiagowe'not4ia'." 

There-he-abides  verily        the  Sagowenota." 

Da'      ne''       diq'      ne"       liaksri''gowa      te''"e°      de'otdionda'to° 

So  that  more-  the  he  (f^n. )-child-  not  (it  is)  not-did-he-it-obey 

(then)  over  great  (is) 

ne"     na''"ot      woodo"esyo""kvve"'      ne"      hoswa'e'^s.      Wa,as'nye't 

the  kind  of  did-he-him-it-pray  for  the  he-him-hates.  D id-he-it-speak 

thing 

woo'wi'     ne"     hon'gak     wai'eii',     "Ne"ho'      heseswado'ge'^t     he" 

he-it-told         the  wild  geese         did-he-it-  "There  (to  thither,  (do)-again  where 

say,  that  place)  you-go  directly 

diswa'den'dyon." 

thence-you started  away." 

Da'     o'lie"^'     ne"     Mksa''gowa     kho"     ne"        hos'he'ne'^'s'ho^' 

So  nnw  the  hefan.)-child-  and  the  his-servants-several 

(then)      (then)  great  (is) 

ne"        hon'gak  ya'honnadr'he't        o'he°'on'die\:  he'onwe' 

the  wild  geese  thither-they  (r.)-arrived  it  (n.)-day-beeom-  there  where 

(stopped)  ing  (was); 

t*hodino""sot.      Ga'nio'      wao'dr'he't      o'ne"'      wai'en',       '^Ages'- 

thert^iheir  (flft.)-  As  soon  as  did-they  (2.)  now  did  he-it-  "My- 

lodge-stood.  stop  (then)  say, 

heno'^"s'ho"'     ne"     hon'gak     o'ne^*       swadekhwi^sak'ha'."       Da' 

servants-several  the  wild  geese  now  you-your-food-to-seek-for  So 

(then)  '      (do)  go."  (then) 

o'ne°'      na'e^       o'dwadl'de"'      ne"       hon'gak,      "daun"/'     o^'ge'''. 

now(then)      verily  did-they  (2.)-tly  the  wild  geese,  "daun*',"  did-it-say 

Da'      ne"ho*      o'has'nye't     wai'en',       ''Ogonda'die'      deMi'swe' 

So  there  did-he-it-  did-he-it  "At  nnce,  right  thence-will 

(then)  speak  say,  away,  you-come 

ne"      ne"      ga'nio'       ne"      e°'gi',"      o'ne"'-kho'      waadyeii't'ho' 

that  the  as  soon  as  that  will-I-it  now      -and  did-he-it-draw 

say,"  (then) 

■cho"      ne"      o'ne°'     waii'deil'di',      kho"     ne'" 

the     it  {n.)-cauoe      aud      the    now  (then)    did-he-depart,      and      the 

o'ne°'       waadawen'ent       he"        gao'"'gade'.      Waadj'engwa's'hofl 

now  did-he-it  ascend  where  it  (7?.)-hank  Suddenly  fsurprised-just 

(then)  (of  the  shore).  he  was) 

nc"ho'      doskefi'o"'      ne"ho'     gano°"sot,      ne"ho'       na'o'      hwa'- 

there  not-far,  there  it(n.)-lodge  there  verily  thither 

nearby  stood, 

ha'yo°'. 

he-arrived. 


CCRTl 
HKWI 


IN.-l 

ttJ 


LEGENDS 


737 


ne 

that 


ne 

the 


Da' 

(then) 

ye'Myo" 

She(«n.)- 
abode 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

ho'nos'ta'ge'. 

his  (an. )-hare-skin-in 

wiiofiwayc'na' 

ititl-slu^-hira-erabraco 


diq' 

more- 
over 


ne  ' 

that 


no 

tho 


o'n6"'       he'ovofi      waa'gC"' 


now 
(then) 


there-h(^it- 
entered 


did-he-it- 
sec 


ll(>"ll0' 
1  hero 


yeksa"<!;r)\va, 

she((in.t-ohild- 

Rreat  (i$), 
(young  maid) 


ne 

that 


ne' 

the 


she  ((in)  woman 
(is)=(hninan  boinp). 


diq' 

more- 
over 


ne 

the 


o  nO'" 

now 
(then) 


Da' 

so 

(then) 

no' 

tlie 


o'nC"' 

now 
(then) 


na  e 

verilv 


no" 

tho 


waa'yo"'  he-gano"'  'sot 

did-he-il-  thor(^it  (n.)  lodge 
enter  stands 

agofi'ffwe'  dondave'dil't 


sht>(«n  Vwoman 
(human  being)  (is) 


lijlksti"gowa, 

hp(an.)-chlld- 
great  (is). 


"Shalt-thnn-to-be-pitied- 
bocome," 


thenoe-d  id-she- 
arise 

wil'a'g^"', 

did-she-it-suy 


111  g(^" 

so-it-is 


I-thy-eMer 
sister  (am). 


"Ne" 

"That 

"Ne" 

That 
(one  is) 

WiiTi'gg-', 

<ii<l-yh(^il-say, 


war 

it  certain 
(is) 

ne"ho',' 

indeed," 


Is"a'       vano"s?" 


this 
(one) 


thou 
only 


he-thv-unclo 

(IS) 


no' 

the 


Okto'ondo"'." 

Okteondon." 


'I"-kho' 

'•I-and 

dvai 


no"        hriks!l"g5wa. 

the  he  f«n.)-ohil'l- 

grait  (is). 

hakno"sg"      ne"     Okte'ondo"'. 

the  Okteondon. 


wai'c^"' 

<Iid-ho-it 
say 


he-mv-uncle 

lis) 


gaioii  ni' 

il-raatier-makes 
(-=it  is  the  cause) 

t'liongyil'difgwo" 

om»-my-boily-h:LS-taken 
(=kidn;ipped  me) 

O'ne"'  diq'    na'e' 

verily 


(ledyadennon  do 

both-thou-I -brother- 
sister  (are). 


O'nt^"'      o'nc"*tci 


Now 
(then) 


lone  while  aco 
(now  I  ho  main) 


no 

the 


Daves 'nyo't 

Thence-she-re- 

I)Iied  (spoke) 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

'         I" 

I 


no 

thill 


d(V 

I honco 


he'onw 

I  here 
wtlere 


dyoiigwa  'ri()"'sot . 

there-our-lo<lge-stanfis. 


Now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


sa'sa  cyon  m 

ag.iin-Ihoii-do- 
dress-thyself 


ne"ho'  ho'gwa    hodil'kani'yont 

there 


ne"      sacj'onny&s"ha'     ne' 

the  thy-garments,  thy  the 

raiment 


o  no' 


now 
(then) 


a-^ide, 
(yonder) 

s'ho'yon." 

again-lie-retnmed 
(home)." 


Da'       o'nP°'      sa'a'cvon'ni' 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


again-he-self- 
dressed 


gagwe  go", 

it  (n.)-entire  (is), 


o  nO'" 

now 
(then) 


he-it-bimd  le-at  lached 
to  tiang 


gagwe  go- 
it  (n.)-entire  (iS) 


saadva"(lilwit.     O'ni-"' 


ag:iin-he-seU-body- 
enclnsed  (dre.ssed). 


Now 
(then) 


daycs'nye't     wS'a'gf"', 

thence-she-spoke  did-she-it- 


say, 


"Na°'da 

"Here  so 
then 


na  e' 

verily 


s&'ofi'na'     ga'no""-kho'." 

Ihy-bow  (it  is)      it  (n.)-arrow-and." 

Da'      ne"      diq'      na'o' 

So  that         more-        verily 

(then)  o\  er 

ne"      ha'c^ha"'     ho'wo" 

the 


ne' 

the 


haksri '  'gowa      o  'nP"' 


ht^seU 
94615°— IG- 


he-it-owns 
—17 


he'iiiyofi 

as-many-it - 
numbers 


hefaJi.)-<'hiM- 
groat  (is) 

<leo'iiyu"syo" 

one-h  is-hand.s-has 
taken  from. 


now 
(then) 


again-he-it(n.) 
received 


738 


SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.  sa 


it-say, 


Da'     lie"     diq'     lie''      yeksa 'gowa     o'lie"'     wa'cs'iiye't 

that        more-         the  she  (iwO-child-  now  did-she-it- 

over  great  (is)  (then)  speak 

'  Da'      o'ne"'      iiii'e'        ho°djidy&'den'di'       iiik'hu'. 

verily  hence-will-ayain-thou-I-  here. 


So 
(then) 


"So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


o'ne""       diq'       ktt'sno'" 


now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


it  (n.)-bark 
(rough  b.) 


usually 


ha'de^sas'lit^ii'da't 

just-shalt-thy-steps  rest 

dyaiia"se't. 

traL'k-conceal. 

Dfi'     ne"ho'     wai" 

there  of  course 


e"gyi'ii 

will  1  it  lay 

ne" 

that 


hence-will-Liyain-thou-I- 
(lepart-t=start-for  home) 

he 'on we' 

there  where 


ojiMe' 


na'e' 

verily 


it  (n.)-path 
appears 

diiui'Va'       he'' 


there-it  (n.)- 
reason  (is) 


where 


wa  a  - 

did-sh3- 

Da' 

So 
(then 

lie  "ho' 

there 

e"sa- 

wilt-thy- 


So 

(then) 


ng^yo'defiofi'die' 

so-will-it  (n.)  way-be- 
gding 


he-niyo'we'     ne"     tka- 

the  there, 


thpre-su-it 
distant  is 


hofiwa'yg"'. 

it  (n.)-canoelies. 


O'diqni'e' 

Thou-l-<lie 


ne"ho'      ne"     dyen'gwa'     ga'o'    e^s'hof 


Indeed, 
Id  fact. 


that 


if  it  be 


hither  will-again- 

(this  side) 


gi'ii't 

he  us 
overtake 


ne' 

he  us  the 


deyagya'dr.       Dyawa""o"'  kasno°"ge'       ha'de°sas- 

both-we-two-                  hucceasively  it  (n.)-bark-on             just  Shalt  thy 
together  abide 
(my  husband). 

'hefl'da't     he'-niyowe'      oadU'die'     ne*'  tkahonwa'yd^''.'' 

steps  rest                  there-so-it-               it  (n.)-path          the  there-lt-(n.)-canoe-Iies. 


there-so-it-  it  (n.)-path 

distant  (is)  appears  along 

Da'     ne"     diq'     ne"ho'     wanandio''dat    ne"ho*      wanii'o'k'd^"' 

So  that        more-  there  did-they  carry-out  there 

(then)  over 


did-they-two  fulfiU 
the  matter 


he'niyon 


as-so  many  It 
numbers 


go'snye"o'^' 

she-it-attended  to 


lie" 

the 


ne" 

that 


agon  gwe' 

she  (an.)-human 
being  (woman) 

?"hadyana''se't     ne''     ago'g6n"s'ha'. 

will-he-his-Iracks  conceal     the  her-younger-brother. 

Da'     o'ne"'     nfi'e'     ka'sno""ge'     hos'hPndii'ofi'die' 


So  now 

(Ihen)        (then) 


verily 


It  (7i.)-rough- 
bark-on 


his-footsteps-falUsuc- 
ce^sively 


diiui"w{l' 

there-it  (n.)  rea 
son  (is) 


he-niyo'we' 

as-so  it -distant  is 


tkahonwa'ye"'.      Ganio"      iie"ho'      wanl'yo"' 

Just  as  there  did-they-two- 

soon  as  arrive 

waas'nye't,     wai'e"', 

did-he-it-speak,         dld-he-it- 
say, 

nonda'swe'."         Da' 


there  if  (n.)-canoe- 
lies. 


sa"govva      o't'ho'et, 


o  ne" 

now 
(then) 


lie' 

the 


child    great 
(is) 

ne°"s'ho°' 

vants-several 


did-he-call 
out, 

gfi'o' 

this -way, 
hither, 


"Hon'gak, 

"  wild  geese, 


thence  again 
you  come." 


So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


diq' 

more- 
over 


hak- 

he  (an.)- 

ages' he- 


just  as 

soon  as 


sawadi'yo"'     o'ne°'       a'e' 


h^ksa"gowa     wai'e' 


saas  nye  t    ne 

again-he-  the 

spoke 

**  Ne"ho*     he°djiswado'ge°t     he'oilwe'     degy^tld^s'gwa'.' 

"There  hence-will-you-go-directly       there  where  I-it-to  bet-use." 


again-did-they 
(2.)-return 


now 
(then) 


again, 
once  more 


he  (an.)-cbild- 
great  (is) 


did-he-it- 
say, 


D'h^*^'     na'e'      wayade'no""da     ne"     ne" 

Now  verily  did-they  two  get  that  the 

(then)  aboard 


n' 


o  ne 

now 
(then) 


ne"     hon'gak       o'wadl'gawe',       '  Su", 

the  wild  geese  did-they  (j.)-pad-  *  Su", 

die  (-it), 


yiide"gefi'. 

they-two-elder-slster-  So 

younger-brother.  (then) 

1/  1} 


SU 
su" 


Dn' 

So 
(then) 

SU'',      su"," 


su 


su 


CrRTIN,"! 

HKwnrJ 


LEGENDS 


739 


o"g6'" 

did-lt- 
say 

Da' 

So 
(then) 

no" 

tliat 

o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 


ne 

the 

ne" 

that 


o'ne'gii', 

it  (7i.)-wsiter, 

diq'    ne" 

more-        the 

liVtT 


waili'lionyufi  'die'     aj^was' 

they  (5.)-C4in(>e-pro-  very 

polling-go 

h!lksft"o;owa     wiia'sfi'wC"' 

(lld-he-it-begln 


he-(an.)-chlkl- 
greut  (Is) 


no 

the 


woowixtkwe'ni' 

did-he-hini-ovcrconic 


ne 

tlio 


li()s\vfi'e"ti,     wai'6°', 

he-liijn-hates. 


osno  we . 

It  (7l.)-S\vHt- 

(Is). 

wafidr'fino'dC' 

s-soni 

er 

O'nf'' 


dld-hi'-liis-song- 
ullcr 


dld-lie-il> 
say, 


"Now, 
(then) 


o'n(5"' 

now 
(Itien) 


1-lt- 
believo 


no" 

that 

o'nP^ 

now 
(Itien) 


D&'aonis'he''on' 

Not-lt-lasted  (Not-it 
was  long  lime) 

agesiicnf""s'ho"',    djidjfi'go", 

my-servants-several,  be  ye  brave, 

Te""6"      de'i'no"      niyo'we 

Not  (it  is)  noi-far  so  it-distant 

(is) 

gtihofiwa'ciofi 

the  It  (n.)  canue-hi 


sag&'dt-ri'di'.' 

agidii-l -start 
homeward." 

sSas'nve't 


again-he-it- 
spoiie 

djidjfi'go" 

hi'  VI'  bravo 


wai'g"', 

dld-h(^lt-say, 

djidja'go"." 


"Hon'gak, 

"Wild  geese, 


away 

deiyas'*he    ne''    ne'' 


be  ye  brave.' 

nihonni1*(lofi(lyonMio' 

so-they-depiirtliig-go- 
'  aluug 


'tip"* 


o  ne 


now 
(then) 


(loi'nont      \vainina"'do2r 


tw()-lhey  (an.)-     that 
]>ersons  are 

ne*'      ne"ho'       gilt' 

the  there  il-stanUs 


twii-ihey  r<in- 
tained  (are) 


did-ihey-it- 
notico 


ne" 

the 

ne" 

that 


ne 

the 


gu^hofi'vva'.      Dy^figwil's'hon     a'yt^fi' 


it  (7i.)-<^iinoe- 


Suddenly.  just- 
All  at  once-just 


would  (»no 
think 


gadogr'n's'hon     da'a'on'     onsawil'dr'fi'dr  ne*'  gallon 'wti'     odi'gawe 

should  it  start  the 

again 


it  (n.)-<)ne-jiist 
place 


not-il-able 
(Is) 


it  (n.)H?a.noe      they  (:r.)-p:L<l(lle 
=  iire  paudlmg 


no"     hon'gak  na'c',     "  Su",  su",  su",     su","     o'don. 

the          wild  geese  verily,           "Su"  sii,  svi,            su,"           it  (n.)-says. 

Da'     o'ne"'  wa'oritka"t'ho'  ne"  eksil''g6wa    ne"    ye's'hofi'ne' 

So             now  did-she-look  the  she  (irnl-child-       the         her  (;i.)-back-at. 

(then)         (then)  great  (is) 

d5'engw&"si,  ne'lio'     ga'nyot  ne"  ne"    gana"son,     ga'sto"'s''ha' 

surprised,  lo,  there          <me-it  (n.  )-at-  that  the 


<me-it  (n. )-at- 
tached, 


that 
(Ills) 


one-lt-has 
atuu-hed, 


tt-(n.)-rish-hook 


ne"ho'  gasto""cyot  gahofiwa"ge'.    Dyi"ngwri"s'hon  wii'ontka"fh()' 


there 

si'gwa 

lo,  yonder 


one-it -fish-hook 
has  attached 


it  (n.)-canoe-on. 


t'hanyu"cyut 

there-he  (an. )-sit5- 
erect 


t'ho(h-r-fit\vti''"adie'     ne" 

the 


hence  he-it-drawhig 
along  (is) 


nc"kho' 

that-and 


gahon'wa'. 

it  (7!.)-canoe. 


8ud(ienly-jiist 

niflioye'C"' 

so-lhere-he-it- 
posed  (is) 


did-she-look 

kho" 

and 


no' 

the 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


hq' 


more- 
over 


a'sk\ve"s&' 

t(n.)-hatchet 


ne"ho' 

there 


ne' 

the 

kho" 

and 


eksa'  'gowa 

she(an.)-chlhi 
great  (is) 


(londa  yok 

there-she  (ari.)-it- 
took  up 


ka'skwa' 

it  («.)-sio[ie 


agwas 
very, just 


niyosno  we 

so-it  (n.)-swifl  is 


yonder,  far 
awav 


W!l'o'yr'°t       he'ouwe'       gasto""oy()t 

did-.she-it-  Ihere  il  (n.)-hook  lis) 

strike  where  attached 

ne"      gahon'wa'      no  ' 

the  it(n.)-canoe  that 


hon'wc'      wa'o'di' 


di<l-it-it- 
c;isl 


diiui"wfi'     odi'gawe' 

there-it  (n.)- 
reason  (is) 


ne' 


they  (2-)-paddIe    the 
=are  pad<lling 


hon'gak. 

wild  geese. 


740 
O'ng"" 

Now 

(lIU'll) 


SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND  MYTHS  [BTH.  Ann.  ss 

ne"       hilksil"gowri        daas'nye't       wai'C"',       "Ages'- 

the  lic(fin.)-child-  tlienpe-h<vlt-  did-he-il-  "My- 

grcul  (is)  spiikc  say, 


honii""s'ho"',     hau"     o'nC"'      djidja'go",      djidja'go",     djidja'go"." 


scrviints-scvOTal, 


como, 

go  to, 


now 
(then) 


bo  ye  bnive, 


be  ye  brave, 


be  yc  brave." 


NG"s'hon     ha'do"'. 


Thal-Just 


ho-i(-kopl 
siiylnf. 


Agwas'        dii'dji'ii' 

Very  nol-loiiKtime 

(soon) 


o'nO- 

now 
(then) 


agnm, 

OtU'O 

more. 


wanigil'ffi'yofi'      ne"     no" 

di(l-tboy-lwo-it-  that  the 

wuteh  (—examine) 


o'nf"'     a'e'     sawa"gct     ne' 

now  nj:m'n,       apnin-it-wpiU-       the 

(then)     oiu-c  more,        biickward 


galion'wil',     odi'gawe'     na'e'     nc" 

it  (n.)-canoc,         thoy  (r.>-pji(l<lled     verily  the 

=-are  piuidliiig 

lion'giik.     O'nf"'     na'c'     nc"    oksa"gowa     wit'oiitkafho'     ne"Iio' 

wild  geese.  Now  ver-ily         the  she  (nnO-chiUl-        did-she-look  (—see)  there 


Now 
(then) 


she  (nnO-chiid- 
grcat  (is) 


hofi'wc'     t'hriyas"hf"'      no"      dcya'di      ne"ho'     t'hayoskw?""da', 


yoniier,  lluTi'-hc-Iios 

I;ir  fiwiiy  (•-ilo>s  supiiu') 


the  tw{>-ihey-!irc  there 

one  {—her  husband) 


thero-he  (an. )-prone  lies, 


kho" 

and 


ue" 

the 


t'lulhncgi"hii'      agwas'      a'yCu'      o'n6°'      t'ho'hJi' 


tluMiri^lu'(fiH.)-waIer- 
drinks  (is  drinking) 


very 


would- 
one-think 


now 
(then) 


nonrlv 
(almost) 


f"o"s"S't     ne"     ohne'gft'     he-ganyo'dae'. 

the  it  (7i.)-water 


Will-ll(^lt- 

oonsnme  all 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne  ' 

llmt 


diq' 

ni»'rt>- 
ovor 


there-il  (n.)-lake- 
stands  out. 

osno'we'     ne"ho'     wti'owenon'ofulie' 


very 


it  (;i  )-n>pid 
(is) 


there 


fhithor  it  (7i.)-goes 
along 


ne" 

the 

kho' 

and 

IU-" 
the 


gahoil'wil'     he'onwe'     nit'liosga"vvf"';     agwas'    hii'so'wfinJ'n 

it(n.)-canoe  there  sivthero-his-mouth-  very 


there 
where 


sivthero-his-mouth- 
holds  open; 


his(on.)-moiith- 
large  (is) 


nc"    hatkwisdils'd?i"i'    no"     nc"     hanokdjr'"'do'wSnfii     no" 

the  his-stoinaoh-enor-  that  the  his  (an.)-pannch  large  (is)  that 


his-stoinaoh-enor- 
mous  (is) 

diiui"wil'      weso"djr 

(hero-it-reason  mnch-too 

(is) 


ho'wadi'yo"'       ne" 

thilher-they  (2.)-  the 

It-entered 


ohne'gSnos, 

it  (».)-water, 


ga'a"gAV!i' 

<lniio, 
marked, 


ho't'gi^"' 

high  up 


t'lmvn'da'ik>',       ho'da"o"' 


there-his-body-ex- 
lends. 


he-self-has 
ailed 


verily 


ne 

the 


oluio'gilnos. 

it  (ii.)-waler. 

O'nP"'      neii's'hoil     dotiiosga"wf"', 

Now  neuir-just  fly  thero-he-nunith-holds 


ne"ho'    dehni-ga'we'     ne' 

there  they  (2Vp;»ddle,         the 

are  pa<idlmg 


(then)  opt'ii, 

gahoft'wii'     odi'gawe'     na'e'     no"     hon'gak     heniyoorwe'nyon. 


it  (Ji.)-caiioo 


they  (:.)-pi»ddlo 
(=iire  paddling;) 


verily 


wild  geese 


ns-so  much  it  is  nble 
(jusl  lis  much  as  t  hoy  areable) 


Ganio*'   o'n?"'    dosk^n'o"'    nit'hayas"lu^"^    no"   S'hagowo'not'hil", 

.hist  as  now  near  (il  is)  as  there-he-stipine-        the  Sagowenota. 

si>on  as  (then)  lies 

no''      hiiksil"gowa      o't'liayo^'gwaga'dat      no"      no" 

the  he(nn.)-ohild-  did-he-it-bend  (-bend  the  bow)     that  the 

great  (is) 


da'      o'ni"^"' 

so  now 

then         (then) 


j;-,-;^]  LEGENDS  741 

hofn'no"',     kho"    no"     o'ne"'      ne"h()'     waaile"syonni'      hc'onwe' 

it  (n.)-b<iw,  unci  ihc  new  llicro  <liil-h(^solf-u>-uim-  there 

(I  Inn)  make  where 

fliatkwis'daye"',     agwas'     na'c     liayil'do'waneQ. 

thcre-his-paiinch-lies,  very  verily  lils-body-great  (Is). 

Da'     ne"ho'     waa"yak     agwas'     oyeu'dct     otkai'iii,        ■hfi"", 

So  there  diil-he-it-shoot         very  it  (n.)-notablo       it(n.)-lnuil  "liu"", 

(then)  (is) 

o'Vo"'.     Agwas'     ohno'ganos     osno'wo'     (loiKlagayJl'go"'!. 

Uld-il-siiv  Very  it  (H.)-\vater  it  (n.)-niplil  thence-iliiI-it-<'i)ino 

(1)  (orth. 

Dii'     ne"     diq'     ne"      gahoi'i'wa'     wo'C"'     o'nC"'      ho''\vc'. 

So  that        more-         the  it  (n.)-o>noo  farnway,         now  thither-<Ii(l- 

thcn  over  yoncicr,       (then)  it-go. 

Da'     o'nC"     wao'sai'yC'     o'lif'"'     hagoc'djoil'nyo"      iic'     hofi'- 

So  now  did-he-inulce  now  he-fftiein)  iirced-on-  tht-  wild 

(then)        (then)  luuslo  (men)  rejwatedly 

gak,         ha'do",  "Djidja'go"         djidja'go",         djidja'go"         no'' 

Reese,       he-it-kept  saying,  "  lie  ye  brave,  be  ye  brave,  be  ye  brave,  the 

'"'       agcs'honf""s'ho°'." 

•,         my  servant  (my  ser%'ants- 
*'  several')." 

Dil'aonis'ho"()"'         o'nC"'        no"h()'  wiifuli'vo"'         lu-'oriwc' 

Not-il-(n.)-long-lime-(was)  now  there  did-they  (aH.)-arrive  there  where 

(then) 

dcf 'hiio"'das'gwa'        ne"         S'liugowe'iiot'hri'.        Ganio"      iie"h()' 

biiih  there-ihey  (rt«.  mfl5c.)  the  Sagowentita.  Assoonas  there 

li-lo-gamblc  use. 

waiiii'yo"'      o'ng°'       haks!l"gowa       wai'C'-'',      "  O'nc"'       Is'      ne" 

did-they  (an.)  nnw  he  (an. )-<"hiId-great  did-he-it-  "Now  You         the 

(then)  (is)  say,  (then) 

lidfi'gak,     o'n5°'     fi"djis\vadadwr-finT'yok.      No"     wai"      sewan()"s- 

wiM  geese,        now  (then)        will-agnin-you-free-contintie  to  be.        That      o(  course  one-you-rap 

gweon'gwo"   ne"   no"   do'tgai'wayo'i'    no"    S'hagowe'not'hri'  na'c'. 

tivehasmado  the       that        n"t-iher<»-il  (Ti.)-matter-    the  .Sagowenola  Verilv. 

of  right  (i.s) 

Da'       o'nf'       diq'        o"djiswa(lad\vfnnry("')k;       hf"""?"'        na'e' 

So  now  more-        wiU-again-vou-seU-Io-controI  continue;  not  (it  is)  verily 

(then)  (then)  over  ('•  continue  to  be  free); 

dc'awe"o"'     no"      S'hongwadyofuni'kdii"o"',        ne"     ITawonni'yo', 

nol-he-lt-in-  the  Ile-our-faculilci-coniplelcd  Ibo  He,  the  Disposer, 

tended  (  —  our  Creator), 

no"     ne"     aycs'hono"'g('n'()fd<     gyo'. 

that         the  sliould-one-slav(*-to  be-  some 

Continue  (persons). 

TIitwe"()"'  sf""P"'        na'c'        gagwe'go"       ne"       gofiiKni'lic' 

Ife-il-inlended  in  (act  verily  it  (n.)  entire  (all)         the  they  f.M-alive  (are) 

(""wt'^fitiondadwPnnT'yok      ne"     no"       liil'dcganyo"dilge'.      IK""?"' 

will-lhey-sclt-to-control-continuo  that         Ihc  ns  many  as  Not  (it  Is) 

it  (r.)  game-animal  numbers. 

na'c'       do'a\vo"o"'      ayag()na"skwayfn'da'k       g^"9'       nii"'gc"      ne" 

verily         not  lle-it-designed  should-one-il-slave-to-  usually         this  (it  Is)  the 

possess-continue 

ga'nyo'. 

jt  (cO'gAnie  animal. 


742 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 


[ETH.  AXN.  32 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

kho" 

-and 


o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 

na'e' 

verily 


that-and 


heniswaye'M^ 

as-so-you-it-do- 
habitually. 

o'ne^'     de°djonwendji^'k'ho*^k. 


diq'    na'e*     eMjiswa'dSii'di'  o'ne"^ 

verily         will-again-you-depart  now 

(foryouf-  homes)  (then). 

na°yo'deuon'die'  kho" 

so-will-it  (7j,.)-condition-  and 
to  be, -continue, 

ne"kho'       g^^s' 


more- 
over 

nis"a' 

only 

Nis' 

The- 


Da' 

So 
(then) 

ne" 

the 


ne"ho' 

there 

na'e' 

verilv 


usually 


ne°yo'(lenon'die'        ne" 

so-will-it  (n.)-<?onditon-to-be,       the 
continue, 


now 
(then) 


will-you-land-cross-successively 
as  habit. 


Da' 


So 
(then) 


ne       ge"s 

that       usually 
(then) 


6°yetc'hi'gg°'     ne" 

will-one-you-see  the 


o'ya' 

other, 
diSerent 


he°yagon'he'die' 

there-will-one-alive-to-be, 
continue 


ne  ' 

that 


ne' 

the 


wendo^^'gwa     he*'     ne°yonis"he't     S'^yow^ndjS-'dek. 


at  the  tim&-just 


where     so-will-it-(n.)  continue 
to  be 


will-it-earth-to-stand, 
continue. 


Da'    De"ho'.     Da'    o'ne"'  o'gadwenno'k'd^"'.     Da'    o'ne°'     diq' 


So 
(then) 


there. 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


swa'deii'dr 

you-depart 

den'di'. 

depart. 

Da'     ne" 

So  that 

(then) 


e°swat'h:i'die'-ldio 

will-you-flying-go  and." 


did-I-my-word-end. 

Da'     o'ne" 


So 
(then) 


now 
(then) 


So 
(then) 

na'e' 

verily 


now 
(then) 


more- 
over 


o  wenna  - 

did  they  (2.) 


diq'     o'n6°' 


nirire- 
over 


now 
(then) 


a  e 

again 


diq'     he°djidya'den'di'     aq'dji'i'/' 

hence-will-lhou-I-  my  elder  sister." 

depart  (homeward) 


more- 
over 


dondah^s'nye't     wai'^°', 

t  hence-aeaiu-he-  did-he-it- 

spoke  say, 

Wa'agogai'ye"'     na'e' 

Did-she-it-cousent-to        verily. 


"O'ng"' 

'■  Now 
(then) 


0'ne°'    na'e'    day^'d^fi'di'.     Ne"  ne"    sk§nno^"on*     yat'hai'ne'. 


Now 
(then) 


verily 


theno-elhey-two- 
departed. 


That 


slowly 
(=peaceably) 


they-two-travel  on. 


Wahy(^fino'het     ge°s'     ne*'     o'ng°* 

usually       the 


Di<l-they-twn-stay 
overnight 


now 
(then) 


wa  o   ga  . 

did-it  (n.)-night- 
become 


Wa'o"hen't  o'n^ 

It-day-became 


now 
(then) 


wa  o   ga 

did  it  night 
become. 

Wis' 

Five 

o'ne" 


Wa'o'hcu't    o'ne 

It  day  became 


now 
(then) 


gg"s' 

usually 


nonsa]iiya''go'.     Da' 

so  many  again-they-two-       So 
staid  over  night. 


ne  ' 

that 


a  e 

again 

diq' 

more- 
over 


waya'dgil'di.' 

did-they-two- 
depart. 


ne 

the 


o'ne"'     sani'yo"' 


now 
(then) 

Tgn"gn< 

Not  (it  is) 

o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 

Okte'ondo"'. 

Okteondon. 

Da' 


daas'nye't      wai'(^°',     **Aqdjri',      o'nen' 

thence-he  {an.)-       did-he-it  "My  <iear  elder  now 

spuke  say,  sister,  (then) 

ni"a'.       de'gonyende'i,       so"djr      non' 

the-I-onJy.  not-I-thee-laiow,  because,         perhaps 

(=nidch-too) 


now 
(then) 

na'e' 

verily 


again  1  hey  two 
arrived  home 

sedl'yo^'. 

thou-l-have- 
returned  home. 


tchi-geksa"a* 

while-I-child-small 
(was) 


sa'defi'dyoii. 

thou-departedst. 


Da' 

So 
(then) 


ne"kho' 

that-and 


nis 

the-thou 


sedino"se° 

he-our-two- 
uncle  (is) 


ne' 

the 


So 
(then) 


ne 

that 


ne-' 

the 


I" 

I 


waeyan6n  'haun' 

did-I-his-track  follow 


s'ha"g<l'dgndi'.     Ne'  'ho' 

when-I-departed.  There 


CI'KTIN. 

iii;\vii-r. 


LEGENDS  748 


na'e'     he''hoy()fi     he'onwe'      tganyoda'de'.     Da'     i'wi    ne"    non' 

verily  there-he-.ir-  Ihero  where  Ihere-it  {n.)-Iake-  So  I-it-       that      perhaps 

rived  exists.  (then)       think 

na'e'     ho'nyo'     hoi'geu     ne"     hii"sowanCn. 

verily  lip-him-  thiit-cme  Iho       his-moulh-large  (is), 

killed  (it  is) 

Da'     o'ne"'     diq'     ne"     nc"      do"dyatnoo"'gwak,     I"      dedya- 

So  now  moro-       that         the  shalt-thdU-I-seK-love-cver,  we  thou-I- 

(then)        (then)  over 

da"'nonde'.      £  °goiinoo"'gwak       o'lie""       nis''a'        I"kho'         C^- 

brother-sister  Shall-I-thee-lo-love,  now  ihe-thou-  I-oud  shall- 

(are)  continue  then  (only) 

gnoo"'gwak. 

thuu-rae-to-love,  contintie. 


Da' 

o'n6°'     diq' 

ne"     I"     ?"gadowat"ha'." 

So 
(then) 

now       moreover       the           I         will-I-io-huiit-Ko." 
(then) 

Da' 

ne"       diq' 

o'nS""      wiiado'wat ;     agwas' 

li!idjino"'dl'yo; 

So 
(then) 

thai        moreover 

now              didhe-it-huni;              very 
(then) 

he-hunter-fuie  (is); 

o"wa' 

ne"s'hon 

liodl'go" ;         awenontgade"si 

ion         lic'ofiwe' 

it  (n.) 
meal 

that -just 

tliey-it-continuf^                  ii  (n.)-pleasam-just 
to-eat; 

there  where 

deni"d\ 

•o"'.     Da'     ne"ho'      nigaga'is. 

both-they- 
abide. 

two-            So 
(then) 

there           so-it-lecend-iong 
(is). 

137.  TiiK   Legend   of    Doad.vnegen    .and    IloTKWTsn.vnEOENA 

(TWO    I'KATIlKltS     tlK.KTIlKI!    .\  M)     lilt.    T<1H  I  IIIKI)    HOY  i 

Two  male  persons  lived  together  in  a  lodge.  The  ekler  wu.-  nuiiied 
Doiidanegefi,  and  the  younger,  his  nephew,  was  called  Ilotkwisilade- 
gena.  T'ncle  and  nephew  lived  i)y  hunting,  and  they  two  dwelt  in 
eonteiitinent,  tor  they  had  meat  to  eat  at  all  times.  They  thus  spent 
tlieir  lives  pleasantly.  There  weic  no  other  people  dwelling  in  their 
neighborhood. 

After  a  long  time  i):i.-.~('d  in  this  kiinl  of  life  the  uncle  said  to  his 
iK'ijhew  :  "  Oh,  my  nephew  I  now  go  yoiidei-  to  that  valley,  where  you 
must  seat  yourself  ami  H.^ten  \ery  intently  for  wluitever  sounds  that 
are  ])eculiar  which  you  may  hear.  I  do  not  know  what  sounds  you 
mav  hear,  iiut  \(iii  sUiill  hear  siiiuethiiig."  So  Ilotkwisdadegena  set 
out  for  the  \iillcy.  which  he  was  not  long  in  reaching.  TT;iving 
arrived  there,  he  seated  him>elf  :ind  kept  \ery  ([uiet.  He  reiiuiinetl 
in  this  attitude  for  a  long  time. 

Suddenly  and  withf)ut  any  warning  an  owl  ])erched  in  the  hollow 
of  a  near-by  tree  hootetl  Wu,  mm,  m'M,  icu-ff.  The  youth  tiuieldy 
arose,  saying:  "This  is  perhaps  what  my  uncle  means."  and  started 
on  the  run  homeward.  It  was  not  long  before  he  reached  the  lodge. 
Then  the  elder  man,  Doiiilanegefi,  his  uncle,  said:  "  \\'hat  did  you 
hear?  Come,  now,  tell  it."  "  So  let  it  be."  rejilied  Ilotkwisdadegena. 
But  the  elder  said  :  "  A\'ait  just  ;i  moment  6rst.     Ycui  mav  commence 


744  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [kth.  ann.  3a 

just  as  soon  as  my  tobacco  begins  to  burn,  for  I  want  to  be  smoking 
when  you  relate  what  you  have  heard."  So  he  put  tobacco  in  his 
pipe  and  lighted  it  and  immediately  drew  in  the  smoke.  Then  he 
exclaimed  :  "Now,  relate  what  you  have  heard."  "All  that  I  heard," 
said  the  nephew  to  his  uncle,  "was  the  hooting  of  an  owl."  The 
uncle  at  once  laid  aside  his  pipe,  and  seizing  a  bark  ])addle  he  arose 
quickly,  and  dipping  up  a  paddleful  of  hot  coals  and  ashes,  poured 
them  over  his  nephew,  who  was  standing  not  far  away.  The  burn- 
ing coals  fell  on  the  youth's  head.  As  he  did  this,  the  uncle  said: 
"  I  do  not  mean  that."  The  nephew  began  to  cry  because  of  the  hot 
coals  on  his  head,  and  going  to  his  bunk  he  sat  down,  for  these  two 
•persons  occupied  each  his  own  side  of  the  fireplace.  Finally  he 
stopped  his  crying  and  said :  "  Very  miserable,  indeed,  has  become 
my  state,  for  now  my  uncle  has  begim  to  mistreat  me,  and  he  has 
never  done  this  thing  before."  Night  came  on.  and  they  lay  down 
to  sleep,  the  uncle  and  his  nephew.  The  next  morning  they  arose, 
and  when  they  had  eaten  their  morning  meal  the  uncle  again  said 
to  his  nephew:  "Come,  oh,  my  nephew!  do  you  again  go  to  listen, 
and  you  must  again  sit  in  yonder  valley  where  you  sat  yesterday." 

The  nephew  soon  started,  and  having  arrived  at  the  valley  he  again 
sat  down  to  listen  for  mysterious  sounds.  He  listened  very  atten- 
tively. He  was  surprised  in  a  short  time  to  hear  hard  by  the  place 
where  he  sat  the  cry  of  some  being:  Tclkls,  telkiskiskls.  This  was  a 
cry  made  by  Tcoktcon'khwen.  Again  the  youth  arose  witli  a  spring 
and  ran  toward  the  place  where  stood  the  lodge  occupied  by  his 
uncle  and  himself.  On  reaching  his  home  the  elder  man,  his  uncle, 
said:  "What  thing  is  it  you  have  heard,  having  just  returned  home? 
Now,  please  tell  it."  Then  his  nephew,  Hotkwisdadegeha,  replied, 
"  So  be  it ;  I  shall  tell  it."  His  uncle  answered :  "  Just  a  little  while, 
first.  I  will  first  fill  my  pipe,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  tobacco  is 
lighted  you  may  tell  me  what  you  have  heard."  So  he  filled  his  pipe 
with  tobacco  and  lighted  it,  and  when  he  had  taken  his  pipe  into  his 
mouth,  he  said :  "  Come,  now,  tell  me  what  you  have  heard."  Hot- 
kwisdadegeiia  answered:  "  So  let  it  be.  All  I  heard  were  the  sounds 
tcikiKkixMs,  tctMsMskls,  in  whispers."  Then  Doadanegeii,  the  uncle, 
suddenly  sprang  up,  and  laying  his  pipe  aside,  seized  a  bark  paddle 
and  dipped  up  from  the  fire  burning  coals  and  hot  ashes,  which  he 
poured  on  the  top  of  his  nephew's  head,  who  was  .standing  near  by. 
The  nephew  began  to  weep,  and  the  uncle  exclaimed :  "  That  is  not 
what  I  meant."  The  nephew  then  went  away  to  his  own  bunk  on  his 
side  of  the  fire  and  there  sat  down.  He  stopped  his  crying  and  said: 
"  Indeed,  I  am  in  a  miserable  state.  Poor  me !  He  has  now  over- 
matched my  orenda." 

Night  coming  on,  they  two  retired  and  lay  down  to  sleep  for  rest. 
In  the  morning  they  ate  their  breakfast.    Just  as  soon  as  they  had 


;,y,\?;V':',:]  LEGENDS  745 

linislietl  eating,  the  uncle  said:  "Oh.  my  nephew  I  go  again  to 
listen.  You  must  again  seat  yourself  in  the  valley,  and  you  nuist 
listen  with  great  attention."  The  nephew  replied,  "  So  let  it  be,"  ami 
started.  Having  arri\ed  in  the  valley  where  he  was  accustomed  to 
sit.  aiul  tiiere  seating  himself,  he  li.stened  very  attentively  for  strange 
sounds.  Suddenly  he  heai'd  a  woman  hegin  to  sing  in  the  distance. 
lie  understood  clearly  that  it  was  a  woman  who  was  singing,  and 
then  saying,  "I  believe  this  is  what  he  wants  me  to  hear,"  he  started 
on  the  run  for  the  lodge  very  swiftly.  Having  arrived  there,  the 
elder  man  said:  "Are  you  returning  after  hearing  something?  Tell 
what  you  have  heard."  The  lU'phew  rei)lied  :  "  Yes."  The  uncle  said, 
"  Come,  tell  it !  "  The  nei)hew  answered  :  "  So  be  it;  I  will  tell  it '"; 
but  the  uncle  said,  "  \\'ait  a  moment  until  1  iill  my  pii)e.  so  that  1 
will  l)e  smoking  while  you  are  telling  me  your  story."  Having 
liirhted  his  pijie,  he  said:  "Come,  now,  you  must  relate  what  you 
ha\e  heard."  The  young  man,  Hotkwi.sdadegena,  answered:  "So  let 
it  be  as  you  say.  The  only  thing  that  I  heard  was  a  woman  singing, 
and  in  her  song  she  used  these  words,  '//f/'AwMV,  at  the  home  of  Doii- 
danegen,  ha'howe,  T  am  going  to  .seek  a  young  person,  a  nuile, 
ha'hoirc.''  "  Then  the  ne])hew  ceased  talking.  It  so  came  to  pass  that 
this  time  the  uncle  did  not  use  a  bai'k  i)a<l(lle  to  (ii]i  u])  lu)t  ashes  and 
l)uriiing  coals  to  pour  on  the  head  of  liis  nephew.  lie  did  not  scorch 
iiim.  "It  is  a  fact,  indeed,  the  woman  conies  naming  me  as  the  ob- 
ject of  her  coming,  and  that  is  why  she  comes  saying  on  the  way, 
'  Doiidanegen.'  A'erily,  as  you  know,  that  is  my  name.  So,  now,  do 
you  go  thither  again  to  listen  again  for  strange  sounds,  for  she  is, 
perhaps,  now  nearing  this  place." 

Then  the  nephew,  Ilotkwisdadegeha,  returned  to  the  \  alley  to  li.->ten 
again.  He  found  that  the  singing  was  approaching  ([uite  near  to  the 
place  where  he  was  listening.  Suddeidy  it  sto])ped.  and  the  voice  of 
a  woman  began  to  sing:  '"''  Ildlwirc^  Juchoirc.  h(Chowe,  at  the  home 
of  Doiidanegen,  ha^howe,  I  go  to  seek  the  person  of  a  young  man, 
ha-hoire,  haf'ho-we.^''  The  nephew  sprang  up.  and  turning  homeward, 
ran  back  there  as  swiftly  as  it  was  ])o.ssible  for  him  to  run.  Arrivmg 
there  he  exclaimed:  "  BeiioM.  tbe  singing  is,  indeed,  now-  close  at 
hand,  just  a  short  distance  avva\'."" 

Tliereupon  the  uncle  ai-ose  and  bi'gan  to  clean  u|)  the  lodge,  sweep- 
ing ail  manner  of  dirt  and  tilth  over  to  the  place  where  his  nephew 
was  accustomed  to  stay.  Tlien  the  uncle  bade  the  young  man  sit 
down  in  that  i)lace  among  the  dirt  and  tilth.  Tlie  entire  heail  of  the 
nephew  was  covered  with  scabs  ami  sores.  ( )n  the  oilier  liand,  the 
old  uncle  cleaned  himself  u]i  as  well  as  he  could.  He  spread  furs 
and  .skins  about  his  couch  and  seat  in  such  wise  as  to  ai)|)ear  to  be 
one  who  is  "downfended,"  one  who  is  a  noble  in  the  family.  He 
carefidly  washed  his  feather  plumes,  which  had  become  smoked  and 


746  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [eth.  anx,  33 

dusty  from  disuse  and  from  lying  around  among  his  belongings. 
When  they  were  nicely  cleaned  he  preened  them,  and  then,  taking  his 
headgear,  he  set  those  feathers,  two  in  number,  side  by  side  in  the 
front  of  it.  "Wlien  he  had  finished  this  task  he  put  the  headgear  back 
in  the  bark  case  containing  his  various  belongings.  In  like  manner 
he  cleaned  and  furbished  up  all  his  raiment  and  arms  and  orna- 
ments. 

He  had  hardly  completed  his  renovations  and  cleaning  of  his 
belongings  when  suddenly  they  heard  a  woman  sing  not  far  away 
from  the  lodge.  In  the  song  the  woman  said:  ^'  II  a' ho  ice,  ka^howe, 
Juihmce,  I  am  seeking  the  body  of  a  young  male  person,  hc^hoice, 
ha'hoice.  It  is  He-who-Iistens,  He-who-listens,  ha-hoire,  ha^howe.'''' 
Then  the  uncle  said  to  his  nephew :  "  Oh,  my  nephew  !  now  you  must 
keep  very  quiet;  you  must  not  talk  nor  move  around."  Suddenly 
there  came  sounds  at  the  doorway,  which  seemed  to  be  the  footsteps 
of  two  women.  All  at  once  the  doorflap  was  thrust  aside,  and  a 
■woman  stepped  into  the  lodge  followed  by  another  woman,  and  there 
the  two  women  stood  in  the  lodge.  One  of  the  women  said :  "  Behold 
it  is  not  certain  on  which  side  of  the  fire  sits  Doiidanegeii.  Indeed, 
this  one  who  is  sitting  here  is  verily  not  the  one.  That  one  sitting 
in  yonder  place  is,  indeed,  the  one  who  is  called  Doadanegcfi.  This 
one  is  called  Hat'hondas  (i.  e.,  He-who-listens).  So,  as  long  as  you 
think  this  one  is  Doiidanegeii,  you  go  to  him;  but  I  myself  will  go 
to  that  one."  The  two  sisters  were  not  of  the  same  opinion  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  two  male  persons  before  them.  The  younger  desired 
to  go  to  one  of  the  men,  while  the  other  sister  wished  to  go  to  the 
other.  Now,  Doadanegen  overhearing  these  remarks  of  the  two  sis- 
ters, and  meanly  seeking  to  deceive  them  as  to  his  own  identity,  kept 
saying:  "This  is  the  right  side  of  the  fire.    Come  here." 

Finally,  the  younger  sister,  who  carried  the  marriage  bread  in  a 
large  basket  (which  women  customarily  carried  when  they  went  to  the 
lodges  of  men  to  seek  for  husbands),  going  over  to  the  place  where 
Hafhondas  sat,  took  a  seat  beside  him.  All  at  once  the  elder  woman 
also  ran  in  that  direction  and  took  her  seat  beside  him.  So  each 
woman  now  sat  on  one  side  of  him. 

Then  the  imcle,  Doadanegen,  went  over  to  the  place  where  the 
three  were  sitting,  and  seizing  the  hand  of  his  nephew,  pushed  the 
youth  away  across  the  fire,  ordering  him  to  remain  there.  He  him- 
self took  the  seat  between  the  two  maidens.  But  they  both  arose  at 
once  and  went  to  the  place  where  Hat'hondas  was  then  seated  and 
again  sat  down  on  each  side  of  him.  Now  the  old  man  again  arose, 
and  going  over  to  the  place  where  the  three  were  seated  he  seized  the 
young  man.  his  nephew,  by  the  arm  and  shoved  him  across  the  fire- 
place to  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  while  he  once  more  seated  himself 
between  the  maidens.     But  as  the  maidens  did  not  come  to  marrv 


;ii;^;'A:]  legends  747 

him  they  again  arose  qnickly  and,  leaving;  flie  olil  man,  wont  over  to 
the  phice  where  the  young  man  was  and  sat  ilown  on  each  side  of  liini. 

The  old  man  did  not  repeat  his  previovis  actions.  Imt  lie  sat  silent 
for  a  long  time.  At  last  the  old  man.  addressing  his  nephew,  said: 
'•()h,  my  nephew!  now  verily  you  will  marry.  I  will  make  the 
pi()|ier  arrangements  and  will  ])iit  in  order  the  place  whcic  yini  are 
acciistometl  to  seat  youi-selt'.  because  it  is  so  very  iilthy  and  dirty, 
since  you  are  foolish  and  do  filthy  things  in  the  jjlace  where  you  are 
accustomed  to  abide."  l>ut  it  was  he  himself  a\  ho  had  swept  all 
manner  of  flirt  and  tilth  over  the  ])lace  and  on  the  things  belonging 
to  his  young  nephew  and  so  had  disgustingly  soiled  them.  The 
uncle  ad<led:  "For  a  while  seat  yourselves  here  in  this  ])lace  while 
I  clean  and  renovate  the  ])hice  and  things  behmgiug  to  my  ne])hew." 

Then  he  [)roceeded  to  clean  up  the  things  and  to  make  them  fine 
in  appearance,  for  he  carefully  swept  and  dusted  everything  behmg- 
iug to  his  ne])hew.  .V  bearskin  and  a  deerskin  and  a  beaver  skin  he 
earefidly  spread  over  the  coi:ch  of  his  nejihew  and  caused  the  latter 
to  bo  C()\ered  entirely  with   furs  and  skins. 

The  two  maidens  again  took  their  seats  beside  him  as  his  wives, 
for  he  indeecl  married  them.  Tlien  the  uncle  said  to  his  nephew: 
"  Xow  you  have  married.  Come,  now,  I  do  not  know  whether  these 
two  women  ha\e  brought  with  them  that  which  confirms  customarily 
the  marriage  of  ])eople  one  to  another,  which  usually  is  20  loaves  of 
marriage  bread,  conimouly  called  by  the  .'^enei-a  di  t/nri/i' It-i'iistf/r'/'ifo" .'^ 
( )ne  of  the  women,  reiilying.  said  :  "  So  let  it  be  as  you  have  indicated."' 
Taking  up  the  basket  and  going  over  to  the  ]ilace  where  he  sat.  she 
said:  ■•  These  ;ire  the  things  of  whi<ii  you  are  telling.""  ami  placeil 
the  bask'et  between  his  feet.  lie  just  ke])t  his  eyes  on  the  proceedings 
while  the  woman  returned  to  her  seat.  The  uncle  imcovered  the 
basket  of  marriage  bread  and  took'  from  it  the  •_'<>  loaves  of  marriage 
bread,  saying  with  some  warmth:  "  'I'he  matter  has  been  fulfilled,  for 
she  has  given  me  the  marriage  l>read.  which  has  confirmed  the  matter. 
It  certainly  has  been  fulfilled  according  to  the  custom  of  marrying."" 

Now  the  head  of  Hat'liomlas.  his  nephew,  was  literally  covere(l 
with  sores  and  scabs,  so  the  uncle  said  to  him:  "t)h.  my  nephew  I 
come  hither.  Come  I"  The  nephew  went  oxer  to  where  his  unrle 
was  sitting,  wheretipon  the  old  man  said:  "T  am  going  to  attend  to 
you  for  the  jiurpose  of  dressing  you  and  cleaning  you.""  Near  at  hand 
hung  the  bhuldei'  of  a  b(>ar.  in  which  there  was  a  (luantity  of  sunflower 
oil.  or  butter.  Out  of  this  receptacle  he  took  a  <|uantity  of  the  sun- 
flower oil.  or  butter,  in  the  palm  of  his  hand  and  aliointed  the  head  of 
his  ne])hew  with  it.  He  repeated  this  act  luitil  he  had  completely 
saturateil  the  hair  with  the  sunflower  oil.  Further,  he  ])oured  three 
handfuls  of  the  simllower  oil  on  his  ne|)hew's  head.  The  two  young 
women,  who  inerelv  looked  on.  oidv  marveled  at  what  thev  saw.     .Vll 


748  SEXECA    FICTIOX,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etii.  anx.  33 

at  once  they  saw  the  uncle  remove  a  cap  of  scabs  from  the  head  of  his 
nephew.  No  more  scabs  were  left  on  his  head,  which  now  looked 
clean  and  handsome. 

It  happened  that  on  the  young  man's  forehead  two  feathers  stuck 
out,  which  were  set  side  by  side,  one  red  and  the  other  blue.  These, 
which  were  set  side  by  side,  were  about  so  long  [indicating  with  the 
hand].  The  old  man  said  to  his  nephew;  "This  ornamentation  is 
very  unbecoming":  so  he  pulled  first  the  one  feather  and  then  the 
other.  Then  he  said :  "  This  is  fine.  Go  over  to  that  place,  and  there 
you  must  stand,  facing  this  way.  I  will  look  at  you,  for  I  do  not 
know  how  handsome  you  are."  The  young  man  went  to  the  place 
indicated  and  faced  his  uncle.  The  latter  eyed  him  carefully  and 
critically  as  he  stood  there  under  review.  Suddenly  the  old  man  said : 
"  Come  hither.  Come  back  here  again.  I  am  not  at  all  satisfied." 
When  the  nephew  had  come  up  to  him  the  uncle  again  poured  sun- 
flower oil  into  the  palm  of  his  hand,  with  which  he  carefully  anointed 
the  face  of  his  nephew.  Then  he  said :  "  Again  go  to  that  place  and 
face  me  again."'  The  nephew  again  went  there  and  faced  his  uncle. 
Once  more  the  old  man  critically  eyed  his  nephew,  finally  exclaim- 
ing, "  You  are  such  a  fine-looking  young  man  that  there  is  nowhere 
living  another  young  man  as  handsome.  Now  come  to  me.  This  is 
what  you  shall  be  named:  Doiidanegeii  you  shall  be  called;  and  in 
all  the  distant  places  where  people  dwell  the  sound  has  gone,  saying 
of  you, '  He  is  the  great  hunter  of  all  kinds  of  animals.'  Your  name 
is  one  which  is  obeyed,  and  which  is  heard  in  distant  places  of  the 
land.  Again  take  your  seat  in  yonder  place."  So  the  nephew  re- 
sumed his  seat. 

Then  one  of  the  two  women,  the  elder,  said :  "  I  am  exceedingly 
thankful  that  our  husband  is  so  fine-looking  a  man."  To  this  the 
younger  answered :  "As  to  me,  I  will  cherish  him.  I  myself  will  love 
him.  I  will  do  only  whatever  it  may  be  that  he  sees  fit  to  ask  me  to 
do."  When  night  came  on  they  lay  down  to  sleep,  the  young  man 
lying  down  between  the  two  women,  so  that  Hat'hondas  had  a  wife  on 
each  side.  It  now  came  to  pass  that  the  elder  one  could  not  fall 
asleep.  Hat'hondas.  however,  was  fast  asleep,  and  she  most  of  the 
time  kept  looking  at  him  as  he  lay  asleep.  As  to  the  other  wife,  she 
was  sound  asleep,  indeed.  Daylight  came,  and  the  elder  one  had  not 
slept  at  all  during  the  entire  night.  Then  the  two  sisters  set  to  work 
preparing  their  morning  meal.  So,  as  soon  as  the  food  was  cooked 
they  began  to  eat  it:  and  they  took  up  a  share  for  the  old  man.  who 
sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire.  They  themselves  ate  together  on 
their  own  side  of  the  fire — Doadanegen  and  his  wives. 

When  all  had  finished  eating  the  old  man  said:  "  Oh,  my  nephew ! 
you  must  begin  to  travel  over  the  earth.  You  must  be  very  circum- 
spect and  careful  because  there  are  traveling  about  many  kinds  of 


S--y  LEGENDS  749 

beings  which  aie  full  of  tlio  liigiii'st  potency  of  evil  orenda.  ^  on 
must  go  out  to  hunt  for  any  kind  of  game  animals,  it  may  be.  It  is 
possible  for  you  to  kill  them,  it  is  true,  for  you  are  not  susceptible  to 
the  influence  of  evil  orenda."  So  the  nephew  started  out  to  hunt. 
He  remarked  to  himself:  "  I  wdiidci-  wlicthiT  what  my  uncle  said  is 
true,  indeed.     1  will  begin  with  laccoons." 

As  he  went  along  he  saw  a  standing  tree  greatly  scarred  with  claw 
marks.  Climbing  this  tree  he  found  a  nest  of  raccoons.  From  this 
he  ])ulled  out  a  raccoon,  which  he  threw  down;  then  taking  out 
another  raccoon  he  threw  it  also  to  the  gi-ound,  and  then  another 
and  anotlier.  Finally  he  said:  "I  do  think  these  will  do."  He  now 
descended  from  the  ti-ee,  and  when  he  reached  the  ground  he  said: 
"  1  am,  perhaps,  strong  enough  to  carry  these  bodies  home  on  my 
back  by  means  of  tlie  forciicad  -tiaj)."  So  he  set  to  work  packing 
the  bo<lies  into  a  biimlle,  by  laying  down  his  forehead  strap  and 
placing  the  bodies  of  the  raccoons  on  it  and  then  binding  the  ends 
of  the  strap  around  thcni  in  such  manner  as  to  make  a  closely  bound 
bundle.  When  he  liad  conijdeted  tliis  task  he  took  up  the  pack  and 
placed  it  on  his  back  in  such  wise  tliat  he  carried  it  by  means  of  the 
forehead  strap,  as  was  the  custom  at  that  time.  Then  he  started  for 
home.  With  the  Inmdle  on  his  back  he  reached  his  home.  Casting 
the  bundle  down  indoors,  he  said:  "Oh,  my  uncle!  dress  these,  if  you 
will." 

Then,  truly,  the  old  man  set  to  work  dressing  the  raccoons,  ex- 
claiming: '"//(>',  my  nei)hew  !  All  has  hapj^'ned  for  good.  Ever 
since  you  were  small  I  have  been  attending  to  you.  As  you  wci-e 
growing  up  I  took  care  of  you  and  I  pitied  you.  Now,  in  turn,  you 
have  grown  to  manhood.  So  it  is.  I  have  been  accustomed  to  thiidc 
that  this  would  come  to  ])ass.  Now  these  Ijodies  lie  here  as  a  ful- 
lillment  of  my  hopes:  so  I  am  very  thankful." 

Tiien  the  old  man  skinned  tlie  raccoons,  and  when  he  had  com- 
pleted his  task  he  said,  tlelightedly :  "With  these  skins  I  will  make 
for  myself  ;i  robe.  Vou  must  go  to  hunt  again.  These  things  are 
to  be  cooked  in  only  one  way;  they  must  be  cooked  by  being  boiled 
down."  lie  told  this  to  the  two  wives  of  his  nephew,  asking  them 
whether  that  was  not  tlie  rigiit  way  of  cooking  raccoons.  Then  the 
two  women,  arising,  proceeded  to  dress  the  raccoons.  When  they 
had  dre.ssed  them  they  .set  the  kettle  over  the  fire  and  started  tlie 
raccoon  meat  to  cooking,  '\^'hen  it  was  cooked  it  was  indeed  boiled 
down  in  the  numner  sugirested  l)y  the  old  man.  Then  the  two  women 
placed  the  meat  on  i)ark  trays,  and  all  began  to  eat.  The  old  man 
kept  on  saying:  ^^IhV .  T  am  thankful,  thankful,  thankful." 

The  next  morning  Doiidanegeu  again  went  forth  to  hunt.  .\s  he 
traveled  through  the  forest  he  finally  came  to  a  tree  all  over  the  out- 
side of  which  he  saw  manv  daw  marks.     Hence  he  decided  to  cliinl) 


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

it  to  see  whether  there  was  any  game  in  the  hollow  of  the  trunk. 
As  on  the  former  trip,  he  found  raccoong  in  the  hollow  of  the  tree, 
which  he  proceeded  to  drag  out.  He  would  put  his  arm  into  the 
hollow  of  the  rotten  old  tree,  drag  out  a  raccoon,  and  throw  it  to  the 
ground,  repeating  this  process  until  he  had  thus  dragged  forth  six 
or  seven  raccoons.  Then  exclaiming  "  I  believe  that  I  have  now 
killed  a  sufficient  number,"  he  again  descended  the  tree  to  the  ground. 
Again  he  laid  out  his  forehead  strap,  whereon  he  placed  the  bodies  of 
the  raccoons  which  he  had  killed.  They  made  a  large  load.  He  bound 
the  bodies  into  a  bundle  ready  to  carry.  Placing  this  on  his  back 
so  that  he  could  carry  it  by  means  of  his  forehead  strap,  he  again 
started  for  the  lodge  of  his  family.  Having  returned  home,  he  laid 
his  pack  down  indoors,  before  the  place  where  sat  his  uncle,  wlio 
could  onh'  exclaim:  "77r7'/  I  am  so  tluinkful;  h'/ 1  I  am  so  thankful. 
Perhaps,  now,  I  can  complete  my  robe  with  these  eight  skins."  Then 
the  old  man  skinned  them,  and  when  he  had  completed  this  task  he 
proceeded  to  stretch  and  dry  the  skins  in  the  usual  manner  on  frames 
of  woollen  sticks.  As  soon  as  they  were  dried  he  made  himself  a 
robe,  which  was  very  beautiful  when  he  had  completed  it.  So  it  came 
to  pass  that  he  had  a  raccoon-skin  robe  with  which  to  cover  himself. 

Continually,  indeed,  did  the  two  women  cook  and  prepare  food 
for  the  family,  and  all  lived  in  the  greatest  contentment.  It  came 
to  pass  that  the  elder  sister  said  to  the  younger:  "  Let  us  go  to  fetch 
wood,  for  it  is  the  custom  for  those  who  are  living  in  their  husband's 
lodge  to  gather  wood."  They  two  then  went  forth  from  the  lodge 
toward  the  neighboring  forest.  There  they  saw  a  standing  tree  which 
appeared  to  be  fit  for  their  purpose.  The  elder  carried  with  her  a 
round,  hard,  white  stone,  which  she  struck  against  the  tree,  making 
a  sound  which  was  heard  everywhere,  and  the  tree  fell  into  a  heap  of 
firewood.  The  two  women  proceeded  to  make  themselves  loads  by 
laying  together  the  strips  of  wood.  They  placed  thus  in  two  heaps 
the  whole  of  that  great  tree.  When  they  had  finished  their  packs, 
placing  tliem  on  their  backs,  the}'  started  for  home.  "VMien  they 
reached  the  doorway  they  separated,  and  standing  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  lodge,  they  untied  their  forehead  straps,  whereupon  their 
packs  fell  to  the  giound,  growing  into  such  great  heaps  that  the 
lodge  was  quite  surrounded  with  firewood.  Then  the  two  reentered 
the  lodge,  and  the  elder  said:  "One  who  is  in  the  lodge  of  her  hus- 
band's family  is  customarily  expert  in  preiiaring  wood."  This  she 
said  to  the  old  man.  the  uncle  of  her  husband.  The  old  man  replied: 
''Ho'!  I  am  very  thankful." 

At  this  time  some  women  who  lived  in  a  distant  place  learned 
that  Doiidancgen  had  grown  to  manlujod.  There  were  four  per- 
sons in  this  family  of  women — a  mother  and  her  three  daughters. 


Z'I^tt]  legends  751 

Till'  mother,  addressing  her  daughters,  said:  "Now,  my  ehildren, 
you  must  go  after  him  to  secure  him  for  a  husband.  And  yoti, 
the  eldest,  shall  be  the  first  to  go  in  (juest  of  him."  Then  the  three 
daughters  commenced  to  make  the  marriage  l)read  {dcganahonsdya''- 
f/o").  They  began  their  task  by  ])re])aring  the  flour  corn  by  boiling  in 
ashes  to  loosen  the  husk  of  the  grains,  aftei'wards  washing  tiie  grains 
in  clean  water  and  pounding  the  corn  into  meal  in  a  wooden  murtar 
with  pestles  of  wood.  The  three  sisters  united  their  labors  in  the 
j^reparation  of  this  bread.  The  sounds  made  by  the  pestles  were 
/«',  tu\  tir,  fu',  fir.  It  was  not  long  before  they  had  i)repared  the 
needed  '20  cakes  of  marriage  bread. 

When  the  bread  was  ready  it  was  plac('<l  in  a  basket  made  for 
cai'rying  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap.  Tiion  the  iiicitiirr  said  to 
the  eldest  daughter:  "Come  to  me."  The  daugiitcr  obeyed  her.  and 
the  mother  began  to  comb  her  hair;  she  also  anointed  it  with  oil  of 
a  fine  smell.  Then  she  braided  her  hair,  tying  it  so  close  with  a 
string  that  the  eyebrows  weie  tlrawn  up  to  the  extent  that  the  eye- 
sockets  had  quite  disappeared.  Then  the  mother  said  to  her 
daughter  art'ectioiuitely :  "Now,  go  you  to  tiiat  distant  ]ilari"  where 
Doiidaiiegefi  moves,  and  I  e.xpect  that  by  all  means  you  will  bring 
him  back  with  you.  Have  courage.  Very  certainly  it  is  safe,  that 
by  which  you  shall  ci'oss  this  lake."  Then  she  ]ilaced  the  bask'et  of 
bread  on  her  daughter's  back  so  that  it  might  be  cari-ied  by  means  of 
the  forehead  straj). 

'J'hereupdii  tlu'  eldest  daughter  started  away.  Having  indeed 
arrived  at  the  settlement  in  which  dwelt  Doiidanegen.  she  took  posi- 
tion a  long  distance  from  his  lodge  aiul  watched  for  him  a  very 
long  time,  but  was  not  able  to  see  him.  Suddenly,  Doiidanegen  came 
out  of  his  lodge  and  looked  aroimd.  The  young  woman  was  just 
a  short  distance  aside,  watching  him.  Then  he  started  on  his  hunt- 
ing trip,  foi-  he  had  not  detected  the  presence  of  the  3'oung  woman. 
She  kejit  her  eyes  on  him  as  he  walked  away  and  finally  disappeared 
in  the  distance.  Swiftly  now  the  young  woman  ])ursued  him  with 
the  determination  of  finding  him.  She  had  followed  him  a  very  long 
distance  when  suddeidy.  as  she  ke]it  looking  ahead,  she  saw  him 
climbing  a  large  ti'ce.  doing  toward  that  tree  undetected,  not  far 
from  it  she  stopped  still.  The  raccoons  were  coming  out  one  after 
another  with  great  i-apidity  and  verily  there  was  a  high  i)ile  of 
bodies.  The  maiden  stood  there  watching  Doiidanegen  at  work. 
Moving  lip  close  to  the  ti'ee.  she  exclaimeil :  "Do  you  come  down 
again  from  the  ti-ee.  Perhijps  you  are  now  bringing  down  the  last 
one."  But  all  at  once  a  yellow  hannuer  cried  out  A'^v'"',  /i:;/v'"', 
kwe"^,  and  she  saw  it  fiying  along  the  edge  of  the  forest,  crying  us  it 
flew.     In  bitter  chagrin  the  maid  exclaimed:  "Oh,  how   provoking 


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

it  is !  Doadanegefi  has  made  me  angry,"  and  taking  from  her  back 
the  basket  of  marriage  bread,  consisting  of  20  cakes,  she  emptied 
the  basket  to  one  side  of  her  and  then  started  homeward. 

Having  reached  her  home,  where  her  sisters  and  her  mother 
awaited  her,  she  was  asked  by  the  latter:  "Well,  what  has  hap- 
pened so  serious  that  you  have  returned  without  bringing  him  ^  " 
The  young  woman  replied :  "  I  have  not  the  ability  to  do  anything 
with  him.  because,  I  think,  he  is  immune  from  my  orenda — he  is, 
indeed,  immune  to  enchantment."  The  mother  answered:  "Truly 
I  do  not  depend  on  you  because  you  are  so  incapable,  so  weak  (in 
orenda).  So  now  my  youngest  daughter  shall  go,  for  truly  I  do 
depend  on  her  so  much.  Now,  then,  do  you  prepare  the  basket  of 
marriage  bread,  which  must  consist  of  20  cakes." 

With  a  cry  of  "  Come,  now,"  they  set  to  work  pounding  the  corn 
into  meal,  and  after  making  the  meal  into  20  cakes  they  boiled 
them,  and  when  they  were  cooked  they  placed  them  in  a  basket  suit- 
able for  the  purpose.  Then  her  mother  set  to  work  dressing  the  hair 
of  her  youngest  daughter;  she  oiled  it  with  fine  bear's  grease  and 
braided  it  into  many  fine  braids.  She  braided  it  very  close  and 
wrapped  the  braids  so  tight  that  the  maiden  seemed  not  to  have  any 
cj'ebrows  left.  When  the  mother  had  finished  the  task  of  dressing 
her  daughter  and  had  instructed  her  as  to  what  she  should  do  to 
insure  success  on  her  way,  the  basket  of  marriage  bread  was  placed 
on  the  young  woman's  back.  Finally  her  mother  said  to  her:  '*  Have 
courage.  You  certainly  are  able  to  conquer  him.  I  depend  on  you 
to  bring  Doiidanegen  back  with  you." 

Then  the  young  woman  started  on  her  journey.  She  carried  the 
basket  on  her  back  by  means  of  the  forehead  strap.  Finally  she 
reached  the  settlement  to  which  she  had  been  sent.  There,  not  far 
away  from  the  lodge  of  her  intended  victim,  she  concealed  herself 
in  various  places  the  better  to  keep  a  watch  on  the  lodge.  She  hid 
from  place  to  place  for  a  long  time  without  seeing  her  victim.  But 
finally  she  was  surprised  to  see  him  come  out  of  the  lodge  and  after 
looking  around  very  carefully  start  away.  She  tracked  him,  and 
after  pursuing  him  for  a  long  time  she  saw  him  in  the  distance  high 
up  in  a  tall  tree.  She  concealed  her  presence  from  him  as  best  she 
knew  how.  She  would  get  behind  a  tree  and  move  nearer  the  tree 
on  whiL-h  her  victim  was.  Then,  slipping  quickly  around  another, 
she  kept  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  him,  for  she  was  determined 
to  conquer  him.  Finally  she  reached  the  tree  without  being  perceived 
and  there  she  sat  down,  leaning  against,  the  tree.  She  placed  there 
beside  her  the  basket  of  marriage  bread.  She  saw  the  raccoons  fall- 
ing down  one  after  another  without  interruption.  For  a  long  time 
she-  remained  there  very  quiet.  Meanwhile  Doiidanegen  looked 
around  suspiciously,  first  taking  in  the  entire  horizon  and  then  the 


Z'iy^T';]  LEGENDS  753 

grouiiil  hclow;  tlioii  lie  (lc--oc'ink'(I  llii'  tri'O  very  slowly,  until  liiially 
he  roaciicil  the  (iroiiiul  on  the  side  opposite  the  spot  where  the  young 
woniuii  was  sitting.  At  this  time  the  maiden,  (iiiickly  arising,  went 
swiftly  around  the  tree  tx)  the  place  where  Doiidanegen  stood.  Jle 
could  do  nothing  to  escape.  Jle  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  of  defeat 
and  was  asttinished  to  .see  how  beaulifid  the  maiden  was.  She  was, 
indeed,  far  prettier  than  his  wi\es  were,  although  they,  too,  were 
fine  looking.  Then  the  victorious  maiden  said  to  him  :  "  J\est  yc^itii'self. 
Perhaps  you  are  tired,  for  you  lune  been  continually'  climbing  high 
up  in  the  trees.  You  must  sit  down  and  rest  your  head  in  my  lap, 
and  I  will  ilress  youi-  hair.  '^ On  nnist  face  me  when  you  sit  in 
front  of  me." 

iSo  Doiidanegen  took  the  seal  indicated  liy  the  young  woman, 
placing  his  heail  in  iu  r  lap.  She  ri'moxed  tiie  vermin  and  snarls 
from  his  hair,  being  at  tliis  task  a  long  time.  So,  indeed,  the  young 
man  fell  asleeji,  and,  perhaps,  she  cau.sed  iiim  to  sleep  soundly. 
Finally,  she  said  to  him  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Well,  awake  thou,"  where- 
upon all  his  membei-s  moved.  Then  she  placed  him  in  her  bag  and 
cm])tie(l  her  basket  of  marriage  bread.  Then,  after  fastening  a  fore 
Lead  strap  to  her  pack,  she  placed  it  on  lur  back,  carrying  it  by 
means  of  the  strap.  It  was  very  heavy,  anil  he  was  asleep.  Far 
away  from  the  place  where  she  had  conquered  hini  there  was  a  verv 
steep  rock.  On  this  the  young  woman  seated  herself  and  proceeded 
to  "unwrap  her  pack.  She  bound  a  band  around  the  head  of  t!ie 
young  man;  then  .she  called  to  him,  saying,  ''.Vwake  llioul"  Sjio 
u.sed  all  her  might  of  voit^e  in  saying  again,  '"Awake  thou  !  " 

Suddeidy  the  young  man  awoke,  and  the  young  woman  s;iid  to 
him:  "Dost  thou  recognize  this  place'"  lie  looked  around  to  see 
whether  he  had  any  knowledge  of  the  place,  and  said  in  reply:  "I 
know  this  place.  Here  is  where  my  uncle  and  myself  take  the  moose 
while  out  hiuiting."'  Answering  him,  the  maiden  rejjlied:  "It  is 
true.  ^  (HI  do  know  this  place.  I  think  that,  perhaps,  I  can  not  do 
better  than  to  hunt  the  vermin  in  your  head  again.  Again  you  must 
face  the  place  you  did  once  before."'  So  he  sat  down  facing  the 
young  woman,  resting  his  head  in  her  hi}).  The  young  woman  again 
searcheil  his  head  for  vermin,  while  he  meekly  faced  her  person. 

Again  he  fell  aslee]),  and  again  his  sleep  was  very  sound,  so  truly, 
when  the  young  woman  again  .said,  "Awake  thou  I  "  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  awake.  Again  she  wraitped  him  in  her  bag.  which  she 
took  on  her  back  again,  carrying  the  pack  l)V  means  of  the  forehead 
strap.  She  then  started  for  home.  Arriving  at  the  shore  of  the  lake, 
she  again  awakened  him,  saying  to  him,  "Awake  thou  I  "  But  it 
was  a  very  long  time  before  he  awoke.  When  he  did  so,  she  said  to 
him:  "Well,  dost  thou  know  this  placed"'  After  looking  around  a 
0401.-,"— 30 48 


754  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etii.  a\n.  32 

while,  he  replied :  "  I  recognize  this  place.  It  is  here  that  my  uncle 
and  myself  engage  in  fishing."  She  replied  merely :  "  So  be  it.  Now 
again  I  will  search  for  vermin  in  your  head,  and  again  thou  must 
face  the  same  place  that  thou  didst  the  last  time  I  cleaned  thy  head." 
So  she  again  searched  for  vermin  in  his  head.  It  was  not  very  long 
before  he  again  was  fast  asleep  with  his  head  on  the  lap  of  the  young 
woman.  Thereupon  she  bound  him  up  once  more  in  her  bag  and 
again  placed  the  pack  on  her  back,  carrying  it  by  means  of  the  fore- 
head strap. 

"NMien  she  arrived  at  the  place  wherein  abode  her  sisters  and 
mother  they  were  surprised  that  she  returned  carrying  a  pack  on 
her  back.  Throwing  the  pack  on  the  ground  in  the  lodge,  she  said 
to  her  mother  and  sisters,  "  Verily,  Doadanegeu  is  contained  in  the 
pack.  Do  you  now  take  him  out  of  it."'  Then  her  mother  said  to 
her,  "  Oh,  my  daughter !  I  am  thankful  that  the  matter  has  been 
accomplished,  becaus;*  I  depend  on  you."  Then,  addressing  herself 
to  the  sleeping  young  man,  she  said :  "  Oh.  my  son-in-law,  awake 
thou !"'  but  it  was  a  very  long  time  before  he  awoke.  He  arose,  and 
going  aside,  took  a  seat  there.  He  was  greatly  surprised  by  the 
beauty  of  the  inmates  of  the  lodge  and  their  mother,  too.  When 
night  came  on  Doiidanegen  shared  the  bed  of  the  young  woman  who 
had  brought  him  back  with  her. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  next  day,  the  younger  one  of  his  wives 
said  to  her  elder  sister :  "  These  women  who  live  far  from  her?  have 
taken  our  husband  away  from  us;  it  is  they  who  have  conquered 
him.  Now.  I  will  now  go  after  him.  You  must  remain  with  the 
old  man,  his  uncle."  Thereupon  the  old  man  began  to  weep  be- 
cause he  did  not  know  wliere  his  nephew  was.  He  lamented,  saying 
•'  Ud'cj^^  Jui'gf,  gi' ;  10  years  will  pass  before  I  shall  give  him  up, 
Art'///'." 

Then  the  younger  wife  started,  saying:  ''I  will  go  to  fetch  him 
back  home."  So  she  departed,  leaving  her  elder  sister  to  remain 
with  the  uncle  of  Doiidanegeii.  Finally  she  arrived  at  the  tree  in 
which  her  husband  was  accustomed  to  hunt  for  raccoons.  She  could 
see  plainly  the  trail  left  by  the  woman  who  had  accomplished  his 
seduction  and  then  carried  him  away.  Then  she  started  on  farther. 
Again  she  sang  the  song  in  which  she  used  the  following  words: 
"i/a'Aowj,  M'hoiri,  hd'h-owi;  I  am  going  to  hunt  for  the  person, 
h(fhoici,  h<?kotr/,  of  Doiidanegen  wherever  he  may  be,  k/i'hou'i, 
hd^hou'l,  I  am  going  to  hunt  for  the  person  of  Hat'hon'das  (The 
Obedient),  c'  (""'At"'."     Thus  she  traveled  on. 

At  last  she  reached  the  settlement  in  which  lived  the  wicked  four 
women,  the  mother  and  her  three  daughters.  She  was  surprised  to 
see  a  short  distance  away  the  lodge  she  was  seeking.  She  stood 
there  for  a  moment,  listening  verv  intentlv  for  any  sounds  that  she 


Z^^^'ri]  LEGENDS  755 

might  !)('  alile  to  \w.\v  fnun  tlic  lodf^o.  Slic  was  irrcatlv  snr])ris-,'(l  to 
Ileal-  lii'i-  liiihihaiid  tliiMciii  w cfpiiiii:;  .slie  recofiiii/.i'd  his  voice.  At 
oiue  siio  rushed  i'orw  aid  to  the  side  of  tlic  hxlge,  and  peering  tlirougli 
the  c're\  ices  in  its  baric  walls  she  was  surprised  to  see  Doiidanegen 
standing  th;'ro  weeping  as  he  was  being  tortured  witli  fire.  'i"he 
mother  stood  there  holding  a  basket  in  her  hands,  at  the  same  time 
drawing  brands  out  of  the  fire,  with  whidi  tliey  touched  their  victim 
around  tlie  ears,  causing  him  to  weep.  Tlio  tears  which  he  shed  wei'e 
\vami)Uin  i)eads.  which  were  cauglit  on  a  buclvsivin  spread  out  on  tlie 
ground  for  tlie  ])urpose.  Then  the  old  woman  would  gather  the 
beads  into  her  basket. 

llis  wife  saw  this  taking  ])lace — a  pro\'oking  sight— and  witliouL 
any  thought  of  what  was  going  on  and  regardless  of  any  fear  as  to 
conse(|uences  she  rushed  into  the  lodge  and,  seizing  her  husljand, 
drew  him  out  of  the  lodge.  As  soon  as  they  had  come  out  she  called 
in  a  loud  voice  :  "  Hither  do  ye  come,  you  lnax  c  ones,  my  own  guardian 
beings,  ye  small  hniiiining  biiils."  And  they  two,  wife  and  husband, 
quickly  r;ui  around  the  lodge,  (he  w  i  i'l-  sliouliug  exultingly,  "Let 
no  ])erson  whatsoever  escape  from  the  lo<lge.  no  matter  how  great 
a  wizard  he  or  she  may  be;  let  the  top  and  the  bottom  and  the  sides 
of  the  lodge  be  t'losed  up.  and  let  the  lodg(>.  become  reel  hot.  Have 
courage,  my  guardian  beings,  lunc  couriige.''  These  c;ime  to  lier 
aid,  making  the  sound  tftnu'i'  w  bile  they  workcil.  Suddenlj-  the  lodge, 
burst  into  flames,  and  then  the  imprisoned  women  wept — the  unfortu- 
Jiate  mother  and  her  daughters.  Slowly  the  sounds  they  made  in 
their  frantic  ell'orts  to  escape  di<'d  away  to  .silence. 

Then  the  young  wife  said  to  her  husband,  "  .Now,  let  us  go  to  our 
home."'  So  they  started:  but  the  husband  could  scai'cely  walk  be- 
cause he  had  been  so  cruelly  torlure<l.  Finally  they  reached  the 
lake,  whereupon  the  young  wife  said.  "  Hither  do  thou  come  to  gi\e 
us  aid,  thou  the  great  leech,  as  thou  art  calleil."  .lust  then  they  saw 
it  make  its  appearance  above  the  wati'i-  in  the  middle  of  the  lake. 
It  was  not  long  before  it  caiue  U])  to  the  place  where  they  two  were 
.standing,  llien  the  young  woman  said  to  it.  ''  Do  you  hel|)  us  two, 
for  we  are  to  be  pilie(l,  my  husband  and  myself.  He  is  jiamed 
Doiidanegen,  a  famous  name.  We  two  will  mount  on  your  back,  so 
now  make  a  sti'aight  course  for  the  place  whence  we  two  have 
departed."  The  great  leech,  obeying  the  young  womaiTs  command, 
bore  them  across  the  lake  to  their  own  shore.  Then  the  young  woman 
gratefully  thank-ed  it,  saying,  "  I  am  thankful,  and  I  make  1113' 
acknowledgments  to  you  for  aiding  us.    Now  you  are  again  fi-ee." 

So  husband  and  wife  returned  to  their  home  whence  they  had 
gone  on  this  ad\('nture.  A\'hen  they  had  arri\('d  near  the  lodge  the 
young  man  oxcrheard  his  uncle  weeping  within  it.  He  heard  him 
singing  his  lamentation,  "Oh.  my  nephew  I  my  ne])hew.  my  nephew. 


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

10  3'ears  will  be  the  limit  of  my  mourning  for  you.  It  will  be  10 
years  before  I  will  give  you  up."  In  addition  to  this  he  sat  near  the 
fire  and  was  engaged  in  dipping  up  with  a  paddle  burning  coals  and 
hot  ashes,  which  he  poured  on  the  top  of  his  head.  He  had,  indeed, 
already  burned  or  scorched  off  all  the  hair.  The  nephew  found  him 
only  half  alive.  When  the  nephew  entered  the  lodge  he  said  tenderly. 
"  Oh,  my  uncle !  I  have  now  returned  home."  But  the  wretched  old 
man  would  not  cease  his  weeping  and  self-humiliation.  Then  the 
nephew  grasped  the  old  man,  saying,  "  Oh,  my  uncle !  I  have  now 
returned  home.  It  is  I,  Doadanegeii,  who  have  returned  home." 
The  aged  uncle,  recognizing  his  nephew,  whom  he  believed  dead, 
exclaimed,  "  Wu  "  !  Is  it  indeed  you  i  I  am  thankful  that  you  have 
returned  home.  Do  not  hereafter  go  to  distant  places.  You  must 
remain  at  home  with  us.  You  can  hunt  in  places  which  are  not  far 
from  here,  because  now  the  time  is  at  hand  when  this  elder  one  of 
your  wives  is  about  to  become  a  mother,  so  you  must  be  near  her." 
This  is  the  story  of  Doiidanegen.    This  is  the  end  of  the  story. 

138.  The  Legend  of  Doa'dane'ge'*'  and  Hotrwisdadege""! 
Hodino°'sot     gi"o°'     ne"      ne"    Dooa'dane'g5°'     haya'so"     ne" 

Their  (an.)  lodge  it  is  Tliat        the.  Dooii'dane'gO"'  he  is  called,         the 

stands  said.  (it  isj  is  named 

luige°'dji.       Da'       ne"       na'e'       ne"     haksa"gowa,      ne"       ne" 

he,  the  old  one.         So  that  truly  (of  the  he,  the  youth,  that  the 

(it  is)  course)  large  child,  (it  is) 

haunwa°'de°'     Tkwisdadege°"a'       (i.  e.,  Hotkwisdadege°"a')       ne" 

his  nephew  Tlrwisdadeg<!'>"a'  i.  f.,  Holkwisdadegfi""*'-)  the 

ne"       haya'so".       Da'       o'ne"',       gi"o°',       yado'was       ne"     ne" 

that  he  is  called.  So  now,  it  is  said,  they  two  (n.)  that  the 

is  named.  (then)  kept  huntmg  (it  is) 

yadadl'wa''de°'.       Agwas'     skeii'no''',       gi"o"',       yenno°"donnyo'" 

they  two  (an.)  uncle  Verily,  (it)  peace  it  is  said,  Ihey  two  (nn.)  kept  on 

and  nephew  Indeed,  ttiiuking 

deni'dyo''"s'hoii.  Da'    diawe'>"o°'    o"wa'     hodi'go"    ne"       yadadl'- 

two  they  two  fa7i.)  So,  constantly,  it  meat         they  (masc.        the  they  two  (an.) 

dwelt'togelher.  (n.)  p/.)  it-ate. 

wa"de"'       Agwas'       aweiinotga'de'       he'onwe'        deni'dyo""s'hoii. 

uncle-neph-  Verily,  it  pleasant  (is)  there  where  two  they  two  (an.)  lived, 

ew  (are).  dwelt  together 

Ne'        kho'     de'gatga"ho'       sofi'ga'       de'enaii'ge'. 

Therein       and  not  anywhere  someone  not  one  (a7i.) 

that  place  (nowhere)  (an.)  dwells. 

Agwas'      o'yo'nis'he't,      gi"o'",      ne"ho'        niyo"den,       o'ne"" 

Verily.  it  remained  long,  it  is  said,  (there)  so  it  (n.)  state  now 

Indeed,  was  long  time,  thus  w,is,  (then) 

gi"o'",     ne"     hage°'dji    wai'eii',     "  Hrwa°de°',     o'ne"'     hE"onwe' 

it  is  said.        the         he,  the  old  one       he  it  said,       "  Oh.  my  nephew,        now,  i hen      there  where 

ho"se'         hi'geii  diyogoii'wande'.  Ne"ho'         he°sa'dyen' 

thither  that  it-is  there  it-lunate-streara-washed  There  thither  thou  wilt 

thou  go  blufl  (is).  seat  thyself 


cruTix,] 


LEGENDS 


ll^  i 


(^ns!ul!Ui"'di'yos-kho',       a'Ji'f^wri'      wiii''      ("'"sii'onk      ha'gwisdo"'.'' 

will-thy  ear  fine  make  (it)-auil,  wlialsoever  nfcourso    wilt  thou-it  hear  soinelhing." 

Gildo'gon      h!i"gwis<lc"'       e''sa'orik       liK'onwo'       hCsi'dyon'dak." 

It-cerlain  is  somettiintj  will  thou-ii-iioar       tlioro  wtuTp       thore  wilt  thou  be  ahidin^." 

Da'       o'no"',       gi"o"',       wan'Mcndi'       tie''       irotk\vi,s(l!i(l('gc''''a' 

So  now,  (then)         it  is  said,        he  started,  departed,      the  lIotkwisd:uioK'"-"M'" 

iic''h()'     wsi'ho"    hK'oiiwo'    dyogonwan'de'.     Da'     (ie'aoiiis'h('"()n' 

there  tliilherho         there  where         there  it -Innaie-st ream-        So  not  it  (/'n-s  a  lon^ 


o'n6"', 

now 
(then) 


Ihilhor  ho 
went 

gi".)"', 

it  is  said. 


waslieil  IjIuiI  (is) 


no' 'ho' 

there 


n' 


waa  yi) 

did  he  arrive. 


Da' 

So 


o  ne°', 

now 
(then) 


gl    o"-, 
it  is  said. 


dagas'jiye't  lit;"    o'o'wa',''     gi''on',     wai'i';n' 

thence  it  sjjoke       the  owl."  it  is  said,      did  he-it  say 


lie      gwa  ,    war 

That       only,  triilv. 

(it  is) 

"     haunwa'"de""      ne"     IIotk\visda<legc""&' 

Hotkwis(iade(,'r"if. 


no 

the  hi.s-nephew                 the 

Da'  o'ng'"      diq'      ne" 

So  now            besides          the 
(then) 

ho'gwa  wfia'yen'        ne" 

aside  did  he-it  lay             the 


hono"sr>"      gondil'die'      (gonda'djio") 

his  uncle  at  once,  (modem  form) 

(right  away) 

ho's'hogwa"da,  dondaa'dii'l-klio' 


his-pipe 


thence  lie  arose      -and 
(and)  stood 


-and 


gft'sno"'     g&ga'wisil'     ne"     donda'ak-kho'      o'ne"'     gi"s'lia"      lie'- 

it-bark  it-paddle  that  thence  ht»-it    -and  now  (then)       it  seems  there 

took  up 

oflwe'     honadegil"(i6"'     ne"ho'     waadjis'dodjeiit-kho',  da'    iio"li()' 

where  they  (p/.)  fire  have  there 

kindled 

hogwa  's'  hoii       i  'yad 

aside  just  he  stood 

hono'eng&n'yad     no" 

his-head-top  of  (on)  the 

"De'ne"      de'gi'do".' 

"  Not  that  (it  is)    not  I-it-mean."  So 


no 

the 


did  hp-it-fire 
dip  up 

h;iun'\va''d(5"'       ne"ho' 

his-nephew  there 


waufi'tlio' 

did-he-ii  pour 

odjisda"s'ho"',     da'     o'no"'      ditj'      waiT-fi', 

it-fire  nothing  but,  so      now  (then)    besides      did-he-it  say, 

Da'       o'ne"'     nao"       no"       haun\va"'df"' 


now 
(then) 


truly 


the 


his  nephew 


gaiyofi'ni' 


o't'ha"se"'t'ho-       ne" 

did  he  wepp  that  it-matter  causes 

hono'6n"ge'     o'wn"se"'t,       da' 


his-head-on 

waadyas''lu'!"i', 

did-he-self  prone  lay, 

da"gwa',   ne" 

customarily,      that 
(it  is) 


did  it  fidl, 

no"li()' 

there 

s5°"e"' 

becaiLse 


ne  no 

that  the 

o'no°',        gi"<)"' 

.So,         now  (then)  it  is  said, 

ho'gwfi      waa'dyfn'      lif'"'()n\ve'     hildyon'- 

aside  did  he-self  seat  there  where  ht^self-seats 


odjisd!l''s"h()"' 

it-fire  nothing  but 

lu)iiiikda"gc' 

his-couch-on 


doodidjen'ont. 

two-they-fire  have 
between  them. 


Da'     ne"     diq'      o'ne"'      na'e'     waf>"ni"he"' 

So  that       t)esides     now  (then)       verily  did  ho-il  stop 

da'       o'ne"'       duj'       wai't'fi',     "Gen"        o'ne" 

so  now  (then)      besides      did  he-it-say,  "Alas, 

o'ni'"'       wai"      vvaakno"'goude"'      ne" 

now  (then)      truly  he-me-abused  has  the 

ne"ho'     dooye'o"'." 

thus,  so,         so  he-it  hiis  done." 


no"      ln1sda"hi\', 

ilie  he  weeping  (is), 

()ngido"s't'ho't; 

now  (tlien)         I  i)itiable  have  become 

akno'  '.so"' .      Dewi'n'do"' 

my  uncle.  Not-ever  before 


758 


SENECA   FICTTON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[i:T!!.  ANN.  32 


diq' 

too, 
besides 


ne"ho'    ht^'^'ouwe'     Vlyogon'wande'    waa'dyen'.     Da'    o'ne° 

these  there    where  it-valley-cliff  stands  did  he  seat  So,  now 

(thus)  himself.  (then)        then 

t'ha'dye'.     Agwas'     o'yonis"he't     ne"ho'     niyo"d^n. 

so  he  kept  Verily,         it  lasted  a  long  time,  thus  so  it  was 

quiet.  just,  it  was  a  long  time  (there)  (situated). 

Dy^ngwji"s*hon     o'n6°'       d^gas'nye't,     "Wu',     wu',    wu',    wu', 

Suddenly,  all  at  once,         then  (now)       thence  it-spoke  '*Wu',  wu',         wu',  wu', 

wu'/'      o"ge°'.       0"owa',       gi"o°,       na'e     dagas'nye't.      Donda- 

wu',"  it-said  Owl,  it  is  said,        indeed,         thence  it-spoke.  Thence 

verily  he  arose 

adas'dak     ne"      haksd^gowa    wai'^fi'-kho',     *'Ne"    non'    h?n'do°' 

suddenly  the  he-youth  (is)  h&-said-and,  '"'That      perhaps       he-it-means 

naakno"s6'',"     ha'donsag°"dat-kho', 

the-he-my-uncle  hence-he  ran  (=showed     -and 

(is),''  heels) 

honsaa'yo"'     o'ne°',     gi"o°',      wai'^fi 

there  aKsiin  he  now,  it  is  said,         did-he-it- 

retLirned  (then)  say, 

Dooa'dane'ge°',       "A°na°'o"dii"'a° 

Dooadanegen  "What  thing  is  it 

sat'hyo'wi'." 

do  thou-it-tell." 

"Niyo","      wai'gn' 

"So  be  it," 


w^*o'snowe°. 

Da' 

o'ne"' 

it-in-haste-was. 

So 

now 
(then) 

'     ne"      ha'ge°dji 

,    ne" 

'     ne" 

the           he-elder  one, 

(is) 

that 
(it  is) 

the 

o'sa'onk?       Hau 

J  f 

o'ne°' 

didst  thoii-                Come 
it  hear/ 

now 
then 

did  he-it 
say 


it  is  said, 


ne^' 

the 


ne"      HotkwisdadegS^^'il'.       Da' 

the  Hotkwisdadeg(?»"a'\  So 

'Tcikwas' 


o  ne" 

now, 
(then) 


"Just  a 
moment 


f^sat'hyo'wf     ne" 

wilt  thoii-it  tell  the 


Da' 

So 


ya'e' 

first. 


o  ne° 

now 
(then) 


Ga'nyo' 

As  soon  as 


hag^°'dji     wai'(^n', 

he-elder  did  he-it 

one  (is)  say, 

ya'e'    ^^wagyM'gwade'gP'.    Agwas'    ^°wagedjeo'dii'k     ne"    o'n^'" 

first  will  it-my-tobacco  bum  At  all  will  I  smoking  be  the 

(Ugbt).  events 

na°"ot      o'sa'onk." 

kind  of  didst  thou-it 

thing  hear." 

wilade'ga't-kho' 

did  he-it  light     -and 


now 
(t  hen) 


verily, 
indeed. 


gl  '0"V 

it  is  said, 


Da' 

So 


w5ayg°"go' 

did  he-it-tobacco 
put  in 

ne"    o'ne"'     waadyfuno'k'de"'     o'ng"" 

the 


ne 

the 


ho'sokwa'ta'kon. 

his-pipe-in. 


now 
(llien) 


dyeu't'ho'.     Da'    o'ng"' 

smoke  draw.  So 


did  he-it-task  end  (finish) 

diq' 


gi"o-S 

it  is  said. 


daay6°'gwa- 

thence  did-he-it- 


now 
(then) 


be- 
sides 


wai  en 

did-he-it 
say, 


now 
(then), 

"Hau",    o'ne"'    sat'hyo'wi' 

"Come,  now  do  thou-it  tell 

(then) 


ne' 

the 


na°"ot     o'sa'onk." 


kind  of 
thing 


didst  thou  it 
hear." 


So  now 

(then) 


wri'o(liy!l'da'e°'he't 

their  bodies  came  to  rest 


woo'no°"gaa'      ne'klio'      ne' 

they  retired  for  that-and  the 

the  night 

ne"kho'    ne"  wayadyas"hen'    ne"    ne"    yadadiwa^'dg"'.     Da'    ne" 

that-and         the       thev  (<u'o)  lay  supine       that       the         they  ((li'o)  (are)  imcle  So  that 

and  nephew. 

>"'      wa'o"h(^n't     dayat'ge",      ne"  yadadiwu^'de"', 

it-day-dawned 


diq'     ne" 

besides      the 


o  no 

now 
(then) 


thence  they  (fwo) 
arose 


the 


they  ((«"o)  (nrf)  uncle 
and  nephew, 


H  K  W I TT  J 

ne"kh()' 

lhat-{\nri 
it  issiiid, 

o'ne"' 

now 

(then) 


the 


o  no' 


now 
(tlien) 


LEGENDS 

wfianikhwPfl'dii  't     iiC ' 

the 


they  (tu-n)  eating  fond 
ceaseil 


sede"tcia' 

enrly  in  the 
moniing 


759 
o'n5"', 

now 
(then) 


kho"     u'e'    wai'r>n'     no' 

and  upnin      did  lu'-il  tin- 

say 

sJlsadao"'diyosda'iH)"',     iio'lio' 

again  tlioii  to  listen  attentively  Iliere 

do  go. 


<ljl. 


liajic' 

he  elder  one 

(is). 


'Ilau",     lii\vri'"(lr'"' 

"Clime.  my  noplicw 


a'e'    gi"s'ht^"    hC'sa'dycn' 


nprhaps, 
I  think, 


he'onwc*       tliyot^ofnvan'tlo',       he'ofnvo'        nisonnigodii'^wr'"* 


there 
where 


Ihore  v:illey-clUl 
sltinds, 


tlicre 
where 


thence  Ihuii  didst  arise 
from  sitting 


there  wilt  th(ui 
tliyself  seal 

lie' 

the 


yesterday." 

De'aonis'hc"()"' 

Not  it  long  lime  (is)         now  (then) 

waa  "dirndl '.       Ne"         o'nt 

ilid  he  start.  The 


o'lH^" 


IK'   no 

there 


no"       lif"\vri"dr'""s'ha 

Iho  he  nephew -ship  (is) 

o'no"'        n(>"h()'       wna'yo"' 

now  (then)  there  did  heiirrive 

klio" 


XII' 


waa'ilyf'i'i'     he'onwe'    diyog()i"i\v;in'(li 


o  no 

now  (then) 

o'ne"' 

now  (then) 


a'c 

again 

na'e* 

truly 


did  he  self  seiit. 

a'e'     waadau"Mi'yos 

again  did  he  listen  atten- 

tively. 


there 
where 


there  valley-cUlT 
stands 


Dv 


•fii  gwa  -sc 

Suddeidy 


now 
(then), 


gwasa' 

just 


did  it-it 
-say 

Da' 

So 


nc''ho' 

there 


do.sk  f'n'o"' 


an.i 

gi"o"', 

it  is  siiid. 

tcikis', 


^^Tcikis', 

near,  "Tcikis'.  tcikis 

Tcoktco"''khwen',     gi*'o"S     dil^as'nye't. 

Fish-hawk,  it  is  said, 


the  now 

(then) 

daj^as'nyc't 

thence  it  sjmke, 
cried  out, 

kis',      kis'/' 

kls',  kls'.*' 


theni-e  it  spoke 
cried  out. 


now 

(then) 


no 

the 


hriksri"<^()\va 

he  youth  (is) 


dondaac 


las'dilk     honsaadaklie' 


thence  lie  ari'so  at 
I'lue 


thence  he  ninninj,' 
went 


klu>"    he"'onwe'    t'hodino^'sot     ne' 

and  there  where  there  their  hidgo        the 

stands 


yadadi\va"'de"'.     llunsaa'yo"' 


Ihey  (two)  (are)  uncle 
an<I  nephew 


There  ngnin  he 
arrived 


t'honadega"do"* 

there  they  fire  have  kindled 


now  (then) 


wai'en'       ne"    hagr'"'dji 

did  he-it  say  the      he  elder  one  (is) 


saoilgefia'die'? 

thou  it  hearing  h:ist 
returned? 


Ilau", 

Come, 


o'nr""" 

now 
(then) 


wi'. 

tell." 


o'ne"'     daa.s'nve't 


thence  h 
spoke 


nc" 

the 


ir()lk\visd!idege""ii' 

Jlol  k\visdade);r'o''iV 


sat'hyu'- 

thou-it 

wai'en', 

did  he  it 


he"'onwe 

there  where 

"A'''na"'o"da"'a" 

"  What  kind  of  thing 
(is  it) 

Da' 

So  now 

(then) 

"Niyo''.     0'ni">"'    e"kat'li\ii'wi' 

"So  be  It,       Now  (then)  will  I-it  tell 

Da'     ne"    diq'     ne"     hage"'(lji 

So         that  two         the  he  elder  one 

(is) 

"Djigwiis'         ya'e'         ("'"gyr'iT'go 

"Just  a  moment  first  will  I-tobaccoputin  (it)  my  pipe-In 

S°wagyCn'gwade'g6°'     o'n?n'      f"sat'hyu'wi'       na"'o"da"'a"      wil'si 

will  it  me  tohaooo  kindle  for  now  (then)         wilt  thou  it  tell  kind  o(  thing 

wa'ouk." 

matter  hear." 


na°'o"da"'a"       agiwtuyenda'die'.' 

kind  of  thing  I-it  matter  having  return. ' 

o'ne"'    daas'nye't     wai'("'n'   kho' 

-and 


now 
(then) 


thence  he  dlil  ho  it 

."ipokc  say, 

aksokwa''t&kon.  Ganio'' 

Just  as  soon  as 


didst  thou  it 


760  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  I  ictii.  ann.  32 

Da'     ne"     dlq',      gi"o°'     o'lig'^S    waaye°"go'      waade'ga't-kho*, 

So  tbat  too,  it  is  said,         now  did  he  tobacco  did  he  it  light     and, 

(then)  put  in  (it) 

gi"o°S     ne"     ho'sokwa"da',    da'       o'n$°',      o'ne"'     na'e'     ne"ho' 

it  is  said,  the  his  pipe,  so  now  then,  now  then       truly  there 

hodja'od,       ne"kho'       ne^'       o'ne"^       daas'nye't        wai'^n'       ne" 

he-fire  holds  that-and  the  now  thence  he  did  he  it  the 

out,  sinoKes  (then)  spoke  say 

hage°'dji,    ''Hau",    o'lie^"'    sat'hyfi'wr      ne"      na^"ot      o'sa'onk/' 

he  elder  one  (is),      "Come,       now  (then)        thou  it  tell  the  the  thing    didstthouithear." 

Da'     o'ne°',     gi"o'^S    ne"     haksli"gowa      daas'nye't     wai'en'  kho* 

So       now  (then)        it  is  said       the  he  youth  (is)  thence  he  spoke       did  he  it  say  -and 

*'Niyo".       O'ne^^       ne"ho'     n6"ya'we°'.       Ne"        gwa'       o"g6"', 

"So  be  it.  Now  there  so  will  it  come  That  only  did  it  say, 

(then)  to  pass. 

"Tcikis',  tcikis',  tcikis',  kis',  kis'." 

"Tcikis',  tcikis',         tcikis',         kis',       kis'." 

Da'     ne"     diq'     ne"      Dooa'dane'gP"'    o'n?"',      gi"o'",     ho'gwa 

So  that  too  the  Dooii'dane'gu°'  now  (then),      it  is  said,  aside 

waa'yeii'     he''     ho's'hogwft"da'     dondaadas'dak-kho'      ne"      ne" 

did  he  it  say        the  his  pipe  thence  he  arose  instant  ly-and  that  the 

ka'sno"'    gaga'wi'sft'    o"t'hiik-kho'    waadjisdo'dj6n-kho'    hS°'-nie't 

it-bark  it-paddle  did  he  it  tako-and  did  he  fire  dip  up       -and        there    where 

ofiwe'      ni'honadega"do"     hogwa's'hon     i'yad     ne"     haunwi'i"'d6''' 

so  they  fire  have  kindled  aside-just  he  stood        the  his  nephew 

ne"ho'     waun't'ho'-klio'     hono'^ngefi'yad.     Da'      ne"     diq'     ne" 

there  did  he  it  pour    -and  his  head,  top  of.  So  that  too  the 

besides 

haksa"gowa    o'ne"',      gi"o°',      na'e'     o'hasda'en'     o't'ha'sent'ho'- 

he  youth  (is)  now  (then)        it  is  said  truly  did  he  weep  did  he  cry  out 

kho',     ne"klio'      ne"    hag^^'dji       o'ne°',       gi"^',      wai'en'       o'- 

and,  that-and  the       he  elder  one  (is)      now  (then)         it  is  said       did  he  it  say  did 

has'nye't,     "De"     ne"     de'gi'do"." 

he  spe-ak,  "  Not  that         not  I  it  mean." 

Da'     ne"       diq'     na'e'       o'ng°'       ne"       haun'waMe^'      ho'gwa 

So  that  too  truly  now  (then)        the  his  nephew  aside 

wJla'dyen'       he'ofiwe'      hadyendil''kh\vii^         sgadja"on'di'        waeil- 

did  he  self  seat  there  where  he  it  to  sit  uses  one  it  fire  side  of  did  he  it 

ni"hgn'      be"        hasda"ha\         Da'       o'ne°^      gi'V',         wai'en' 

cease  where      he  weeps,  is  weeping.  So  now  (then) ,        it  is  said,         did  he  it  say, 

"Gen",         o'ne"'      ongi'dc-'st'he't.       O'ne"''       noil'       ni"a'      ne" 

"Alas,  now  (then)        it  me  poor  has  made.         Now  (then)        perhaps      I,  poor  me,       that 

na'e'       ot'hagen'e^'g^ii'ni'       wai"     ne"       hakno"se°'." 

truly         did  he  my  orenda  (magic  power)      I  think  the  he  my  uncle  (is)." 

'overmatch 

Da'     ne"      diq'       o'ne'**        w6'o"ga' 

So  that  too         now  (then)       it  might  become 

odiyS.'da5'^"he't  o'dhyadyiis"hen'kho*. 

they  (their)  bodies  did  they  {two)  selves      -and. 

keep  still  lay  down. 

o'ne°',    gi"o°',  waya'dekhon'ni'.     Agwas'    ne"s4ion    wilanikhw^n'- 

now(then),    it  is  said       did  they  {two)  food  eat.  Just  that  only         did  they  food  cease 


o'ne°', 

gi"o'"       wa- 

HOW (Ihen), 

it  is  said,         did 

Ganio" 

M'5'o"hon't 

As  soon  as 

did  it  day  dawn 

Cl-RTI 
HEWITT 


i^]  LEGENDS  761 


da't      o'ne""kho'      a'e'       wni'eu'      iie"      hag6"'cljf,     "  Hiwa"'(le''', 

from  now  (then)  and       again         did  ho  il  say        iho         he  elder  one  (is),         "  My  nephew, 

o'ne"'     a'e'      sat'hondat'ha',     no"h()'     kho"       a'e'       ho'-sa'dyeil' 

now  again  thou  to  listen  do  go  there  and  upiin  Ihero  wilt  thou 

(then)  sell  seat 

he°'onwe'     diyogonwan'de'."     O'no"'     no* '     liaun  'wa"tlo"'       tlaas'- 

there  where  thereit  va!Iey-clilT  Now  ttio  his  nophow  ihore  ho 

stands."  (I  hen)  spoke 

'*Niyo'',  ne"ho'  ne"ya'we"/'  Da'  o'n^"*  diq' 

"So  be  it,  (fhere)  so  will  it  come  so  now  too 

thus  to  pass.'"  (then) 

wa5."d6ndi'.       Waa'yo"'      h(^"'onwe'      diyogoiiwanMe'      h?"'omve* 

dill  he  start.  There  he  arrived        there  where  thiM-e  it  vaUey-oIilT  stands         ihere  where 

ni'hady^fid&k'hwil',     o'n5"^,    gi''o"',    ne''ho*     waa'dyou'    waiidau"'- 

there  he  self  to  sit  uses,  now(then),    it  is  said,  there  did  he  self  seat    did  his  ears  prick 

di'yos-kho',    ne"ho'-s'hou     h-inyo''cyot     t'hihodye'e^'s'hofi,     dyt^fi- 

up  -and,  there-t)iily  hosat  iipriRht  just  he  still  remains-only,  sud- 

gwil'^s'hon       o'ni^"'       hot'hofi'de',     gi"<)"S     dayofidonno'd^"'     ne" 

denly-just  now  (then)  lie  it  hears,  it  is  said,       thence  she  her so^^;  uttered        the 

agon'gwe*     \ve^"'-gwa.     Da'     ue''     di(i'    woo'nigo"a"3^dii'(hl't    ne'' 

she  human  faraway-  So  that  too  did  his  mind  seize  it  that 

being  (is)  toward. 

gwa'     ne"     ye'o"'     ne''  ne"      dyagod6iino'd5-\  da'    o'nt^"',  gi'o^S 

Just  the       she  female       that       the  there  she  singing  is,  so  now  it  is 

(is)  (then),  said 

Wii'e'     ne"     noil'      ht^n'do"     wai''      ha'giwa'onk/'     o'n5"'     gi"o"S 

did  he  it      that       perhaps      he  it  means       I  thinlc        I  matter  have  heard,"         now  it  is  said, 

think  (tlien) 

daadas'dilk         honsaatiak'he'    osno'we'     hS^'onwe'      t'hodmo"'sod, 

thence  he  jumped  up    thence  herunniri^  went       it  swift  is  there  where      there  their  lodge  stands. 

Da'     ne"      o'ni^"'       hoiisaa'yo"'      nc"       ne"      hag{^"'t('i,     gi"o"^ 

So  that  now  thereagainhe  the  that  heeMerone         it  is  said, 

(then)  arrived  {is) 

wai'<^ii',      *'  Gwe'.         Do'        ha  gwis'de"'       saongr'fi'adifi'  V       Ne'' 

did  he  it  say,      "  Look  here.         What  something  thou  it  having  heard  return?'*     That 

kho"     ne"     h&ksil"gowa       daas'nyc't        Wiu'eu',       "]><';-       j)^' 

and  the  he  youth  (is)  thence  he  spoke        <iidheitsay.  "Yes/'  So 

o'nt^'*',     gi"o°S       ne"     lion(>"se"     wai'Sfi',        "Ilau",     o'ne"'     sat- 

now(then)     it  Is  said  the  his  unole         didlieitsay.  "Come,         now(then)     thou 

'h}n.i'wr/'      O'uo"'      ne"     ne"     hakst\'"gowa       wai't^n',      "  Niyo". 

it  do  relate.*'  Now  (theu)      that  the  ho  youth  (is)  did  he  it  say,  "  So  be  it. 

O'ng"^       diq'     <?"gat'hyu'\vr."      '' Hil'djigwas'     ya'e'      o"g>-on"go^ 

Now  (then)    besides  will  I  it  relate.'*  "Jusi  a  moment  first  will  I  tobacco 

ne"     aksokwii"ta'.     Agwas'    e^wagcdjeo'dil'k     ne"    o'ne"*'     6"^sei- 

the  my  pipe.  vi-rily  I  will  ho  smoking  the      nnw(ihen)     wilt  thou 

•wadt^"'da'/'       wai'en'     ne"     hag?"'tci. 

matter  set  forth,"         did  he  it  say      the       he  elder  one  (is). 

Da'       o'ne"',     gi"o°*,     wai"     waade'ga't        ne"       ho'sogwil"tfi-' 

So  now  (then),     itissaid,       indeed,         did  heit  light         the(that)  his  pipe 

ne"kho'        ne"       o'nC"'       wai'ijn',       "  Hau"      o'n5"'      safhy'wi' 

that  and         the  (that)      now  (then)     did  he  it  say,  "Come  now  (then)      thou  it  do  relate 


762 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETU.  ANN.  33 


ne 

the 
(that) 


na°"ot     saonggii'adie'." 


kind  of 

thing 


thou  it  having  heard 
return." 


Hotgwisdagegg"'  '&' 


0'n6°'       diq'      ne"       haksa"gowa,       ne' 

Now  (then)        too  the  he  youth,  the  (that)  HotgwisdagegC""*', 

daas'nye't       wai'SiT,     "  Niyo".     Ne"     gwa'     agat'honde'      agoiT- 

thence  he  spoke       did  he  it  say,        "  So  be  it.         That  just  I  it  hear  she  human 

gwe'      wii'ond(?fin6'd(5°'      ne"     ne"     wa'a'ge"',      "Ha-ho-wi,     Do- 
being  (is)     did  she  her  song  uttered        that  the        did  .she  it  .<:ay,  "  Iia-ho-wi,  Do- 

oa'daneg6°"ge',     hil-ho-wi,     wsi'heya'di'sak'he'-a,     ha-ho-wi."    Da' 


o;t'danegt^*'"ge'. 


hil-ho-wi, 


thither  I  his  person  to  seek 
go  (lightly) 


hil-ho-wi. ' 


o'nc"' 

now  (then) 

Ne" 

That 


o'hai'hok'de"'       ne" 

did  he  news  finished  the 


he°wa°d6""s'ha'. 

he  (the)  nephew-ship. 

ne'wa'      de't^hogawesodje'^'do" 


as  a  matter 
of  fact 


not  it  is 


in  turn 


not  thence  he  paddle  has 
dipped  up 


giigawe"sa'     ne" 

it-paddle  that 

(it  is) 

skoil't'liwe"'. 

him  burn. 

0'n6°',       gi"o'" 

Now,  (then)     it  is  said, 

ne"ho 


ne 

the 
(that) 


ga'sno°'    na''"ot; 

it-bark  kind  of 

thing; 


he''"e" 

not  it 
is 


ne  wa 

in  turn 


ne" 

the 

doo'- 

did  he 


as  a  matter 
of  fact 

gayofi'ni' 


gya  so". 

I  am  named. 


ne"       hagS°'dji       daas'nye't 

the  he  elder  one  (is)       thence  he  spoke 

dayoilgidoii'ne'  na'e'     ne"     ne"    agon'gwe' 

thence  she  me  mean-  truly        that  the  she  human 

ing  comes  (it  is)  being  (is) 

Dooa'dane'ge"'       dayondoii'ne'.         I" 

looii'dane'gS"'  thence  she  it  saying  tomes.         I  of  course      that  (it  is 

Dil'     o'ne"'     diq'      a'e'       ne"ho'       hofisa'se'       ne"ho' 

So  now  also         again  there  hence  again  there 


wai'en', 

li  ji/ 

did  he  it  say, 

"I 

e'     ne" 

wai" 

a          that 
(it  is) 

of 
course 

wai' ' 

ne" 

now 
(then) 


sasafhoiidafhH,     o'ne° 


again  thou  thy  ear  put 
forth  do  go, 


now 
(then) 


perhaps 


ne''ho' 

as  3  matter 
of  fact 


thou  do  go 

dosken'o"     I '3-6°'." 

nearby  she  is 

moving." 


Da'     ne"     diq'    ne"   he"wa,°de''"s'ha',    ne"  Hotkwis'(hidege°"a' 


.So         that 
(then)      (it  is) 


too, 
also 


the 


he,  the  nephew- 
hood  (is) 


the 


Hotkwis'dadegL">"a', 


o'ne"'    waaya'ge°'t     ne"kho'     ne"      he"     diyogoii'wande'     ne"ho' 

now  then         did  he  go  out  that-and  the       where,  at    just  it-lunate-bluti  stands       there 

the  place , 

honsa'e'    saat'hondat''ha'-kho'.     Wa'a'yo"'  ne"ho'    o'ne"',    gi"o"', 

again  he  to  listen-went  -and.  There  he  there 


ag.iin  thither 
he  went 

oy(5n'ilet 

it  is  evident 

he"'onwe' 

there  where 


There  he 
arrived 


now 
then. 


it  is  said. 


o'wa'do"' 

it  became 


o'ne"' 

now 
(then) 


just 


dosgefi'on' 

nearby 


ni'hanyo"cyot     hot'ho"'diyos'do"-kho 

where  his  "  spine  "  ho  his  ear  liath  made  alert -and 

stands  forth 

agwas'     na'e' 

just  verily 


dagaa"noda'die' 

thence  it  song  standing 
out  conies  along 

Ne"kh()'     ne' 

That  and  the 


doskcn'o'"s'hon     wa'o6n"he't      he"'onwe' 

near  by-just  did-she-halt  there  where 


she  human 
being  (is) 

hanyo"cyot,     da'    ne"    diq'    ne"    dyengwa"-se'    wa'ondennO'de"', 

pihis "  sne "  stands        so       that         too,        the  suddenly.  did-she  her  song 

forth  (it  is)         also  unawares  put  forth, 


CURTIN,  1 


LEGENDS 


<G3 


doskerio""'s'hon,       ne"       ne''  wa'a'ge"', 

nearby-just  Ihut(iti.s)        the  did  she  U  say, 

hit-ho-wi,        Dooa'dancg!l""ge',        hit-ho-wi, 

hil-h(>-wi,  Dooji'daueg;t«"'i;o"s  (lodge),  lij\-lio-wi, 

hil-ho-wi,     lul-ho-wi. ' ' 

hi1-ho-wi,  li;\-h{>-wi." 


Ila-ho-wi,     hil-ho-wi, 

'■  IIA-ho-we,  h:l-lio-wi. 

wrrheyJl'drsak'hil' , 

Ihilhcr  I  his  i)erson  to  find  do  go. 


Da' 

ne" 

(H<i'      no" 

he"wa"(U'""s'hil 

So 
then 

that 
(it  Ls) 

too            the 

he-nephew-ship  (is) 

kho" 

ne" 

dofidriha"got 

kho"     ho"     do 

and 

the 

thenco  he  returnod 

and            the             thi 

o'snowilMie' 

it  rapid,  swift,  is. 


Ilonsriu'yo"'     da'     o'lio' 


There  atniin  he 
arrived. 


IlliW 

(th.u) 


o'no"'       (liladasMilk 

now  thence  he  uprose 

(I  hen)  instantly 

(lofisaa^Mad      heyogo"'s()t 

thenci'  airuin  he  exceedingly 

ran  huuie 

wai'eiT,     "  Gwe',     o'ni?"' 

did  he  it  say,  "  Lo, 


now 
then 


dosken'o"', 

nearby, 

Da' 


nfiii's'hon     do.skeno""s'hou     o'lii^"'       I'ye"'." 

close  by-just  nearby-just  now         She  is  moving. ' 


o'n6"'       ne"ho',      gi"on 


now  (then) 


there 


it  is  saiti, 


Wil'gfisga'wak    h§"'on\ve'    hadyf'fidak''lnvri' 


dofidail'ihl't      no"       hag6"'dji 

Ilieuce  he  arose  she       he  el<ier  one  (is) 

nc'klio"     ne"     haufi- 

did  he  dust  shake  off        there  where  he  it  to  sit  uses,  Ihal-and  tlie  his 

wa'-'df"'    ha'de'yoii        otgi"s'ho"'        no"ho'         wa'odi',         o'ni^"' 

it  fllth-s  (are) 

"  Ilau", 


his  nephew  all  kinds 

gi"o°S    wai'en'-kho', 

it  is  said,       did  he  it  sav-and, 


Ihere 


'n^"^ 


'  Come  on, 


o  lie 

now  (then) 


no    lio 

there 


di<i  he  it  cast,  now 

he"sa'dv(5ii'." 


there  wilt  t  hou  thyself 
seat." 


Gagwe'go" 


ne"ho'        niyo"dffi'         hono"'eiT"ge' 

It  entire  (is)  thus,  so,  so  it  condition  (is)  his-head  on 

osda"s'hoh,     ne"     he"wa"do""s'ha'. 

it  scales,  the  he  nephew-ship  (is). 

Dyengwa"-se     o'nt"'"',     gi"o°',    o'f  liadadcs'nyo 

Suddenly  now,  it  is  said,  did  he  self  attend  to 


ne" 

that  (it) 


the 


Agwas' 

Indeed, 


o't'hade'cvosa'doiT 


did  he  self  furs  enwr.ip 
with 


ga'cyo'silde', 

It  fur(s)  stood  out 
(abo), 


ne" 

(hut 
(it  is) 


no' 

the 


no" 

the 


hage'"(ljl. 
he  elder  one 

^is^ 
yag?""o" 

it  i-;  pro- 
tended 


deaiioii'do"' 

he  noble  one  (is). 

Ne"-kho' 

That   -and 
(it  is) 


ne"       waan6iii"hon' 

the  did  he  it  w;ish 

severally 

ho'stoa"ge',       agwas'       oyeh"gwri' 

his  fe;ither-  Just  it  smoke 

headdre,ss-on 


ne 

tbo 


it  feather 


ne 

Ih:U 
(it  is) 


no 

the 

so'Mji' 

too  much 
(betyu.se) 

otgi"s'ho""o"'-ge'     gayenda'die's   o'no"'    o'vo'nis"ho't.     Gagwe'go" 

it-lilths -on  it  l:iy  from  place  lo         now  iiWiLsalnng  It  entire 


i'gSfi 

it  is 


nij'o"dfn 

so  it  condition 
(is) 


it  l:iy  from  place  to 
place 


it  W!LS  a  long 
time. 


waano  ai  . 

did  he  it  wash. 


Ga'nio'     waadyenno'k'de"'     dti'     o'lie"'     o't'hano'fin"- 

vVssoonas  did  he  his  t;ksk  Ilnish        then  (so)        now  did  he-it  head  place 

hofi'.       Dii'     o'nP"',       gi"o"',     ne"ho'     waanyo'do"',     o'tiiaii'da'- 

on.  So  now,  it  is  said,  there  did  ho  it  set  up,       did  he  two  feathers 

iiegf"'  oGndou'gwa.         (la'nio'       waadyehno'k'de"'         he'ni3'ofi 

set  side  by  side       front-toward.  As  soon  as  did  he  his  task  finish  as  many  as 


764 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETH.  ANN.  32 


Wa'djI'a'      hody§u'- 

Shortly  after       he  his  task  has 


dehe°'nyaa' 'go"    da'     o'ne"'     waadji'ode"'. 

two  his  hands  employ        so  now  did  he  it  conceal 

(shut  up). 

no'kt      dycngwil'-se'     o'ne°'    doskeno°'s'hon     wfiondenno'de"'    ne" 

finished        suddenly,  unawares         now  nearby  just  did  she  her  song  sing         the 

agon'gwe'     he°'ofiwe'      nigano°"sot,     iyon'do"       he"      goden'not, 

she  human  there  where  t  here  it-lodge  she  kept  where  she  her  song 

being  stands  saying  sang 

"Ha-ho-wi,     ha-ho-wi,     hft-ho-wi,     wa'heya'di'sakhe"a',  ha-ho-wi, 

"HS-ho-wi,  hil-hi>wi,  hi-ho-wi,  thither  I  his  body  to  find  ha-ho-wi. 

go  quietly, 

ha-ho-wi,       ha-ho-wi,      Dooa'daiiegen"ge',      hfi-ho-wi,      ha-ho-wi, 

h;l-ho-wi,  h:l-ho-wi,  Dooii'dancggfl's  lodge,  hi-ho-wi,  hi-ho-wi, 

ha-ho-wi,    ne"   Hat'hoii'das,    ne"    Ilat'hon'das,    ne"   Hat'hon'das, 

ha-ho-wi,  the  Hat'hoii'das,  the  Hat'hon'das  the  Hat'hond'das, 

ha-ho-wi,  ha-ho-wi,  hS-ho-wi." 

ha-ho-wi,  hi-ho-wi,  hA-ho-wi.'' 

hage^'dji        woo't'ha'has       ne"       haunw!i°'de°' 

he,  the  old  one  did  he-him  talked  to  the  his  nephew  (is) 

"D6"sadye'o°ks'hofi      nis''a'."      DygngwS-'s'hoii     o'ne"' 

'■  Wilt  thou  quiet  be  just  the  thou  Suddenly  then  now 

exclusively." 

wa'ot'kae'     he"    gS-'hogain     ne"ho',   gi"o'",    niyo"den     ne"     ne" 

it  doorwav  (there)  it  is  so  it  kind  of         that  the 

(is)  thus  said,  (is)  (it  is) 

de^non'gwe'        o'tgni'dyoii'da't.        Dyeiigwa'-se 

Suddenly 


O'ne"' 

Now 

wai'eii', 

did  he-it  say, 


did  it  sound 
emit 


ne 

the 


there 
where 


I'ggii 

it  is 


one  it  wot 
think 

o'dwade'nho'hou'dr 

did  two  it-door-flap  cast  aside= 
(thrown  open  both  ways) 


two  they  (/,) 
persons  (are) 


o'tgni'dyoii'da't. 

did  two  they  (/.) stopped, 
alighted 


iie"kho'     ne"       daye'yo^'     ne"      agon'gwe' 

that-and  the  thence  she  (oti-       the  she  (anthro pic) 

person  (,is) 


thence  she  (an- 
thropk)  came  in 


gano°sa'gon  ne"ho'      kho'      o'dye'dil't;      o'nt^°*       diq', 

it-lodge-in  there  and         did  she  (an/A.)  stand;         now  also, 

dyeugwa'se  o'ya'-kho'      dondaye'yo"'      ongye'gwa;     da' 

suddenly  it  other-and         thence  she  (an(hroptc)         indoors-side;  so 


gi'V, 

it  is  said, 

D'He"' 


wax 

truly 


came  in 

"     on'gye'     o'tgi'da't     gano°sa'gon. 


indoors 


did  two  she 
(anthrop.)  stand 


it-lodge-in. 


Da'   o'n6°' 

So  now 

(then) 


diq' 

too 


ne 

the 


dyege°'dji      o'ne°' 


she  (anth.) 
elder  one 


so't' 

whichever  (it  is)     it  may  be 


ga'a°nigaa 


hS'gwa 


he"'  'dye"' 

aside  he  abides 

te'"'e°       ne"ho' 


truly, 


Dooa'dane'ge"', 


not 
(it  is) 


as  a  matter 
of  fact 


wa  a  ge"  , 

did  she  it  say, 

de'gagon'do"' 

not  it  certain  (is) 

de"ne'     ne" 

not  that        that 


na"'gen        ni'anyo"cyod      ne"    ne"ho' 

this  it  is  so  he  sits  that      as 

Dooa'dane'ge"'       haya'so",       ne" 


as  a  matter 
of  fact 


hui'geii 

that  it  is 


ne 

that 


"Ci've', 

"Lo, 

kho' 

and 

ne"ho' 

as  a  matter 
oi fact 

ne"ho' 

as  a  matter 
of  fact 


wai" 

Dooii'danc  gCo'  he  is  named,  that  verily 

haya'so".         Da'       ne'kho'      gwa'        nis'         ho"se 


this  it  is 


he  is  named. 


So 


here 


side 


Hat'hon'das 

Hat'hoii'diis 

hO"'onwe' 

the  thou    thither  do  thou  go      there  where 


CCRTIN,] 
HEWITT  J 


LEGENDS 


705 


Ihoi]  it 
thinkest 

ne" 

IhiU 

na'o' 

truly 


ne"     Dooii'dane'gf"',    iio'kho' 

that  Dooil'dane'gi^°'  here 

ne"        dejryadr'nnon'do'        ne" 

the  two  llwy  (f )  sislcr(s)  (aro)  that 

ne'kho'  <r^va'    .h6"'ge'         no" 

here  side  Ihillier  will  that 

iKO 


gwa 

side 


ne' 

thB 


'a-     he"'<>:e' 


the  I 
exclusively 


thither 
will  I  go 


Da' 

So 


no 

the 


gos't'ho"  I'yi'n' 

she  (anth.)  younger      shi'  it  thinks 


i'y?n'      ne" 

she  it  the 

thinks 


va"dad,  "Xo'khtv  ffxR'     I" 


lie" 'go' 


0'n(5°'    wai"    ne" 


'  Hero 


side 


I 


other  one 
(is) 

da'negS"'  liot'hou'de'  ne"   iia""()t     odit"ha', 


thiihiT  will 
I  KO." 


.%  0\\  , 

then 


da'negt^D' 


ha'do", 

he  il  kept 
sayinj;, 

Da' 

So 


he  it  hears 


the 


"  Ne'klio'     g\va' 

"  Here  side 


kindly 
thing 

nl'gf 

but 
it  is. 


Ihev  (nnA  it 
talk  about, 


djye- 

she  (iinlh.) 

Dooii - 

Dooji'- 

ne"ho' 

there 


■in' 


o  ne" 

now. 


gi  -o" , 

it  is  said, 


ne  gos  tiio"      lie 

the        she  (firj^/i.)  youniier    that 


lie 

the 


she  (atith.)  it 
biksket  held 


ne      oa  gwa 

he  it-bread 

s:6"s',     gi"o"' 


ne" 

that 


ne' 

the 


customa- 
rily, 


it  is 
said 


yea  wi 

she  ()inH<.) 
it  bears 

no"ho' 

there 


\vri'o"'den'di' 

did  she  (antft.)  start 

Ilat'lion'das,     ne"    no' 

Hafhon'iias,  that         the 

iie"lu)'     liaya'dilk'Ti'. 

there  his  body  besidf. 


degan;1'lif)ns(lya''g()''       I'wad,       ne"       ne" 

two  one-it  loaf  cut  his  it  is  contained,      that  tlie 

ne"       ne"       yena'k^vinyon'ne',       o'ne"' 

that  the  she  (ni(/i.)  wedlock  to  now 

enter  goes, 

t  'hanyo'  'cyot     ne' ' 

there  his  spine  sets  up       the 

ne"ho'   \\'a'()n'dyt~''rr 

there         didshcherselfseat 


wa"e"',        hc'"'omve' 

thither  she  went       there  wliere 

'     ir()(kwisdade'ge""a', 

lIolkwisdadeg'6n''a', 


ne   ho 

there 


kho"       a'e'       gwa'       yedak'lie'       ne" 

and  ag.iin  side       she  (';n/A.) ran  along      the 

wa'on'dvt'ii'       ne"lu)'    hava'dak'Ti'. 


did  she  herself  seat 


Dyengwa"-se 

Suddenly 

o"dji'       ne'kho'      ha'e'gwa 

tseldersister      here  also  in  turn 

Da'     o'ne"'    wai",     gi"o"" 

So  now  truly,  it  is  said 

ne"lio'       lianyo"cyot. 

there  his  spine  set  upright. 

Da'       o'n6"'     ne"       Dooii'dane'ge"'       ne"ho' 

So  now  the  Dooii'diuie'gOn'  there 

da'lionyat'gii'     wai'fii'-kho 

thence  he  him  drew         did  ho  it  -say-and 


o't  •liofnvay  a  'da  'yt'n' , 

did  they  two  his  body  have 
between  them. 


there  his  body  besiile. 

liS'dewasr-fi'no" 

in  the  middle 


away 

na'o'       ■waodo'nyil't, 

as  a  matter     did  he  him  drive 
of  fact  towards 


wr.iidy  a' do  "y  a  k 

did  ho  his  body  thrust 

Ho'gwii    nis'     ho"se'    sgadie"an'di' 

'' .\side       the  thou    thither  do         one  it  fireside  of 
thou  go 

gi"o"'.     Da'     o'lu'"'     ne"     ne"      ha'o"lia"' 

it  is  said.        So  now  that         the  he  him.sell 

(.t  is) 


(orha'o''lnva''')      ne"ho'    hS'dewasi'f'i'no"      ]ie"'omve'       degni"dyo''' 

there  just  lietween  there  where  two  they  ((iu.)  abide 

ne"      degiksa"g6wa      ne"h()'     na'e'     wail'dyi'n".      Da'     ne"     diq' 

he  two  they  (da.)  there  indeed     did  he  him.self  sent.       So      that  (it  Ls)    too 

(maidens  are) 


766 


SENECA   FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETH.  ANN'.  32 


o'nS^S    gi"o''',     dondagidas'dak     ne"     dedja'o"      ne"ho 

now,  it  is  said  thence  they  (du.  /.)  the 


thence  they  (du.  /.) 
arose  quickly 


both  (two 
they  are) 


o  gne 

there  where    did  they  ( /.) 
(dual  j  go 


h^'^'onwe'        he'  's'hanyo  'cyot        ne* '        haksa'  'gdwa       ne' '       ne* ' 

there  wliere  where  afcain  he  siis  the  he  youth  (is)         that  (it  is)         the 

Hat^hon'das       (Hotkwisdadeg6""a'),     ne"ho'     o't'hoiiwaya'da'yen' 

(The  Listener)  (His  stomach  burned  little),         there  where    did  they  (/.)  his  person  embrace 

ne"ho'     ha'dewaseil'iio''     s4ianyo'cyot. 

again  he  sits. 

ne*'        hage'^'dji       ne*'       Dooa\lane'g5^' 

the  he  old  one  (is)  the  Dooil'daue'gt^n' 

ne*'     ne"ho'     wa'e'     he"'onwe'      lui'dewa- 

the  there  thither  he      there  where       just  between  (in 

went  the  middle) 

yes'hanyo'cyot    ne"    Hat'hon'das,     o'nS°* 

there  again  he  sits  the  Hafhon'das,  now 

a'e'kho*     sgadje^an'df     o't*ho*dja'e^' 

again-and  one  it-fircside  of         did  he-him  pushed 

(beyond  the  fire) 

a'e'     saa'dyen'     h&"'onwe* 

again      again  did  he  sit         there  where 

na'degya'de'.       Da'       ne" 


there  just  between  (in  the 

where  middle) 

Da'       o'ne^*        a'e' 

so  now  then  again 

dondaa'da't     ne"kho* 

thence  he  arose  that^and 


kho" 

and 


agam 


thence  he  his  arm 
^seized 


diq'     ha'o-lia"'     ne"ho' 

too  be  himself  there 


da'     o'ne 

so  now 

degni"dyo'''       lia'deWilsen'no°       he" 


two  they  (du.  f.) 
were  abiding 

just  between 
middle) 

(in  the            where           so 

two  they  (du 
far  are  apart. 

./.)             So              that 
(it  is) 

diq' 

ne" 

hi'ga"     degiksa"gowa     he°"e" 

de"ne 

'      dagigil'dii'die' 

too 

the 

that  it  is          two  they  maidens             not 

not  that 
(it  is) 

thence  they  (c/u.) 
to  seek  came 

ne" 

ne" 

hage"'dji 

aodl'nyak,      da' 

ne" 

wai"      gayon'ni' 

that 

the 

he  old  one  (is)     should  they  marry,       so 

that         of  course           it-it  causes 

dtl'a'i 

0° 

ayodi'guye" 

ne"      na""ot 

hee" 

ne"       hage°'dji; 

not  it  is 
sible 

pos- 

would  they  (/.) 
consent 

the                kind  of 
thing 

he  it 
desires 

the                he  old  one 

(is); 

da' 

o'ne°' 

wai"     a'e' 

dondagidas'dak 

ne"ho' 

hoiisagya'dyen' 

so 

now 

oE  course      again 

thence  they  (du.f.) 
arose  quickly 

there 

hence  again  they  (du.) 
themselves  seated 

haksa'  'gowa 


he^'oiiwe'        t'hanyo"cyot       ne" 

there  where  there  he  sat  was  sitting         the  he  youth  (is) 

o't'honwaya'da'yeil'      ha'dewasfn'no°-kho' 

did  they  his  body  embrace 


just  between        -and 
(or  in  the  middle) 


agam 


ne"ho'        a'e' 

there  again 

s'hanyo"cyot 

again  he  sat 


ne"     hage°'dji    o'nt^"'   wagnnrhe""     he" 

the  he  old  one  now  did  he  it  cease  where 


ne"    Hafhon'das. 

the  Hafhon'das. 

Da'       o'ne°',    gi"o°', 

So  now  then,     it  is  said, 

ni'hodye'e".     Ne"ho'     o'yo'nis'he't    t'hiodye'e"'s'hoix    hanyo"cyot. 

Thus  (There)      it  was  a  long  time    just  he  kept  still,  kept  silent,  he  sat. 

gi"o°',       ne"     hage"'dji     o'n6°'     daas'nye't     wai'en', 

it  is  said,  the        he  old  one  (is)         now  thence  he  spoke     did  he  it  say, 

o'ne"'       wai"      e°sa'nyak.      Da'     ne"     diq'      na'e' 

now  of  course       wilt  thou  marry.         So         that  too  truly. 


so  he  is  acting. 

Da'  o'ne"', 

So  now 

"Hiwa^'de" 

"  Oh,  my  nephew 


6°ge'cyonnya'non'       he"'onwe'       ni'sadyenda"gwa',       so"dji 


will  I  it  prepare  severally 


there  where 


so  thou  it  to  sit  usest, 


because  (too 
much) 


m:wmO  LEGENDS  767 

ol'gi',     so"dji     wai"      (le'su'ni'gofit,     so''dji     ot'gi'     ni'sadye'hil' 

itfllthy         Iwcause       of  course         not  than  hiist  mind       because  it  flilhy  so  thou  it  doest 

(is),  (sense),  (is) 

ne"   wai"   gayofi'ni'  so'Mji'    ot'gi'     h6"'onwe'   ni'sadyefida"gvva'." 

that     o(  course       ii  it  causes         In-cause    it  filthy  (is)     there  where  so  thou  it  to  sit  usosl." 

HaVha"',    gi"o°',   urge"'     ne"ho'      ni'hoyc'C".      Dooa'dane'gC"' 

He  hinisolf  iliss:ii<i,         so  it  is  there  so  he  it  has  done.  Dooii'dane'K^o' 

ha'o"ha"'    waa'tgit    lu'"'()n\ve'     hadyfnd!l"gwa'    ne"    liaufiwa"'de'''. 

he  himself         did  he-it  soil      there  whore  ho  (il)  sell  to  sit  ases        the  his  nephew. 

O'lU'"'     wai'gfl',       "Ilau"     iio'kho'      gwii'      va'e'     h6"swa'dyoa'. 

Now  did  he  it  say,  "Come  hero  just  first       there  will  ye  yourselves 

seat. 

l^l"gecyofmya'noii'  li6"'onwc'   iu'luulyoi"ida"gwa'    ne"    hoyr'fi\va"'dt'-"' 

Will  1  it  prepare  severally       ihere  where  .so  lie  self  to  sit  uses  (it)         the  my  uephew 

so"dji'     wai"     ot'gi'-s'liofi.    Da'  uo'klio'   gwa'  ya'e'  6"swa'dyen'." 

because       o(  course  it  filthy  just.  .So  here  just  first         will  ye  yourselves 

(too  much)  seat." 

O'nf"'      wai"        daa"no""da"'(li'. 

Now  of  course  thence  they  departed. 

Da'     o'nS""    ne"    hag5"'djl      waacyonnya'nofi'     agwas'      wi'yo, 

So  now  the        he  old  one  (is)       did  he  it  prepare  severally  very  it  fine,  (is) 

waadygfinon'nl'       waa"skilwak'lionnyo"'      ne"kho'  ne"  ga'cyo'sil', 

did  he  his  skUl  employ       did  he  it  rubbi.sh  wipe  away  severally       that  and       the  it  skin, 

ne'ogg"'        ga'cyo'sft'        ne"kho'        ne"       nya'gwai',        gngwe'go" 

deer  it-skin  that-and  the  a  bear,  ii-eniire 

waa'cyo'sadofi'nyou'.      Da'      agwas'      waadyi?ilnoil'nr ;      ue''klio' 

did  he  skins  spread  out  severally.         So  very  did  he  his  skill  employ;  that  and 

ne"     waacyon'nl'      ne"     Daanoa'do"'       g6"s'       niyag<)nakdo"da'', 

the  did  he  il  prepare  the  Noble  One  ciLstomarily       so  one's  place  kind  of  (is), 

ne"     na'e'     ne"     ga'cyo'sa'-s'h()"'o"     g.igwc'go"      waadyei'mon'nl', 

that         verily  the  it  skin.s-several  it-entire  did  he  it  set  in  order, 

he"       hady6nd5"gwa'        ne"      haunwa"'d5"',      no""gon'       no'lio' 

where  he  self  it  to  seat  uses  the  his  nephew,  imdernciith  there 

h6""dyo°'     ne"     Hat'hon'das,     ne"lio'-kh()'      a'e'     gwa'     o'tgya'- 

he  abode  the  Ilafhon'das,  there-and  again         just       did  they  (du.) 

dy<?il'     ne"     dcgik.sri"gowri,    ne"    ne"  neyo"s'ho"',     de'gni'     na'e' 

elves  the  two  they  (dii./.)  that        the  his  wives  two  they        verily 

seat  maidens,  are 

iia't 'ho'nyak. 

so  many  times  he  married. 

Da'      o'nP'     ne"      hag5'"djl       woo'fha'liils     iic"     lunin'\va"(ie"' 

So  now  the  he  old  one  did  he  him  talk  to       the  his  nephew 

wai'Cn',     "O'ne"'     wai"     wesa'nyak,     liiwa"dC'"'.      llau".      o'ne"' 

did  he  it  say,  "Now      of  course,     didst  thou  marry,       my  nephew.  Come,  now 

wadodil'sl      a'di''gwa      nil""()t        gia'wf,       ne"       gaiwriniiis't'liS' 

let  it  it.seU  bring         unknovi-n  kind  of  thing       tliev  (rfii. /.)         the  it  it-matter  to  be  strong 

[orih  it  bring,  makes 

g6"s'       ne'  waago'nyak,      ne  "       wai"       g6'"s'       ne"     dewas''heu 

customary    that       did  one  marry        that  (it  Is)    of  course       customary       the  two  tens 

niyoa"gwage      ne"      ne"       deganri'h()"sdyil"go"      gaya'so".       Da' 

soil         loaves  that  the  two  she  il-loaf  has  divided  it  is  called.  So 

many       mmiber  (-marriage  bread) 


768 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 


[ETH.  ANN.  32 


a'dl'gwa       diq'       gia'wl'?" 

unknown  (it  is)      too       they  (dii./.)  it  bring." 

Da'     ne"    diq'     o'ne°',    gi"o°', 

So      that  (it  is)     too  now,  it  is  said, 


ne" 

the 


ego 'wane" 

she  (anth.) 

elder  one 

(=largerone) 


dayes'nye't 

thfnce  she  spoke 


wa'a'ge"  ,       ' 

did  she  it  say, 

sat'liyu'wi." 

thou  it  are  relating." 


'Niyo", 

"So  be  it, 

Da' 

So 


o'ne"' 

now 

o'ne"', 

now, 


verily. 


e°gaiwaye'i'       he"   na°"ot 


gi'V', 

it  is  said. 


will  it  fulfill  the  matter      where 
1/ 


donda'yek     o'ne°'     diq'    ne"ho'    wa"e°' 

thence  she  it  now  too  there  thither  she 

took  up  went 


kind  of 
thing 

ne"       ga'as"ha'     o'nc°' 

the  it  basket  now 

h6"'ohwe'    t'hanyo"cyot 

there  where  there  he  sits 


ne 

the 


'Neil 'da       wai 


i'  " 


between  his 
forked  thighs. 


hage°'dji,       "I'Nenaa       wai",'        wa  age"  ,        "ne"       ne' 

he  old  one,  "Tliishere  of  course,"  did  she  it  says,  "the     that  (it  is) 

sat'hyu'wi,"     iie"kho'    ne"    daao'geii    ne"ho'     wae'as"hayen'. 

now  it  are  talking  that-and  the        between  his  there  did  she  it  basket  place, 

about,"  '    '     ■•■■-' 

Daagane"'s'hou 

He  it  viewed  only 

Da'     o'ne°'     diq' 


So 

ne" 

the 


ne' 

the 

waaga"tci 

did  he  it  undo 


o'ne"',   gi"o°',     ho'gwa  ho^sayon'dyeii'. 

now.        it  is  said,            aside  there  again  she  sat  down. 

ne"     ga'as"ha'  waada"go'-klio' 

the               it  basket  did  he  it  take  out  and 


oa'  gAva 

it  bread 


ne  ' 

that 


ne 

the 


</ 


degana'lio°sdya"go'' 


gaya  so° 

it  is  called 


so  it  is  in 
number. 


Da' 

So 


o'gaiwaye'i' 


two  one  lo'if  has  divided 
(  =  marriage  bread) 

dewas'^hen      iiiyoa"gwage,       ue"ho'      wai^     ge"s'      ni'yon. 

two  lens  so  it        loaf  niim-  there  of  course       cus- 

many  bers,  tomary 

o'ne"'      ne^'      hage"'dji      wai'eii',       '^O'ne"'     na'e' 

now  the  he  old  one  did  he  it  say,  "  Now  verily       it  matter  is  complete 

wa'o^kha^gwa'o'''.     Da'  o'ne"'  wa'gai'wM.ni'ad    o'gai'waye'i'    se°"e"* 

did  one  me  bread,  give.  So  none         did  it  matter  confirm       it  matter  is  fulfilled        for  the 

reason  that 

he"     iiigayenno"den     ne"     ge°s'    wa'ago'nyak.     Da'     ne"ho^" 

where     so  it  custom  kind  of  (is)        the     customary         one  marries.  So  there  (=that 

is  enough)." 

Hat'hon'das.      Da' 

Hat'hon'dfis.  So 

"Hau",       o'ne°' 
"Come,  now 


0'skouwa"s'hon      ne 


It-roasted  flesh  only 

o'ne"',        gi"o", 

now,  it  is  said 

hi-'wa°dg"'     ga'o' 

my  nephew         hither 


hono'eii"ge' 


Da' 

So 


o'n6°' 


ne 

the  his  head-on  the 

ne"        hage'''dji       wai'eii', 

the  he  old  one  did  he  it  say, 

nondase'.       Ga'tci." 

r>o  thou 
come  hither." 

he°'wa"de°'sha' 

he  C=his)  nephewship 


thence  do  thou 
come. 


it  is  said, 


ne' 

the 


he"'ofiwe*        t'hanyo"eyot       ne"     hono"se", 

there  where  there  he  sits  f  =  his  the  his  mother's 

spine  stands)  brother  (uncle), 

ne"     hage'''dji     wai'^n', 

the  he  old  one         did  he-it-say, 

5°gonya'da'sennon'ni'-kho^'' 

will  I-thy  body  dress  up  -and." 


"Ni'yo'.     O'ne' 

"So  be  it.  Now 


ne 

"ho' 

wa'e' 

there 

thither  he 
went 

da' 

o'ng"' 

diq' 

so 

now 

too 

na'e' 

de°gons'nye' 

so  then 

will  I-thee  attend  to 

H  !•:  w  I  11  J 


LEGKNDS 


769 


,     Da'      nc"ho',       ffVo"'. 

So  there,  i\  is  said, 

nya'gwai'     gaha"oiulil"trvvri' 


io'»;\va     f^aiii'yon*      (orani'yont)       n 


bear 


its  bhvklpr  (  =  unne- 
huUler; 


aside 
there, 


it  hangs 

<ri"0"', 

it  is  siiid, 


I  lie 

I'wad     ne"     6'no"', 

the 


it  is  con- 
tained 


it  oil, 


O  IK) 

il-oil. 
n' 


ne"     lie"      awa'o"'sa'     ml""ot     ne" 

that         the  sun-fiowor  kind  of  the 

s'he"(hl<?on       waada^'tj^o'        no*'     o'no"',     da' 

gourd  in  did  ho  it  take  out  Iho  it  oil,  so 

flange'     waun't'ho'  (wa'ont'ho'),     gagw'e'go" 

on  did  he  it  pour,         (wJi"ofiCho'),  it-entire  (is) 

no'ga';       'Jl'so",       gi'o",       a'e'       saofit/'ho' 

rubs-anoint;  still,  it  is  said,         again 


agtiin  he  it 
poured  out 


O'nP"',     <ri"o"'.    pa- 

Now,  it  is  said,         it 

no"      diq'     lias'o- 

thiit  too  liis  liand 

hon<)'''<?n"{^c'     waa'- 

his  licad  on  did  he  it 

lie"      has'o'drr'ge", 

the  his  hand  on. 


da'     o'ne^ 

so  now 


na  e  , 

so  then 


got         ne"        ne" 

through    that  (it  is)        the 

nari'"ye'.         Ne"ho' 

so  did  lie  it  do.  There 


gi"o"',     saho'-fxa'. 

it  is  said        again  he  it 
anoint. 

ho£re';t''<;e'.        Da' 


Afjwas', 

Very, 


gl    o"-, 

it  is  said 


his  hair. 

dcs^nitrane' 


o  t'hon  - 

did  he  it 
soak 

no"ho' 

thus  (there) 


tlOll 


two  they  (du.)  looked 
on- just 


SL'"",  fJl"o'- 

lliree,  it  is  said, 

ne'     ne"     d('piksi1"'jjr)\va 

the         tliat  two  they  (du.) 


maidens  (are). 

Da'    ne"    diq',     gi"o"',     odii'\vana'fij\va'o".    Dyefiixwa's'hon  o'no"', 


that 


too, 


it  is  said, 


did  they  {nnim.)  it  won- 
der al. 


Siiddeidv 


now 


it  is  said, 

?n"s:e' 


aySn"s'hon 

one  it  would 
think -just 

ga^'e  'go" 

It  entire  (is) 


Wcia  go  , 

did  he  it  get, 


ne 

that 


," 


ne"    wooliigwiiii 'go'     hoiio"'- 

tho  did  he  him  nneap  Ids  head 


.so  then 


ne ' ' 

the 


os'da'-a'lioii. 

it-senb-       just, 
(is) 


Dyeng\va"-se     o'ne"' 

Suddenly  now 

hano"'6fi"ge'.     Da'     no 

his  head  on.  So         th,it 


ne' 

I  he 

a- 


na  e       agvv.-is      wl  yo      o  \va  do" 

very  it  fine  (is)       did  il  become 

diq'   na'e',     gi"^",  he"     niyu"d!i" 

too  indeed,      ills  said,       so  suit  is  situated,    would 

pastured, 

yen"s'hofi     agwas'     M-I'yo     o'wfi'do"'.      Dyengwa"-se     hage"'dJ!l"- 

Just  very         it  good  (is)    did  it  become.  Suddenly  his  forebeiid 


one 
think 


on 


ne'  'ho'     detrafi'  'da'ha'     ne' ' 


denly 


it  is  in  kind 

degvii'da'nc'gdn 

two  they  if.du.)  body 
are  joined 

diq'     woaiul'hils 

too  did  lie  liira 

address 

"rii5""e"     agwas' 

"  Not                very 
'.t40ir.°— l(j 


two  if  feathers 
stuck  up 

dooii'dane'gf", 

two  he  feathers  set 
together 

n(>"'kho 

tliat  and 


that 


no' 

the 


(legni' 

two 


ni  yon', 

so  many  it  is. 


(lyen- 

siid- 


no' 

the 

no"ho' 

there 


ne 

ihat 

sgat' 

one  it  is 


ne' 

the 


tkwPMa"en' 

il  red  (is). 


it  lilue(is). 


Da' 

So 


it  is  said, 

ne" 

that 

Da' 

So 


na°n  (la      non       niyon  so"s. 

this  (it  is)         perhaps       soli  long  (is) 
(p/.  sign). 

ne"       liaunwa"'de"'     wai'efi',      ne" 

the  his  nephew  did  he  it  the 

say, 

de'oya'ne',     tigwas'       tle"oyf"sdo",     wai''.  " 

not  it  good,  (is)  very  not  it  seemly,  (is)        certainly," 

-49 


111- 
so 


ne" 

the 


ne 

that 


hagf'"'dji, 

he  old  one,  (is) 


da' 


770 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS  [eth.  ann.sz 


o'lie"'      daadyefi't'ho'       ne" 

now  hence  be  it  pulled  the 

ni'yons,       ne"kho' 

so  it  long  (is)  that  and 


oa"da' 

it  feather 


non 


ne 

the 


\vi  yo,       wai  en  ne' 

it  good               did  he  it  the 
(is)".                 say 

denc'da't,     da'  ne"- 


there  wilt  thou  so 

stand, 

gaf'ho'     na'e^ 

look  upon        indeed 

Da 

So 


that 


sgat' 

one  it  is 

hage°'ilji, 

he  old  one  (is), 

diq'     ga'o' 

too  hither 


ne"ho'       na''n'da' 

there  this  (it  is) 

daadyefi't'ho'.       Da'      ne"ho' 


thence  he  it  pulled.  So 

"HoiTwe'     ho"se'. 

"  Yonder  thither  do 

thou  go. 

de''tchatka"de°', 

Ihence  wilt  thou  turn 
facing, 


there 

Hon 'we' 

Yonder 

6''gonyat- 

wiil  I  thee 


a'di'gwa     nisaya'daye"s'do''." 

unknown  so  thy  body." 


gi"o-, 

it  is  said 


ne 

the 


haksa"gowa     ne"ho' 


he  you  (is) 


there 


wa  e 

thither  he 
went 


hofl- 

ynn- 


we"gwa     gao"kho'     daatga"d6°'     deoga'ne"s'hon    ne''    hono"se°. 

der-ward  hither  and  thence  he  turned         two  he  him  eye<i-just         the  his  uncle. 

fa<'ing 

Da'     o'ne°'     ne''     hage°'djl     ileaga'ne'     ne"lio'     if'had      adeyen- 

So  now  the        he  old  one  (is)    two  he  eyed  (it)         there        there  he  stood  "Atten- 

nonni"ge'.     Dyengwa"s'hofi   ne''    hage^'djl   o'ne"'    gi"o'",    wai'6n', 

tion "  at.  Suddenly  just  the       he  old  one  (is)        now        it  is  said,    did  he  it  say, 

"  Hau"     ga'tcl,    ga'o'     na'nonda'se',    o'ne°'     na'e'     dondagado'k'- 


'  Come 


hither  do 
thou  come, 


hither 


again  hither  do 
thou  come. 


indeed 


there  it  me  failed  (= 
I  am  not  satisfied 


t'has 


I  so". 

yet." 

Ga'nio'       o''hayo"' 

Just  as  soon       did  he  arrive 


ne 

the 


haksa"gowa 

he  youth  (is) 


O'ne" 

now 


ne 

the 


liono"se° 

his  uncle 


o'no° 

it-oU 


ne 

the 


ne 

the 

o'ne" 

now. 


has'o'da"ge' 

his  hand  on 

hago''sa"ge' 


waon't'ho 

did  he  it  pour 
a" 


his  face  on 

gi"0"', 
it  is  said 


ne' 

the 

wai'en', 

did  be  it  say. 


waano'  - 

did  he  it 

haksa"goAva 

he  youth  (is) 

Hau"    o'ne"' 

'  Come  now 


ne"     oa'o°''sa' 

the  it  sun-flower 

ga'-kho'       gagwe'go" 

anoint-and  it  entire 

waadyennon'nl'.       Da' 

did  he  it  do  with  care.  So 

hon'we'      honsa'se'      ga'o'     diq'     de"tchatk{i''de""."     0'n6°'     ne" 

yonder  again  thither  do        hither         too  wilt  thou  turn  facing."  Now  the 

thou  go 

haksa"gowa  ne"ho'      wa'e'       ga'o'    diq'    daatga"de°'.    Da'  o'ng"' 

he  youth  (is)  there,    thither  did  he  go    hither      too  did  he  face.  So  now 

"     T,a"     hage^'djl     deoga'ne'      agwas'     wai"     waadyefinou'nl'. 

he  old  one  (is)    twohehimeyed  very  certainly        did  he  do  it  with  care. 

waas'nye't      o'nS°'       wai'6n',      "Ne"      ne'' 

did  bespeak  now  did  be  it  say,      *'That(itis)    the 

de'gatka''ho'     nofi'     de't'he'"'den'    (or  de't- 

not  in  any  place       perhaps         not  he  does  abide 

ne"      haksa"g6wa     gen'ufik.       Da'     o'nfi"' 

the  he  youthful  it  was.  So  now 


wai"     ne 

certainly    the 

Da'     o'ne' 

So  now, 

he"       niseksa"gowa 

wherein     so  thou  youthful  (are) 

'he°"dyo°')      ne"ho' 


gi   o"', 

it  is  said, 


there 


ga'tcl      diq'.       Da'     o'n^"'     hon'we'     honsasa'dye''(-dySn').      Da' 


hither  do        too. 
tliou  eoiue 


So 


now 


yonder 


Ihither  again  do 
thou  sit. 


So 


ne"  (li(i'  nii^nda''    na'"'ot     e^syaso'onk    ne"    ne"   Dooa'dane'g6°'. 

that        too  this  kind  or  thing    will  thou  becalled    that  the  Dooa'dane'gt.'f*. 


;;';r^]  LEOENDS  771 

Giig\ve'<>;o"      ]h-"      m'yon      ypiiage'nio"'      wef's'hofi      wil'ot'kae' 

Uenlirc(is)  :is  so  art  many      tht*y  dwell  spvcnilly  for  just  (1  ill  it  noise  inako 

(peoples) 

liao""h()"'     li!uljino"'dI'yri     no"   ha.'(Iegaiiyo''(lii<^e.     S!isPnnaon'<^!i't 

he  himself  he  htmler  fine  (is)  the  all  piiiie  in  number.  Thy  name  (is)  famous 

so""f'°.     Da'     o'lir"'     hon'we'     sa'dy^n." 

beciiiLse.  So  now  yonder       ihoii  thyself  seat.'* 

Da'     nc"     diq'     nc'       <lj(\va"dii(l       no"        no"       dyo<;owa'no° 

So  that  too  the  one  she  person  (is)    iliaiiiiis)        ihe  thereshe  el<ler  (is) 

nii''     no"     waTi'jjo"',     <i;i"o"',     "do""    nya'wo"     ho"    nirik.sa"<i(")\va 

that         tlio  did  she  it  say,        it  is  said,  How  thankful  so         so  he  hundsonic  (is) 

(it  is)  (we  are)         nuich 

ne"         ne"     ong\vanyri 'jjo". "       Da'      no"      diq'     ne"      <j;os't'ho" 

that(itis)      the  we  have  married."  So         that  (it  is)     too  the       she  yoimger  (is) 

ne"     na'e'    ne"    wa'a'fjd"',    gi"()"',    "No"    no"  1"  o"\v!Tgn()"s'dok, 

that  truly       that         did-she-it-say      it  is  said,       "That         the         I  will  I  it  cherish, 

it  is 

no"       ne"    I"    no"    o"gnoo"'g\vak,    no'li()"s'lioil    no"dwagj'oan'die' 

thatitis       the         I         the    will  I  it  hold  it  de;ir  (love)        thus  only  so  will  I  it  continue  to  do 

no"     a'di'gwa       na""()t      6n"      ne"h()'       na'Mje'       wai".        Da' 

the  any  kind  of  Ihinj;    it  may  be        there  so  do  thou  it  do     of  course.  So 


nya'wo" 

(liq 

/  ' ' 

it  is  to  be 
thankful 

1 0(1 

Ne" 

ne" 

o'no" 

•    wa'o' 

'gii'     O 

'nv 

"'     wii 

.i" 

W; 

lii'iiondy 

a'thige'ofi', 

That  (it  is) 

the 

now 

did  il  t)ecomo         i 

[low 

of  course 

d: 

id  they  their 

bodies  lay  down 

hJi'dewrisr>n'no 

"     na 

'degya'. 

lie'    no" 

f 

dogiksa'  'g(')wa     no" ' 

ho'     waad- 

just  l)etween 

the  distance  between    Ihe 
them 

two  Ihev  If.)  maid 
(are) 

ens          lliere         <li<lhehiln- 

yas"hon' 

ne' 

'     ]Ia 

fhoii'd 

;is     no 

'  f 

no" 

Do 

oil' 

(iano'go 

ti' 

self  lay  recuni 
bent 

1-      the 

Huf  hoiiMiLH 

that 
(il  is; 

1 

the 

Dooa'dane'yi^"'. 

Da'   0 

'nC"', 

gi"o'",    na'o 

'     no" 

<b 

'eg(")'vv 

ane 

'"     1 

tla'a'o"' 

a\ag(")'d!l'. 

So               1 

now, 

it  is  said 

1,        truly 

the 

thence  she  is 
one 

elder      not  it  is:ibie 

should  she 
fall  asleep. 

O'no"' 

nii'o' 

no"       Ilat'hon'd 

US 

no' 

flO 

''       Dooa'dane'gf"' 

Now 

truly 

the 

llafhon'ihis 

that  (il 

is) 

the 

|io<^a'dane'geo' 

li()da"o", 

(l3'awo"'(i 

"'s'hofi 

na'e' 

diii'iwa 

gii' 

no' 

he" 

hayas"hfi"' 

he  has  .'alien 
asleep, 

di. 

1  all  the  time  just 

truly 

two  her  h 
were 

im  e) 
nn 

I'es 

where 

he  lay  reeiim- 
hoiit 

ii()da"o". 

Da 

'    iw" 

no" 

djoya". 

.la. 

1       goda' 

'()" 

na'o" 

no"   no". 

hp  h:is  fallen 
;usleep. 

So 

that 
(it  is) 

the 

she  the  oIIkt 
one 

she  has  fa 
:us|ee[) 

lien 

truly 

the           that 
one. 

Wit'o"hen*t,     gi"o"',    na'e'     no''    no''  <lyo(x<>'wan(^"    (le'agO(lil"()" 

Did  it  day  become       it  is  said  truly         that        the         she  elder  one  (is)    she  hiv^  fallen  asleep, 

na'e'    he"  niwil'^sondis.     O'nc*"^     dk{',     (laynt'^r'"     nc"     degiksa"- 

(ruly        as        so  it  nightlong  (is),         Now        too. also,      ihenee  two  (/.)      the  two  they  (/.) 

they  arose 

cjowa       o'nS"'     <liq',     gi"o"*,    oVikhon'nl'     no"    nc"      g3'ade"t;ofr. 

nuiidens  now  ton,  itissaid,        did  they  two  (/.)        tliat       ihe      they  two(/.)  eldrrand 

(are)  food  'prepare  it  is  younger  sisters  are. 

Da'    ga'nio'     o'gak'hwai'     o'n6"\    gi''()"'    wainondekhofrni'.      N(^" 

So        assoonas        did  it  food  cook  now         it  is  s;ud  tht'V  food  ate.  That(itis) 


772  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [etfi.  ANN.  32 

na'e'     ne"      hage"'djr     waonwii'gwas,      gi"o°',    o'ne°'    wa°wanon' 

truly         the         he  eUler  one  (is)       did  she  him  take  a  it  is  said,         now       did  she  it  him  give 

portion  for, 

sgadje°on'di'       wai'        ne"        ne"       t'lianyo"cyot.       Da'      o'lif"' 

one  it  fireside  of         of  course  the  that  il  is  there  he  sits.  So  now 

na'e'   ne"   ha'o°ha"'     (ha'o°hwa"")  [for  hono°'ha'''-gea']    nekho'gwa 

truly       I  he  he  himself  he  himself  he  alone  here- ward 

na'e'     na'gadje°on'(lI'     o'nd"'       -wainondekhon'nl'      o't'hennon'don 

truly  such  it  fireside  of  now  did  they  food  eat  did  they  theuLselves 

eat  together 

na'e'     ne'j'o's'ho"'     ne"     Dooa'dane'ge"'. 

truly       husband  and  wive.s-      the  Dooadane'ge°'. 

just 

Waadikhweii'da't     da'    o'nt>°',    gi"o°',     wai'eu'     ne"     hage-'djl, 

Did  they  food  cease  from  so  now.         it  is  said,    did  they  it  say     the         he  old  one  (is) 

"nhvuMe")'     e"' 'sasawe"'    na'e'    de°sada\veu'nyc'    he"    yoeil'djadc'. 

"  My  nephew         wilt  thou  it  begin      truly  wilt  thou  self  travel        where      it  earth  is  present. 

Da'       ne"      diq'   e°se'nigo°"ha'k      ne"     ne"     doonondawennyo'- 

h^o  that  it  is         too         wilt  thou  careful  be       that  (it  is)    the  they  travel  about  in  num- 

'ho"'       sga'se       he"       nionondya'dat'go°'s.       0'ne°'      diq      na'e' 

bers  unmatched       where      so  much  they  are  wizards  severally.         Now  too  trulj- 

6°sado'wad.      Ganio"s'hon      na'e'       na'gaya'do"de°'       ogwe'nyoii 

wilt  thou  hunt.  Any  kind-just  truly  such  it  body  kind  of  it  possible  (is) 

e°'si'yo'     sc°"e°       na'e'       de'sano"'go'was." 

wilt  thou  it         because  truly  not  it  thou  affects."    . 

kill  (thou  art  immune.") 

Da'     o'ue"'     ne"      he°wa°de°"s'ha'      waa"dendr,      o'ne"'      lul'e' 

So  now  the  he  the  nephewship  did  he  start,  now  truly 

waadoat"ha'-kho'    wai'eu'-kho',     "A'dl'gM'a    do'ge°s     ne"  na""ot 

did  he  it  to  hunt  go     and         did  he  it  say  and,  I  do  not  know      it  is  certain       the  kind  of 

•     thing 

wai'en'  ne''  hakno"se°.     Ne"   diq'  ne"  e°(lgadye'e°t  ne"  djo'a'ga'." 

did  he  it     the  he  my  tmcle.        That       too       the         will  I  it  begin         the  raccoon, 

say  (=do  first) 

Da'     o'lie"'     diq'     waaya'ge'"t     waa'den'dl'.     Tchi-i"he'     waa'- 

So  now  too        hence  he  went  out  did  he  start.  V/hile  he  walked    did  he  it 

along 

ge"'     ne"ho'     ga'it     agwas'      o'e"da'      a'di'gwa'     na'gaya'do"da° 

see  there  it  (tree)  very         it  clawed   (is)         imcertain        what  it  body  kind  of  (is) 

stands  (il  is) 

ne"ho'    ge""dyo°'.     Da'    o'ne°'    na'e'    waa"t'he°'    he"     ga'it    da' 

there  it  abides.  So  now  truly         did  he  it  climb    where      it  (tree)       so 

stands 

ne"ho'      waa'ge"'      djo'a'ga'     dyunande'sandon'nio"'.     Da'     o'ne"' 

there  did  he  it  see  raccoon  they  are  in  array.  So  now 

\vaaya'dada"go'     o'souwa'gon       ne"kho'      ne"      e'da"ge',    gi"o"', 

did  he  its  body  take  out  it  hollow-m  that  and  the  earth-on,  it  is  said, 

wooya'don'di';   o'yi1,"kho'  waaya'dada"go'    ne"-kho'   ne"  e'da"ge' 

did  he  its  body  cast;         it-other  and       did  he  its  body  take  out        that-and         the  earth-on 

wooya'doii'dl';     o'ya"kho'    waaya'dada"g()'  ne"kl-io'   ne"   e'da"ge' 

did  he  its  body  cast;  it-other-aud       did  be  its  body  take  out        that-and         the  earth-on 

wooya'don'di';    o'j'a"kho'  waaya'dada"go'    ne"klio'    ne"   e'da"ge' 

did  heitsbody  ca.st;  it-other-and       did  he  its  body  take  out       that-and  the  earth-on 


<  IKTIN.] 

ukwittJ 


LEGENDS 


778 


wooya'dou'iir. 

dill  he  Its  body  cast . 

.-^■"     wai'," 

of  course," 


o  no 

now 


Da' 

So 

o'ne" 

now 


()  no"" 

now 
diq' 

too 


wui'en'  '  wri'as'nyt'  t? 

did  he  it  say  did  he  speuk, 


IhtMice  ho  liis  Ixidv  r;iii.s('(l 
to  dcscfiui. 


Ga'nio'  e'drr'^o'   o't'lutMu't  o'n^"'    \V!i'as'nyi''t , 

As  soon  lus  earth-on           <lid  he  stand            now             did  he  speak, 

'Ne"ho*  nofi'     huMejjaye'i'  lio"     iiit^e'has'de' 

"  Knough,  perhaps,     just  it  is  sulTieient  where         so  I  am  strong 


Da' 


So 


O  IlC 
now 


nls"ha' 


war 

of  course 

ne" 

tliut 


Wiiat'lio'iion'nl',      nc''      no" 

did  he  it  bunclle  niaki'ot         thai  the 


i  r 


waas'lm(lP""(Ia(''"'. 

did  lie  it  simp  luy  out. 

tlj()"a'>ja'-s'h()"'i)", 


waadyeniio'k'de"' 

did  lie  it  t:l^k  coin[)Iete 


lie 

it  torehea<l-  the 

strap 

waaya'dagc  'on'      ne' ' 

dicl  he  its  body  l:ty  sev-       the 
eniUy 

wrdias'yon'.      Ga'iiio' 

it  wrap  with  care         As  soon  as 
severally. 

na''k     a<j\vas'     \vaat'<:c"dat     iie"kh()' 

takcup       very,  in-        did  he  it  be:ir  with         llmtaiid 
deetl,  the  lorehe^d-stnip. 

Ne"'ho'       iii\ii"<!;i"       <;aiienoda'ilio 

ThiLs  so  ii  was  in  form  it  bundle  stood  out 

moving 

t'honadega"do",     no"ho 

there  thev  \\  fire  have  there 


O' 


Now 


"Nc''lio'-s'hou 

"  Enough-jiLst 


%\    ()"',    wax  efi  , 

it  is  said,    did  he  it  say, 

ho"sgatge"dat/' 

hence  will  T  body  bear 
away." 

■      lio'yi-"'      lie'' 

he  it  has  the 

Ki"o'",     ne"ho' 

il  is  said,  there 


waadeyi'nnofi'nl'      waa- 

did  he  il  do  with  eare  did  he 


(la 


o'no" 

now 


o't'liat'ho'- 

did  he  his  bundle 


ne" 

the 


afain  he  started 
(  =  went  home). 


liiiMsaa  yo" 

thither  he  returnecl 
homo 


hi'^"'onwe' 

I  here  where 


on'f^ye'     waat'lienofi'dl'     Avai'oA'     klio', 

iriiior)rs  di'l  he  his  bmidle  cast     riid  he  il  say        and 


here 


it  lies 


twit  Ihey  hands 
put  to  (it). 


wilt  thou  it  care  foi 


"Hail",  hagno"se".  no"-'  ijja'yi^"'    dcsos'iiyc',    do"se"'nyri'(:>"'-klio'.' 

"Come,  my  uncle, 

O'nO"',    <li''o"\   IK''' 
Now,         it  is  said      the 

niyii'wC"     hi'\va"(le"',' 


so  it  is  in- 
gratitude 


my  nephew,' 


liagr'"'djl     o'lio"'  iiji'f    o'l.'liiis'iiyc'. 

he  old  one  now  truly        did  he  il  attend  to. 

wai'on'      nc''  liono"sr'",      "o'nt'"' 

did  he  it  sav         the  his  imcle,  "Now 


and". 

'Hd', 

"116, 

wai" 

indeed 


o'fjai'wayo';'     tclii-sri'ri"s'hofi     s'ha'defjons'nyc'      dasad()(lyr'n'a"die' 

did  it  m;ilter  fulfill      while  thou  small-just  1  thee  .ii  tended  to  I  heme  thou  grew  apace 

dyaw?"''()"    dogons'nyo'    ni>''kli<>'    nc'   gofidan'iis.     O'no"'    nf'wa' 

always  I  thee  cared  tor  that  and  the       1  I  hee  pit  led  cu.s-  Now  inturn 

lomarily. 

o'sadodi'ak,     da'     n('"kho'    ge"s'     tclii'-wi 


didst  thou  grow  up,        so  I 

<:!iyri'dri(;e'()n'.     Da' 

it  boilv  lieseverallv.  So 


custom-         while  1  it 
arilv  thought 


()  nc" 

now 


nc  wa 

in  turn 


iia-'da 

this 


let  it   happen         too.' 
(1  am  thtinkful) 


1,-."' 


Da'  o'n6"',  gi"o"',  nc''    hagi''>'''djl     waa\-?n'sc 

So  now,         it  is  said,     the  he  old  one  did  she  it  skin 

djo'a'gtW     Waiidycnno'k 'dc"'     da' 

the  raccoon.  Did  he  his  task  finish  so 

nc"'       gil'cyo'sa'       ^"gatkj'son'nl', 

the  it  skin  will  I  self  pouch  make, 


wai  en 


<)   IK 

now  did  he  it  say, 

iic"klio'       nc'' 

that  and  tho 


he"   nl'yon 

a-s       so  it  many 

'Ne" 

"  Tliat 


ne 

that 


ne" 

the 

nil  'c' 

truly 

i"so" 

stiU 


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

S°tcMdoat"hil',     ne"kho'     na°'ga°     gaya'dage'on'      heyonegas'de' 

wilt  thou  to  hunt  go,  that  and  this  it  is  it  body  lie  several  "  pot-roasted  " 

ne"ho'     deyodogS^'do"    hui'ge°     djo'a'ga'." 

asamatter  ititrequires  that  it  is  raccoon." 

ol  fact 

Ne"kho'     ne"       waagoon'don'       ne"      ne"      neyo^'s'ho"'      ne" 

That  and  the  did  he  her  ask  several         that  the  his  wife-s  the 

hauiiwa^'dg"'     ne"     Do'     iieMjik'hwaye' ? 

his  nephew  that       How       so  will  you  two  food  prepare? 

Da'    o'ne"',   gi"o°',    dondagrda't    o'ne°'     na'e*    o'gya"tco'    ne*' 

So  now,         itissaid     thence  they  two  arose       now  truly       did  they  (du.)  it        the 

cut  up 

djo'a'g^';  ga'nio'     o'wadygfino'k'de^'    da'    o'ne"*      o'gina^'djo'dS"'. 

raccoon;  as  soon  as      did  they  their  task  complete      so  now     did  they  two  (/.)  pot  set  up. 

He*'       niyu'we'       o'gai"       yonegas'de'       wai"    o'ne'''     o'wfi'do"'. 

As  so  far  as  it  is       did  it  cook  it  boiled  down  of  course  now  did  it  become. 

Da'     o'ne°^     ne"       degiksa"gowa      iie"    ne"  o"wa'     ga'on'wagon 

So  now  the       two  the}' (/.)  ((^w)  maidens    that         the       it  meat  it-bowi-in 

ne"     ne"      ga'sno"'     na°"ot     ne"lio'      o'gi'ondii^     ne"kho'      ne" 

that  the  it  bark         kind  of  thing       tnere  did  they  two  (du.)       that  and  the 

it  is  it  part, 

o'ne°'      wainandek'hoiinf      hadigwe'go".     Da'     "  Niya'wS'',      ho', 

now  did  they  food  eat  they  together.  So         "  I  am  thankful,  ho'. 

niya'we*^,     niya'we^/'       ha'do°,      gi"o'",    ne"       hage"'djl. 

I  am  thankful.     I  am  thankful,"    he  kept  saying,    itissaid,         the  he  old  one  (is). 

Wa'o'hen't,    gi'^o'^S  o'ne"'    a'e'       saiidoat'^hli'     ne"     Dooa'dane'- 

It  became  day,         itissaid       now  again    again  he  to  hunt  went      the  Dooa'dane'- 

ge^\      Da'     ne"       tchi'ie^s      ne"     ga'hada'gofi     ne"ho'     waa'ge"' 

ge°'.  So  that       while  he  walked      the  it-forest-in  there  did  he  it  see 

around 

ga'itgowa'nen,     agwas',     gi"o°*,    o'e"da'     ne"    ne"    owadjisda"ge' 

it  tree  stands  great,  very  itissaid,    it  clawed  (is)    that       the  it-biirk-on 

he"     gii'it.     0'ne°',    gi"o"',    waade'cyonya'non'    waaa"t'he"'-kho^ 

where        it  tree  Now,  it  is  said     did  he  his  preparations  make  did  he  it  climb-    and. 

stands 

Da'     o'n^°^    na'e'     ne"ho'       na'a"'we"       a'e',     ne"ho^     waaya'da- 

So  now  truly  there  so  it  happened         again,  there  did  he  its  body 

dyen't'ho'       ne"       djo'a'ga'       ne"        o'swe°'d^'gon        gonni"dio'^' 

draw  out  the  raccoon  the  it  dead  tree-in  theyCanim.)  abide 

e*da'ge"kho'     wooyaVloii'dl',    o'ne"*    o'ya'kho*     ho^saayil'thidyen'- 

earth-on-and  did  he  its  body  cast,  now  it-other-and     thence  again  he  its  body  drew 

t'ho'      e'da"go'-kho'     a'e'    wooyit'dofl'di',  o'lu^"',    o'ya'klio'       a'e' 

out  earth-on-and  again       did  he  its  body  cast  now,  it  other  and  again 

ho^saaya'dadyeii't'ho'    ne"  ne"    o'swe""dagon     e'da"ge'-klio'     a'e' 

thence  again  he  its  liody  drew  out    that       the  it  dead  tree-in  earth-on-and  again 

wooyri'don'dr,       o'ne"',     gi"o''',     o'ya'kho'    ho"saaye'dadyffi't'ho' 

did  he  its  body  cast  down,       now  it  is  said,        it  other-and       thence  again  he  its  body  drew  out 

e^da"ge'kho'     a'e'     wooya'don'di',     ne"   djo'a'ga',    ye'i'    gi's'^ha*^, 

earth-on-and  again    did  he  its  body  cast  down     the  raccoon,  six        it  is  believed, 

dja'duk   gi's'hit",     nigaya"dage'     ne"  djo'ii'ga'.     Da'    o'ne"'    na'e' 

seven         it  is  believed     so  many  its  body  in       the  raccoon.  So         now  truly 


'h^tt]  legends  775 

wui'efi',     "O'nf^"'     nfiV'     hc'Ikt      ha'dcpiyf-'i',"    o'nf"'     no"     nc" 

did  he  it  say,        "Now  tnily  there  just  two  it  suflice,"  now  the         Ihut 

na'e'     dondaadyil'(lon(t)     honsae"'dyoii'da't-kh()'      no"     (■'(lri"j^('''. 

truly  thence  Hiriin  he  his  hoiiy  tliereilid  lie  againstep-    and  tlie  earth-on. 

brought  ilown 

Da'     o'ne"'     a'c'      waas'hade°'da6"'     ne"     os'iia',     da'      o'lu'-"' 

So  now  ag-ain         did  he  it  toreliead  strap  the         it  foreliead        so  now 

lay  out  strap, 

wai"     no"ho'    ii'e'     waayil'dilsodjo'dg"'      no"     djo'a'<^il'     uo"kho' 

of  course       there  again        did  lie  it  bo<ly  put  in  a  pile  the  raccoon  that  and 

ne"        waat'hc'iionni'       n(>"'kho'        ne"        waaliwalia'cyon'         nc' 

the  did  he  it  bundle  inaice  that  anrl  the  did  he  it  wrap  up  repeatedly  the 

hot'he'naiyo"'    waadyennno'iil'.      Da'    o'ne'"     (li(|'   (li)fisaa('lir'ua"k 

he  his  bundle  lying  did  he  it  care  use.  So  now  loo       <lid  again  he  his  bundle 

there  take  up 

waatge"dat-kh(r,    o'ne"'    saa'defi'dl'     o'ne"'     no"ho'     saaflu''ua"k 

diti  he  it  bear  with  and  now       again  he  departed  now  there  again  he  his  jtack 

the  foreiiead  strap-  took  up 

waatge"dat-kho"       o'nf'"'       diq'       saa'(lf'i"i'(ll-       uc'lio-      liofisa'o' 

did  he  hit  bear  with  ancl  now  too,  again  iie  started  there  thither  ai;ain 

the  iorohead  strap  (then)  (also),  homeward  he  went 

hr'"'on\ve'     t'h()dino"'sot     nc"     ney()"s'ho"'()". 

there  where      there  their  lodge  stands    the         the  spouses  several. 

Nc"   o'nf'"'     lionsaa'yo"'    n(5"ho',     gi"o'",  waatiic'nayc"'  on'gyo' 

The         now  ttiilher  again    he  there  it  is  said,      did  hr  burden  place  indoors 

(time)  arrived 

h(''"'(iri\ve'    ni'anyo'cyot     no"  h()no"sc".     Da',  o'nc"",     gi"o"',    nc" 

there  where      there  his  form  abides       the  his  ttncle  So,  now,  it  is  said,        the 

(motfier's  brother).  (then), 

liafj;e"'(ljl    waas'nyc't     \vai'5n',     "Hot")',   ni^va'wC",     hoo',    niya'wC", 

heoid  person      did  he  it  speak      didheitsay,         "()h,         thence  may  it  oh,  thence  may  it 

(is)  come  to  pa,ss,  come  to  piLss, 

niya'wg"    wai".     O'ne"'    non'    e"wago'djIs    no"    do'gio"',    giVhii", 

thence m:iy  it       truly.  Now,  per-       will  it-mo  sulhco       the  eight,  it  may  be 

come  to  pa.ss,  (t  hen)  haps 

nigayS."dago'     no"     djo'ii'ga'." 

80-it-body-numl)er         tlie  raccoon." 

Da'     o'lio"'     na'o'      im"     liage"'djl     waayfncyofi'go'      (waayon- 

So,  now  verily         the         he  old  person  diddie-it-skin-remove 

(is)  respectively 

zyofi'go")      he"     nryoiT      no"ho';     waadyr'i'mo'k'dr'"'      gagvvc'go". 

as  so~nwny  in         there  (.so)  did  he-il -task  fiuish  it-enlire  (whole), 

(many)  number  (are), 

O'ne"'     na'e'     wa!l"sad()nnyofr      (\vaa"za(lonnyon')     gagvve'go". 

Now  verily        did  he  it-skin stretcti  (on  it-enlire  (whole), 

frames)  respectively 

Cm'nio'     o'n6"',      gi"o"',     ()'ga"h6"      o'nf"      wai"     o'hrr'sawi'"' 

Whenever  now,  it  is  said,  it  dried  now  indeed  did  he-it-begin 

(then), 

waa'd5'son'nI'     (waadozon'nl'),     ho'     ag\vas'     wl'yo     ne"     o'n6°' 

he  tanned  them  oh,  very  it-fine,  the  now 

Ijeautiful  (is) 

wai"      waady6nno'k'd5"'.     Da'     no"     na'o'      lia'gwas't'hS'      ne" 

Indeed  did  hc-it-t;isk-riiiish.  So  that  truly  he-it-wrap-useil  tor  that 

(it  is)  (it  is) 


776  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS  [f.th.  axn.  32 

ne"     djo'a'ga'     lyos'. 

the  raccoon  robe. 

Dyawe''''o"   na'e'-s'hon  ne"  degiksa''g6wa'    odikhon'ni,    agwas' 

All  the  time  just  only  the  two  they  children  they  ate,  very 

large  (are) 

sken'no"'    gagwe'go"     he^ngnno^don'mo". 

contentedly  it-all  they  were  thinking. 

Da'     o'lie"',    gi''o°',    ne"lio'     o'gas'nye't     o'ne"'    wa'a'ge"'     ne" 

So  now  it  is  there  it  spoke  now  did  it  say  Tthe 

(then),  said,  (then) 

dyego'wane",     "  E^diyeiida'gwa'     na'e',     yeyenda'gwas    ge^s'   ne" 

she,  the  elder  one  "Thoii-will  I  wood  get  truly,  one  gets  wood  usually      the 

(is), 

ne'     yen&nwas''he°'.     Hau"     o'ne"'     dyS.'den'dI'." 

that        one  husband's  people  Come,  now  let  us  two  start," 

is  with.  (then) 

Da'     ne"     diq'     o'ne°'     na'e'      lio'gniya'ge°'t     he"      odino°'sot 

So  that         more-  now  truly         thence  they  two  went      there       their  two  lodge 

over  (then)  out  of  doors  stands 

ne"ho'    wa"gne'    he°'onwe'    tgahada'ye"',    ne"ho'    ho'gwa,    gi"o'" 

there  thither  they        there  where         there  it  forest  (is),  there  aside,  it  is 

t  wo  went  said, 

o'gni'gg"'     tga'it     o'li6°. 

did  they  two       there  it-     it  dry  (is), 
it  see  tree  standi 

Ne"    ne*'     dye'gmvane"     ganenyaga°'e°nt    (tranenva'gan)     ye'a' 

That         the  she  elder  one  (is)  it  stone  white  (is)  she-it 

(it  is)  held 

deyot'hwe'non'ni     ne"     ne"ho'     wa'e'yeii     he"     ga'it     gagwe'go" 

it  round  (is)  that  there  did  she  it         there       it  tree  it  whole  (is) 

(it  is)  strike  stands 

na'e'    wa'ot'kae'    ne"klio'    ne"  tcoy^ndasodjot's'hoii.      Da'  o'ne°', 

truly  did  it  sound  that-and       the  only  it  wood  pile  left  (is).  So  now 

(then) 

gi^'o"',    ne"ho'    o'gyat'he'nonni*     o'gis^hayen'don'     ne''    ne"     ho'- 

it  is  there  did  they  two  pack  make         did  they  two  cord  fas-  that        the        did  it- 

said,  ten  to  each 

gis"ut     ne"    sgaondat'-geno°';     da'     o'ne"*  diq'  o'g3^atge"dat  ne" 

it  exhaust        ihe       one  it  tree  number(s)-was;        so  now        more-  did  tliey  two  it  bear    the 

(then)        over       by  fore hea,d- baud 

dega'he'n^ge'     o'ne°'     diq'     sagy^'deii'dr. 

two  it  pack  DOW  more-  back  they  two 

number  (then)  over  started. 

Da'      o'n6°'      honsagni'yo"'       he"'onwe'       tyodino^'sot       o'ne°' 

So  now  there  again  they  two  there  where  there  their  lodge  now 

(then)  ajrived  stands  (then) 

ne"ho*     he' '      ga'  'hogaiu      ne'  'ho'      honsagi'yo"'      o'ne°'      ne'  'ho' 

there  where  it-door  (is)  there  there  again  they  now  there 

two  entered  (then) 

o'tgyadekha"sI'     he"     ga"hogamj    o'ne"',   gi"o"',  dagyadyen't'ho' 

did  they  two  separate         where  It-door  (is),  now  it  is  said,    tliither  they  two  it  draw 

(then), 

ne"     gas''ha'    dedja'o'^-gw'a    na'gano"'sadI    o'dwat'hwada'se'    ne" 

the  it-pack-  both-sides  there  it  lodge  side(s)  did  it  around  go  the 

strap 

gano'^'sot     ne"     oyen'd^'. 

it-lodge  stand         the  it-wood. 


CCliTlN,"] 

hkwittJ 


LEGENDS 


777 


Da'    o'ii6"',    cri"o"'    hoiisiii^I'vo"'    ne"   gano''sgon'wa.    Da'  o'nfi"', 


itissaid     thiltior ajj:uii  tliey 
two  entered 


the 


it-lodge-in. 


gi   o"',     wa  a  ge" 

il  is  said,         did  she  say 


g6"s 

usually       truly 


I  lie 


"IIoo',      uiya'we 

l["oo,  thanks: 

ongwa  t  'gallon  iii'  wai ' . 

we  are  wealthy  truly." 


ne"      no"       dye'gowilnf",      "  Yondyefulaj'e'o"' 

that  the  she,  the  elder  one  "  fine  wood  for  fire  patliers 

yen6nw!ls'h6"V'     wa'onwao'wl'    no"    hago"'(ljI. 

he  is  with  her  hiLsband's  did  she-hiin  tell  t  he     he,  old  man  (is). 

people,'' 

niya'wC",      wai-,"      wai'gfi'      ne"      hag6"'djl, 

thanks,  truly,"  did  he  say         the        he, old  man,  (is) 


agwas 

"very 

O'ne"' 

Now  (then) 


no' 

the 


gofifhofnvi'sils 

they  women  (;ire) 

o'ni?'"     waado'diag 

now  (then)        did  he  grow  up 


ne        nc        wo  o'"      dwonni    dio" 

that  the  faraway     there  they  (/<;«.)  abide 

o'ne"'      na'e'     o'we"nei'mina"'d()g     no''      no' 

now(theJi)    vejily  did  they  notice  that  llie 

ne"       Hat'hon'das       ne"       ne'      IIi)tkwisdadcgr'""a'      no"      no" 

the  He,  the  Listener,        that  (is)         the  He,  the  Scorched  Paunch       that  (is)         the 

Dooii'dane'go"',   ge'i'    nigon'di.     Da'    o'ne"'     na'e'     ne"   yego"'djI, 

four      so  many  they         So  now  verily  the  .she.  old 


Two.  lie.  Feathers 
Toselhcr  (is). 


"O'nt'"' 

"  Now 
(then) 

s-ho^'o"," 

children,'* 

wa'a'gg"' 

did  she  it  say 

ne"     no" 

that         the 

Da' 


lio"swatgondi1k 

Ihil  her  will  you  Ko 


ne 

that 


wa  a  go' 


;e"'. 

did  she  it  say. 

yege'"djT, 


()  no"' 

now 
(then) 

Se"' 

Three 

"Is' 

"  You 


now 

(then) 

lio"soswan!i"'t;wag\vria'     jiio' 


thither  will  ynu  him  fetch  as  a  spouse 


my 


na'dewannoiido"'nonde'.     O'nt^"' 


ne 

the      ■    she,  oltl  woman 

he"sona"g  wagwil '  1 1  a ' . " 

thither  wilt  thou  fetch  him  as  siiouse. 


so  many  they  (are)  >isters 

e"tchadye'o"t      no' 

will  vou  he  first  the 


Now  (thcJi) 

sego'wilno" 

you  eldest  (are 


o'nC'"',     gi"o"',      o'wadia'gon'nl'     no"  ne" 

So         now  (then)     itissaid,         did  they  hre;id  make       that  the 

dyii"go",       o'nt""'       wai"     o'wadl't'ho't    no"  so"' 

t  ho  three 


dogana"'lious- 

it  ''  marri.ige '' 

niwoniion'dl' 

so  many  they  number 


the 


g!ig!ii'df""do"    n!l""ot    ne' 


il-li<)iled-in-:ishes 

tir',     tir', 

lu",  tu'' 


kind  of         the 

11'',      Sl)"go"' 
lu".         It  sounded 


bread,  now  (i  hen)         iridy  did  I  hey  pound 

ne''     W(?"nondo'go""s'ho"'o",     no"    no'' 

they  sisters  (are),  lluit        the 

No"     no"    wai''    no''     tu'', 

it  bread.  That         the  truly       tlie  tu", 

hf'"'oriwe'     o'wadit'he't. 

Ihejc  where  did  Ihey  pound  it. 

Da'djI'ii's'hon,   gi"<)"',    o'no"'     wa'otli!i"gwaiis   n&'  gonyak'fha', 

In  a  short  time,  i:  is  said,    now  (then)    di<i  their  brea<l  get  done    the     one  it  uses  to  marry, 

oa"gwS,' 


it  bre;id 

'hiigon 

ket-in 

ne"klu)' 

thut-and 


degana"'horisdyri"go"     traya'so",     da'       o'ue"*         ga'as'- 

it  •■  m.trriat;*^ "  f)road  it  eaUod  is,  so  now  (ihcn)  il-bas- 

wa'agoiiMil'      iie"       iio*'       dewas'iio"         uiyoa"g\viigo', 

did  one  it  jiut  that  iho  twu-tens  (twenty)     so  many  it  loaves  number 

wtl'a'gC"',       "Ilau",       o'ne"' 

did  she  it  say,  "Oome,  now  (then) 


no 

the 


•'     yeg6"'djr        o'n6"' 

shi",  old  woman        now  (then) 


ga'tcl     ne'klio'    do"s'da't."     Da'     u'n6"'     ne' 

hither  here  wilt  thou  stand."      So        now  (then)      the 

come  thou 


goa'wak 

her  daughter 


no"lio' 

there 


778 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETH.  AXN.  .12 

"      goa'wak 


o'dye'da't,     ne"kho'     ne"      o'ne"'      wn'agaot'ga'      ne 

did  she  stand,  that-and  the        now  (then)     did  she  her  hair  comb       the  her  daughter 

ne.''kh()'     ne''     gasennag&"o"     wa'ago"ga'    ne"   ne"    gono'5n"ge', 

that -and  the  it-perfume  (smell-  did  she  her  that         the  her  head-on, 

sweet)  anoint 

ne"kho'     ne''      wa'agonyS-'tchi'do'de"',      agwas'     daj'e'do'es     ne" 

that-and  the  did  she-her-t op-knot  set  on,  very  did  she  it  taut  make     the 

gsi'he''sa',     agwas'     dedjagogao'gwao"s'hou     so"djI'     wa'e'ni'iid. 

it-band,  very  .       did  she  eye-sockets-have-only  too  much  did  she  it  taut 

make. 

Da'    o'ne"',    gi'o"',  ne"      yege°'djl     wti'ti'ge"',     "  Hau"     o'ne"' 

So         now  (then)    it  is  said      the       she,  old  woman       did  she  it  say,         "Come,        now  (then) 

ne"ho'     lio'se"    he"'onwe'     we'e"     if'he's     ne"     Dooa'dane'ge"' ; 

there  thither  go        there  where  far  there  he  goes       the  Two  ITe  Feathers 


thou 


away 


about 


Together  Are 


ne"     ne"     e^wi'he'ag'     hS."degagon     e''honwa"o'wr.     Dil'    dja'go° 


the 


will  I  be  think- 
ing 


without  fail 


will  she  him  tell. 


So    do  thou  take 
courage 


diq.       Agwas'     na'e'     ot'hyo"gwanr      he"'onwe'      de^syaya'k'dak 

moreover.       Very  verily  it  is  frightful  there  where         wilt  thou  it  use  to  cross 


na'-'gii" 

this  (it  is) 


this  (it  is) 


ganyo'dae'." 

it  lake  (is)." 


Da' 

So 


o  ne"', 

now  (then) 


'„n< 


it  is  said, 


wa  'oiidadege'  'dad 

did  she-her  place  it  on.  with 
forehead  band 


O'ne"' 

Now 


ga'as''ha'     oa"gwa'     i'wad. 

it  basket  it-bread         it  contains  it. 

na'e'     wti'o"'d6n'dI'   ne'     dye'gowane".     Wa'e'yo"'    na'e' 

verily  did  she  start  the  she,  eldest.  Did  she  arrive         verily 


he"'onwe'      t'hadina°'ge'      ne"     ne"     Dooa'dane'ge"'      ha'wadji'a' 


there  where 


ne 

the 


there  they  inhabit 

'     weC's'lioil 

far  away  only 

"       t'hono'''sot       ne" 

there  his  lodge  stands       the 


that 


the 


his  c'an 


o  ne°      wai' 

now  (then)    truly 


O'ne"' 

now  (then) 


Two  He  Feathers 
Together  Are 

dedyega'ne'      ne"ho'     deyega'ne'     ne" 

there  she  looked  from        there  did  she  look  that 

Dooii'dane'ge"'        Da' 

"Two  Feathers  So 

Together." 

o'yo'nis'he't       ne"ho'       niyo"den      da'a'on'      aun'w;i°'g6"'     mi'e'. 

it  was  long  time  there  (thus)  so  it  was  not  able  could  she  him  see        verily. 

Dyengwa"s'hon,     gi"o°',      o'ne"'       daaya'g5°'t        ne" 

Suddenly,  it  is  said,      now  (then)        thence  he  emerged  the 

dane'ge"'     ne"kho'     ne'      o'ne"'      o't'hat'ga'do".        O'ne"' 

there-and  the        none  then        he  did  look  around.  Now 


ajTwas 


Dooa'- 

"Two 


verily 


Feathers 
Together" 

waa"dendr,      o'ne"',     gi"o"',    hogwa"s'hon     ne"ho'     dedye'gane' 

there  thence  she  looked 


did  he  start,  now,  it  is  said,  aside-just 

ne"        yeksa"g6wa.        Ne"kho'       ne'' 

the  she  maiden  (is).  That-and  the 

ne"kho'      ne"      wil'at      doskeno°'s'hou 

that-.md  the       did  he  stop  nearby-Just 

ne"     yeksa"gowa. 

the  she  maiden  (is). 


o'n?"'       waadowii't'ha' 

now  (then)  did  he  to  lumt  go 

he"'onwe'       dedyega'ne' 

there  where  thence  she  looked 


Da' 

So 


o'ne"' 

now  (then) 


ne"ho' 


there 


waatgouMuk 

did  he  start  for 


lie"'onwe' 

there  where 


det^hado- 

Ihere  he  it  to 
hunt  uses 


^.''-JJ,',^;,]  LEGENDS  779 

wiis'lha'.       Ne"kli()'     lur'     iie''ho'       deyefijaiie'dio'      he"      wa'c', 

That-and  the  Ihero  thonoe  sho  looked-         where       Ihenre  he 

along  weui, 

ne"ho'-kho'     na'o'      ho'wa'Mo"'.       Djok'     o'nG"',    gi"o"',     ne"ho' 

there    -and  verily  thither  it  disap-         Quickly,  now,  it  is  said,  there 

peared. 

Wil''6"'        o'liC"'        iia'c'       \vaun\va"s''lie'  -klio'  w&'ofiwaya'di- 

thithershe  now  verily  di<l  sh'- iiim  pursue       -and  did  she  liim  seek 

wejit 

sak'ha'-kho'     dwadrides'i'i''do"     na'e'. 

-and  did  siie  lier  best  do  verily. 

Agwas'        we'("",      gi"()"',     ri«"h()'         uiyii'(lii"'a(li(''       lios''ho'. 


Very               farawiiy,         it  is  said, 

there                so  it  continued  to  be 

slie-him  fol- 
lowed. 

Dy5ngw&"-se 

ho'dyegaiiii'die' 

iie"lio'       t'liii'die's 

he" 

tgii'- 

Suddenly 

thither  she  is  looking 
as  sh«  Went 

thrrc               thoro  lio  W(Mit        whero 
clirabin^  aboiil 

there  it 

it       ne"     lie' 

'     gaoi'idas'dtM'i'. 

Da'     o'lu'"'     lul'o'     ne' 

'ho' 

\va'- 

tree        that        the 
stands  (it  is) 

it  tree  large  (is) . 

So             now         ,  verily            th' 
(I  hen) 

pre 

thither 
did  she 

6"',     wil'e'yo" 

'-kho'      he'-'ou'we 

'     t^ni'it      te""6"     diq' 

nu 

'e^      do- 

go,           thither  slio 
arri\oii 

-and             theri'  where 

thiTi'  it                 not            niort- 
tree  xliiiuls                               over 

verily      not  he 

ouo"'dc)"';       I 

loskeu'o"      uo"llo' 

o'dye'du't       he"'ouwe 

I 

iiit^a'it. 

it  aware  of  (is); 

near                   there 

did  stie  stand              there  where 

there  it  tree 
stands. 

Ne"ho'    gaondak"il'    i'yet    t'hiyagodye'e".     Da'    ne"    kho"    ne" 

There  (it  it  tree  beside  she  she  kept  still.  So  that  and  tlio 

is)  stands 

djo'a'g&'     odyJl'thlde'nyon',     agwas'     nti'e'      o'n6°',      gi"'o"',    nii"' 

raccoon  did  it  exchange,  body(s)  very  verily  now  it  is  said,         so 

{  =  body  after  body)  '  (then), 

niyoya'da'so'djes     ne"     djo'ii'ga'.      Da'     ue"li()'     deyega'ne'     ne' 

so  it-bodv  pile  high  (long)         the  raccoon.  So  there  she  is  watching       the 

(is) 

Dooa'ihuie'gC"'     hoyo"de'     ne"     ne"     yeks.1"g6wa.     Da'     ne"h()' 

**  Two  Feaifiers "  he  is  working        that         the  she  maiden  (is).  So  there 

"Together" 

ho'dye'd&'t       o'ne'"      na'e'      wa'es'tiyet        ne"       ne"       wa'a'ge"", 

did  she  stop  now  (then)       verily  di<l  she  speak  tliat  the  did  she  say, 

"Hau",       Do"dasadyri"den         (do"dasadya"di!nt)       o'nC'""       non' 

"Come,  thence  thou  thy  body  now  (then)      perhapi 

bring  down 

na'e'      dases"a't."       Dyet"igwii"s'hoi'i      ne"ho'     o'gas'nye't       ne" 

verily         thence  you  (thou)  Suddenly  there  did  it  cry  out  the 

it  hast  exhausted." 

g\ve"g\ven'o",     "Kwc"',     kvvt'"',     kwe"',"     o"ge"';       wa'e'ge"'     ni- 

yellowhammer,  "KwC°',  kwe»',  kwri',"  did  it  say;  did  she  it  see       Just 

g!lha(hlgeu'yat"s'lioi"i     ue"h()'     wrt'ot'diiidie'. 

it  forest-edge-  there  thither  it  fiying  .sang 

along. 

O'nS"'      ne"      ne"     yeksa"g6wfi     wil'es'nye't       wai'f'fi'       dit]' 

Now  that  the  she  maiden  did  she  speak  did  she  it  say        more- 

over, 

"A'gi,     g6n"     aweudon'nya't,     o'ne"'     wai"     \varikna"'kh\va"de''' 

"A'gi,  e-xceed-         it  discouraging  (is),  now  truly  did  he  me  anger 

ingly 


780 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 


lETU.  ANN.  32 


lie' 

the 


Dooa'dane'ge"'."      Djok'     ogomla'die'     wa'o''tge'd&"si'     ho'- 


'  Two  Feathers 
Together." 


it  it  followed 


did  she  burden  unloose 


aside 


gwa'-kho'      wa'agos"ho' 

-and  did  she  it  pour  out 

was"he°     niyoa"gwage'. 


so  many  it  loaves 
number. 


ne" 

the 

Da' 

So 


oa"gwa'-gen'o''', 


it  feread-it  was, 


ne''     ne"     de- 

that  the  two 

o'ne"'     diq'     sayo"'d6n'dr,     ne"- 

nowthen      more-  she  went  home, 


more- 
over 


ho'      honsa'ye"'      ht'"'ouwe'     dwSnni''dio''' 


Ganio"s'hon 

As  soon-just 


again  she  ar- 
rived, 

nonde'     godino"e"-kho'. 

their  mother -and 

yo"',    da'    o'ne"'    na'e'    wa'a'ge" 

rived,         so  now  verily         did  she  say 

a'we°'-heg6wa     de's'ha'wi' ?"     Da' 

happened-so  greiit  not  thou  him  bring        So 

wilh^hee?" 

j-es'nj-e't      wai'eu',       "Ne"      I" 

sheanswered       did  she  it  say,         "The  I 

eu"     non'     do5no'''go'was     se^''^"." 

I  think      per-  not  it  him  atlects 


ne' 

the 


deweunonda"'- 

they  are  sisters 


na  e' 

verily 


now 


honsaye'- 

there  again 
she  ar- 


ne"     yege"'tci,     ''Gwe',    na"'- 

Ihe       she,  old  woman,       "Well,  what 

o'ne°'    ne"    yeksii"g6wa     da- 

now  the  .she  maiden  (is)         thence 


da'a'o°* 

not  able 


per- 
haps 


indeed.' 
in  lacl.' 


Da'     wa'es'nye't     ne"    ono"e° 


So 


did  she  speak 


the       her  mother 


wai  en  , 

did  she  it  say. 


I  it  can  do 


•'Na'e'-kho' 

"Verily-      and 


so"dji' 

because 


de'gon- 

not  I  thee 


ya"daa's     so"djr    ne"   is'   nisadye'ii't,    sanil'go'was.     Da'     o'ne°' 


depend  on 


because 


na  e' 

verily 

'ho", 

est  (is), 


wayagwe'ul' 

did  he  thee  over- 
come. 


ne" 

that 


na  e' 

verily 


the       thou 

O'ne"' 

Now 

agwas' 

ver  y 


thou  liable  to 
attack  art. 


so  thou  not 
smart  tarl  j, 

ne" 

that 

over 

kheya'Maa's.       ©'ne""' 

I  her  depend  on.  Now 


So 


now 
(theii) 


diq' 

more- 
over 


e°yo°'dgn'dI'     ne"     gos't- 

did  she  start  more-        the      she  young- 


diq' 


na  e* 

verily 


(^"swaa'gon'nl'    ne"    ne"  degaaa"'hoi"isdya"go"     ne"     ne"    dewas'- 


you  bread  make  (Imp.)    that       the 

iie'^       ne^'yonk.     Hau", 

(twenty)      so  many  will  Come, 

it  number. 

"Hau","     o'ne°' 

"Come "  now 

na'e'     o'wadia'gou'nl' 

verily         did  they  (ftm.)  bread 
make 


' '  raarriage-bread  ' 
n<  " 


that 


o  ne 

now.' 


o'waillf'he't 

did  they  poimd 

ne"    ne''    dewas''lie"     nl'you, 


ne' 

the 


o  neu  o" 

it  corn. 


the 


Da' 

So 

da' 


that       the 


two  tens 
(twenty) 


^0  many  they 
number, 


o'ne"' 

now 

o'ng"' 

now 


na  e' 

verily 

na'e' 

verily 


o'wadia"go' 

did  they  (fern.)  bread 
make 


ne 

that 


ne" 

the 


dewas"he"      nl'you,      da' 


two  tens 
(twenty) 


so  many  t  hey 
number, 


O'ne' 

now 


n< 


o'wadia"g6'    degana°'honsdya"go''   gaya'so". 

"marriage-bread"  it  is  called. 


Ganio"    o'gai" 


did  they  (fern.) 
bread  boil 


da'     o'ne 

so       then  (now)      verily 

Da'      o'ne"'      na'e 

So  now  (then)        verily 


na'e'     ga'as''hagon     wa'agon'dii' 


it  basket-in 
it  is  said. 


did  one  it  place  in. 

wt\'ago3^ot'ga' 

did  she  her  hair  combed 


As  soon  as 


ue"kho' 

that -and 


did  it 
cuok 


ne* 

the 


CUKTIN."] 


LEGENDS 


781 


no' '     wil'agouyrvtchi'do'- 

the  did  she  her  top-knot  fix  on, 

wa  ewilhil ' "  cyo  u '     agwas ' 

did  she  it  wntp  severally  very 


"Mjl 


lie 

that 


g3,sru"iiiagri"()"       W!l'agao"gri'       iie"kli()' 

it  srni'U  swoct  did  slie  her  anoint  tlult-aml 

(pertmne)  Willi 

de°',    agwas'       wae'niad      iie'klio'     uc' 

very       did  she  it  taut  malie      thal-and  the 

(l6'gr'"s     doMjagogao'gwao'  's'hdiT. 

it  certain  not  she  eyel)rows  li;is  ju^t . 

Da.'      ganio"       wri'ofidyeniio'k'de"'       iic'     J'egf 

So  assoouas  ciid  slie  InT  tasic  finish  the        she  old  woman 

gonwayfi'd&sgflnon'ur    da'    o'lie"'    iia'c    wa'()fuladge"dat    (for  wJl'- 

she  her  body  adorns  thus'       now         verily         did  she  her  pack  with 

the  forehead  band 

onwage"drit)     ue"    ga'as"lia'    iie"    lu;''     oa■'g^v^l'     I'wad,     "  Ilaif 

the  it  basket  thai         the  it-bread  it  it  in  is.         "Come, 

o'ne"'       sa'dofi'dr,"     wa'a'go"'     uc'     yege°'djl,     •' dja'go"        diq', 

now  thou,  do  start,"         did  she  it  say         the       she,  old  woman,    "  Takooourafio    moreover, 

g()nyil"daa's 

I  thee  trust 

Dja'- 

Take 


is'       wai"      lul'dcga'goii       6"s'hegwe'nl',       iigwas' 

thou  truly  without  fail  wilt  thou  him  overcome,  very 

sS°"e",     M'degfi'gon     de"t'hes''ha\vr     ne''    Dooa'daiio'ge"' 


in  fact, 


without 


thenco  wilt  thou  him  bririK      the 


'  Two  Feathers.' 
"Together" 


ycksil^gowa 

she  iiuudon  ( isj 


ne"lio' 

there 


go"       diq'.** 

coura^'t'    moreover." 

Da'    o'ne''S     gi''o"\     \va'n"(icnMl'       ue*' 

So  now  (then),    it  is  said.         did  she  deiKiri  the 

w^'ofitgon'duk     he^'ouwtv      tiiadina"Vo*     no/'    IIutk\visd;ulegi''""]V 

did  she  herself  direct         there  where  there  they  dwell  the  "Scorched  i'aiuich" 

ha'hwlidji'a'.     Go'ils'hage"de*     no' '    o'luV"     hwa'e'yo"'      he"'ofi\ve' 

his  clan.  She  hii^ket  bore  bv  the  nnw  there  did  she  there  where 


She  biisket  bore  by 
the  forehead 


nnw 
(then) 


there  did  she 
arrive 


t'hadiiia"'gc\        o'n?"'        ua'e' 

there  they  <lwell,  now  verily 


doskr'u'o"    he"'{)fi\vo'    nihodino^/sot 

ne;irby  Iheri'  where      there  iheir  lodfje  stand 

Agwas'    a'e\  gi'V",     o'yonis''he't 

Very  again,     it  is  said,        it  wasa  loni;  while       iiKtiin 


nc'h()''s'liou        godrrse'donMie's 

there  just  she  lierself  hid  from  j>I:ico 

lo  place 

nc"  ruV    g()nwaya"di*sak'hjl\ 

th;it        the  they  (  ftm.)  him  to  seek  wtnt 

a'e'    ne''ho'    trodil'so'don 'die's. 

there 


she  herself  hid  from  place  to 
place. 


Dycngwa'-se        daa3^a'gtV''t      agwas       a'e'     o't'iuit  'gfrdo"      agwas' 

Suddenly  (hence  he  came  out  very  again        <lid  he  look  around  very 

waadyefmou'nr,  o'ne"S     gi"o"',    waa"dendr    ne''ho'     na'c'     waat- 


did  he  take  pains,  now  then,      it  is  said,  did  he  start 

gon'dilk     lir'"'()iiwe^     t'ha<l()as't*lia\     O'ne"' 

hirasi'U  direct        there  where       there  he  it  lo  hunt  uses.  Now 

wa''e"',      o'ne"'    wai" '  Wil'onwits''he\     ne"h() 

Ihitherdid  now  truly        tlid --^he  him  pur^^ue,  there 

she  go . 

heawe'non.       Dii''      o'ne' 

thither  did  he  go.  So  now 

o'nC"'      dycMlgwii'  's'hon 

now  suddenly  just 

ne"ho'        fhii'de's. 

there  there  he  is  climb- 

ing about. 


there  verily         did  he 

kho''      a'e'     ne''ho' 

and  ag;un  there 

vva"e"',     he"'on\ve' 

thither  did         there  where 
she  go, 

o'yo'nis'he't        ne*'ho*       nidyagoye'e" 

did  it  last  a  long  time  there  so  she  contiruied 

a'e'        o'ne'"        wa'onwa'ge"*        he''tke" 

again  now  did  she  him  see  above 


782  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [Era.  axx.  32 


^'nSni 


na'e'     wa'oiideye°'o°s     ne"     ne"    goda'se'don 'die's 

So        DOW  (then)      verily  did  she  do  carefully  that  the       she  herself  hid  from  place 

to  place 

ne"ho'.       Ne''       ne"       ga'it       ge°s'        sayondawe°'dat,       ne"ho' 

there.  That  the       it  tree  stands    usually       again  she  herself  interpolate,  there 

ge^s'     wa'  e°'     he"'oiiwe'     o'ya'     tga'it.        Da'     o'ne°'     wa'a'f'he 

usually     did  she  go        there  where  it  other     there  it  tree  So  now        did  she  him  over- 

stands,  look  (overhaul) 

ne"ho'    wii'e'yo"'    he°'ouwe'    ga'it,    o'ne"'     diq'     ne"ho'    wa'on'- 

there         did  she  there  there  where        it  tree  now       moreover         there  did  she  her- 

arrive  stands, 

dyen';      ne''ho'     yenyo"cyot     ga.oudak"a'     ne"klio'    ne"    ne"ho' 

Self  seat;  there  she  sat  it  tree  beside  that  and  the  there 

wa'ondya'da"dI'     he"      ga'it.      Da'     ne"ho'     kho"     ga'as'ha'ye"' 

did  she  lean  where    it  tree  stands.      So  there  and  it  basket  lay 

ne"     ne"     oa"gwa'      gaa'gwada'nio"'.        Do'os't'hoii      daaninon- 

that  the  it  bread  it  bread  contained  were  Not  in  the  least  did  he  it 

severally. 

dok'ha'   ne"     Dooa'dane'g§°',     agwas',   ne"  ne"     odya'd^de'nyon 

realize  the  "  Two  Feathers  very,  the       that  it  its  body  changed 

Together" 

ne"  djo'a'ga'.       Ne"h(>'  o'yo'nis'he't      na'e'       t'hiyagodyee"'s'lion 

the  raccoon.  There     did  it  last  a  long  while      verily  just  she  kept  quiet  just 

ne"     yeksa"gowa. 

the  she  maiden  (is). 

Ne"     gwa'     ne"     Dooa'dane'ge°'     o'ne°'      o't'hatga"do°     kho" 

Tiiat       indeed         the  "  Two  Feathers"  now  did  he  look  about  and 

"Together" 

we6°"s'hon     waat'hwada'se'     e'da'ge"-kho'.     Dy6ngwa"-se    o'ne°' 

far  away  just  did  he  circle  make  below-and.  Suddenly  now 

dondaadya"den      (dondaadja"den)     skeiiuo°"on'      ne"kho'       ne" 

thence  he  descended  slowly  that  and  the 

hoeil'he'cyoii'ne'  tchi-dondaondya'dendoil'dye',  agwas'  ha'do°sa6fi'- 

he  stopped  betimes  moving  while  thence  he  descended  come  very  back  again  he 

dyon'da't     ne"     ne"     gaondak"a',     sgaonda'dl'     gwa'     he"'onwe' 

stepped  that  the  it  tree  beside,  it  tree  on  the  just  there  where 

other  side 

niyenyo"cyot. 

just  she  is  seated. 

Da'     o'ne°',     gi"o°',     dondayedas'dtik     agwas'      o'dyago'sai'ye" 

So  now,  it  is  said,         thence  she  arose  quickly  very  did  she  move  quickly 

wa'oilt'hwada'se'      he"        ga'it        ne"ho'    i'yad    ne"  Dooa'dane'- 

did  she  go  around  where       it  tree  stands        there         he  stood      the  "Two  Feathers 

Together." 

ge°'.     T'ha'gwis'de"'      na'e'      nonsaa'ye'      ne"      ne"      haade"go' 

Not  Anything  verily  can  he  do  that  the  could  he  escape 

ne"s'hon       na'e'       o's'hagotga't'ho',     wooyon'dl'      ne"kho'      ne" 

that  only  verily  did  he  her  look  at,  did  he  smile  that  and  the 

wooi'wanaa'go'        he"       niyeksa"g6wa.        O'gowandigwe'nl'      ne- 

did  he  marvel  where       so  she  beautiful  maiden  (is).       Did  they  him  overcome         the 


CUIITI 
HEWITT 


x.-I 
ftJ 


LEGENDS 


783 


yo"s'ho°'o°,  ne"  sr'""P"     oiVrniiiii'fjwat     ha'e'gwii'     (lcn;iks!l"g6\va. 

his  wives,  flut        in  l;ut  it  matter  marvelous  also  they  arc  beautiful. 

Da'      o'ne"'     wai''      no"      yeksa"g6wa      o'gonwagwe'nl'      ne" 

So  now  truly  the  she,  raaidon  did  she  him  overcome  that 

kho"     ue''     o'lio"'     nii'&     wil'a'ge"',     "  Ilau",    sadon'is'hen      dc- 

iind  the  now  verily  did  she  say,  "Come,  do  Ihou  thyself  rest        ihoii 


sasge  yon 

weary  art 


non 

perhaps 


dyawo' 


o" 


(.ljn\v5""o") 


CniUlIlUUllv 


ue'kho*     6°sa'dy5fr    no''    ue"    6"ffom'sa'ge' 


here  wilt  thou  thysolf    that 

seat 


the 


will  T  thee  swirch 


he'tkC^Vhon     sii'dc's, 

ubovo-just  thou  art 

climbiiij;, 

nc'ldio'      diq'     e'^sut'- 

hcro  mnre-         will  thou 

over  lechno 


thy  heiid      whore 


he"     dekko 'gCu' 


ne'kho'  diq'    dekho'gcfi' 

here       moreover       between  my 
thifhs 


between  mv 
tliighs 

"Hau",     ne'kho'     o'ne°'       sa'dyefi'." 

"Come,  here  now  do  thou  tliyself  seat 

Da'     o'nt5°',     gi"o",     ne/'ho" 

So  now  it  is  said,  there 


de°segri'ne'k. 

Shalt  thou  gaze. 


Wiia 


now 
(then), 

he°'onwe'        nigaiiii"<lo"'  ne" 

there  where             just  she  indicated  the 

ne"ho'        waatgo°'hen'.  O'ne"' 

there            did  he  his  head  recline.  Now 


'dyc^u' 

did  he  himself 
^ieat 


ne" 

the 


j^eksii"g6wa 

she  maiden 


verily 


Dooii'dane'gS"' 

"Two  Feathers 
'I'ogether  " 

ne"k]io'       ue" 

that  and  the 

\va'ouvvai"sake"'       o'- 

did  she  him  .search  did 


yo'nis'he't,     gi"o"',     ne"lio'     niyo"dii 


it  long  while  last,      it  is  saiii, 


o  ne"'      na  0' 

now  verily 


very 


Ne"kho'  ne"  wao'da', 

0           so  it  continued.           That-and  the  did  he  sleep, 

non'      woe's6"dani"hc't.  Da'  o'ne"', 

perhaps       did  his  sleep  become  sound.  So  now 


gi"o"',    ne"ho'  wri'es'nyo't, 

it  is  said,         there  did  she  speak 


wai'en',     "  Gwe', 


did  she  it 
.sav, 


'  Come, 


I'<ljC'.' 

do  thou 
awake." 


Da'    <)'- 

So  new 


n6"' 
klio' 

and 

iia'e' 

verily 

'heo't 


ne"s'hon    gagwe'go"    o'wadodj'a'norr    ne" 

that-just  it  entire  did  it  move  severally         the 

ne"    o'ne"'     goyii'gon'     wa'on\vil'no""da' 

the  now  her  potich  in  <licl  she  him  enclose 


first 


now 
(Ihi-n) 


ne' 

the 


oa'  gwa 

it  bread 


iwa'dak. 

did  it  hold. 


Djok' 

.\t  once 


haj^fi."da'ge'    ne" 

his  body  on  that 

Wil'agos''ho'-kho' 

did  she  it  empty-and 

o'ne"'      wil'ondas- 

now  did  she  it  at- 

tach to  a 
forehead  band 


Wii'ontge"(lrid,      ugwan 

did  she  it  bear  on  her  very 

back  by  the  forehead 
band. 


iia  e 

verily 


os'de' 

it  heavy 
(is) 


hod!l"o» 

he  asleep  (is) 


wai' 

truly 


ne"     Dooi'i'danc'gg'" 


We'e"' 

Far  away 


'Two  Feathers 
Together." 

niyu'we' 

so  it  distant 
(is) 


hetryiigawc'nnn 

thither  she  returned  has 


ne' 

the 


o'stf'n'fiet 

It  rock-  sharp 
(is) 


ga  nio 

as  soon  as 


Wil'oii'dj'en'       wa'ewrdul"  'si' 

did  she  hei  wlf  se.ai  did  she  it  unbind 


nc"ho' 

there 

ne" 

that 


e     llO' 
there 


-ni' 


ga'steu'de' 

it-rock  projects 


ne 

that 


wa  e  yo 

did  she  arrive 


o'n?"' 

now 
(then) 


ne"ho' 

I  here 


noy     goClic'naio"'     ne*'     no'' 

ihe  her  bundle  lying  that  ihe 

lor  her  " 


784 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETH.  ANN.  32 


goiiwadigwenj'on'adie'     ne"klio'    ne"     o't'hon\va]io'''e""lieut.     Da' 

the 


she  hira  overcame,  returning  that  and 

o'ne"'     kho'     ne"     wa'a'ge"', 

now  and  the         did  she  it  say, 

(then) 

a'e"     ilayonde"hasdon',     "Hau'', 

again       thence  she  force  employed.  "Come, 

Dyengwa"-se      o'ng"',     gi''o°', 

Suddenly  now,  it  is  said. 


Hau' 

''  Come 

now 
(then) 


did  she  hi:;  head  shook.  So 

o'lie""      i'dje'."      Agwas' 


now 
(then) 


do  thou 
awake.*' 


Very 


did  she  it  say, 


' '  Cyende  'i-ge" '      ne ' kho '  ? 

here?' 


i'dje',"     yon'do"'. 

do  thou         she  it  contin- 
awake,"  ued  to  say. 

wS,'a'ye'.       Da'      d'hS"'     wai', 

did  he  awake.  So  now  truly 

(then) 

Da'     o'n6° 


now 
(then) 

gi"o"^' 


"Thou  it 
knowest- 


dost 
thou 


O  - 

did 


t'hat'ga'do" 

he  his  eyes  open 

kho'     ge"s' 

usually 

0'u(5"'      ne' 

Now  the 


ne"kho' 

that-and 

dcyakne"nisdayehda'  'gvva' 


ne' 

the 


wai  en  , 

did  he  it  say. 


"Tgaye'i'     gyende'i.     Ne'- 

"  It  full  (is)  I  it  know.  Here 

ne"     djonaen"da'." 


two  we  it  snares  to  set  use 


the 


elk.' 


yeksa"gowa      dayes'nye't      wai'fin',      "Cyende'i 


war  , 

truly. 

kho" 

and 

ne" 

the 

ne"ho' 

there 

ne"ho' 

there 


o  ne' 


now 
(then) 


agam 


she,  maiden 


gwa        non 

just  perhaps 

de"tchega'na'k 

again  wilt  thou  keep 
looking 


she  replied 


did  she  it  say, 


a'e'      e°sgofii'sa'ge°' 


agam 


will  I  thee  search 
for 


'Thou  it  dost 
know 

ne"ho's'hon 

there-just 


he"'onwe'     g6°s'     de'sega'ne'      ne" 

there  where         usually        dost  thou  keep         that 


deklio'gen'." 

between  my  thighs." 

deye'ho'gen'. 

her  lap  on. 


Da'      o'ne°' 


Da' 

So 


now 
(then) 


o  ne" 

now, 


again 


it  is  said. 


dost  thou  keep 
looking 

ne'  'ho'       waatgo°'^n' 

there  did  he  his  he-ad 

rest  (lean) 


agam 


waonwai'sa  ge° 

did  she  him  search  for 
him 


verily 


again 


deaga'ne', 

did  he  keep 
looking, 


ne* 

the 


ne 

that 


it  it  makes 
it  it  causes 


deowae'^'gen^nyon. 

she  him  overcame. 

Da'      o'ne"' 

So  now,  it  is  said 


gi^o'^^ 


agam 


wao'da' 

did  he  fall 
asleep, 


ne"klio' 

that-and 


ne" 

the 


ne" 

the 


wa  • 

did 


oi'se"danI"he't. 

his  sleep  become  sound. 

•wa'a'ge"',     ne" 

did  she  it  say,         the 


Dyengwa's'hoii     o'ne"' 

■     Suddenly  just  now 

yeksa'  'gowa ,       "  Hau  " , 

"Come, 


da'a'}-e'.        O'ne"', 

could  he  Now 

awake. 

wa'ondyenno'k'de"' 

did  she  her  task  complete 


she,  maiden, 

?i"o°', 

it  is  said 

o'ne"'    ' 

now 


na  e'     a  e      dayes'nye't 

verily        again  did  she  reply 

i'dje'."     Da'a'o"     na'e' 

Not  can  verily 


do  thou 
awake." 


agam 


again  did  she  him  bind 
up  repeatedly; 


t5^ 

as  soon  as 


wai"     a'e'      sayo'^'deii'di'. 

truly        again         again  she  started. 


wai"    sayont'hena"ge"dad-khoS    o'ne^' 

truly  again  she  her  pack  bore  by       -and  now 

the  forehead  band 

Da'aonis'he"on' 

Not  a  Jong  while 


o  'ne"*     hoiisaye  'yo"' 


now 
(then) 


again  she  returned 
home 


HEWITT  J 


LEGENDS 


lao 


h6°'oii\ve'     tganyo'dae', 

there  where  there  it  Itike  (is), 

"Hau",     o'ne"*     iMjeS" 


gi"o'",     a'o'     iio"ho*    saonwa'yet. 

it  is  said,       n^aiu  there 


ng.iin  slit*  him 
awoko. 


"  Come, 


now 

(then) 


do  t  hoii 
awuke," 


w^a'ge"'. 

did  she  it  say. 


Ne" 

That 


na  c, 

verily, 


gl     O"', 
it  is  sjiid, 


ajiwas 


o'yo'nis'hc't      o'ne"'     waa'yc'. 

it  was  a  long  while  now         did  he  aw:ike 

(then) 

Gilnio"'     waa'ye'     o'ne" 

As  soon  OS      did  he  awake 


now 
(then), 

gg""      ne'kho'?"       Agwas' 

dost  thou    here  (this  place?)"        Very 

wai'f'fi',     "Gyfiide'i  ne''ho'. 

di<i  he  it  say,        "  I  it  know  indeed. 

ne"     hakno"sf°." 

the  my  uncle." 

"Niyo","        wil'a'ge"', 

"So  be  it,"  did  she  it  say, 


gl    o" 

it  is 
said, 


'Gwe',     cyende'i 

"  Say, 


dost  thou  it 
kn»iw 


wa'a'gS"', 

did  she  it 

say, 

o't'hatga"do''     ya'e'       o'ng"'     gi"o-, 

did  he  look  around  first  now  (then)        it  is  s;u»l, 

deyagni'skodanis't'liri' 

he-I-it  to  cure  (meiit)  use 


Ne'kho'  ge°s' 


llexe 


usually 


sgoni'sa'gt^"'. 

aenin  I  t  hoe  search 
for  thee. 


"  O'ne"'      wai" 

"  Now  truly 

'A"so"-kho'     a'e'      nC°cye'ii'       ne"ho'       de"segri'na'k      ne"     dek- 

yet-and  again       so  will  thou  it  do  there         wilt  thou  keep  looking  at    the       between 

ho'gffi.''     Da'      o'nC"',     gi"o'",  a'e'      waonwai'sa'ge"',     ne"     ne'' 

my  thighs."  So         now  (then)      it  is  said,      again,    did  she  him  search,  for  him,      that  the 

hono""$nge'.     Da'djia"s'hon       o'nf'       a'e'     wao'dil',     da'    o'ne"' 

his  head  on.  Soon-just  now  (then)       again    did  he  fall  asleep,    so 

dif}'     sayewa'hil'cyon',       o'n6°'      a'e'      wai' 

again  she  it  wraps  up  now  (then)      again  truly 


now 

savontge'  'dad     ne' ' 


more- 
over 


repeatedly, 

ne"     goyil'gon       ha'non'  (h!i"nont). 

the  her  pouch  in  he  is  contained. 

O'ni?"'     sayo"'den'dI'.     O'ne"'     ne" 

Now  again  she  started.  Now  that 


nc 

the 


again  shf  her  pack  horc    that 
by  the  forehead-band 


o'n^"'     honsaye'3'0"' 

now  (then)        there  again  she 
arrived 


h$°'onwe*     (lweuni''dyo"'     ne"  dowa"iionda"'nonde'      gondino'T'"- 

there  where       there  they  (fern.)  dwell     the  they  are  sisters  one  with  another  their  mother 

kho',     o'wii^nondyeugwii'siion  dondaye'yo"'     sgainodS,'die'. 

-and,  <\\d  they  (fcm.)  become  surprised 


thence  she  entered 
(in  lodge) 


again  sheas  a  pack 
returns. 


ne 

the 

ne 

the 


Da'     ne"      diq'     ne"     ganesda"ge*     wa'ont'he'nondl'     ne"kho' 

So  that        moreover       the  it-floor-on  did  she  her  pack  c;ist  that  and 

\vti'a'ge°',     "  Xe"ho*      na'e'     gaya'gofi      hifnou*    (hii"nont) 

did  she  it  say,        •    "There  verily  it-pouch-inhe       contained  (is) 

Dooa'dane'gg"'.       Hau"       o'ne"'        diq'       seswil'no'"dri''go' 

now  moreover       do  i*ou  him  loos?  from  his 

container 


Come, 


"Two  Feathers." 
*■  Together" 

ogi)nda'die'." 

at  once." 

0'n6"'       diq'       na'e'     ne" 

Now  moreover       verily  t  he 

dayes'nye't,       '*  Niytl'we''' 

she  answered,              ' '  I  am  t  hankf ul 
04615°— 1(J no 


gono"e°       wft'a'g^"' 

ne" 

o'ne"' 

her  mother        did  she  it  say 

ihe 

now 

giy(5"' '.        O'gai'Wilye'i' 

he" 

so"- 

my  child.                It  is  fulfilled 

where 

so  much 

786 


SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 


[ETH.  ANN.  32 


dji'     gonya'daa's."     Da'   o'ng"',    gi"o"',  kho"     yon'do",    "Hau", 

I  thee  depend  on."  So  now         It  is  said,       and       she  kept  saying,       "Come, 

agne'iions,       i'dje'."       Ne"     gwa'      ne"      agwas'      o'yo'nis''he't 

my  son-in-law,      do  thou  awake."     Tliat         just  the  very  did  it  last  long 

o'n6°'      waa'ye'       waat'g6°'-kho',    ho'gwa-kho'    waa'dy?n'.     Waa- 

now  did  he  awake  did  he  arise-and,  aside-and  did  he  himself  seat.       He 

dyengwa'djf's'hon      agwas'      wadiks&'gowa's'hon 

surprised  was-just  very  (much)     they  (/fm.)  are  fine  looking  just 

no"s'gon     wa'^ni'dio'"  (wa°m"djo''')     ne"kho'     ne" 

lodge-in  they  (/fm.)  abide  that-and  the 


ga- 
it- 


Da' 

So 


o  ne" 

now 


o'ne° 

it  evening  became       now, 


gi"o°', 

it  is  said. 


verily 


ne       ne 

that         the 

godino"6°. 

their  mother. 

waayen"t'hon 

did  he  her  lie  with 


ne' 

the 


Dooa'dane'ge"' 


'  Two  Feathers 
Together" 


ne  ' 

that 


^" 


ne ' '     honwS''nonkh6n  'no°' . 

the  she-him  to  fetch  did  go. 


Da' 

So 


ne 

that 


wa'a'gg"'     ne' 


diq' 

moreover 

•     ne" 

the 


ne  yo 

the  wife 


ne 

the 


(/ 


o  ne^ 

now 


this,  is 


did  she  it  say       that 

o'dyonkhiya'da'gwe"'      ne' 

did  she  us  body  take  from  that 

na'e'    ne"    ne"ho'    wil'onwa°di'ye'.     Da' 

vertly       that  there  did  she  them  do  unto.  So 

(thus) 

e"skhe'no°k'ha'.      Is' 

You 


wa'o'hgn't 

did  it  day  become 

ne"      gos't'ho",       "0'ne°' 

the         she  yoimgest  is,  "Now 

na°'ga°     we'6°      dwadina°'ge'. 

far  away        they  (.fern.)  dwell. 


o'ne"' 

now 

wai" 

truly 

Ne" 

That 


o'n6°'     diq'     I"    wai" 


more- 
over 


I 


tliq' 

more- 
over 


will  I-him  fetch. 

ne''     hono"se°.  " 

the  his  uncie.'^ 

O  'ne°^     na  'e*    waasda  'en* 

Now  verily  did  he  weep 

ne"       de'cno^'do"' 

the  not  he  it  knows 


de°djadl'ak 

two  will  you  be 


ne 

the 


hagc°'dji," 

he,  old  man," 


truly 

ne" 

that 


ne" 

that. 


dyawe°"o° 

continually 


ha'do", 

he  it  ke«ps 
saying. 


ne"     hag?°'d)I     ne"    gayon'nY' 

the  he,  old  man        that         it  it  makes, 

gaa°gAva's'hon      nl'e's      ne"      haunwa"'de°', 

where-just  there  he  the  his  nephew, 

goes  to 
and  fro 

"Ha'gIS      ha'gl',       ha'gi', 

"-Uas,  alas, 


alas. 


gi";      was"he° 

of  course,  ten 


niyos''hage'  ■   o'ne°'     6"'gada'dagwa"d6'''.     Ha'gi',       gi"." 

will  I  it  give  up.  Alas,  of  course." 

-"    gos't'ho"    wa'o°'deu'dI'     wa'a'ge"'- 


so  many  it-years 
niimber 


now 
(then) 


Da'    o'ne"'    na'e' 

verilv 


now 
(then) 


ne 

that 


ne" 

the 


kho' 

-and, 


'*fi"3'he'no"kha*      o'ng'^'. 


"Will  I  him  to 
fetch  go 


she  youngest 
one  (is) 

Da' 

So 


did  she  start 


did  she  it-say 


deni"dyo°' 

two  they  abide 


ne  ' 

that 


ne" 

the 


dye'gowane"    ne"kho'    ne' 

she,  eider  one,  (is)        that-and  the 


o'ne°',     gi"o'",     ne"ho' 

now,  it  is  said,  there 

Dooa'dane'ge"' 

"Two  Feathers 
Together" 


h()iio"sc°. 

his  uncle. 

Da'oiiis"he'on' 

Not  long  after 


o'nS"' 

now 


verily 


Wil'e'yo"' 

did  she  arrive 


h6°'onwe' 

there  where 


tga'it 

there  it- 
tree  stands 


hewittJ 


LEGENDS 


787 


ne 

that 


ne 

the 


hadoiis't'hii'      ne"' 

he  it  1u  hunt  uses         the 

tgii"'do°      ne"ho'      w&'e'gi^"' 

around  there 

ne"      heon\va"'a" 

the 


did  she  it  see 


hem'p  she  him 
carried 

o"'d&n'dI'.     O'ng"' 

she  start.  Now 


ne" 

the 


(Ijo'ii'jia'.     O'nt"'""      wai''     o'dynn- 

raccoon.  Now  truly  did  >he  look 

t'higeMjrwe"'      he"      tcagawe'noii 

it  is  very  plain  where  again  she  went 

Dooii'dane'gf"'.      O'ng"'       na'e'      wil'- 

"Two  I'mihers  Now  verily  did 

TogeilKT." 

a'e'    wa'ondr-imo'dC"',    \vil'a'g6°',    gafiiina'gon, 

again  did  she  siiiK  (exert  did  she  it  say  it  song-in, 

her  orenda), 

"na"-ho-wi,    ha"-ho-\vi,   ha"-h()-wi,     o'n6"'     wa'heyfi'di"silkhe', 

"Ha"-ho-wi,  h4"-ho-wi,  hiT'-ho-wi,  now  thither  I  him  to  seek  go, 

ha"-ho-wi,     hri"-lio-wi,     ne"       Dooa"dane'ge"'-ge',     hri"-ho-wi, 

ha"-ho-wi,  hfl"-ho-wi,  the  "Two  Feathers"-at,  hil"-ho-wl, 

ha"-ho-wi,  ha"-ho-wi,  Wilheya'di'sukho',  ne"    ne"    Hafhon'das, 

hiV'-ho-wi,  hil"-ho-wi 

e'-g"-h(5"."     Ne"ho' 

verily,         it  is  so  it  continued  on  llie 

said,  way. 

o'n6"'      wil'e'yo"'      hf°'oflwe'     niwadi- 

lliere  whore  there  I  hoy 

(Am.) 


na'e', 


thither  I  him  to  seek  go,        that       the  He,  the  Listener, 

gi"o"',     niyo'da"'a"die'. 


{•-{o-hi''.' 

Da' 

So 


ne 

that 


Thus 
(There) 

diq' 

more- 
over 


ne 

the 


now 
(then) 


did  she  iirri\e 
there 


na"'ge 


abide 


ne 

that 


ne" 

the 


ge'i' 

lour 


ne 

the 


nigon  (li 

so  mauy  I  hey 
are 

"      dewa"'nonda"'non(le'       kho" 

they  sisters,  one  to  another,  are,  and 


ne       ne"     wanon  gwe 

that        the  they  women 

(are) 

ne'       gO(lino"a°,      ne" 

the  their  (/fm.)  the 

mot  her, 


ne  ' 

that 


ne 

that 


yon- 
der 


tlipre  it  lodge 
stands. 


Dj-efigwa'- 

Suddenly 


wa''iK)ndya'(lat'go'''s,     wa'oudygii'gwa    si'    tgano^'sot. 

they  (/cm.)  are  sorcerers,  did  she  become 

surprised 

ne"ho'       o'dj-e'da't.     Da'     o'nf"      diq'     wri'ondau"'dryos 

there  did  she  stand.  So  now 


s'hou 

just 

kho" 

and 

o'nP"' 

now 


diq' 

more- 
over 


<lid  she  listen  intently 

tgano"'sot.       Dyfiiigwa's'hon 


no"      o'dyontga"do°      he" 

the  did  she  look  around  where       there  it  lodge  stands  Suddenly-just 

got'hon'de'     ne"ho'     t'hase"'twas    o'wonwa"nay{'n'de'    ne" 

she  it  heard  there         there  he  weeping  wa.s     did  she  his  voice  recognize  the 

Ogonda'die'      o'ne"'      ne"ho'       waodfik'hc'.      WS'e'yo"' 

her  Spouse.         Immediately  now  there  did  she  running  go.     There  she  arrived 

gano"suk'ihl'       o'nC"',      gi  "o"',     hC'ofiwc',       deyo'hagwi'udo'nio", 

it-lodge-beside  now,  it  is  .said,  there  where  it  crevice  opens  many 

ne"ho',  gi"o'",      wa'ontga"t'ho'.     Dy(^ng\va"-se     ne"ho'      on'gyc' 


ne'yo 


there,         it  is  said,  did  she  look. 

If'hat    ne"     Dooa'dane'go"'     no''ho' 

the  "Two  Feathers  there 


there  he 
stood 

kho'     ne" 

and  the 

Ne"ho' 

There 


Together  " 

deo'sc"'twf". 

he  weeping  was. 

wa'oatg^*'t"ho' 

did  she  see 


Suddenly  there  indoors 

na'e"     gomvayri'Mot     ne"- 

verily  they  ifem.)  him  that- 

stood 


h6"'ou\ve' 

Iliere  where 


wai"     wa*e'g6°'     he*'     nryot.      Xe"      ne' 

truly  didsheitseo       whore       so  it  wiis.        That        the 


doyo'hagw^fi'de' 

it-crevice  opens 

gO(lino"6"     ne 


their  muihor 


o  ne"' 

now 

■     S6-" 

the    .       three 


788  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS  [eth.  anx.  32 

na'dewa°noiida°'nonde'      lie' 'ho'      i'yet      ga'as'ha'      na'e'       ye'a'. 

so  many  they  are  sisters  there  she  stood        it-basket  verily       she  it  held. 

Da'    ne"    g5°s'     dondayago'gon'dSgo'    ne"   gahfis"ha'    ne"    gg^s'. 

So         that       usually       thence  she  brand  tooli  out  of  the  it-brand  tliat       usually, 

the  fire 

gi"o'",    w&'on'ga't    ne"    ha'no°"dak'a'    ne"    ge"s'    wai"    gaion'ni' 

it  is  said     did  she  it  touch      the  his  arm-pit  that       usually       truly  it  it  makes 

o't'hase'"t'ho'      ne"      ne"      ge"^'      otko"a'      daaga'sait.      Ne"ho', 

did  he  weep  that  the         usually       it  wampum        thence  he  tears  There, 

sheJ. 

gi"o°',      gatgofiwa'dade°"da'     ne"ho'     gg"^'      na'e'     o'gageon'dfl't 

it  is  said,        one  buckskin  spread  (has)  there  usually         verily  did  it  in  heap  fall 

ne"     otgoiiwa'da"ge'.      Da'      o'ne"'     wai"     ne"      yeg^'dji     go'- 

the  it  buckskin  on.  So  now  truly  the  she,  old  woman     her 

as"hagou     wa'agon'da'     ne"     otko"a'. 

basket-in  did  she  it  place  the        it- wampum. 

Deyega'ne'      ne'yo'       ne'ho"s'hofl       heyo"d5n      awemloii'iiyS't 

She  it  looked  at       her  spouse  there-just  so  it  was  it  discouraging 

en";       ne"     o'ne°'     hwa'e'yo"'      ne"      gano°'sakon      tcki-vedak'- 

I  tliink;        the  now         thither  she  entered     the  it  lodge-in  while  she  running 

he's'hon      wa'onwaye'nan'      djok'      o'n6°'      dondaoilwaya'dit.'gg'" 

went  just  did  she  him  seize  at  once  now  thence  she  him  brought 

ne"       ne"       gano°'sakon.       Da'        gamo"s'hon       dondaIya'g6'''t 

that  the  it  lodge-in.  So  as  soon  as-just  thence  they  two  came 

out 

o'dyago'et,      wa'a'g6°',      "Hau",     ga'o'      donda'swet      swadjl'na" 

did  she  shout,  did  she  it  say,  "Come,  hither       thence  do  you  come      you,  brave  ones 

ne"  ne"  agada'swa,"do°,  Is'  ne"  djot'honwando","  ganio"  w&'ond- 

that         my  guardian  spirits,        You      the  humming-birds,"  as  soon  as  did  her 

wgnno'k'de-"      da'     o'ng"'      o't'hi6°"dad     o'dyont'hwada'se'     he" 

voice  die  out  so  now  did  they  two  run  did  they  it  circled  where 

gano°'sot        ne"-kho'        ne"        o'n6°'        wa'a'ge"',       "De'son'ga" 

it  lodge  stands  that   -and  the  now  did  she  it  say,  "Not  any  one 

t'hayeya'g6°'t     si'gwa     he"     niyagot'go"',     ne"kho'     ne'     dCgan- 

shall  one  escape  more  where      so  one  is  a  sorcerer,         that  and  the  will  it 

gnyon'dS"'     ne"     na°'gon'gwa     he'tgeii'gwa-kho'.      Da'      djii'go" 

red-hot  the  imder-side  upper-side-and.  So        take  conrage 

diq'     agada'swa"do".     Hau",     dja'go"     diq." 

too  my  guardian  spirits.  Come,       take  courage       too." 

Djok'        o'n6°'     o'wadi'yo"'      ne"      goda'swa"do°,       "  daun'," 

At  once,  now  did  they  arrive  the  her  guardian  spirits,  "daun," 

o'do°      he"     odiyo"de'.     Dyeiigwa's'hon     o'n6"'     o'dyo'do°"gwak 

It  sounds     where     they  are  at  work.  Suddenly-just  now  did  it  bluest  into  flames 

he"       gano°'sot.     O'lie"'    ne"   ne"   on'gye'     deweuno^'scn'twa'so" 

where        it  lodge  stands.  Now         that       the  indoors       they  (/fTn.)  were  weeping  severally 

wa"nondat'hri\vtik's'ho°'o'',    ne"ho'    na'e'    sk6nno"'on's'hon     o'gai'- 

they,  mothers-daughters,  there  verily  slowly-just  did  it  sound 

sda'gee',     ne"ho'     o'gai'wa"do'''. 

die  out,  ■     there  did  it  become  destroyed. 


--S]  LKGENDS  789 

Da'     o'ng"'     wa'a'gf"',     "  O'ui^"-    wai''    {-"(Ijidyiidr-nMr    nc'ho' 

So  now  did  she  it  say,  "Now  truly  will  thmi  I  dfp:irt  Ihon- 

homowurd  loo 

he"(ljid'ne'     hi?"'oii\vc'     <lyoilg\vaiio"'sot."      O'liC"',  gi"o"',    wayil'- 

thltbcr  will  thou         there  where  our  lodge  stands."  Now,        it  is  said,        did  they 

Igo. 

clc^fi'dl'.      S6""gc'      i'e'       so"djI'      o'gonwa6"3^a'g6"'t     tchi-ha^nC"- 

two  start.  With  dim-  he  too  much  did  thoy  him  torment  while  he  abode  in 

cuHy  walked 

'was'-hC'     nc'ho'. 

his  wife's  lodge         there. 

Da'     ne"ho'      hoflsil'hnl'yo"'      h5"'omve'      ganyoda'e'.       O'nC"' 

So  there  thither  they  two  arrived       there  where  it  lake  is.  Now 

w&'a'gB"'     ne"     yeksa'gowa,      "  Hau",     ga'o'       da'sct       dagiyil'- 

didsheitsay       the  she  maiden,  "Come,  thither  hither  do         do  thou  us 

thou  come 

dago''ha,     Is'     na^'gii"     sogwX'dis'gowa     sya'so"." 

two  aid,  thou         this,  is  blooil  sucker  grt'at         thou  art  called." 

Ne"gwa     ne"     ne"ho'     d3-(5ng\vri"-se      gaiwoda"hS°      dawado'- 

That  just         the  there  suddenly  il  lake-middle        thence  (it)  waves 

'da«5n'.     DS-'djia's'lion      n(5''lu)'       o'gii'yo"'      li(^"'on\ve'  de"nit. 

arose.  Soon  just  there  did  it  arrive  there  where         Ihey  twostood. 

Da'      o'ne"'      wa'a'gg"',       "Hau",      dagiya"dage'ha     nc"       ne'' 

So  now  did  she  it  say,  "Come,  do  thou  us  two  aid  that  the 

ougi'd^nst'he't      ne"     na"'ga"     deya<^ya'dl-     no"       Dooii'dane'g^"' 

I  poor  am  made  that  this,  is  «iie-l  are  one  the  "  Two  I-Vathers 

Together" 

haya'so°,    ho'sennsion'ga't     no*'h()*.     Da'  o'ne"*    diq'     S^yagyadii'- 

he  is  called,  his  name  famous  (is)  indeed.  So  now  two  will  we  two 

dg°'.        Da'      o'ne"',      o'n6"'       ne"ho*       ho'sado'ge%       he"'onwe* 

mount.  So  now,  now  there  hither  do  tbou  steer  for        there  where 

nidyougya'den'dyon/' 

there  we  two  started  from." 

Da'    o'n«5°',    gi"o"',    de'aonis''he'o"  o'nC"'    o'tgaya"ya'k.      O'no"' 

So  now,         it  is  said,  not  long  after  now  did  it  cross  over,  Xow 

naV     o'dyonde"non'ny()fi',     "  Niya/wfi*^/'    wa'a'ge"',     '^O'tgonon'- 

verily  did  she  thanks  give,  "  I  am  thankful,"       did  she  it  say,  "  Thee-I  thank 

nyoii'     o'sgiy!l'dage"ha'.     Da'     o'nf"'     tchftdridwffini'yo'." 

didst  thou  us  two  aid.  So  now  again  Ihou  art  tree." 

Da'     o'ne"'     na'e'     ne"       deyii'dl'      o'nS"'     ne"ho'         oilsa'ne' 

So  now  verily         the      they  two  one  (are)        now  there  apiin  they 

two  went 

h§°'onwe'       t'liofiua'defi'dyou.         D()skeno'''s'hon       ofisa'nc'       ho' 

there  where  there  they  started.  Nearby-just  again  they  two       where 

were  going 

tgano"'sot     o'ne'"     na'e'     hofmat'hou'de'     tiias(la''ha'     ne"      ho- 

there  it  lodge  now  verily  they  it  hear<l  there  he  weeps  the  bis 

stands 

no"s6"      hoden'not-kho',       lia'do",       "  Hiwa"'de"'.     hiwii"'de"'     lii- 

uncle  he  sings-and  he  keeps  saying,        "  Oh,  nephew,  oh,  nephew,  uh, 

\va°'de°',    was"he"    ne"yog(^nha"'gek     o'ng°'     e°wagad!'i'dfigwa''do''', 

nephew,  ten  will  it  seasoiLs  number  now  will  I  it  cease. 


790 


SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS 


fETH.  ANX.  32 


■was"he°      iie"yogenha'''gek     o'lig"'      e°wagad;1,'dagwa"de"',    lia'gi', 

ten  will  it  seasons  number  now  will  I  it  cease,  alas, 

gi"."       Da'     ne"ho'       wanl'yo"'       ne"    ne"   hadadedjisdaoii'twas 


±yu        lie    iiw 

indeed."         So  there  they  two  entered       that 

honoeu'gen'yat.       Daagawlso'djen 


the 

ge°s' 


his  head  top  of. 

hono'engSn'yat. 

his  head  top  of. 

ne"     houo"s6''. 

the  his  uncle. 


He  would  dip  a  paddle-ful       usually 


he  himself  coals  oast  on 

ne"ho'       \vaont"ho' 

there  did  he  it  pour 


O'ne"' 

Now 

Agwas' 

Very 


b  ' 
That  just 


na'e'      hohe'"dji'ade'ge"     na'e'     de"djo' 

verily  he  it  scorched  has  verily       not  it  is  left 

ha'nigo°gw§"'da'. 

his  mind  was  downcast. 

saa'yo"'       ne"    he"wa"de""s'hii'    o'ne"' 


the  now 

waa'ge"'     heniyo"da°. 

did  she  it  say  so  it  is.  "  Now 

ne"      Dooa'dane'ge°'.       Da' 

the  "  Two  Fe-ithers  So 

Together." 

hage"'djl.     Agwas'     gwa' 

he  old  man.  Very  just 

sa'gyo"'     hagno"se°.     I" 

again  I  have       oh,  my  uncle.  I 

returned 

ge"'     gya'so"." 

I  am  called." 

Da'     o'ne"', 

So  now 

diq'      wai'efi', 

too  did  he  it  say, 

o'ne"'  sa'cyo°\ 

now         again  thou 
hast  returned. 


again  he  returned     the 


sa  gyo° 

again  I  have 
returned 


his  nephewshlp  now 

hagno"se°,"     wai'en.^ 

oh,  my  uncle,"     did  she  it  say 


o'n6°' 


verily 


da'ai°ni''hen' 

not  he  it  ceased 


lie' 

the 


wooye'na"',      wai'eii' 


"O'ttg"'    wai" 

did  he  him  seized,      did  he  it  say,  *'  Now  truly 

iii'ge°'     sa'gyo"'    ne"   ne"    Dooa'dane'- 


SO  It  IS, 


again  I  have     that 
returned 


the 


"Two  Feathers 
Together." 


saoycn'de'       ne' 

again  he  him  knew         the 

Is'     ne"       gi". 

Thou       that         indeed. 

Da'  o'ne°'  diq'  senno°'-s'hon     oya"djI     ha°tc'he 

So         now         too         thou  do  not-just  other  place         hence  wilt 


gi"o°', 

it  is  said, 

"Wu", 

"  Wu", 


haunwii^'de"'      o'ne", 

his  nephew  now 

Da'      niva'we"       diq' 


So 


I  am  thanklul 


thou  go. 

E^dweii'dyon'da'k-s'hon.         Ne"s'hoii       doskeno°"s'liou       fsado- 

Will  we  remain-just.  That-only  nearby-only  wilt  thou 

was''hek.      Ne"      wai"     gaion'ni'     o'lie"'     t'lio'ha      e"yonde"doii' 

to  hunt  use.  That  truly  it  it  makes  now  almost  will  she  give  birth 

ne"ho',     hui'geii     do'ge°s       yene'o" 

in  fact,  that  is  certain  she  is  enciente 

Da'       ne"ho'       niyawe°"o°      ne" 

So  thus  (there)       so  it  came  to  pass        the  "  Two  Feathers "  his  story. 

Da'       ne"ho' 

So 


nigaga'is. 


ne"     yegowa'nen." 

that  she,  elder  one." 

Dooa'dane'ge"'     lioi'wa"ge'. 


(thus)  there       so  it  story  long  (is). 


NOTES 

1.  Son  of  the  Whirlwind.  Tliis  "Son"  nmrried  a  dauglitor  of  ninn,  show- 
int;  llio  lii'licf  tliat  tli<>  sons  of  tlie  fjods  murry  tlie  ilau^lifers  of  nion.  The 
I'.t'in>;  ri'iii'oscnts  tlio  evil  si(li>  of  tlie  Whiiiwiml,  wliile  S'Iuit;oili.vo\vi'  rcprcscnis 
Ihe  lieneticeiu    side. 

2.  An  exclamation  of  contenipt. 

'.\.  \  device  of  OMiiinhalislic  )>('i-sona;;es  in  niytli  tales,  romjiare  story  of 
S'h:i^'o\veiiofha,  p.  Td"). 

4.  It  is  plain  that  this  story  is  made  up  of  imidents  common  to  several  other 
Stories;  for  example,  the  reference  to  the  robe  of  eyes,  and  this  metamorphosis 
into  animals. 

.").  These  ^rnardians  of  the  pathway  tn  the  I.odfie  of  the  Seven  Sisters  also 
appear  in  other  recitals;  for  example,  in  those  describin;;  the  allewd  journey 
of  the  human  soul  to  the  Land  of  Souls.  These  obstacles  are,  first,  the  I'ine 
or  other  variety  of  tree  liavinj;  leaves  or  thorn-like  points  chariieil  with  deadly 
venom;  .second,  the  two  Uattlesnidies  or  other  monsters:  third,  the  two 
S'hafrodiyowiKifrowa  or  Ueidfrn  Wind  (!ods  (erroneously  introduced  in  this 
category  of  malifin  creatures);  fourth,  the  two  I'.lue  Herons;  and  fifth,  the 
inflated  entire  skin  of  a  human  hciuLr,  usu.-dly  |ilaced  on  a  platform,  to  watch 
for  stranfiers.  Tlie.se  wonder  animals,  creatures  of  fear  and  iirnorance,  bar  the 
way  to  some  poal^to  success — ami  test  th(>  spirit  of  Idin  who  seeks  to  attain 
some  desired  end. 

<).  The  reference  to  the  wampum  belt  is  in  all  ]irohability  a  mndcrn  touch, 
since  there  is  ini  .■ivailablc  evidence  that  wain]iuui  belts  are  prehistoric. 

7.  The  race  of  Whirlwiuil  .Man-HeiiiK's. 

8.  In  the  older  time  it  was  a  conunon  belief  tlr.it  these  vernnn  were  iilways 
found  in  the  medicine  pouch  or  chest  of  a  sorcerer. 

i).  It  is  alleged  tliiit  this  was  a  characteristio  device  of  witches  anil  wiz.irds 
for  the  purpose  of  rendering  themselves  iimmiiie  from  death:  snnu  limes  the.v 
were  <'oncealed  under  a  pet  duck's  win;:. 

10.  It  was  a  conuTion  Seneca  and  Iroipioi.'iii  belief  Hint  the  Thunder  Alan  and 
his  sons  fed  on  the  flesh  of  serpents. 

11.  The  Skunk. 
TJ.  The  Porcupine. 

13.  The  Buffalo. 

14.  The   Rattlesnake. 

l.^.  Black  Face,  a  <Iescriptive  epithet  in  mythic  lore  applieil  to  the  rattle- 
snake. 

1().  The  public  assembly  lodixe,  or  loilu'e  of  jiublic  mcetiuLTS  or  coinicils.  In 
the  literature  relating'  to  Ihe  Iroipiois,  the  wcu'd  "  lon^r-house  "  ^renerally  desl;;- 
nates  this  lod«e.     It  never  denoted  the  l/eague  or  Federation. 

17.  .\  dwarf  man  or  pi;:my. 

15.  The  <;reat  Mythic  Bear  Monster. 
10.  The  Wind  Man-Beim:. 

10a.  The  expn'ssion.  "one  rib."  is  intended  to  slprnlfy  that  there  was  onl.v  a 
sinple  rib  on  each  side,  broad  enough  to  occuji.v  the  space  usuall.v  filled  by  the 
ordinar.v  number  of  ribs  In  an  atdmal  body,  in  the  carcass  of  this  m.vsterions 
beitiK.  The  same  statement  is  idso  made  of  the  (JaiuaKwai'hegowa,  the  Monster 
Bear. 

I!lb.  This  sentence  is  a  very  cle.ir  statement  of  the  native  Seneca  belief  that 
the  life  of  the  animal  world  is  somelhin;;  <lifrerent  from  the  body  of  the  fiesh 

791 


792  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 

aiul  blood  and  boues.    The  same  belief  is  expressefl  in  otlier  stories,  especially 
in  that  of  the  child  adopted  by  the  Bear  Mother. 

20.  Tlie  Great  Crow,  or  the  Mau-Being  Crow. 

21.  The   Follower(?). 

22.  "  Stone  Skin,"  commonly  called  Stone  Coat.  Cf.  characterization  of  the 
stories  in  the  Introduction. 

23.  Her  magic  power  or  potency. 

24.  This  peculiar  tiuger  appears  in  most  stories  concerning  the  so-called  Stone 
Coats,  Stone  Giants,  or  Stone  Skinned  Beings. 

24m.  This  is  paralleled  by  the  story  in  the  Odyssey  about  t-lie  skins  of  the 
cows  of  the  Sun-god  becoming  alive.  These  had  been  killed  by  the  sailors  of 
Odysseus,  although  he  had  forbade  such  an  act. 

25.  This  is  also  a  Tustarora  story. 

26.  Blackbird,  or  the  Man-Being  Blackbird. 

27.  Tlie  Uobin,  or  tlie  Mau-Being  of  that  name. 

28.  Tlie  Sparrow. 

29.  This  is  In  modern  usage  the  Iroq\ioian  name  of  the  Christian  devil ;  it 
means  "  dweller  in  the  .soil,"  i.  e.,  muler  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

30.  Grasshopper. 

31.  A  similar  stratagem  is  employed  in  No.  10.     Others  appear  in  this  story. 

32.  This  is  the  native  Iroquoian  name  of  the  Jleteor  or  Firedragon  and  the 
Man-Being  of  this  name ;  it  signifies  the  traveling  torch  or  light. 

33.  She  who  deceives  as  a  habit. 

34.  She  who  thrusts  into  ai)ertures. 

3.5.  Literally,  The  Shingled-llaired  Female. 

3G.  This  alleged  feat  nf  disgorging  quantities  of  wampum  was  one  essayed 
by  all  budding  sorcerers  while  spending  their  honeymoons  in  the  lodges  of 
their  parents-in-law.  Failure  to  do  this  task  inevitably  stamped  the  luckless 
pretender  as  a  fraud  and  weakling,  in  so  far  as  the  arts  of  the  wizard  are 
corcerned. 

37.  The  living  and  inflated  human  skin,  flayed  entire,  serving  as  a  guardian 
or  watchman  for  its  owners  and  the  strawberry  patch,  appears  in  a  number  of 
other  recitals.     In  this  story  such  a  skin  of  a  man  bears  the  name  Hadjoqda. 

38.  The  circumstances  mentioned  in  this  statement  are  not  peculiar  to  this 
story  ;  with  a  change  of  names  they  appear  In  other  stories.  In  this  paragraph, 
cannibalism  is  described  as  a  habit  of  certain  wizards.  Human  flesh  is  pre- 
ferred to  that  of  elk,  which  are  here  a  pest. 

39.  This  is  the  literal  meaning  of  the  Seneca  term.  The  original  personage 
was  probably  the  Wolf  Man-Being.  But  the  hero  and  Hadjoqda  and  the 
grandmother  were  Turkey  people,  while  the  others  were  Quail  and  Partritlge 
Iieople. 

40.  Tradition  relates  that  Ilafhondas  remained  at  the  home  of  his  sister 
during  the  following  winter  and  that  during  this  time  he  was  vislte<l  by  a 
stranger,  who  advi.sed  him  to  attend  the  great  New  Year  festival,  at  whicli 
one  or  more  white  dogs  are  immolated,  not  as  a  sacrifice,  as  some  report,  but 
only  as  messengers  to  bear  the  thanksgivings  of  the  entire  people  to  the  Master 
of  Life  for  the  rich  gifts  of  life  and  welfare;  he  was  further  advi.sed  to  walk 
around  the  "  new  fires,"  as  ritually  prescribed  for  persons  suffering  from  the 
evil  effects  of  enchantment.  This  advice  be  followed,  but  he  received  no  im- 
mediate relief.  As  spring  came,  however,  his  sister  was  able  to  draw  out  the 
bark  dart  from  his  spine,  and  IIafhon<las  at  once  recovered  from  the  malign 
influence  of  the  evil  spell  cast  upon  liim  by  Tehdoonb  Ols'ha  (i.  e.,  Woodchuck 
Its-Leggings),  or,  in  the  meaning  of  the  tale.  The-Llttle-Old-Man-Wlth-The- 
Woodchuck-Leggings,  who  was  in  collusion  with  the  notorious  Great  Witch 
to  destroy  this  young  man. 


NOTES  793 

Triiilitioii  furllior  snys  tli:it  ou  tlu>  first  iImv  Hat'lidniliis  hounl  llie  claridn 
iKitt's  of  the  tihio  juy.  Viinnniiltii  crixldtn  (Diliilihl;  on  the  si'cond  iliiy  llie 
gleeful  notes  of  si)riiii;  made  Ity  tlie  roliiii.  Miiiiln  inignttorin  (Djoiliuik)  :  on 
tlie  third  day  the  notes  of  the  cliickadee,  I'nnt.t  iitrii-ajiilhis  (  VDjidjonk'- 
'li\ve°');  and.  on  Itie  fourth  day,  the  drumming;  of  the  [lartrultre,  llotidvi  urn- 
Itclliix  ( I).jo(ik\ve''iani' I.  These  facts  are  iiiterestiiij;  bet'ause  it  is  said  that 
tile  women  came  seeking  llufhoudas  in  tlie  sjjrinj;  of  tlie  year;  witli  his  friends 
lie  followed  the  women  two  days  after  their  departure. 

The  i)eoi>le  who  shot  at  the  eagle  iH-rclied  on  the  top  of  the  tall  hickory  free 
went  home  before  the  hefjinnins  "f  the  following  winter.  Such  tests  of  orenda 
or  ma).'ic  power  following  the  acceptance  of  the  challenjre  of  some  great  sorcerer 
or  witch  often  lastetl  several  months,  and  sometimes  were  renewed  in  later 
years.  The  narrative  relates  that  llat'hondas  shot  the  eagle  liy  shooting 
through  the  lodge's  smoke  hole.  The  old  wouian  in  the  lodge  asked  him  to 
desist  after  he  had  made  two  attemi)ts,  saying,  "That  will  do  for  a  while" 
It  is  also  said  that  when  Hat'hoiidas  imrted  from  his  vincle,  1  )ooe'daneg('"'.  the 
uncle  told  hiiu  that  in  the  event  anything  evil  befell  him  the  uncle  would  know 
it  by  the  sky  in  tlie  west  hecotning  red.     See  also  Note  11. 

41.  This  precaution  was  regarded  as  nece.s.sary  in  order  lo  avoid  bi'liig  made 
the  victim  of  a  spell,  the  "tobacco"  used  being  medicated. 

42.  IIt>-who-has-two-feathers-set-side-by-side.     This  is  a    man's  n.ime. 

43.  It  was  custonuiry  for  women  who  went  to  make  projiosals  of  marriage 
to  take  with  them  loaves  of  corn  bread  of  a  specilied  form,  iire|)ared  from 
pounded  corn  meal  and  lioile(l,  wrapped  in  corn  husks;  the  form  ni'  iln'  loaves 
resembled  modern  dumb-bells. 

The  name  Hafljondas,  in  which  lli  do  not  form  a  diL-rapb,  iii;iy  be  more 
correctly  written  IIal'hond,"is ;  it  is  a  moditied  form  of  the  conil)inatiou 
llafhon'dats.  "lie  holds  out  his  ear  customarily."  As  a  name  it  signities,  "  The 
l.isteiu'r,"  and  "The  Obedient  One." 

The  name  iJooehdanegen  ina.v  be  more  correctly  written  I)ooe'danc'ge°' ; 
as  an  api)ellative  it  .signifies,  "  He  who  has  two  feathers  placed  sidt-  by  side," 
or  as  a  statement,  "  He  has  placed  two  feathers  side  b.v  side." 

Dooehdanegen  having  a  |)resentiment  thai  a  well-known  wllch,  for  llic  pur- 
pose of  attempting  the  destruction  of  his  nephew,  was  about  to  make  a  pro|iosal 
of  marriage  between  her  youngest  daughter  and  his  nephew  who  had  been 
imder  his  tutelage  and  ]>rotection  since  his  nephew's  birth  for  the  purpo.se  of 
teaching  him  the  family  medicines  and  orenda  or  magic  jiower  of  their  fetishes, 
sent  his  nephew  to  the  ravine  to  listen  for  any  premonitory  sounds  of  the 
approaching  messengers  from  the  great  witch,  .since  it  was  a  custom  to  chant 
on  the  way  words  doclanitive  of  their  mission. 

Dooehdanegen  smoked  not  only  tobacco  but  also  potent  medicines  mi.xeil 
therewith,  whose  orenda  or  magic -power  was  designed  to  Ihwarl  the  malign 
inlluences  emanating  from  the  great  witch  which  had  for  their  object  the 
destniction  of  Dooehdanegen  and  Hat'hoiidas,  for  the  old  uncle  was  the  sole 
surviving  custodian  of  the  medicines  and  fetishes  of  his  ohwachira  or  blood 
kin,  and  was  therefore  solicitous  of  the  .safety  of  his  lu'pliew  iiiilil  after  reach- 
ing the  age  of  puberty,  when  he  could  demonstrate  bis  ability  to  employ  them 
fortified  by  his  own  inherent  orenda. 

44.  De  LaMothe  Cadillac  (en.  ITO.'D.  in  speaking  of  the  Iribes  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  "  Missilimaklnak  et  Pays  Situes  an  dela,"  writes  that  at  the  feasts 
held  [leriodically  for  the  proi)itiation  of  the  names  of  the  dead  of  the  entire 
community  they  erect  a  <'abin  about  lliO  feet  In  length  of  pii'ces  of  bark  which 
are  new  and  which  have  not  been  u.sed  before  for  any  other  purpose;  at  either 
end  of  the  structure  they  set  a  pole,  and  another,  exeeedlQg  these  iu  height,  in 


794  SENECA   FICTTON,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

the  middle ;  these  poles  are  greased,  oiled,  and  puinted ;  and  at  the  top  end  of 
each  is  fixed  a  prize,  which  belongs  to  the  first  who  can  reach  and  seize 
it  with  the  hand.  (Margry,  D§couv..  V,  104,  1883.)  A  similar  erection  of  a 
pole,  which  was  grea.sed  and  which  held  a  prize  at  its  top,  is  mentioned  in  an 
account  of  a  feast  for  the  dead  held  by  the  Nipissings,  Hurons,  and  the  Chip- 
pewa in  1642.  [Jesuit  Rclatinnn  for  1642,  9.5,  ed.  1858.)  It  was  on  the  top  of  a 
similar  pole  that  the  eagle  Wiis  perched  at  which  Hat'liondas  was  required  to 
shoot  to  test  his  orenda  or  magic  power. 
4.5.  Partridge. 

46.  This  is  a  statement  of  the  Iruquoian  common  law  which  placed  the  value 
of  a  woman's  life,  in  case  of  murder,  at  twice  that  of  a  man. 

47.  This  is  a  ritualistic  phrase  which  is  a  summary  of  the  statement  that 
there  are  grades  of  beings  cla.ssifled  spatially;  i.  e.,  some  live  and  work  below 
tlie  surface  of  the  earth,  others  on  its  surface,  others  in  the  waters,  others 
among  the  grasses  and  weeds  and  low  shrubs,  others  among  the  bushes  and 
taller  shrubs,  others  among  the  trees,  others  in  the  air  and  winds,  others  in 
the  clouds,  and  still  others  in  the  sky  where  stands  the  lodge  of  the  Master 
of  Life. 

48.  In  this  story  the  following  native  wortis  occur :  Tegond.ii,  meaning  the 
eldest  woman,  or  the  mother ;  Awaeh,  the  Swan :  Donyonda,  the  Eagle ; 
Doendjowens,  the  Earth  Cleaver :  Tagonsowes,  He,  the  Long-faced ;  and 
Ohohwa,  the  Owl. 

49.  The  r>warf  Human  Being. 

50.  This  story  is  an  extravaganza.  . 

51.  Oo°'dawiyo  is  the  Seneca  word. 

.52.  This  taboo  of  certain  regions,  places,  directions,  and  times,  is  clearly 
based  on  the  well-known  doctrine  of  tribal  men  that  the  jurisdiction  or  sphere 
of  action  of  the  .spirits  or  the  nonhuman  beings — daimons,  divine  messengers, 
and  gods — was  limited  to  specific  places,  regions,  and  times ;  tribal  men  habitu- 
ally do  not  think  in  the  universal  terms  of  modern  thinking  in  tlie  more  in- 
tensively cultured  circles. 

53.  The  words  "nephew"  and  "uncle"  in  story-telling  do  not  always  de- 
note real  kin.ship  or  relationship  by  affinity  or  consanguinity,  but  rather  a 
male  person  living  in  the  same  neighborhood  with  another  who  is  "uncle"  or 
"  nephew  "  according  to  relative  age.  The  neighborhood  usually  includes  all 
accessible  territory.  This  statement  is  true  of  Iroquoian  reciters  and,  perhaps, 
others. 

.54.  The  dice  man.  the  ball  man,  and  the  ice  pond  man  occur  in  other  stories, 
just  as  the  use  of  the  honi  in  the  second  preceding  paragraph  is  not  unusual. 

.55.  This  is  not  an  uncommon  incident  which  is  taken  from  the  myth  of  the 
beginnings  and  is  there  represented  as  the  work  of  a  personification  of  one  of 
the  months,  which  are  presented  as  13  man-beings. 

50.  The  signification  of  the  two  names  in  the  title  is  respectively,  "  He,  the 
last  or  the  remaining  one,"  and  "  She,  the  planter." 

57.  Mush-eater. 

58.  Spotted. 

59.  A  young  hunter  nnist  not  eat  the  first  bird  or  animal  he  killed  ;  this  was 
one  of  the  first  taboos  learned  by  the  youth. 

60.  Redbreast. 

61.  The  Wild  Pigeon. 

62.  Striped  Rump. 

63.  Skin-headed   (?). 

64.  Pendent  Snout. 

65.  Having  a  tassel  of  pine  leaves. 


NOTES  795 

66.  Tho  Uacooon. 

67.  He  wlio  liiis  a  grent  heiuMross;  i.  c.  uiitler.s. 

68.  The  Cliiv.'U-IiDdfed   Ones. 

69.  The   Buck  =  tli<"    CreMl-Honu'il-Oiie. 
TO.  Tlie  l-iii-fre-footeil  Man.  the  Hear. 

71.  The  Hear, 

72.  Tlie   AiiKlewdi-nK?). 

73.  The  Snipe. 

74.  Th«>  Chipimink. 
7.^.  Tlic  Heron. 

70.  LoMji-siKuiteil  One. 

77.  I-niifi-I'iiper-Kyelids. 

78.  The  Xetinaker=the  Spider. 

79.  Tliis  is  a  i)r<iper  name. 

80.  The  nepliew  of  Spider. 

81.  In  the  details  of  cannihalisin  in  this  and  the  otlier  paragraphs  of  tins 
story  theiv  is  no  protest  against  the  eatinj;  nf  hniiian  lU'sli  ;  this  is  prolialily 
a  reflex  of  the  attitude  toward  this  alxaninahle  practice. 

82.  Tlie  three  native  terms  are  tlie  descriptive  epithet  wliicli  was  ap|ilied  to 
a  cruel  old  wizard  wlio  was  a  cannibal;  tliey  signify,  "  He-puls-theni-nn-an- 
island-haliilnally  I'otato -Duck  or  Tnher-Duck."  This  species  of  duck  was  en- 
slaved by  him. 

83.  The  two  native  words  together  signify.  "He  is  a  niaii-ealer,"  hence,  a 
cannibal. 

84.  This  deliberation  in  torturing  a  victim  was  characteristic  al.so  of  the 
burning  of  war  prisoners;  the  latter  being  fed  and  cared  for  and  rested  lest 
they  should  die  too  soon  and  so  deprive  the  ceremony  of  its  .sacrilicial  cliaractci- 
and  the  company  of  full  satisfaction  at  seeing  an  enemy  suffer. 

85.  This  is  the  hell-diver,  as  some  say,  or  the  nniilhen.  as  others  say. 

86.  This  term  means  simply  "  Great  Duck." 

87.  Canada  Wild  (loose. 

88.  The  (Jreat  Blue  I-izard,  a  mythical  animal,  winch  probably  ai-ose  from 
describing  an  ordinary  lizard  in  terms  of  the  alligator. 

89.  The  Humming  Bird. 

90.  This  is  another  mythical  anini.'il.  which  appears  under  various  forms  in 
different  stories. 

01.  This  is  the  common  name  of  the  mcle(U',  the  so-calU>d  tiredragon  ;  hnt  as 
n  JIan-Being,  the  meteor  endowed  with  humiin  life  and  faculties,  it  is  promincni 
In  many  stories. 

92.  The  original  meaning  of  this  term  is  "  He  is  master  or  controller  or  rider 
of  it";  1.  e..  any  ob.iect  of  conversation.  It  is  now  a  name  of  the  (Jod  of  the 
Christian  Church,  and  so  is  applied  here  to  the  one  whom  the  earlier  story- 
tellers would  have  called  '  Te'haro"'hiawri''go°".  the  Master  of  Life. 

93.  This  native  term  at  present  Is  ajiplied  to  the  impf)rted  idea,  "  <levil."  which 
was  quite  foreign  to  the  thinking  of  the  early  Seneca.  It  is  also  the  name  of 
the  nmckworin. 

94.  This  native  term  is  an  epithet  applied  to  a  mythical  character  well  known 
in  story-telling.  It  signifies  "The  Trickster,"  or.  more  literally.  "He  who 
abuses  i)eople  b.v  craft  often."     Cf.  Note  1.'i5. 

95.  This  long  epithet  sigiufies,  "He  is  the  niler  "  or  "the  chief  personage." 
90.  The  Rattlesnake. 

97.  Tlu'  I^arge  Womlpecker. 

98.  The  Locust,  literally,  "  Corn-ripener." 

99.  The  Crow. 


796  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

100.  Tlie  Large  Owl. 

101.  The  Vulture  (?),  or  other  hish-flying,  large,  half-mythical  bird. 

102.  The  Great  Bumblebee. 

103.  The   Winged   Ant. 

104.  rhebe  (?)  Bird;  some  say,  the  Gull. 

105.  The  Sjieaker  or  Preacher  and  the  Definer  or  Interpreter. 

106.  This  paragraph  shows  that  even  trees  and  shrubs  were  endowed  with 
human  speech. 

107.  This  is  a  vague  statement  of  the  change  held  to  be  needful  in  the  human 
body  before  it  can  enter  the  realm  of  the  departed — of  those  who  have  died. 

108.  See  preceding  note. 

109.  Tlie  Master  of  Life. 

110.  In  this  and  the  immediately  preceding  paragraphs  are  stated  some  ideas 
concerning  the  world  of  the  departed — heaven. 

111.  There  are  a  number  of  other  tales  in  which  these  ideas  are  set  forth 
in  slightly  varied  form. 

112.  The  Speaker  and  the  Interpreter,  as  already  explained  in  the  title. 

113.  This  is  the  Man-Being  represented  by  the  husk  mask  in  various  forms. 

114.  The  Stone  Coats  are  the  Genonsgwa,  which  are  a  cla.ss  of  beings  devel- 
oped fnini  the  conception  of  the  Winter  God,  Tawiskaron,  of  the  Iroquoian 
genesis  myth. 

115.  This  paragraph  shows  plainly  a  reminiscence  of  the  defeat  of  the 
forces  of  Winter  by  the  powers  of  the  Spring,  evidenced  in  the  thawing  and 
sweating  of  ice  and  snow  banks. 

116.  This  description  of  the  Whirlwind  applies  well  to  the  wooden  masks 
which  represent  the  Wind  Powers. 

117.  This  statement  emphasizes  the  constant  taboo  against  women  seeing  or 
touching  the  utensils  and  implements  and  medicines  which  belong  strictly  to  the 
activities  of  the  men. 

118.  In  story-telling  the  white  deer  is  ever  endowed  with  superior  orenda  or 
magic  power. 

119.  The  devices  employe<l  in  this  and  the  several  following  paragi-aphs  for 
deceiving  pursuing  enemies  are  not  peculiar  to  this  story. 

120.  The  Toad. 

121.  The  Crow. 

122.  The  Fox. 

123.  These  birds  were  the  great  .mcestral  Man-Beings  of  a  mythic  past  cosmic 
age;  a  study  of  the  language  of  this  paragraph  shows  this  tck  be  a  statement  of 
the  action  of  great  nature  forces.  The  next  three  paragraphs  will  bear  out  this 
remark.    Blood  is  obtained  from  a  mythic  cornstalk. 

124.  Here  the  singing  of  the  birds  is  made  the  sign  of  the  exercise  of  the 
orenda  of  the.se  animals  to  bring  about  Springtime;  and  this  orenda  is  declared 
to  be  efficacious. 

125.  Here  again  singing  is  made  the  evidence  that  tlie.>;e  so-called  animals 
are  exercising  their  powers,  but  tlie.se  powers  are  the  life-giving  activities  of 
nature. 

12G.  This  injunction  is  still  observed  among  the  medicine  priests  of  the 
Iroquoian  peoples. 

127.  This  is  the  name  of  the  Evil  Trickster,  whose  delight  is  to  al)use  and 
to  deceive  innocent  people.     Compare  note  94. 

128.  The  Yellow  Hanuner  or  \"aril. 

129.  This  statement  of  the  leaving  of  a  trail  in  the  air  by  arrows  and  by 
persons  who  are  aided  tiy  such  arrows  probably  refers  to  the  sun's  ra.vs  com- 
ing from  behind  broken  clouds  in  the  morning  or  evening. 


NOTES  ( [)  i 

130.  See  iireceding  note. 

131.  This  imiicutcs  belief  in  transmission  of  thought. 

132.  Caiinilialisni  talieu  for  frraiite<l. 

133.  In  tliis  sentence  tliere  appears  one  of  the  Wind  GoiUlesses. 

134.  In  many  stories  this  use  of  l)oiIing  oil  to  destroy  monsters  appears;  liot 
oil  or  grease  was  prol)al)iy  the  hottest  common  thing  known. 

135.  Doonongaes  for  l>(/i/itd''(iiicx  signifies  "He  has  two  long  horns."  or  "His 
two  horns  are  long,"  or,  as  appellative,  "The  one  whose  horns  are  long,"  but 
restricted  by  the  pronominal  affix  to  persons  of  the  male  .sex. 

One  of  the  most  firndy  held  beliefs  of  the  Seneca  and  other  Troi|uoian  jieoples 
was  that  there  is  a  species  of  serpent  of  moi\strous  size,  liaving  lioi-ns  like  a 
buck,  which  dwells  in  the  depths  of  deep  rivers  and  lakes  and  springs  of  water, 
and  which  comes  on  land  for  its  prey  and  also  to  bask  in  the  sunshine.  It  may 
be  suggested  that  such  a  pecidiar  notion  may  have  been  derived  from  noting 
the  hornlike  fixtures  on  wlilch  the  eyes  of  the  snail  are  fixe<l.  The  poetic 
license  of  legend  would,  of  course,  exaggerate  these  details.  This  inference  is 
strengthened  by  the  cireuinstunces  mentioned  in  this  story  that  Doonongaes  stole 
a  lodge  by  bearing  it  away  on  his  horjis :  the  snail  in  somewhat  similar  fashion 
bears  its  shell  along.  The  connn<m  Iroquoian  name  for  the  snail  is  oho"'.«i/(/c''/(', 
1.  e.,  "  It  bears  a  lodge  along  by  means  of  the  foreliead-strap."  Doonongaes  was 
a  reptile  that  haunted  "  Long  Lakiv"  and  was  probably  a  water  moi-casin. 

Hut  this  reptile  should  not  be  confounded  willi  the  .so-called  fireclragons  or 
meteors  which  were  believed  to  dwell  also  in  the  deepest  portions  of  lakes  and 
rivers ;  these  were  known  under  the  name  flaasyendiet'ha  by  the  Seneca  and 
other  northern  Iroquoian  dialects;  the  Ttiscarora  name  is  lc(ilitisti'n('".i.  a 
corrupt  form  of  the  Mohawk  word.  Kniiaxcri'nr'x.  "  It-light-goe.s-about- 
habitually." 

These  firedragons  (i.  e.,  the  meteors  of  nattire)  were  forced  by  an  inllexible 
spj'Il  or  enchantment,  exercised  by  the  oren<la  or  magic  [wiwer  of  the  (iod  of 
Life,  to  remain  in  these  watery  depths  because  the  shedding  of  sparks  of  fire 
and  lambent  flames  by  their  tiodies  would  otherwise  set  the  world  on  fire  were 
they  permitted  to  dwell  out  of  the  water  for  any  great  length  of  time,  so  they 
are  permitted  only  to  fly  from  one  deep  river  or  lake  to  another  through  the  air. 

These  mythical  hoi'ned  ser|ients  were  reputed  to  have  the  power  to  assume 
the  human  form  and  faculties  and  sometimes  even  to  marry  among  men.  and 
so  they  form  the  bin'den  of  many  weird  tales  and  .stories  which  are  told  aroinid 
the  tires  of  the  lodge  during  the  winter  season.  This  circinnstaiu-e.  so  it  is 
said,  gave  rise  to  the  ctistom  of  telling  legends  only  during  the  winter  months, 
for  the  reason  that  these  reptiles,  like  the  natural  serpent,  hibernated  doling 
the  winter  months  and  so  could  not  overhear  what  might  be  said  about  Ibeni 
in  these  legends.  Thus  legends  become  in  some  measure  "  sacr(>d,"  or  what  is 
the  same  thing,  "tabooed,"  within  limits. 

These  mythical  serpents  were  reputed  to  have  been  endowed  with  most  potent 
orenda  or  magical  power  which  was  usually  inimical  to  human  welfare.  So 
great  was  this  imputed  potency  that  at  times  it  would  even  infect  the  waters 
in  which  these  .serpents  abode,  and  (hat  water  became  an  active  agent  in  de- 
fense of  these  serpents  when  attacked  by  .some  adversary;  and  so  the  stori(>s 
repeat  the  statement  that  some  hero  was  attacked  by  a  flood  rising  from  some 
body  of  water  in  which  resided  some  such  serpent  which  was  the  object  of  the 
hero's  attack.  Tlie  flood  usually  soon  spent  itself  and  did  not  luirsue  its 
a<lversary  far.  Such  infected  water  was  reputi><l  to  have  the  power  of  annihilat- 
ing whatever  thing  it  might  come  in  contact  with;  should  it  fall  upon  the  leg 
of  an  adver.sary  of  its  master  the  leg  of  the  victim  would  simply  disapiiear. 


798  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,   AND    MYTHS 

The  Thunder  God,  Hi"iio"',  and  his  sons  were  regarded  as  the  active  enemies 
of  these  and  otlier  reptiles.  And  so  in  some  of  tlie  stories  are  found  accounts 
of  the  rescue  of  some  woman  or  human  being  from  these  mythical  serpents. 
It  is  even  said  that  these  serpents  serve  as  a  part  of  tlie  food  of  the  Thunder 
Man-beings.  But  tlie  Thunder  Man-Beings  had  but  little  power  to  attack  these 
reputed  serpent  monsters  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  1.  e.,  outside  of  their 
jurisdiction.  It  is  said  that  these  monsters  stood  in  great  fear  of  the  Thunder 
Man-beings,  and  when  the  serpents  were  out  of  the  water,  1.  e.,  out  of  their 
jurisdiction,  basking  in  the  sunshine  on  the  shore,  and  heard  in  the  horizon 
the  voice  of  Hi"nu"',  the  Thunder  God,  they  would  lose  no  time  in  seeking 
safety  in  the  depths  of  the  water. 

The  firedragon  (i.  e.,  the  meteor  of  nature)  was  regarded  as  one  of  the 
most  powerful  sorcerers  known  to  mankind,  but  they  were  not  regarded  as 
persistent  foes  of  the  welfare  of  men.  There  are  tales  in  which  the  flredragon 
befriended  some  unfortunate  human  being  from  his  pursuing  enemies.  Like  all 
the  fanciful  or  rather  poetic  creations  of  these  legends,  the  firedragon  became 
multi|ilied  into  a  large  group  and  some  were  reported  to  have  been  killed  by 
some  very  powerful  human  sorcerer. 

13G.  Ganyodaes  for  SkCinio'docH  or  Tkdnio'dacs  is  a  proper  name.  The  pre- 
fixed s-sound  has  an  intensive  force  that  is  characteristic  of  descriptive  appel- 
latives;  it  denotes  a  marked  degree  of  the  quality  or  proi)erty  named  by  the 
adjective  or  a  noteworthy  proficiency  in  the  action  stated  by  some  verbs ;  with 
nouns  it  connotes  the  meanings,  "  large,"  "  important,"  or  "  noted."  Hence, 
Skanio' does  signifies,  "  It  is  a  very  long  lake."  or  idiomatically,  "  It  is  the  well- 
known  long  lake.'"  The  prefixed  f-.sound  in  Tkanio'daes  is  the  aflix  t  or  ti  of 
remote  place,  meaning  approximately,  "there,"  "yonder,"  and  it  is  applied 
to  sentence  words  of  the  second  and  third  person.s.  So  Tkanio'daes  means, 
literally,  "There  it-lake  long  (is),"  or  freely,  "There  where  the  long  lake  (is)." 

137.  Skahnowa  is  coiTectl.v  written  Skd'iw'wd.  which  is  not  the  usual  Seneca 
form  of  the  name.  Hd'iio'ud  is  the  customary  form  of  this  word  denoting  the 
turtle.  But  the  test  form  is  that  employed  in  proper  names.  The  initial 
s-.sound  is  an  intensive  nlBx  which  is  explained  in  note  136.  The  following  ka 
is  the  zoic  pronominal  affix  of  thesingular  third  per.son,  meaning,  "  it  "  or  "  its." 
And  -'noud  is  the  noun  stem,  denoting  "  the  carapace  of  the  turtle."  The 
whole  means,  "Its  carapace  (is)  very  great,"  freely.  "It  is  the-great-turtle." 
The  initial  hd  of  the  customary  form  is  the  anthropic  pronominal  affix  of  the 
singular  ma.sculine  third  person,  meaning  "  he." 

138.  In  story  and  tradition  the  fungus  growing  on  trees  and  rocks  was  a 
favorite  substance  with  which  those  who  sought  to  deceive  intended  victims,  in 
the  matter  of  food,  prepared  dishes  inviting  to  the  eye  but  deadly  when  eaten. 
Puffballs,  mushrooms,  and  lichens,  especially  Vmbilicaria  arctira.  or  rock  tripe 
(i.  e.,  the  tripe  de  roche  of  the  French  voyageurs)  were  not  infrequently  made 
into  stews  and  soups  for  food,  and  so  they  readily  lent  themselves  as  a  means 
of  deception  of  the  unwary. 

13!).  r)jidjo'gwen,  cori'ectly  written  DjidjoUjirr"'.  or  as  jironounced  by  some, 
DjidjOi't'k'hioe"',  is  the  fishhawk  or  osprey,  Pandiun  haliaeius.  Tlie  Seneca 
term  is  apparently  a  compressed  form  of  a  sentence  word  meaning,  "  What 
habitu:illy  takes  fish  out  of  the  watei'" 

14(1.  A  "gift  in  payment"  is  required  because  the  magic  power  of  the  thief 
has  been  overcome  by  the  wronged  individual  and  the  life  of  the  culiirit  is 
forfeited  to  him. 

141.  Dediosteniagon,  correctly  written  Ilcdiio'stt'fitiid"ffu".  is  a  name  of  the 
Seneca  for  Wolf  Hun,  New  York.     Tlie  name  signifies  literally  "  There  in-two 


NOTES  799 

It-It  rock  lijis  broken."  ;inil  is  ;i  cuiiiiiiini  lU'scriptivi'  Miipi'lhitioii  of  i-ock  t-lilTs 
or  stocp  procipici's  or  ilt'i'p  cluisiiis  ol'  hroUt'ii  rocks. 

1-41;.  The  Sonocii.  like  all  the  oilier  Inxpioiiui  peoples,  iipply  the  lerni  <n'i'</irc', 
"  niiin,"  "  huiiian  beins."  not  only  to  huiiiiin  beiiii;s  like  themselves  liut  iilso  to 
such  beitiK.s  us  arise  from  the  i)ersoiiltic.iti<in  of  the  pheiionieiia  of  nature  ami 
life  which  as.sume  the  form  ami  faculties  ami  activities  of  human  beings.  It 
was  a  habit  of  these  lansuajres  to  qualify  this  Um-ui  oi'i'pire'  by  the  adjective 
oii'icc',  meaning  "native,  original,  true,  naturnl."  lo  distingiiish  the  real  luiman 
beiUKS  from  the  creations  of  their  poetic  fancy;  and  upon  the  advent  of  trans- 
Atlantic  peoples  the  term  oi'igwe"oiiice'  remained  to  distinsuish  ihe  Indian  man 
from  the  newcomer. 

14:5.  8ce  Note  i:{S. 

144.  The  word  "openini;"  is  a  literal  rendering  of  the  Seneca  for  a  "clear- 
ing" surroundinj;  a  lodge  or  village;  in  formal  or  ceremonial  language  It  Is 
sometimes  used  for  "  village"  or  "settlement." 

14.").  The  meaning  of  tlie  Seneca  words  of  this  song  is,  "  Now,  (lie  game  ainmal 
has  come  in  to  visit  us";  a  cannilialisi  ic  reference. 

146.  The  correct  written  form  of  (iaintlio  is  ilCivn'  flin' ;  it  signilies.  "Let  the 
wind  cease  blowing."  "  Let  there  be  a  calm." 

147.  The  correct  form  of  "  Hwu  "  is  hint";  it  is  an  exclamation  indicating 
(hat  the  .u't  of  a  sorierer  is  recognized  in  whati-ver  (uay  have  taken  place, 
expressing  suriunse  at  the  jxiwer  exhibited. 

148.  The  natne  (iwidogwido,  correctly  written  C iriili'/f/triilo'.  is  an  onomato- 
poetic  word,  designating  tin'  llickcr.  lii;;ldiuldcr,  ur  goidiMi-wiiiged  «ciod- 
pecker  (Cdluptix  (iiirdliix). 

149.  The  word  l).|ibi>iisiloiii|g\vcn.  I'cirrrnly  wrillcn  llji'}ii"xiUii'i''(iiri'".  is  the 
Seneca  name  fi>r  the  aid  or  eiiiiiu't. 

l.")0.  The  uiird  1  >.ioi"iiaik.  corrci'tly  writlcii  Djdi'i'inik.  is  the  Seneca  name 
of  the  robin  redbreast  {Miriild  iniijnttoria).  In  the  story  it  Is  called  by  the 
epithet  of  the  "  Laughing  Man,"  which  refers  to  a  certain  series  of  notes  of 
this  bird,  which  resemble  exultant  laughter  among  men. 

ir>l.  This  reference  to  the.  use  of  the  jiipe  calls  attention  to  a  well-known 
habit  of  reputed  sorcerers  of  smoking  in  onler  to  gain  immunity  from  the  ap- 
jirehended  .spell  or  enchantment  in  the  presence  of  strangers.  ICvery  sorcerer 
of  any  rei)Ute  prepareil  his  toliairo  with  magic  herbs  which  were  su|iiioscil  io 
protect  him  from  any  malign  iiitlueiice  which  luiglit  be  exercised  by  a  visitor 
or  visitors.  Hence  the  custom  of  smoking  when  about  to  hear  some  startling 
information. 

152.  The  expression  "hindered  by  the  lake"  is  a  veiled  reference  to  the  fact 
that  this  lake,  or  rather  its  waters,  had  been  charged  with  magic  power  or 
orenda  to  defend  its  owner.  The  particular  method  by  which  this  orenda  or 
magic  power  accomplished  this  object  was  by  rendering  its  viitims  \incon- 
scious,  as  the  epithet,  (Jaiiiyonhiidlontha  Uaniuihw  (i.  e.,  Gd'nigo"'a'do"" t'hi' 
(litniii'fhic'),  meaning,  "It  It-mind  to-be-lost  causes,"  or  the  "delirium-causing" 
lake,  indicates.  Thus,  the  haunts  of  the  allies  of  sorcerers  were  usually  made 
impenetrable  to  persons  who  jiosse.ssed  .■!  lesser  measure  of  orenda  or  magic 
power. 

153.  The  name  (ianlagwailiegowa,  written  \iu';iirai'li< yoic'i,  or  correctly 
Oania'gtrui' hcyOioa,  is  the  name  of  a  mythic  monster  which  was  described  as 
a  huge  bear,  being  vulnerable  only  in.  the  soles  of  its  forefeet:  keen  of  scent. 
it  never  allowed  anything  to  escape  tliat  crusscrl  its  circular  track  or  path; 
it  was  represented  as  hairless  except  as  In  its  tail,  and  that  it  liad  over  its  foic- 
quarters  a  large  riilge  or  fold  of  tle^li.  These  characteristics  suthced  to  make 
this   fanciful   creature  a   sourci>  of  abject   terror.      Tts   reputed    form   m;iy   have 


800  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

Ijeen  due  to  a  confusion  of  buffalo  form  and  that  of  a  grizzly  bear.  The  mean- 
ing of  the  sentence  here  is  that  this  monster  was  one  of  the  animal  fetishes  of 
the  speaker.  The  final  -gowCi,  meaning  "large,  great,"  signifies  here  "the 
well-known  "  or  "  the  noted,"  bear  monster. 

154.  The  word  Has'honyot,  coM;e(tly  written  Has'hoiY'iot,  is  an  epithet,  mean- 
ing "  His  liack  stands  out,  is  i)rotul>erant,"  wliich  is  aiiplied  by  stoi-j'-tellers 
to  the  crawfish  or  lobster  because  its  back  ever  seems  turned  toward  the  ob- 
server. Tlie  name  Odjieqdah,  correctly  written  0<lji'e"(la',  is  the  common 
designation  of  the  lobster  or  crawfish  and  crab;  the  word  signifies  "  The  claw." 

155.  The  word  S'hodieonskon,  correctly  written  /S'Aoffie'o"sAo"',  is  the  name 
of  a  fanciful  creature  who  went  about  playing  tricks  on  all  kinds  of  people. 
He  was  reputed  to  be  a  brother  of  Death.     He  was  In  fact  the  God  of  Mischief. 

1.^6.  The  word  sentence  Hasdeaundyet'ha,  correctly  written  HaKdeaundU'- 
t'hd'.  is  an  epithet  applied  to  Hi"no°',  the  Thunderer,  and  signifies  "  He  it  to 
rain  causes,"  or  the  Rainmaker.  But  here  it  may  possibly  refer  to  a  species 
of  worm  which  bears  this  name. 

157.  The  expression  or  epithet,  "  Complete  power,"  does  not  in  the  least 
convey  the  idea  of  a  single  overruling  Being,  but  rather  of  a  Being  who  pos- 
sessed such  exceptional  power  as  to  require  no  outside  aid  in  accomplishing  his 
purposes.  In  this  Bloodsucker  episode  there  is  a  touch  of  the  extravaganza 
in  story-telling. 

1.58.  The  Seneca  words  signify  "  Now,  it  has  returned,  that  by  which  he 
lives;  so  now  again  he  shall  stand  upon  the  earth." 

1.59.  The  expression  "  blew  into  the  mouth  "  indicates  how  closely  life  and 
breath  were  connected  in  the  minds  of  the  story-telling  ancestors  of  the 
Seneca. 

160.  The  expression  "  of  stone "  is  probably  an  exaggeration  of  the  clay 
or  mud  shelters  of  the  crawfish  or  lobster. 

161.  See  Note  149. 

162.  The  expression  "end  of  the  earth"  evidently  can  mean  the  horizon  only; 
it  could  not  mean  atigbt  else  here.  This  expression  perhaps  strengthened  the 
tendency  to  belief  in  a  limited  earth.  And  this  is.  too.  a  good  example  of  the 
reification  of  an  illusion. 

163.  The  word  Tsodiqgwadon,  correctly  written  Tnudh/'f/ivado"',  is  the  name 
of  a  species  of  copperhead  snake. 

164.  The  question  to  be  decided  with  all  sorcerers  is  that  of  the  potency  of 
the  orenda  or  magic  power  possessed  by  them. 

165.  The  reference  here  is  to  tlie  implied  ch.iUenge  in  the  contest  just  ended 
with  the  life  of  the  loser  as  the  conceded  prize  of  the  winner.  So  Doonongaes 
having  lost  in  the  test  of  the  jwwer  of  his  orenda  must  make,  if  possible,  com- 
position for  his  life  with  his  vanquisher. 

166.  This  struggle  continuing  "  day  and  night  for  one  month  "  is  probably 
a  reference  to  the  fact  that  the  moon  once  a  month  waxes  and  wanes  and  yet 
Is  not  overcome  or  destroyed. 

167.  The  expression  "  people  of  orenda,  or  magic  power,"  signifies  that  these 
are  people  who  make  a  business  of  sorcery,  and  so  the  line  should  begin,  "  We 
sorcerers,"  etc. 

168.  The  word  Dagwanoenyent,  correctly  written  Daguano'rii'Un.  is  the 
name  of  the  Cyclone  as  a  personified  thing.  The  name  .seems  to  refer  to  the 
habit  of  cyclones  to  hurl  things  against  the  beads  of  people.  The  term  means 
apparently.  "  What  habitually  hits  or  knocks  our  heads." 

169.  This  term  "  Niagwaihe "  is  evidently  an  error  for  the  full  form 
"  Ganiagwaihegowa."     See  Note  153. 


NOTES  801 

170.  The  wiinl  I>j;uii()Sgo\va,  correctly  written  Djni'nnxpoirCt,  is  the  name  of 
n  more  or  less  rniicil'ul  creature.  It  i)rol)alil.v  received  its  cliaracteristics  from 
hearsay  reports  of  llie  alligator  wliich  were  transferred  to  the  fence  lizanl,  or 
swift.  The  native  interpreters  usually  translate  the  word  liy  the  words  "  l)lue 
lizard."  In  story  and  legend  it  is  a  most  ferocious  antagonist,  because  of  its 
reputed  invulnerahility.  Tlie  linal  two  syllables,  yuwn,  signify  "large,  great," 
wliiie  the  remainder  of  the  word  means,  "  li/.ard."  so  that  literally  the  comljiiia- 
tion  sigtulies,  "The  (Jreat  Lizard,"  and  in  liirt-nd.  "The  Monstrous  Lizard." 

171.  Tlie  reference  liere  to  the  ijower  of  "becoming  alive  again"  very  prol)- 
ahly  rests  on  tlie  hibernating  habits  of  re|)tiles,  shedding  their  skins,  indicating 
change  of  bodies. 

i~2.  The  word  llanondon,  correctly  written  l/mioii'dn".  is  the  ordinai'v 
Seneca  name  for  the  water  snake,  iirobably  the  TrojiiilDiiotUH  si/x'daii. 

173.  The  word  H.iwiqson( t),  correctly  written  Jlnwiij'sun,  is  the  connnon 
Seneca  and  Iroquoian  name  of  the  milk  snake,  Ophibolim  dolialiis. 

111.  The  word  Gasaisdowanen,  correctly  written  (las'haiu'doiranr",  is  the 
name  of  a  large  seriient  in  Iroquoian  mythic  lore.  The  name  siginfies.  "  It- 
.serpent  .great   (is),"  or  "The  (jreat  Serpent." 

175.  Diagoisiowanens,  correctly  written  Dinfioi'cin' in'uir"s.  is  a  descriptive 
epithet  applied  as  an  aiipellative  to  the  meadow  lark,  sigiufying,  "  llei-leggings- 
large  (are),"  or  "She  whose  leggings  lare)   large." 

176.  Hononeowanen.  correctly  written  Jhiiio"'e'oirait('".  is  tlie  name  of  a 
species  of  snake,  i)robalily  the  coiiiierhc.id,  and  signities.  "  llis-head-Iarge  (is)," 
or  iioimlarly,  "  I!ig  Head." 

177.  One  of  the  dominant  notes  of  these  stories  is  that  when  one  of  the  great 
sorcerers,  mentioned  so  often  in  them,  is  cornered,  stress  of  circumstances 
force  them  to  resume  their  true  natures;  so  Poonongaes  must  do  here. 

178.  The  native  word  rendered  "man"  here  is  the  ordinary  designation  for 
"human  being."  These  deities  were  classilied  with  the  Iniman  race  of  beings. 
See  note  142. 

171*.  Tli(>  Word  Hostoyowanen,  correctly  written  lln.st'iio' irtinv",  is  an  epithet 
used  as  an  ap|iellative  noun,  descriptive  of  the  buck  of  the  deer;  it  signities, 
"His  headdress  large   (is),"  referring  to  the  crown  of  antlers. 

ISO.  This  statement  evidently  refers  in  an  exaggerated  way  to  the  long 
periods  of  fasting  which  hibernation  enforces  on  snakes  and  other  reiitiles. 

181.  The  expression  Deyenegoiisdasden.  correctly  written  DciK  ncpo" xda' xdri'i' . 
is  a  descriptive  ai>i)ellative  which  is  ai^plied  to  the  partridge;  it  signities,  "  Her 
two  wings  large  (are)." 

152.  The  erection  and  use  of  a  iiole  in  this  manner  was  quite  common  at  great 
feasts  or  holidays.  And  the  great  wizards  and  sorcerers  employed  this  means. 
too,  for  testing  the  orenda  or  magic  juiwer  of  visitors  and  guests.  The  state- 
ment that  this  one  reache<l  the  clouds  shows  that  it  was  an  ad.iunct  to  the 
means  of  amusement  and  of  testing  out  at  the  same  time  the  orenda  or  ma.gic 
Iiower  of  those  who  came  seeking  the  hand  of  the  rartri<lge's  d.angbler. 
Shooting  at  an  eagle  on  such  a  pole  is  a  common  incident  in  the  stories. 

153.  He  sent  a  woman  in  order  to  neutralize  the  malign  infection  given  liis 
arrow  by  being  touched  by  alien  wizards. 

154.  The  u.sual  rule  among  Iro(|uoi[in  tribes  is  for  the  mother  or  some  other 
female  kit!  to  suiierintenil  the  marriage  of  a  girl.  This  ina.v  he  a  story  which 
has  been  modified  by  ideas  of  father  right,  or  descent  in  the  male  line,  possibly 
adoi>ted  from  an  alien  peojile  having  this  custom. 

1S3.  This  reference  is  to  the  cliief's  lodge. 
94615°— 18 51 


802  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 

186.  The  nuiiil>er  10  is  unusual  in  sturies  of  tliis  cliaracter.  It  was  i)robal>ly 
a  vague  estimate  of  the  size  of  tlie  earth's  surface — 16  days  in  one  direction 
from  the  spealier,  rouslily  a  luilf  month. 

187.  Dedyosdenhon  for  dcdiid'ati'n'o"  was  a  place  name,  which  signified  "At 
the  place  of  the  fallen  rocli." 

188.  The  Partridge  people  are  here  represented  as  weak  in  sorcery. 

189.  Deienensowanens  for  Dicnf^so' icinCs  signifies  "Her  shoulders  (are) 
large  or  broad." 

190.  Deanohd.jes  for  Dvaiio"(ljts  is  tlie  descriptive  name  of  the  walrus;  the 
term  signities  "  His  two  teeth  (are)  long." 

191.  Geia  is  the  generic  name  for  a  w.ilrus. 

192.  The  time  of  one  year  here  apparently  refers  to  the  period  of  hiberna- 
tion— the  ab.sence  from  his  ordinary  home. 

193.  Nitgeudasadieha  for  lVity('rida''nadU''ii  signifies  "At  the  narrow  opening 
or  clearing." 

194.  The  numeral  "  10 "  here  and  in  the  fourth  line  above  appears  to  be 
simply  a  round  number  indicative  of  a  long  time. 

195.  Osigweou  for  O'si'ywcon  is  the  name  of  the  rattlesnake,  and  signifies 
"  What  has  a  (?)  spear  affixed  to  it." 

196.  The  smoke  from  the  pipe  would  have  niagic.illy  overpo«ere<l  Poonongaes, 
and  so  it  must  not  ari.se  witliout  protest. 

197.  Hinon  for  Hi"no"',  one  of  the  oldest  names  among  Iroquoian  peoples  for 
the  Thunder  Man-Being,  was  the  uncoraproinisiug  enemy  of  all  serpents,  and 
was  at  the  same  time  the  especial  guardian  of  mankind. 

198.  Gendagwen(t)  for  OCfida'nirrii  is  a  place  name,  signifying  "  At  the  broad 
or  flat  clearing  or  field."  The  final  J-sound  of  the  original  is  elided  in  modern 
Seneca  pronunciation. 

199.  The  meaning  here  is  not  clear,  but  it  would  seem  f(j  refer  to  the  fact 
that  a  cyclone  in  a  forest  embraces  in  its  sweep  all  manner  of  birds. 

200.  Gauos  for  yd' no's  is  the  name  of  a  .species  of  frog. 

201.  This  is  a  reference  to  a  native  notion  that  the  earth  was  a  flat  surface 
not  more  than  16  days'  journey  from  the  center  to  the  edge. 

202.  This  number  "  10  "  is  probably  only  a  round  figure  denoting  a  long  time 
and  a  difficult  journey.     C'omi)art  Xote  194. 

203.  This  number  is  probably  a  reflex  of  the  last  number  mentioned.  Six- 
teen days  were  consimied  in  the  outward  journey.  The  use  of  ilefinite  num- 
bers for  the.se  journeys  is  perhaps  an  attempt  to  make  unhistorical  dates  seem 
probable. 

204.  (iaisonhe  for  Gai'so""hc'  is  the  daddy-long-legs  (harvest-man.  carter,  and 
grand-daddy-long-legs  are  other  names  for  this  insect). 

205.  Ohohwa  ohnoh  for  O'o' icfi'  ()"iion'  mean  "Owl  its  arrow." 

206.  Odji'eq'da'  is  the  name  of  the  crab  and  signifies  "It   (is)   the  claw." 

207.  S'hodieonskon  for  s'lwdVo^'sko"'  is  the  name  of  a  mythic  character 
whose  chief  activities  were  to  play  pranks  on  all  i)ersons.  In  some  tales  he  is 
rejiresented  as  a  brother  to  Death.     See  note  155. 

208.  Odauhdjah  for  <>dau"'dja'  is  the  name  of  a  sniall  white  root. 

209.  Deiehnies  for  I>iii''iiir\-  is  a  proper  name  signifying  "  Iler-two-cl.iws- 
(or  hands)    (are)    long." 

210.  This  was  because  her  magic  power  or  orenda  was  overcome  by  that  of 
Poonongaes. 

211.  Dagwennigonhge  for  D(i</"'<'".'''".'/""'".'/'"  is  the  n.-inic  of  a  lizard  about 
IS  inches  long;  the  name  signifies  "What  deceives  us,"  literally,  "What  gives 
us  two  minds." 


NOTES  803 

212.  These  were  cyelonos,  nnd  the  hehavior  of  such  iihenonioim  ju'rhaps  pive 
rise  to  the  epithet  cited  in  Note  1(58. 

213.  Hiihujusdais  for  lld'iiiii'x'dais  is  a  pniper  n.iiiie  ami  ileiiotes  "  Hi.s 
upper  lip   (is)   long." 

214.  Deagonstwihes  for  D('ago''stioi"es  is  tlie  name  of  the  lohster,  and  sig- 
nifies "His  wliislvers    (are)    long." 

21.^.  Hauiihdji  for  II(iii''"ilji  signifies  "He  (is)  l)laci;,"  possibly  referring 
to  the  hlacksiialii'.  hut  tlie  name  of  tlie  rattlesnalie  in  disguise  is  "  His  face 
black    (is)." 

21G.  This. was  the  ei^illu't  applied  tn  tlic  ruliin  wlm  had  killed  I>oonongaes, 
taken   rniiii  ils  note  in   llit-'lit. 

217.  llalkwis'dowanen  lor  llntlcirix'douaiic"  is  a  i>ro|K^r  name,  signifying 
"His  belly  (is)  large." 

218.  Hushewathen  for  Ifns'lu  irii'fhci'i  is  a  pro[)er  name,  signifying  "  His 
paunch  is  dry." 

21!l.  lOvery  repntahle  sorcerer  posses>;cd  a  ijonch  of  the  entire  skin  of  some 
rare  lieast,  in  which  were  kept  all  his  charnis,  fetishes,  and  niedicines. 

220.  Hagondowanen  for  llii)io""il<)ir^in'"  signifies  "He  whose  forehead  is 
large  or  high." 

221.  These  words  signify  "Now  ;ill  those  animals  whi<'li  are  L'aine  havi> 
returned,"    which    has   a    .seasonal    refereiici' — return    from    hil)ernation. 

222.  Oonyahsgweont  for  (l()nia"sgirron  is  the  descriptive  eiiithet  aiijilied  to 
the  toad,  signifying  "  Her  throat  is  swollen." 

223.  Nosgwais  lor  Xos'f/icuix  i.s  the  comiimii  name  of  the  toad. 

224.  The  time  of  sunrise  m.-irked,  in  the  belief  of  the  early  Iroquois,  a  change 
in  the  exertion  of  orenda  or  magic  power;  so  the  flint  knife  was  withdrawn 
heciiu.se  tlie  hewit<hing  jiower  was  off  guard  at  this  moment — among  wizards. 

22.x  Yondekhonyatha  (lanotidayen  for  YondtUlidi'niid't'hn  (ItuKni'ilain'"'  sig- 
nifies "They  use  It  for  eating  It-village-(is)." 

220.  This  expression  is  not  modified  or  influenced  by  European  thought;  the 
native  conception  requires  the  name  of  .such  a  power. 

227.  .Stone  Coat  is  the  n.-inie  of  a  inylhi<'  being  commotdy  cilled  by  the 
Seneca  (!<'"iio"">iflira'.     See  the  Introdur-tion  for  an  explanation. 

228.  Other  instances  occur  in  these  stories  in  which  ba.ssw I  In  (>niployed  to 

overcome  individuals  of  the  Stone  Coat  people. 

22i).  Hinoii  for  //i"«o"'  is  tla-  name  of  the  Thunilerer ;  later  in  Iro<piois 
thought  there  wer*>  four  wiio  biu'e  this  name  and  who  were  the  foes  of  all 
milliner  of  reptiles  jind  siiiikes.  and  the  friends  of  mankind.  The  woril  is 
singular  in  form  but  with  ii  plural  implication,  according  to  the  context. 

2.'!(>.  These  wmds.  ciirerlly  written  (l(iii'<''ni'iH  (l('nlc<''>iorn'ik  fi<i»io"s'lii>ii 
i"kc'()c'''hcif><'n'(lj''i'li"',  signify,  "  It  is  permitted  to  .scalp  ;i  |iersoii  if  it  be  so 
that  I  will  see  liim  here  on  earth." 

2.'n.  (Jendiigaliiideiiyallni  for  <:i'"'il(W<idil(nia"t'hii'  is  tlie  n;iinc  of  the  cuminon 
scanihicid  beetle,  usually  called  the  tunihU'hug. 

2.T2.  The.se  Seneca  words  signify.  "  It  is  rmt  possible  that  I  should  scalp  you. 
iilthough  I  have  now,  indeed,  entered  the  pbice  where  you  abide." 

233.  Nanishe'onon  for  .\'e'  hanis'he'ono"'  signifies  "  He  who  dwells  in  the 
earth,  or  in  the  ground."  and  it  is  the  iiiime  of  the  muckworni.  the  larvji  of  the 
scarabivid  beetl<>  {  l.iiiiirn.s  rrlictiis).  The  name  being  that  applied  to  the 
("hristiiui  conci'pt  of  Siitiin.  the  story-teller  here  endows  the  larva  with  the 
character  of  .Sntiin.  based  solel.v  on  the  etymology  of  the  term. 

2.34.   Deano'Mjes.  "He  who  lias  two  long  teeth,"  is  the  name  of  the  walrus. 

23."i.  Hiiiwanenqgwi  for  liriiii-u'ni"'(i'!iirV  is  the  name  of  the  council  mes- 
senger, meaning,  "He  who  sweeps  aw;iy  the  affiiirs." 


804  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 

236.  (iaha  Gastende  for  Gd"ha,'  Tga'stcn'de'  signifies,  "  WinJ  Cliff,"  literally, 
'•  It-WiiKl  There-It-Kock-Stands." 

237.  Gahsgwaa  Tgavyenot  for  Gn'sgwa'd'  Tijawc'not  siguifles  "  It-Rock  There- 
It-Islaiui-Stands,"  or  Rock  Island. 

238.  Othegwenhdah  Tgaweuot  for  Ot'hagw('"\la'  rgnirl'not  signifies  "It- 
Chert  or  Flint  It-Island-Stands."  or  Flint  Island. 

239.  Oosah  Tgawenot  for  OO'sa'  Tgawe'not  siguifles  "  It-Basswood  It-Islund- 
Stands,"  or  Basswood  Island. 

240.  Gai"so''' he'  is  tlie  name  of  the  daddy-long-legs. 

241.  Nitgawenosatieha  for  Nitgnwetw"'  satie'a  signifies  "There  at  the  Narrow 
Island." 

242.  Djinonhsanon  for  Djimo'^'sano"  is  the  name  of  the  cricket,  meaning 
Mterally  "  Lodge  watch  or  guard."  The  name  was  given  because  this  insect 
cries  when  the  lodge  or  house  becomes  silent. 

243.  Tgawenogwen  for  Tgaice'iio'gwcn  is  a  place  name  signifying  "  There, 
at  the  Broad  Island." 

244.  Onowehda  for  0'noire"(ld'  is  the  name  of  the  angleworm. 

245.  Djisdaah  for  djisda'a  is  the  name  of  the  grasshopper.  So  that  Djisdaah 
Tgawenot  means  "  Grasshopper  Island." 

246.  See  note  237. 

247.  Hoonkgowanen  for  Hoo'^'kgoird'nc"  is  the  name  of  the  Pelican  (?)  and 
signifies,  "  His  thnjat  or  gullet  is  large." 

248.  See  note  230. 

249.  Shayades  for  S'liii!iu''dvf!  is  the  name  of  the  bhicksnake,  meaning  "His 
body   (is)   notedly  long." 

250.  Deanohsgwis  for  l>vaiM'''s'gicis  is  the  name  of  a  kind  of  grasshopper  ( ?), 
meaning  "  His  jump  (trajectory)    (is)  long." 

251.  See  note  243. 

252.  See  note  244. 

253.  Hononhengwen  for  Hono"'e""given  is  a  proper  name,  meaning.  "His 
head   (is)  broad." 

254.  (ianehdaiikbon  Tgahadayen  Tgawenot  for  Ganc'dniik'ho"'  Tgiiltdild'iC"' 
Tynwr'ni)t  is  a  place  name,  meaning,  "  It  is  green  It-forest-is  there-it-island-is." 
or  "  The  Island  of  the  (3reen  Forest." 

25.5.  Degatengowa  for  Dtgatc""g6ica  is  the  name  of  the  large  dust-colored 
grasshopper,  about  2  inches  long.  Its  habit  of  leaping  up  in  the  air  3  or  4 
feet  and  remaining  almost  stationary  by  a  fluttering  of  the  wings  is  referred 
to  in  the  next  line  in  the  story. 

250.  Henhgadji  for  He""giidji  .signifies,  "His  tail  (is)  black,"  referring  to 
the  marking  of  the  tail. 

257.  See  note  245. 

258.  The  use  of  the  pipe  was  to  fortify  himself  against  any  evil  influence 
that  might  be  employed  by  the  stranger. 

259.  Hodehondasiowanen  for  lludc'int  dnniO'itdnc"  signifies  "His  quid  (is) 
large." 

260.  Gaasyendiet'ha  for  Gad'sioridie't'hd'  is  the  name  of  the  meteor  or  so- 
calleti  firedragon.  and  signifies.  "  He  emits  or  casts  out  flames  of  fire." 

261.  Gaonhiahge  Tgastendeh  for  Gdo"'id"gc'  Tga'stcn'de'  signify  "On  the 
Sky,  or  in  the  Sky.  there  It-Rock-Island  Stands  forth,"  or  freely,  "  The  Rock 
Cliff  or  Peak  in  the  Sky." 

262.  Tkwendahen  Niohsiowesiohden  for  Tkwc"'dd"eii'  Xio'ciowecio"dcii 
signify  "His  jacket  (is)   retl." 

263.  Gaahgwa  Tgawenot  for  Gmi'gwd'  TgaicC'nol  signify,  "  Sun  there-it- 
island,"  or  "  Island  of  the  Sun." 


NOTES  805 

204.  Djiihtrwi.vu  Utr  I)jd"inch/u  is  ilic  iiaiiie  of  the  tnnuKer. 

'2ij~>.  ( HuKiiKi^on  (t )  TsawciKit  fur  ()'nu""ii<in  Tijnui' not  sisrnify,  "  llumble- 
beo  Tliere-It-Ishmd,"  or  "  liiiiiihlehec  Islaiul." 

20(!.  Djilitkwalu'ii  Niotliwaliasyoirdcii  for  Dji'tl;ird"cn'  Ni'ot'ioah(i'cio"dS'^ 
signify,  "  His  licit  is  yollow  ".  wliicli  is  the  name  of  a  liind  of  bee. 

207.  Gainluloya  Tgaweiiol  for  (:iii"'(lo"id'  Tgawc'not  signify  ••  .\t  Ulaiiliet 
(or  perhaps  better  Ilolie)   Island,"  i.  e.,  "It-Uobe  There-It-Tslaiid." 

liOS.  l).iihtl<\valH'n  Ilaos  for  l)ji'lic<i"i'ii'  Ilii6x  sisnily  "His  robe  or  blanket 
is  yellow."  the  name  of  n  kind  of  bee. 

20'.).  Halinowa  Tfiawenot  for  lUi'tiC/ua  Tiinwr'nut  sii;iiify  ".\i  ihe  Turtle 
Island." 

270.  llnnii'tifCuidiii'iiit.  the  correct  form.  sif;nilies  "His  teeth  (arel  shani;" 
bnl  it  may  signify  "His  tooth   (is)  sharp." 

271.  Ohneqsah  Tgawenot  for  0'ne"sd'  TyawO'not  signify  "At  Sand  Island," 
or  "It-Sand  Therelt-Island." 

272.  Sowek-shohon  for  SO'irrk-s'lin'o",  ilie  plural  form  of  So'irrl.-.  sLi:nifie.s 
"  Ducks."  but  sometimes  meaning  "  All  kinds  of  ducks." 

2,78.  Ilabnyalises  for  //(?»«/'■.'«•.<  signifies  "His  neck   (is)   long." 
271.  Awaeh  for  Aira"e'  denotes  "the  Swan." 
27r>.  See  note  204. 
270.  See  note  202. 

277.  This  was  done  by  means  of  sorcery.  .\  reed  was  a  usual  m(>ans  for 
"sliooting"  a  person  by  sorcery. 

278.  Ooanyahge  Diyoendjaileh  for  (!dn"id"pc'  IMioU'n'djt'Kh'  siginfy  "  II  Sky- 
On  There-it-hand-Stands." 

279.  S'hadahgeah  for  O'n'lifi'dd'ffriV  signifies  "  I'ertaining  to  the  region  of  the 
clouds,"  or,  jierbaps,  "  On  or  against  the  clouds," 

2.50.  Odalinocigwi.vah  Haos  for  ()(ld'>i<)"'i/iri'id'  Hn'ns  signify  "His  IJobe  (is) 
of  down." 

2.51.  The  nundier  "7"  is  sometimes  used,  while  ,il  other  limes  (lie  number 
"4"  is  laltei'ly  \iseil,  to  reiiresent  the  number  of  people  who  arc  called  Hinon 
or  the  Tlumder  I'eople,     See  note  220. 

2.52.  Shedwaqsot  for  Slieilird",n')t  signifies  "Our  gr.indf.ilher," 

2.53.  Hahasdensyowanen  for  lld'-s'li<inili'''n'i(iifiin<'"  signilies  "lie  whose  power 
(is)   great." 

2.54.  Od<inseh  for  0(lo"'.if'  is  the  name  of  a  kind  of  worm. 

2Sr).   Shagoewatha    for    S'h(iiiiirinit''Ud'    signifies    "He    puiiislies    iheni     ( m,in 
kind)"  and  is  the  name  of  the  muckworm.     This  peculiar  olTice  is  [irobably  due 
to  Ihe  identification  of  this  worm  with  Satan. 

2S0.  S'hagodiyoweiigowa  for  Shuniirliidiriq  iiuua  is  ihe  n,imc  of  the  Wind,  or 
Whirlwind. 

2S7.  (Janiagwaihegowa  for  OnnaViprnihC goK't  is  explained  in  Note  \'\^. 

2S.S.  Of|tchihgaIi  Ongwe  for  ()(itri"(t(i'  Oii'iiirc'  signify  "  It-Cloud  Human 
Being",  or  "("loud  Man",  i,  e,,  a  personified  cloud, 

2S!),   Sadja'wIskI  is  the  tianie  of  Ihe  Ibousand-legged  worm, 

2nd,  See  note  2,S,'., 

291,  The  word  "man"  liere  siginfies  "human  beings"  of  Ihe  "first   people." 

292,  Od.jisdanohgwah  for  ()iljiiiiliin<>"!iird'  is  the  name  of  a  star, 

293,  fJaaqgwaah  for  Gdd"iJiidn  is  the  name  of  the  orl>  of  the  sun.  Hut  as  its 
derivation  shows  that  it  is  the  name  of  auytlung  that  is  iireseiit  to  view,  the 
word  is  also  applied  to  the  orb  of  the  moon.  Strictly  used,  it  recpiires  the 
limiting  term,  "daytime,"  to  denote  the  sun,  and  "  niirhttime,"  to  denote  the 
nuxin.     So  the  expressions,  "  day  sun  "  and  "  night  sun,"  which  are  sometimes 


806  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

heard  or  seen,  are  inaccurate,  as  the  word  simply  means  "  What  is  present  to 
view." 

294.  See  note  169.  Niagwaihegown  of  this  line  differs  from  that  cited  in 
Note  169  by  having  the  adjective  gotrfi  "great,  large, monstrous,"  suftised  to  it. 

29.x  Tgawenosdenh  for  Tgdircnos'dfiV  signifies  "At  tlie  broad  island,"'  or  "At 
the  great  island." 

296.  Othowege  for  Ot'lwive'ge'  signifies  "At  or  in  the  north,"  literally  "At 
or  in  the  place  of  cold." 

297.  Hathogowa  for  H(it'ho"ff6ir('i  signifies  "He  is  the  Great  Cold."  which  is 
evidently  the  name  of  the  Winter  Power  (God). 

298.  Otho  for  Ot"ho'  signifies  "It  is  cold." 

299.  Onenonhge  for  OHC')M"'ge'  signifies  "At  the  place  of  .sunshine." 

300.  I>edioshwine(idon  for  Dcilii/s'lurhicq'ibi"  is  the  name  of  the  "Warm 
spring  wind." 

301.  Ongwe  Honwe  for  Oiifiive'-'Uoiiirr'  signifies  "  real,  or  native,  people," 
people  in  contrast  with  pseudohunian  beings,  or  beings  that  assume  or  have  had 
the  human  form  and  attributes  belonging  to  the  myth-malving  epoch.  In  mod- 
ern times,  the  name  was  applied  to  the  native  Indian  person  in  contrast  with 
the  European  person. 

302.  (iaa.syendiefha  for  (laa'siondir' fhd'  is  the  name  of  the  firedragon,  or 
the  meteor.     See  note  260. 

303.  Stone  Coats  is  the  legendary  name  of  the  sons  of  the  Winter  God.  This 
brood  of  harmful  fictitious  creatures  owe  their  being  to  an  erroneous  folk-ety- 
mology of  the  word  Tawiskaro"',  the  name  of  the  Winter  God.    Cf.  Introduction. 

.S04.  Ongwe  Hanyos  for  On'girr'  Hd'nio's  signify  "He  is  in  the  habit  of  kill- 
ing hmuan  beings,"  .sometimes  meaning  a  cannibal. 

30f).  There  is  a  well-known  Wyandot  tradition  that  in  some  former  country 
of  their  ancestors  the  winters  were  very  severe  and  the  snows  fell  excessively 
deep — so  deep  sometimes  that  the  poor  people  had  to  dig  their  way  out  of  their 
wigwams  in  quest  of  sustenance.  Consequently,  food  was  often  scarce  and 
famine  rife,  because  the  hunters  were  unable  to  go  out  on  account  of  the  great 
depth  of  the  snow.  .\nd,  in  some  instances,  it  is  said,  the  pangs  of  hunger  were 
so  pressing  that  some  famishing  persons  were  driven  to  kill  and  devour  some 
of  their  own  neighbors  and  friends.  Other.s,  more  fortunate,  learning  of  these 
cannibalistic  acts,  decided  to  leave  the  country  at  once.  So,  digging  their  way 
out  through  the  drifted  snows,  they  finally  reached,  southward  from  their  former 
homes,  a  river  which  they  cro.ssed  and,  continuing  their  journey  some  time, 
they  at  last  reached  a  land  in  which  they  found  a  much  milder  climate.  But 
tho.se  who  remained  l)ecanie  monster.s — man-eaters,  giants,  stone  coats,  stone 
giants — and  were  very  strong  in  body.  This  is  the  popular  explanation  of  a 
lost  mytli  incident — the  activity  of  the  Winter  God. 

In  later  times,  it  is  .said,  (nie  of  these  Stone  Coats  found  his  way  to  the 
river  which  the  fugitives  had  cro.sstHl  and  stood  on  the  farther  bank,  where  lie 
was  seen  by  one  of  the  fugitive  hunters.  The  Stone  Coat  would  not  attempt 
to  cnxss  the  river  for  he  was  afraid  of  water,  but  be  called  out  across  the  river 
to  the  hunter,  who  had  escaped  from  the  northern  country,  saying,  "  Cousin,  come 
over  here."  It  is  held  that  he  wanted  to  eat  the  hunter,  who.  however,  did  not 
obey  his  summons.  But,  in  a  canoe,  he  went  close  to  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
river,  carrying  with  him  a  quantity  of  hot  deer  fat.  which  he  gave  to  the  Stone 
Coat,  telling  him  to  drink  it.  When  the  Stone  Coat  drank  it  his  coat  or  skin  of 
stone  fell  off  from  him.  and  he  cea.sed  lieing  a  man-eater,  and  he  then  was  willing 
to  cross  the  river  with  the  hunter,  whom  he  called  his  cousin.  In  the  course 
of  time  the  snows  melted  in  that  northern  country  and  the  Stone  Coats  dis- 
persed in  various  directions. 


NOTES  .  807 

Afterwnrds,  an  nlU  Stone  Coat  woiiiiui  i-.imc  to  the  village  of  the  fugitives 
on  the  soutli  side  of  the  river  (whicli  is  said  to  be  tlie  St.  Lawrence  River), 
and  the  people  dwelling  there  at  once  surmised  that  she  came  Uiere  witli  thi' 
desire  of  eating  some  one  of  Its  inlial)ilaiits.  But  a  young  man  and  his  wife 
took  a  basswood  paddle  (basswood  is  rcputc<l  in  leiiendary  lore  as  having  the 
power  of  depriving  a  Stone  Coat  of  strength  and  life)  and  they  beat  the  old 
Stone  Coat  woman  until  she  fell,  exclaiming,  "The  Little  Turtles  are  killing 
nie  "  Then  the  Stone  Coat  wonum  arose  and  lied  northward  au<l  escaped. 
The  othei-  Stone  Coats  also  di'parted  northward,  going  to  llieir  native  home, 
whicli  was  in  the  far  northland. 

3()().  In  addition  to  lliese  striking  cliaracteristics  this  peculiar  monster  was 
said  to  have  only  a  single  rib  nn  eiilier  rib,  which  lilled  the  space  (H<'U|)ied 
by  the  normal  number. 

307.  It  is  said  that  this  monster  was  v\dnerable  only  in  the  soles  of  its  feet. 

308.  This  statement  that  a  warrior's  courage  was  in  inver.se  ratio  to  the 
size  of  the  shield  he  carried  is  true  to-<lay  among  the  shield-bearing  tribes  of 
the  I'nited  States. 

309.  The  notion  exjiressed  here  that  the  members  of  the  human  or  other 
animate  body,  possessing  marked  oreiula  or  magic  power,  have  the  uncanny 
potency  to  tly  back  into  place  when  dismembered,  unless  prevented -from  doing 
so  until  cold,  is  not  unconunon  among  peoi>le  having  strong  faith  in  sorcery. 

310.  I'rotest  Is  here  made  against  the  abuse  or  nuitilation  of  the  dead. 

311.  See  Note  .")2. 

312.  Turkey. 

31.3.  This  use  of  a  born  to  pierce  I  lie  foot  of  a  coniiiel  ilor  is  not  unconnii'in 
in  these  stories. 

314.  This  statement  is  probably  only  a  waggish  addition  of  some  relator 
rather  than  the  expression  of  a  belief  tli.-ii  ilu'  sini  may  be  pushed  b.-o-k  by  any 
means. 

.31").  This  is  another  instaiu-e  of  ibe  use  of  the  eyes  of  living  birds  instead 
of  the  usual  plum  pits  in  this  game. 

310.  This  incident  occiu's  in  another  slory  of  this  (•olleciii>n.     See   Nole  IIS. 

317.  This  statement   gives   this   incident   a    cosinical    implication. 

318.  This  implies  plainly  that  the  so-called  "  n.iked  dance"  was  a  feiish  of 
this  iierson. 

310.  This  term  signifies.  "  He.  the  Cold  One. "     It   is  a  nam(>  of  Winter. 
.320.  This  is  a  story  of  the  Wind-Heings  or  Gods. 

.321.  The  number  10  is  connected  with  ■■ertain  rites  perlaiinng  to  the  lifting 
of  the  iierhid  of  mourning. 

.■i22.  This    is   not    tbi'    historii-:il    (prigin    of    ilii'    "  M.isk  "    sm-ienes    among    the 


Iroipiois. 

.323.  There  is  here  also  .a  vague  cosmical  impli<-alion. 

.324.  This  shows  thai  the  Iroquois  and  the  Seneca  belii'ved  thai  the  |M'rson- 
alily  was  different  from  the  flesh  of  the  body. 

■32.5.  This  term  with  the  sutlix  -r/oira  signifies.  "  (Jreat  Whirlwind  or  Cy- 
clone," and  is  here  used  to  awe  the  (Jenon.sgwa  or  Stone  Coat  kidnaper. 

320.  This  is  the  plural,  or  rjitber  clislributive  plural,  form  tb.it  is  added  i<> 
the  iioun  Cenoiisgwa,  making  it  signify  "all  kinds  of  Sloiie  Coats." 

.327.  The  meaning  of  this  title  is  "Thunder.  His  Son  and  bis  tJrandnioiher.  ' 

32S.  This  title  means  "He,  the  Chief,  and  Flint." 

32i).  These  two  words  signify  "  At   the  high  rock." 

330.  He  spears  fish. 

,331.  Turtle. 


808  SENECA  FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

3.32.  The  meanings  of  the  names  of  these  ten  sons  of  the  Chief  who  marriecl 
Hongak,  the  Wild  Goose  woman,  are,  in  their  order,  as  follows:  (a)  lied- 
headed ;  (h)  Long-headed;  (c)  Long-billed;  (d)  Long-mandihled ;  (e)  Long- 
footed;  (/)  Bow-legged;  (</)  Long-clawed;  (h)  Large-clawed;  (i)  Fat-headed; 
and  (7)  Flint.  With  the  possible  exception  of  the  last,  these  names  are  not 
Inappropriate  for  goslings. 

333.  The  Dagwanoenyent  is  the  Cyclone  or  Whirlwind  which  is  here  repre- 
sented as  striking  the  vault  of  the  sky  with  a  crash,  as  the  sky  was  regarded 
as  a  solid  body. 

334.  This  whirlwind  of  snakes  is  a  weird  conception,  like  some  other  inci- 
dents of  the  story. 

335.  These  two  native  terms  signify,  respectively,  "At  the  deep  lake  "  and 
"  There  where  it  has  passed  through  the  earth."  The  last  meaning  Is  that  the 
water  is  so  deep  that  it  protrudes  on  the  other  side  of  the  earth. 

336.  Blue  Jay  people. 

337.  "At  the  Mountains." 

338.  Partridge. 

330.  This  is  not  a   Seneca  word. 

340.  Mosquito. 

341.  "  Having  roots  "  and  "  He  who  plants." 

341a.  In  the  Ody.ssey  Od.v.sseus  constructed  his  dwelling  place  in  a  similar 
way  and  place. 

342.  This  is  a  name  of  Winter="  He,  the  Cold." 

342a.  This  name  signifies,  "They  (fem.)  are  clouds  going  about  from  ]]lace 
to  place." 

343.  This  trail  is  the  dramatizing  of  the  sun's  rays  in  the  morning  or  in  the 
evening  passing  through  broken  clouds  and  casting  ra.vs  and  shadows  across 
the  sky.  An  illusion  arising  from  regarding  what  is  visible  as  having  a  solid 
surface. 

344.  One  of  Okteondon's  men  had  just  paid  the  penalty  of  disobedience  of 
liis  leader's  order. 

345.  This  name  seems  to  mean  "He  has  lost  his  leggings."  Hois'liii'tori'ni' 
is  the  correct  form. 

340.  This  is  the  name  of  a  large  bird  which  soars  so  high  that  it  has  won  the 
name  "  pertaining  to  the  clouds." 

347.  This  is  evidently  reminiscent  of  an  earlier  age  when  human  pelts  were 
regarded  as  trophies  of  cannibal  hunters. 

348.  The  Seneca  terms  signify,  "  Human  beings,  they,  both  men  and  women, 
eat,"  i.  e.,  both  juen  and  women  were  cannibals. 

349.  This  method  of  bringing  dry  bones  to  life  again,  so  frequent  in  these 
stories,  is  not.  of  course,  peculiar  to  the  Seneca. 

.3.50.  Blood  and  the  color  red  appear  to  be  signs  of  ill  omen  in  the  belief  of  the 
early  story-tellers. 

351.  The  metho<l  of  the  dream  testing  is  virtually  identical  with  that  In 
legend  No.  70,  even  to  the  words  used. 

.352.  This  method  of  destroying  the  lodges  of  vanquished  sorcerers  is  fre- 
(|uently  employed  in  the.se  tales. 

353.  "  He  whose  body  is  bright  "  and  "  Thousand-legged  worm." 

3.54.  This  word  signities  "  He  who  tortures  them."  According  to  the  following 
line  he  belonged  to  the  Toad  people. 

3.55.  Here  there  is  implied  a  mythic  reference  in  the  u.se  of  the  number  7. 

3.56.  Blue  Jay. 
357.  Crow. 


I 


NOTES  809 

3."S.  The  superheated  tllnt  hidLre  to  (leslmy  evil-iiiiiiilrd  wiziirds  liy  sume 
lieri)  is  11  (■(luiiiu)ii  device  in  these  stories. 

3r)9.  This  native  term  is  very  hroad  in  its  extension,  as  it  includes  tlie  .Man- 
Beings  of  the  first  eosruie  period,  the  first  peojile,  llie  anrienis,  as  well  as  man- 
kind of  the  last  cosmic  period  of  these  tales. 

360.  This  statement  that  blood  and  iiain  were  jiiven  tlie  bocly  for  its  pro- 
tection is  singular,  to  saj-  the  least. 

8()1.  Tins  story  resembles  No.  11,  "The  SnaUe  with  Two  H<'ads,"  in  some 
of  its  details. 

3C2.   Itaccoon. 

3G3.  Deer. 

3(54.  The  Great   Heads  were  the  Datrwanoenyent. 

3G5.  The  Arrow. 

3(l(i.  This  term  signifies  "  I'eople  of  tlie  Land  of  Heeds."  It  is  not  at  all 
certain  that  the  name  applied  to  any  place  in  the  southland,  for  the  mod«Mn 
Iroquois  ajiply  it  to  certain  people'romin;;  from  ()non'ho";;\va"^'e'  near  I!in;rh:im- 
ton,  N.  Y. 

3G7.  The  ItouO. 

308.  These  two  words  signify  "'Cherokee';  tliere  they  dwi'U."  Th.'it  is.  ii 
was  the  country  of  the  (^herokee. 

369.  Tlie  words  "  Ne  Honoiihsot  "  signify  "the  lodgi'  ti'naiil,"  hut  "  Miidcklia 
Gaahgwa  "  signify  "the  sun."  i.  e.,  "Diurnal  It-()rb-of-Ligln." 

370.  This  is  an  official  title;  it  denotes  '"  tlie  cliiefi'ss  "  ;  that  is.  the  woman 
cliief,  who  is  such  hy  election,  and  not  by  being  a  wife  of  a  chief. 

371.  This  conception  of  .i  river  of  lan<l  is  picturesfpie,  to  say  the  least. 
.■i7L'.  'I'liis  is  a  protest  a.gainst  prevalent  cannibalism. 

373.  Ila'degaun'dage',  i.  e..  ".Ml  kinds  of  trees,"  .•aid  the  Dwarf  Man.  re- 
sjiectively. 

374.  •  Slie,  the  I'roud  One." 

375.  This  story  is  identical  with  one  pulilished  hy  l.alilau  in  liis  "  Moeurs, 
etc." 

37t!.   'I'hunder  or  the  'I'liuiuler  .Man-l!eiiig. 

377.  'I'liis  is  the  statement  of  an  early  form  of  antlii'opic  paiihenogenesis  ;  its 
enduring  implication  is  that  air  (wiml) — that  is.  breath — is  the  source  of  life. 
In  later  development  it  becomes  an  imniaculate  conception. 

378.  The  Wind  Man-IJeing  and  Winter  Man-Being. 

37!).  The  use  of  the  epithet  "  cannibal  "  is  justified  only  by  the  thouglit  thai 
persons  are  killed  to  be  eaten:  a  natural  inference  to  cannibalistic  iieoples. 

380.  The  name  is  not  easily  translatable;  it  was  probably  ]iartly  misun- 
derstood. 

381.  .\  Fishhawk. 

38'J  Flint-worker  or  Flint-maker,  i.  e..  Arrow-head-maker. 

383.  Net-Maker. 

384.  He.  the  Kuiiuch. 

385.  Corn  soup. 

380.  The  Thunderers^^They  whose  voices  go  about. 

3.87.  Crow  iind   "The  Ollu'r  Side."  soinelimes  l.efl-handed. 

388.  Cyclone  and  .Meteor. 

389.  This  is  the  descriptive  epithet  applied  to  a  dark  or  blai'k  cyclonic  winil 
cloud. 

390.  A   Hawk. 

391.  A   cloud  or  fog. 

39'2.  The  Great  Blue  Lizard,  a  mythic  being. 


810  SENECA   FICTION,   LEGENDS,   AND   MYTHS 

393.  The  Mother  or  Eldest  Wuiuiin  of  the  Wliirhvind  People  and  She,  the 
Stone  Coat. 

394.  This  is  a  very  good  definition  of  faith. 

395.  "  The  Lake  Where  the  Stone  Giants  Lie  Buried." 
390.  This  is  the  usual  description. 

397.  Tlie  Great  Head  is  only  another  name  of  Dagwanoenyent,  who  is  the 
Tornado  or  Cyclone. 

398.  This  particular  method  of  raising  the  dead  is  common  to  a  large  number 
of  other  storie.s.  They  differ  only  in  minor  details;  in  this  a  number  of  trees 
is  mentioned,  while  in  other  stories  only  a  single  tree  is  mentioned. 

399.  These  two  words  together  signify  "He  eats  human  beings  as  a  habit;  " 
i.  e.,  he  is  a  cannibal. 

400.  This  name  is  sometimes  applied  to  a  person  who  after  being  in  a  long 
swoon  regains  consciousness. 

401.  This  refers  to  the  grinding  of  the  rocks  pnd  stones  by  the  force  of 
cyclonic  winds. 

402.  This  signifies  "  the  small  dose."  It  is  the  name  of  a  famous  medicine, 
and  It  is  so  called  because  only  a  very  small  do.se  is  required.  Erroneously 
it  has  been  commonly  rendered  "the  small  water." 

41)3.  The  term  hochinagen  is  the  name  commonly  applied  to  the  native  healer 
and  exorcist. 

404.  A  maid  or  woman  dm-ing  the  period  of  her  catamenia  became  sacred 
or  taboo  to  all  men  and  111  persons ;  it  was  therefore  dangerous  to  have  her 
around  ;  her  sacredness  or  taboo  was  infectious. 

405.  This  is  an  abbreviated  form  of  the  name  Ganya'gwai'he'gowa,  the 
great  monster-bear. 

406.  This  denotes  the  spike  of  a  flowering  plant. 

407.  This  was  an  underhandeil  method  of  ascertaining  whether  a  person  lying 
near  a  tire  was  sound  asleep  or  not;  it  was  practiced  chiefly  b.v  wicked  persons 
in  order  to  injure  otiier  persfins. 

408.  These  perils  barring  a  path  are  employed  in  a  number  of  other  storie.s. 
The  same  monsters  are  not  always  mentioned,  but  their  conunon  provenance 
seems  to  be  indicated,  nevertheless. 

409.  This  human  skin  fia.ved  off  whole  is  an  example  of  the  methods  of  tor- 
ture practiced  by  the  ancestors  of  the  story  tellers.  It  was  believed  that  wizards 
and  sorcerers  could  remove  the  flesh-body  from  the  skin  without  destroying 
the  life  of  the  victim,  which  then  was  supposed  to  animate  the  empty  skin. 
Tliese  skins  retained  the  powers  of  the  body  and  were  usu.illy  called  "a  pouch." 
This  retaining  of  life  b.v  these  skins,  tlayed  whole,  is  mentioned  in  the  Odyssey 
of  Homer,  where  he  speaks  of  the  slaughter  of  the  coves  of  the  Sun.  In  the 
native  conceiition  this  was  regarded  as  a  refined  si>ecies  of  slavery. 

410.  It  was  customary  in  some  families  making  pretensions  to  sorcery  to  con- 
coal  the  child  who  liad  been  born  with  a  caul.  This  was  done  in  such  manner 
that  no  one  other  than  one  of  the  nearest  of  the  child's  kin  should  be  charged 
with  the  wardship  of  the  hidden  child,  and  so  should  have  access  exclusively  to 
the  initiate.  One  of  the  nieatis  employed  in  shielding  the  initiate  from  the  view 
of  other  per.sons  was  to  strew  carefully  about  the  place  of  concealment  cat-tail 
flag  down  in  such  wise  that  any  disjilacement  of  it  would  indicate  intrusion  by 
some  unauthorized  person.  Thus  is  derived  the  epithet  "  down-fended,"  or 
"  warded  by  down."  Secondarily,  it  may  have  meant  "  mat-warded,"  because 
mats  were  in  some  instances  made  from  this  kind  of  flag.  (See  21st  Ann.  Rept. 
Bur.  Aiiicr.  Etiiii..  p.  127.) 

411.  This  is  literally  what  the  native  term  signifies. 


NOTES  811 

412.-  It  was  lielicved,  and  so  reported  tni<liliiiiially,  tlial  usually  the  arrow  of 
a  sorcerer  coulil  unt  he  reiiidved  I'rnni  a  uiaiiul  exi'epl  liy  Its  owner  wilhoiit 
injuriu};  the  arrow. 

■IKJ.  This  is  the  literal  lueaiiins  of  the  native  lerni,  and  was  the  name  of  a 
ceremonial  fea-st,  the  virtues  of  which  were  l)olieved  to  be  rooted  in  the  fact 
of  the  complete  consumption  of  the  food  olTertHl  liy  those  who  had  hi-en  invited 
to  eat  up  what  was  set  before  them.  It  was  periuissil)le  for  sucli  a  guest, 
however,  to  pay  another  to  eat  up  what  he  himself  or  herself  was  uot  able  to 
devour,  for  if  unythiu);  of  the  feast  sliould  be  left  over  the  purpose  of  the 
feast  would  be  defeated — by  the  malign  inlluence  of  hostile  sorcerers. 

414.  See   not*'   409. 

414a.  This  is  one  form  of  what  is  coinmonly  called  kiiiiiih-iiiic.  a  Icnii  wliiili 
slgnities  "a  mixture,"  although  it  is  also  a|)plied  to  the  .several  |ilaiits  which 
comnmnly  form  the  ingredients  in  the  mixture. 

41.">.  Tlip  native  term  here  rendered  "amulet"  has  a  ininiliei-  nf  uieaiungs. 
auolher  being  the  dried  spike  (if  a  plant — that  of  the  mullein,  tiir  exaiMjile. 
So  this-niiglit  be  translatetl  " 'I'he  Spike  Iliitei."  It  also  is  a|iplied  to  any  black 
object  or  toy. 

41G.  This  feature  ,,(  the  shrinking  path  is  inti>resting. 

417.  The  reiaU'ring  of  the  mitive  term  by  "owls"  is  literal,  but  the  word 
"owl"  is  taken  in  the  .sense  of  any  nonile.script  bird  of  ill  omen. 

418.  The  Sene<'a  for  this  name  is  lliill,-irr'"(l<i(l(  i/(""'i'r.  i.  e.,  "He,  the  I'.urnt 
Belly,  Small."     Otherwise,  "Small  Mr.  Kurnt  P.elly." 

419.  It  was  a  common  belief  among  the  Seneca  and  the  other  Iroquoian  peo- 
ple that  a  sorcerer  was  usually  aw.ire  of  what  another  was  doing,  even  though 
they  miglit  dwell  f.ir  apart. 

420.  This  returning  of  human  lite  to  the  body  of  a  simulated  animal  is  also 
quite  common  m  stories  recounting  the  fanciful  exploits  of  sorcerers. 

421.  This  is  the  name  of  a  woman  who  belonged  to  a  class  of  ferocious  women 
who  gained  notoriety  by  seeking  to  destroy  their  son.s-in-law  on  their  wedding 
nights.  This  name  denotes  the  habit  of  these  women  of  c.-isting  themselves 
into  the  lire  as  a  cliallenge.  The  name  siginlies,  "  She  who  is  burned  in  many 
places." 

422.  See  note  410.    This  is  the  ma.sculine  form  of  the  Seneca  expression. 
42.'?.  This  is  the  indefinite  form  of  the  expression  cited  in  the  preceding  note. 
424.  This  is  the  Seneca  form  of  the  name  for  a  human  skin,  flayed  off  whole, 

which  was  made  to  serve  as  a  warder  for  some  noted  sorcerer  or  .sorceres.s. 
See  note  409. 

42.">.  This  method  nf  heating  and  hardening  wooden  instruments  w.-is  emjiloyed 
by   riysses.     See  Homer's  Odyssey. 

420.  This  expression  is  the  nearest  apiiroximation  in  .sense  to  the  native  ti-rm 
which  signilies,  literally,  "  He  who  has  achieved  or  perfected  our  faculties." 

427.  This  description  recalls  the  Homeric  contests  for  prizes  between  the 
Greek  warriors  before  Troy. 

428.  The  following  recital  of  the  obstacles  along  this  mysterious  jiath,  oc- 
curring i7i  sliglitly  varying  versions  elsewlu>re.  reminds  one  of  the  sevi'u  guarded 
pas.sageways  along  the  jiath  of  Ishtar's  descent  to  the  regions  of  the  dead. 

429.  The  term  remlered  "mother"  detiotes  in  the  vernacular  the  "matron" 
or  head  woman,  although  "motlier"  is  better. 

4:!0.  The  Partridge. 

431.  The  Seneca  name  Is  O'.so'on(t).    The  "  t  "  sound  is  obsolescent. 

4.32.  These  are  offerings  to  the  genii  of  the  place. 

433.  He  is  the  last  remaining  person. 


812  SENECA    FICTION,    LEGENDS,    AND    MYTHS 

434.  This  is  the  method  formerly  used  to  "  guess "  the  meaning  of  one's 
dream. 

435.  It  will  be  noted  that  most  of  the  proper  names  in  this  story  indicate  ref- 
erence to  some  jirocess  or  oh.iect  of  nature. 

436.  This  rising  and  falling  of  the  sl^y  appears  as  an  incident  in  a  number  of 
other  tales  of  this  character. 

437.  This  term  is  used  as  both  noun  and  adjective ;  here  it  is  used  as  a  noun ; 
it  signifle.s,  "  What  customarily  uses  its  orenda  or  magic  power  destructively." 

438.  This  term  refers  to  the  Wind  God  whose  activities  earned  for  him  the 
epithet,   "  Evil-minded." 

439.  This  form  of  the  generic  noun  on'tiirr'  signifies  "The  male  Man-Being." 

440.  This  address  is  made  as  a  part  of  the  ceremonies  at  tlie  harvest  festival, 
commonly  called  the  "  Green  Corn  dance."  In  this  exiu-ession  the  word  "  green  " 
stands  for  "  new,"  i.  e.,  newly  harvested  corn. 

441.  This  woman  in  the  original  story  Is  llother  Earth.  Here  she  has  become 
the  representative  of  the  expression  of  Mother  Earth — the  offspring  of  her  life- 
giving  powers. 

44i.  This  appears  to  be  a  sort  of  parable  teaching  the  virtue  of  gratefulness 
for  what  one  receives  of  the  bounties  of  nature  on  earth. 

443.  The  evil  of  one  man  is  visited  on  the  members  of  the  community  to  which 
he  belongs ;  this  represents  the  method  of  avenging  a  wrong  by  the  early  Iro- 
quoian  people. 

444.  This  old  woman  was  the  matron  of  the  family,  or  ohwachira. 

445.  This  is  the  Winter  God,  but  here  he  is  called  "  He  who  is  robed  in  flint." 

446.  This  has  reference  to  the  dances  of  the  women  and  maids  in  which  they 
dramatize  the  waving  of  the  .stalks  of  .standing  corn. 

447.  The  expression  "You  two  cousins"  denotes  the  two  symbolic  sides  of 
the  tribe — the  two  phratries,  or.  rather,  sisterhoods,  of  clans. 

448.  It  will  be  noted  that  the  framework  of  this  story  is  in  some  respects 
exactly  like  that  of  the  next  preceding. 

449.  This  is  a  tine  example  of  the  native  regard  for  all  living  things ;  even 
the  plants  tind  a  place  In  their  sympathy. 

450.  This  stor.v  has  a  number  of  interesting  weather  signs. 

450a.  This  is  a  vei-y  interesting  statement,  because  it  connects  this  m.vthic 
piircupine  with  Sunlight.  The  porcu]iine,  the  mythic  being,  is  usually  connected 
with  sunlight  in  Americ-in  mylhs.  esiiecinlly  the  quivering  or  dancing  spring 
sunlight. 

451.  This  is  the  act  of  exorcism  by  blowing  up  the  evil  persons. 

452.  The  native  wor<l  literally  means,  "  One — it  one's  word  uses  to  make,"  i.  e., 
"One  uses  it  to  make  one's  word";  briefly,  it  is  one's  pledge,  the  token  of 
a  vow. 

453.  The  imitative  sounds  or  utterances  which  certain  activities  were  thought 
to  emit  are  no  small  part  of  the  interest  these  stories  have  for  the  students  of 
the  origin  of  words  and  sentences.  The  recorder  was  at  all  times  careful  to 
write  down  these  very  naive  but  most  expressive  sounds. 

454.  The  remainder  of  this  incident  belongs  to  the  story  of  S'hodieonskon ; 
this  version,  however,  is  much  longer. 

455.  This  circumstance  gave  rise  to  the  name  of  this  hero,  llahadodagwafha, 
i.  e..  "  He  who  pulls  out  the  branch  customarily." 

456.  This  name  signifies  "  Standing  Rock  "  or  "  Pro.iecting  Rock." 

457.  This  native  word  is  \isually  rendered  variously  in  po]]ular  translations 
as   "  Stone  Coat,"   "  Stone   Shirt,"   "  Stone   Giant,"   "  Giant,"   "  Monster  Man." 


I 


NOTES.  813 

Its  real  siimificancp  iiiul  rorrocr  IrMiislatiim  luis  liccii  fiiveii  in  tlif  iiilrd.ludion 

to    tlU'SP   StDl'U'S. 

458.  As  explained  in  llie  iMtnidiK-liiin,  ttiis  roiirosoiits  pnctio  license,  1.  «.,  the 
use  of  the  wnril  for  Hint  or  <  liert  for  ice. 

4f)9.  Tlie  foreijoins  ivcital  details  certain  c-nstonis  pertaiidni;  to  anihassadors 
to  hostile  tribes,  which  are  of  marked  interest. 

•1(1(1.  Tlie  matter  of  this  s.vinliol  is  fiill.v  larrii'd  nut  in  the  dedicatnr.v  lanL'ini;re 
of  tile  League  or  Kedpralioii  of  the  Irocpiois. 

4t;i.  Till'  following  incident  on  the  island  is  foiinil  in  other  stories,  especially 
in  that  of  llayanoweh. 

4(i'_'.  This  incident  shows  that  the  story-tellers  believed  that  the  so-called 
dead  were  really  not  dead,  and  that  these  well  knew  what  was  tran.spirinj; 
on  earth  anionsr  inankind. 

4(>.S.  This  is  the  psycholo^rical  counterpart  of  the  faiiiiliar  "  l''ear  not  "  of  the 
Sacred  Scriptures. 

4(i4.  This  is  the  slavery  or  servitude  iin|ioseil  by  the  evil  use  of  oren<la  (or 
mafjic  power)  by  a  hostile  person;  in  its  original  sense  tlu'  English  "spell- 
bound "  hud  this  siiiuitication. 


IXDEX 


Page 

AiK,  wulklns  on -Hi) 

Al-GuNyiiAN  God  uf  Winteh (il 

AttM.sTKoMi,    John,    Seni'ca    Inform- 
ant    50,  T)!' 

Auiiow — 

emboddod  In  body,  cxlraction  cif_  nr, 
leaf   used   in    withdrawing   from 

body 'i'!") 

mayic .'ilT 

Ball.  i;amk — 

(■liiillonso   to  pla.v -.'J  1 

won  l»y  doj;  dri'ssod  :is  man -'Ar* 

KALLOr,    I'ltoF.    lIuWAIU)    M. — 

l)ibliot;rapliie    rosear-cli I'l 

preparation    of    List    of    Worlis 

Uelating  to  Hawaii l!f» 

Bark,      used      to      prevent      nialiinj; 

trael<s 12L'2 

Ba.ssw(K)L>  uakk,  rope  made  from 1  L'L* 

Bkak-- 

bones  of,  to  ;;ive  nia«lc  power.-  r>4.'i 

liilled  l)y  sbootins  in  forefoot--  .'iJ:! 

nurses  and  cares  for  lioy 14;; 

Beau  .so.\i;.s  and  danck.s.  origin  of (;.").s 

Blaiis — 

guaniinu  patliway  to  eliestnuts-  ."()."» 

used   to   convey   boy L>,S4 

Beavkks,     called     upon     to     destroy 

enrany i:.'(l 

Behuiks.  mafiic  appearance  of lif2 

BiKD.   converted   into   ni;in ISl 

Black  Chief,  Seneca  informant .">L* 

Boas,    I)ii,    Kuanz.    special    research 

work   l)y !),  24 

Body,  strokluK  of.  In  Kreeilni; O.'J] 

Bone,  solid,  forming  ribs "J.W 

Bones — 

converted  into  l>lrrls  ^, 4S7 

reassembled  and  liroUK'ht  to  life-  211'. 

L'Ui,  217,  :i!is,  404,  4SS,  400.  r,si; 

Bov— 

adopted   by  bear :ir,7 

becomes    fastened     to     back     of 

monster 4.S1 

rescued   from   bear ;tOO 

Blffalo  .Man.  side  composed  of  one 

rib 101 

BlFFALoics,    body    kilb  d    but    spirit 

unharmed ln2 

Bt'RiAL,   ancient   and    modern    meth- 
ods    439 

Cannibal,   woman   becoines,  by    tast- 
ing her  own  blood 404 


rage 

Canoe — 

controlled   by   songs 146 

ireation    of .")08 

iliminvitive,    swallowing  of .5t!0 

liiivlnj;   magic    power 247.  407 

iiia;iically  enlarging  for  use .'Ui2 

making    of lO.S 

in-opelled    by    wild    gei'iie-   70(;.  712,  713 

sailing  through  the  air 22.'),  301 

wiiite  lliiil.  power  to  restore  life  304 

CiiESTNtT  riDDiNi;.  making  of IS.S 

Chestnuts — 

guiirded   by  wizards 201 

journey  to  secure 1,50,  207,  21i> 

usi.  of,  as  fooil 14.S,  187.  li)9,  .'■)03 

Chief,  uoju.d.  ih'isin  in  eoumil.  _   332-341 

Con  \ 

ac(|uisltion    of (>42 

eiiornious  size 4.S1 

legend  of  origin  of (i43 

niysti'rious  appearance  of t>37.  (»40 

si>ngs  and  dances 049 

white,   origin   of 052 

Cf)it.v  DANCES,  ceremony  of 047 

Corn   .MEAL,   made  witli  one  blow  of 

pestle 399 

CoKN  Woman.  <leelaratlou  of 

CofNCIL,    Wf)Ul,D — 

ehit'f  chosen  for  all  peoples 

held  at  llroken  Land 

Invitation  to  attend 33C, 

CotTNciL  KiitE.  uncovering  and  cover- 
ing    of 541 

CitEATION    MYTHS 

analysis   of 54 

teachings   of 62 

CtllTIN.    .lEltE.MIAII 

tii'ld    notes    unrevised    anil     un- 

I'diled 49 

b'gends  and  m.vths.  analysis  of-  52 
myths     and      tales,     conclusions 

concerning 53 

records  m.-nle  by 48 

ri'ference  to  work  of 51 

Cf.SHiNo,    FiiANK    Hamilton,    refer- 

enei'  to  work  of 51 

I>A(;WANOENYENT.         Sri-        Wllirlwiud 

I'i'ople. 

liANcES.  Green   Corn 257 

Deeii.  hunting  of 0.")6 

I'EEIl.    WHITE — 

l)orrowlng   coat   of 207 

carries  boy  away  on  antlers 354 

815 


04!> 


332-341 
323 


816 


INDEX 


Page 

Deity,  conception  of 62 

Densmoue,  Miss  Frances — 

rcscarrhi'S   in   Indian   music 10 

special    researches 27 

DjooEux.     .Sec  Dwaif  People. 

Dog — 

acts   as    guide 121 

great  power  given  to  owner  of-  236 

magic 158 

restored  to  life 473 

Stone    Coat's 178 

trails  scent  in  air 470 

turns   to    stone 472 

wins  ball  game  dressed  as  man_  235 

wins  foot  race  dressed  as  man--  233 

Dogs — 

attempt   to    save   master   liy   ob- 
structing •  pursuer 293 

convey  boys  on  journey 292 

magic  power  of 193 

restored  to  lite 221 

Doi-L.  use  of 77 

DoxEHOO,  Dk.   Georiie  p.,   investis-'a- 

tions  of  the  tribes  of  Pennsylvania  10 

Doorway — 

separate 118 

use  of 75 

"  DOWX-FENDED  "    TIROIN 510 

Dream — 

chief  told  of  powerful  enemy  to 

be   met 346 

warning  against  very  large  man  344 

warning  to  attat'k  enemy 345 

warning    (o    change    course    on 

warpath 342 

Dream    word,   guessing  of 597 

Dreams,  testing  magic  power 394-398 

Duck,  transformation  into SO 

Ducks — 

eyes  used  as  dice 354 

used  to  paddle  canoe 21S,  221.  222 

Ddxn,  J.  P. — 

mentioned 2s 

studies  of  tribes  of  Middle  West  10 

Dwarf  I'eopi.e,   mentioned 61 

Eagle — 

black,  killing  of 318 

guard  of  chestnut  tree 1.50 

shooting  of,  to  secure  wife 141 

Earth — 

creation  myth 400 

journey  to  end  of 238 

•' E.iT-Ai.L-up  "    feast 515 

Ethnologic  research — 

.1.   P.   Ailams 13 

Donald  Heauregard 13 

K.   M.   Chapman 13 

Dr.  .1.  Walter  Fewkes 14 

Miss  Alice  C.  Fletcher 22 

Nathan   Goldsmith 13 

John  P.  Harrington l;i 

Prof.    Junius   Henderson 13 

J.   N.   B.  Hewitt 20 

F.  W.  Hodge 10 

Nell  M.  Judd 13 


Page 

Ethnologic    Keseabch — Continued. 

Francis   La   Flesche 22 

Dr.   Truman   Michelson 20 

James  Mooney 14 

Sylvanus  G.  Morle.v 13 

Mrs.   Frances  S.  Nichols,  assist- 
ant   10 

Jesse  L.  Nusbaum 13 

Dr.  I'aul  Radin 21 

Prof.   R.   W.   Robbins 13 

Mrs.  M.   C.   Stevenson 19 

Dr.  John  R.   Swanton 18 

Feast,   "  eat-all-up  " 515 

Feather — 

magic 174 

magic    use    of 120 

pigeon,  used  to  baffle  pursuer--  272 

portent  of  evil 103 

used  to  magically  create  barrier 

to   i>ursuer 674 

Feathers,    turkey 277 

Fetish — 

advice  by 382,  384 

advises    how    to    kill    enemy    in 

lodge 379,  381 

given  to  boy  to  overcome  enemy.  379 

made  from  bone  of  monster 501 

used  to  save  life 467 

Fewkes,  Dr.  J.  Walter — 

ethnologic   research    by 14 

mentioned 9 

Finger,   magic — 

potency  of,  in  killing  game 122,  123 

returned  to  owner 153 

used  as  guide 110,  440 

used  to  kill  game 266 

Fire — 

guest's    side   of 561 

made  from  handful  of  wood--   392,  .393 

opposite  sides  occupied 586 

FiREDK.Kiiixs,    guarding   pathway    to 

magic    chestnuts 506 

Fireplace,     separates     families     in 

lodge 518 

Fish — 

conversion  into 191 

speared  with   leg 283 

swallows    boy 182 

woman    transformed    into 538 

Fishhook,    used    in     capturing    ca- 
noe  78,  223,  713 

Fletcher,   Miss   Alice   C. — 

ctlinologic    research    by 22 

special   work   liy 9 

Flint,  red-hot,  lodge  turned  iuto_-  186, 

'227 

Flood,  legend  of 636 

Flute,    magic 401 

Foot  race — • 

arrangements   for 496 

between   Seneca  and  Stone  Coat  439 

challenge    to 233 

heads   wagered    c-n 351,  585 

preparation    for 323 

won  by  dog  dressed  as  man 233 


INDEX 


817 


Pago 

Fox,  Andkew,  Senoia   Infoniiaiit 52 

Frachtkxhkuc:.    Dit.    I.Ei)    .1.,    special 

researches  Uy 26 

Oame 

•      hunter     should     not     oat     first 

killed 201 

killed    by   blind   man 549 

Games,    heads    wa^ored    on    results 

of 352,  353,  373,  4-17,  449 

cexesis  myth  of  the  IitoQcois,  ex- 

pluuatlon 63 

GEXONst:\VA.     Sfr  Stone  Coats. 
Gehaiiii,   Wii.mam    U.,   studies  of  AI- 

gouquiaii    names 10 

Gill,  Pe  Laxc-et,  Illustration  work-         30 

God  of  i,ih-E,  luiutluued 61 

God    of    WiXTEit,    suow    plitured    as 

llviu;;  botiy  of  man  formed  by 01 

Gods  axu  deities,  Iroquois -  6!) 

GUHLEY,  J.  G..  editorial  work  by 29 

Uaiks,   iudicating  number  of  people 

who    die 625 

Hai.ftowx,  Tuimax,  Seuera  inform- 
ant   50 

Hauiiixc;tox,       .Ioiix       I'.,       studies 

among  Mohave  Indians 10.  29 

Hawaii,  list  of  works  relating'  to 29 

Headdue.ss,  with   animated   duck 203 

Heart,  siiueezlng  of.  to  overcome  ad- 
versary   335.  350 

Hewitt.   Mi.ss   Gauolixe   G.   C.   as- 
sistant in  Iranslatlng  manuscript.  49 
llEwirr,  .1.   N.    P.. — 

ethnologic    research    by 20 

mentioned 9 

Hixdx       Sn-  Thunder  People. 
HoucE.  F,   W. — 

aiknowleilgment     of     assistance 

rendered  by 71 

administrative  work 10 

ellinoloKic  research  by 11 

Ethnoloaisl-in-charL'e,         m  e  n  - 

tloned 9 

HORX.    thrown    in    path    to    obstruct 

runner 184,  234,  351 

HORXED     KXAKE,     killing    Of 199 

iLLtsTR.vrioxs,  work  on 31 

Indian,  creation   of 109 

IROQI'OIS  — 

God   of   Winter 61 

gods  and  deities  of 69 

jAron.   IIexkv.  Seneca    Informant 52 

JiMEsoN      Zacuauiah,     Scseca     in- 
formant   52 

JoHNNv-JoUN,  ABR.VBAM,  Scneca  in- 
formant  ' 52 

La   Fi.kschk.   Francis — 

etlinologic  research  by 22 

mentioned 0 

special  work  by 9 

LANOtACEs.  creation  of  difTerent 53S 

Leagie  of  the  iKogfotS 

clans   of    the    Seneca    belonging 

to 44 

"Great  Black   Doorway" 43 

94615°— 18 52 


Page 

I.earv,  Miss  Ella,  librarian ."1 

I,ei;i:nd — 

dertnltlon    of 06 

sacred 06 

I.EOEXDs,  orislu  of '  6Sl 

I.iHRARV.   improvement  of --  31 

1,11'K   iii;sToiti:i> 572 

Little.  Browx  &  Go.,  courtesy  of..  71 

r,ouiiE — 

destnicllon  of,  by  fire 417,445,755 

erection  of.  by  magic 214. 

349,  350,  392 

for   rece[>tion   of  dead 547 

turned    to  red-liot    Mint 205, 

398,  405,  409.  428 

I.OGAN,  PlIOEnE,  Seneca  informant 52 

l.oxi;   lyODoE,   turned  to  red-hot  fiint 

to  destroy  enemy 212 

Loox.  hearts  of  cannll)als  hidden  be- 
neath wings  of 1,30 

Man— 

body      divides,      following      two 

paths,  and  reunites 551 

creation    of 108 

diviiled    into   two   parts  and    re- 
stored   473 

flesh  torn  apart  and  Immediately 

healed 4S0 

flesh   turned   into  birds 324 

iK'ld  to  ground  by  tree  growing 

over  him 375 

legend  of  creation  of 413 

parts     reassi'iuble     after     being 

pulled  apart 345,346 

parts  reassemble,   kill    five  men, 

and  fall  apart  again 347 

purification    of.    befoi-e    visiting 

anotlier  tribe 42S 

restored  to  life 548 

resuscitation    of 275 

Manikin,   animated 200 

Maxikixs — 

set    up   in   trees  to   deceive  pur- 
suer    219 

use    of 259 

Marriaoe  dread — 

customary  offering,  20  loave.s.   747.  752 

offering   of 115. 

123.    124.    139.    100.    107.    108.  191. 

195.    190.    .377.    463,    544,    555.  741! 

preparation   of 751 

Mask,  used  in  curing  sick 305 

Master   of   Life.   iiicMtioncd 01 

Mattiiew.s,  Dr.  Washixgton,  refer- 

enic  to  work  of 51 

MEDiriNE — 

afiministered  by  bird 275 

for  bringing  dead   to  life 274 

small-dose 491 

used   to   kill  witch 555 

Miami  FRExrn   Dictioxauv,  work  on  29 
MiniELsnx.  Dr.  TarsiAX — 

ethnologic    research   by 20 

mentioned 9 


818 


IXDEX 


Pago 

14a 


Moccasins — 

conversion  into  owls 

left    in    lodge    to    deccivi'    hus- 
band         ^69 

magic   power    oi j.sa,  ^-i^ 

mentioned —        •^-  ' 

used   to  deceive  pursuer-   105, 119,  2 1 1 
Mole — 

resuscitates    boy 1*9.  l^" 

used  for  hiding  from  pursuer—       1S9 
used     to      convey      boy      under- 

gound S3, 13G.  150, 

205.  208,  216,  350,  356,  448,  486 
used     to     convey     boys     under- 
ground  

Moox,  man  cast  into 

MooxEY,   .Tames — 

ethnologic   research   by 

mentioned 

Moose,  aids  in  recovery  of  man 

MoDSE,  used  to  convey  boy 554 

MnRiE,  James  R.,  researches  in  eth- 
nology   

Mythology,  definition  of 

Myths — 

analysis   of "^'^ 

definition  of 6" 

fictitious   only   in   form 61 

O'Bail,  Solomon,  Seneca  informant-  52 

Owl — 

issues     from     bui-sted     heail     of 

20.- 

326 

of       663 

ij;u 

hunting  of 65f 


697 

14 
9 

282 


10 
60 


man 

man  converted  into 

Pigeon  soncs  and  dances, 
I'lGEON.  WHITE,  legend  of^ 
Pigeons,   wild. 


Pipe,    axim 


ATED 129, 134 


654 


YEAK, 


Seneca — Continued. 

defeated  by  Minqua  and   Mary- 
landers   in    1663 

defeated  by  Neuters  in  1651 

description    of 

French   influence   among 

history,    political 

location  of.  when  first  known 

location  previous  to  1651 

name,  origin  of 

plotting   to   destroy   French  set- 
tlements in  1652 

population,  estimate  of 

visit   to  Cheroliee 

war  against  Hurons  in  1639 

war     declared     against     Indians 
and  French  on  St.  Lawrence. 

Serpent,  man  converted  into 

Seven   Sisters — 

possessors  of  fohacco 

warfare  against 

S'HAGODiiowEQ.     See  Wind  People. 
Sii.vehheels,      Henry,      Seneca      in- 
formant  

Skin- 
animate. 


PoRcrpiNE  CLAN,  origin  of__ 

PlBLICiTIONS     ISSUED     DURIN 

list    of 

Radix.  Dr.   Pail — 

ethnologic   research   by 

mentioned 

Rattlesnakes,     guarding     pathway 

to    magic    chestnuts 

Religion,  ethnic  or  primitive 

Researches,  special — 

by  Dr.  Franz  Boas 

hy   Miss   Frances  Densmore 

hy  Dr.  Leo  J.  Frachtenberg 

Researches,  systematic 

Robe  spangled  with   himax   eyes, 

c-apture  of 

Rock,  forming  wall  across  coun- 
try   1"3.  -" 

Rod.  forked,  used  to  deflect  course 

of  enemies ^'*" 

Rod.  painted,  placed  across  path  to 
indicate  point  beyond  which  hunt- 
ing party  should  not  pass _-        695 

Seneca — 

adoption  of  conquered  tribes 47 

ambush  of  British  by,  in  1763_-  47 

defeat     of     Marquis     Denonville 

hy.   in   1687 

defeated  by  Gen.  Sullivan 
1779 


30 


21 

9 


505 


9 

SO 


47 


Page 

47 
46 
43 
47 
45 
43 
45 
44 

47 

48 

429 

46 

46 

S7 

82 
93 


111 


bringing  to  life ^23 


fawn,  used  as  fetish 

method  of  stretching  for  drying- 
smoked  to  prevent  return  of  life- 
woman'.s.  guarding  chestnut 

trees 

woman's,    guarding   pathway    to 

tobacco  

Skin    robe,   protection   against   pur- 


suers- 


151 
578 
259 

506 

83 

76 


116 

130 
22.S 
323 
112 

205 


449 


48 


Sktll,  stolen,  recovery  of 416 

Smoke-holes,  closing,  to  avoid  pes- 
tilence     

SXAKE 

black,  called  upon  for  assistance- 
enters  woman's  body 

man  converted  into 

woman  turns  into 

Spears,  shower  of 

Spider,   Great,  called  to  assistance 

of  hoy—- 130,426 

Spider's  web,  used  to  defeat  oppo- 
nent in  ball  game 

Spittle — 

rubbed  on  body  to  effect  cure.  403,  438 

rubbed  on  body  to  restore  flesh--       381. 

383,  386.  387 

SruiNi;,  inhabited  hy  a  monster 521 

Stevens,     Chief      Priest      Henry. 

Seneca  informant 

Stevenson,  Mrs.  M.  C. — 

ethnologic  research  by 

mentioned    

Stillwell.  Miss  Margaret  Bing- 
ham, work  on  Miami-French  Dic- 
tionary   

Stone — 

power  to  melt  ice 

used  to  magically  create  barrier 
to  pursuer 


50 


19 
9 


29 


1S5 


IXDEX 


819 


Stoxe  Coat —  Page 

assists  Spnpca  hunters 430 

(Uig  belonging  to ITS 

liKlit    witii 344 

liMn)Vniian    c(»nrt'Pt    of . 04 

killing  of.  withliasswo.ul  club_   330.  4;is 

niontioned 5t;4 

origin    of 64 

unalile  to  look  upwaril 440 

woman,    calls    beavers   uuU    eats 

them 438 

Stone  Coats — 

defeat    of liiil 

defeated  by  Hawenni.vo 441 

(lestro.ved  by  tire 445 

eiu'olinter  witll 0S3 

mentioni'd    (!1.  03,  IM,  05 

name  duo  to  false  etyuioloyy 03 

Stone  Oia\"TS.     fer  Stone  Coats. 

Sti'.mp.  man  i  onverti'd  into ;;71.  272 

Siirii>K.   attempted 22S 

Sin  imsuki)  back   bv  I'Oi.e 352 

SWA.NTON.    Ul{.    .TolI.N     K. 

rilniologic    researeh   l>y Is 

mentioned 9 

THAN-Ksr.iviNT..   address  of 032 

Tnf.M>En  rEori.E.  miMitloneil 01 

Titus,  (Jeobuk,  Senet-u  infornnint 52 

ToDArro — 

burnt'd    in    appeal    to    Thunder 

god 421 

burned   In  offering  made  to  pig- 
eons    oitr. 

burnod    with    invnration 5s;t 

cast  upon  (ire  as  ofTiTing 050,000 

desire  for.  by  skeleton  like  man  .M 

glva  as  pri'sent  for  medicine.-  4!I2 

journey  to  seeurt 5.sl 

magi<;il    use  of 483 

ofTi-red    as    Incense 004.005,083 

offered  in  thanksgiving 027 

pathway   lo.  guardeil S2 

preparation   of 213 

smoking,      while      listening      to 

story 744.  745 

used   lu    restoring   life 308 

Thai  I, — 

made  by   hacking  trees 3i'.4 

made  to  disappear 387 


Trke —                                                          Page 
binds   and   straightens   at    com- 
mand    301 

lioy  living  under  roots  of 389,  399 

magic  appearance  of 192 

man   ereateil    from   roots  of lOS 

origin  of  knots  on 448 

rtKits   grown   over   man Tii.') 

sinks  Into  the  earth 410 

staniling  on    breast  of  man 100 

used  to  bring  people  to  life l.'iS 

Tecees,   iie.mluck,  observation   of,  to 

ascertain    direction 451 

Tl  liKEV — 

boy  converted  into 280 

oil    of,   potency   in   healing 15!) 

TfiiKEV  SKIN,  robe  made  from 278 

TritTi.i:.  carries  woman  on  back 411 

Wai.tiiek,  IlENity,  assistant  to  illus- 
trator   31 

Wa.MI'I   M 

disgorging    of 07, 

132,   140,   143.  ISO.  208.  210,  220. 

227.  203.  205,  320,  408,  510.  755 

failure  to  inoduce 205 

making    of 210 

mention 158,  1.59 

unsuccessful  attempt  at  disgorg- 
ing   112 

used  as  peace  credentials 420 

Wami'I  M   BELT,  false,   used   to  bribe 

guard 507 

Wamitm  .sAsn,  sign  of  marriage 87 

War.  challenge  to 315 

W'ak  fosT  OF  ToUTiiiE.  mentioned 108 

Wkathkk.  signs  Indicating 057 

WliIHLwiND  F'Eopi.E.  mentioned 01 

White.  I'eteii.  Si-neca   Informant 52 

Wind  fioo,  Onondaga  name  for 07 

Wind  I'EOI'I-e,  mentioned 61 

WiNSniP,      CEor.r.E      Tauki:]!,      men- 
tioned     --.    -._    20 

WlNTKIt  <!ol).  .activities  of 01 

Wintek  Season,  personlllcation  of 03 

Woman — 

becomes  man-(^ater 232 

falls     Into     hole     and     through 

earth 410 

Woodcock's  eves,  usi'd  as  dice 200 

Would,  ni<;iiEit.  visit  to 252 

World,  trip  to  ascertain  size  of 450 


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