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THE  JOURNAL  OF 
AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE 

VOLUME  XXV 


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LAXC.\STF,R,  r.\.,  AND  NFAV  YORK 

Publi^eifjcti  for  €l}c  ^Imcrican  folk  Hove  J^ocicti^ 

C.  E.  STECHERT  «S:  (().,  Ae;i:NTS 

NKW  \()KK:   i.si-iS5  VVest  25x11  Street  PARIS:  vfi  ktic  i>i:  Kknnes 

LONDON:  DAVID  NUTT,  57.  59  Lost;  Acre 

LKIPZIG:  OTTO  1IAKKASS(  )\\TTZ.  Querstrasse.  14 

MDCCCCXII 


Copyright,  19 12  and  19 13 
By  the  AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE  SOCIETY 

All  rights  reserved 


I 

Y.Z5 

tOb.2 


Press  of 

The  New  Era  printing  coMPANy 

Lancaster.  Pa. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  XXV 

ARTICLES 

Pack 

Balladry  in  America.     H.  M.  Belden i 

On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology.     Robert  H.  Lowie 34 

Arapaho  Talcs.     H.  R.  Volh 43 

Pima  and  Papago  Legends.     Mary  L.  Nejt 51 

The  Happy  Hunting-Ground  of  the  Ten'a.     John  W.  Chapman 66 

Ainu  Folk-Lore.     Bronislas  Pilsudski 72 

Twenty-Third  Annual  Meeting  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society 87 

Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians.     Henriette  Rothschild  Kroeber 9S 

Bulu  Talcs  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa.     Adolph  N.  Krug 106 

Negro  Tales  from  Georgia 125 

Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South.     E.  C.  Perrow 137 

William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer.     Phillips  Barry,  A.M 156 

A  Texas  Version  of  "The  White  Captive."     Charles  Peabody 169 

Five  Old-Country  Ballads 171 

Brazilian  Songs.     Eleanor  Hague 1 79 

Ballads  from  Nova  Scotia,  Continued.     W.  Roy  Mackenzie 183 

Four  Mexican-Spanish  Fairy-Tales  from  Azqueltan,  Jalisco.     J.  Alden  Mason 191 

Stories  from  Tuxtepec,  Oaxaca.     Wm.  H.  Mechling 199 

Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore.     Franz  Boas 204 

Mexican  Folk-Songs.     Eleanor  Hague 261 

The  Play-Party.     Harriet  L.  Wedgwood j68 

Some  Aspects  of  Folk-Song.     Phillips  Barry,  A.M J74 

Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia.     James  Teit 287 

NOTES   AND   QUERIES 

Some  Hidatsa  and  Mandan  Talcs,  George  F.  Will,  93.  American  Ballads,  Phillips 
Barry,  A.M.,  188.  Two  Abnaki  Legends,  Helen  Keith  Frost.  188.  Maryland  and 
Virginia  F"olk-Lore,  .Mary  Walker  Finley  Speers,  284.  The  Death  of  Andrew  Lang. 
A.  A.  Goldenweiser,  372.  The  Nineteenth  International  Congress  of  Ainericani*its, 
1914,  A.  Hrdlicka,  Secretary,  373;   Notes  on   Mexican  Folk-Lore.  Franz  Boas.  374. 

Officers  and  Members  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society,  375. 

Index  to  Volume  XXV.  383. 


Ill 


THE  JOURNAL  OF 

AMERICAN  FOLK-LORK 

Vol.  XXV.  — JANUARY-MARCM.  1912  —  No.  XCV 


BALLADRY    L\    AMERICA' 

BY  H.   M.   BELDEX 

When  I  first  learned,  about  seven  years  ago,  that  genuine  old 
British  ballads  were  still  alive  in  the  hearts  and  on  the  tongues  of 
old-fashioned  folk  in  the  State  in  which  I  was  living,  I  hastened  with 
all  the  enthusiasm  of  the  novice  to  publish  a  plan-  for  the  systematic 
collection  and  comparison,  chiefly  through  the  students  in  our  schools 
and  colleges,  of  all  balladry  in  America.  I  knew  ver\'  little  of  the 
work  that  had  already  been  done  in  the  same  field,  or  of  the  controversy 
that  had  grown  up  concerning  the  nature  and  history  of  ballads;  I 
had,  indeed,  no  very  strict  notion  of  what  a  ballad  might  be;  but  it 
seemed  to  me  that  co-operative  collection  of  traditional  song  from  the 
mouths  of  the  people  would  do  more  than  anything  else  to  resolve  our 
doubts  as  to  the  origin  of  ballads,  their  special  character  if  they  had 
one,  their  relation  to  print,  to  social  conditions,  and  to  book  poetry; 
and  with  the  valor  of  ignorance  I  asserted  that  ten  years  might  sec  the 
whole  problem,  so  far  as  America  was  concerned,  cleared  up,  —  collec- 
tions completed  and  conclusions  drawn.  Naturally,  a  closer  acquaint- 
ance with  the  problem  chastened  my  presumption.  Seven  of  the  ten 
years  are  gone,  considerable  effort  has  been  expended,  and  there  are 
still  plenty  of  questions  unanswered.  I  recall  my  early  indiscretion 
here,  only  because  the  plan  still  seems  to  me  in  the  main  a  right  one. 
(\)nsideral)Ie  [jrogress  has  in  fact  been  made,  and  the  value  of  co- 
operative collection  has  been  demonstrated.  Our  Annual  Meeting 
seems  a  suitable  occasion  for  a  review  of  the  work  of  collectors  in 
America  since  the  completion  of  Child's  work,  with  such  inferences 
regarding  the  results  that  may  be  looked  f<>r  fiom  ilir  siu<l\  .1^  our 
progress  justifies. 

'  Tliis  paper  in  its  original  form  was  read  as  iIk*  Pr«"si(lrnt'sa<l<lrrs!i  at  lite  Aniuinl  .Mrrtinu 
of  the  American  Kolk-Lorc  Society  in  WashinRton.  nrcrn»l)rr  j8.  iqii.  As  here  ptiMte<l. 
however,  it  ha.s  Ijcon  carefully  revised  and  conHidoral)ly  supplemonte<l  by  Mr.  Phillip* 
Barry,  to  whom  the  aiitlu>r  is  indelited  for  mm  h  of  the  hihlioKrnphiml  matter  Iwith  iit  the 
text  and  in  the  notes. 

'"The  Study  of  Folk-Song  in  Americ.i."  .\/o</»-rw  I'hiloloRy,  ii.  pp.  57.}  IT. 

VOL.  XXV. — NO.  95. — I  I 


2  Joiir)ial  of  American  Folk-Lore 

BallacliN'.  in  the  wide  sense  of  the  lenn,  is  foiiiul  to  he  restricted  to 
no  one  part  of  America.  North  and  South,  East  and  West,  new  settle- 
ments and  old  communities,  populous  centres  and  sparsely  peopled 
regions,  seem  almost  equally  to  love  and  to  have  preserved  traditional 
popular  song.  I'erhaps  the  most  surprising  development  in  the  period 
under  review  is  the  amount  and  quality  of  traditional  balladry  found 
by  Mr.  Barry  in  the  New  England  and  Middle  States. ^  Nearly  four 
years  ago  he  printed  a  list  of  "Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic 
States"  that  he  had  collected.  It  contains  84  items,  28  of  w^hich  are 
forms  of  the  ballads  admitted  to  Child's  collection.  Doubtless  it  has 
been  very  much  increased  since  that  time;  indeed,  several  new  items 
have  since  been  made  public  in  the  Journal  and  elsewhere.  Mr.  Barry 
has  found  these  ballads  not  only  in  the  woods  and  remote  villages  of 
X'crmont  and  New  Hampshire,  where  one  might  expect  to  find  them, 
but  likewise  in  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and  close  to  the  shades  of 
Harvard  and  the  Boston  State  House.  Still  farther  up  the  coast 
("down,"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  say),  in  Nova  Scotia,  Professor  Macken- 
zie has  found  a  store  of  ancient  British  ballads,  of  which  he  has  printed 
some  interesting  specimens,  as  well  as  a  highly  significant  account  of 
the  status  of  ballad-singing  there  and  of  the  provenience  of  the  ballads. - 

No  less  favorable  to  the  perpetuation  of  ballads  are  conditions  in 
the  Southern  States.  In  Professor  Child's  time,  ballads  had  been 
reported  here  and  there  from  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas.  A  few 
from  the  Cumberland  Mountains  w'cre  published  in  the  year  1893;^ 
six  years  later,  two  "poor  buckra"  ballads  appeared  in  print ;^  and 
in  1904,  still  other  songs  and  ballads  of  the  mountain-folk  were  made 
known  to  the  world.''  In  the  following  year  a  writer  in  the  Berea 
Quarterly  called  attention  to  the  notable  prevalence*  of  ballad-singing 

1  p.  Barry,  "Some  Traditional  Songs,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xviii, 
pp.  49-59;  "Traditional  Ballads  in  New  England,"  Ibid.,  pp.  123-138,  191-214.  291-304; 
"King  John  and  the  Bishop,"  Ibid.,  vol.  xxi,  pp.  57-59;  "Folk-Music  in  America,"  Ibid., 
vol.  xxii,  pp.  72-81;  "Native  Balladry  in  America,"  Ibid.,  pp.  365-373;  "Irish  Come-all- 
ye's,"  Ibid.,  pp.  374-388;  "The  Origin  of  Folk-Melodies,"  Ibid.,  vol.  xxiii,  pp.  440-445; 
"A  Garland  of  Ballads,"  Ibid.,  pp.  446-454;  "The  Ballad  of  the  Broomfield  Hill,"  Ibid., 
vol.  xxiv,  pp.  14-15;  "Irish  Folk-Song,"  Ibid.,  pp.  332-344;  "New  Ballad  Texts,"  Ibid., 
PP-  345~35o;  "The  Ballad  of  Earl  Brand,"  Modern  Language  Notes,  vol.  xxiv,  no.  4,  pp. 
104-105. 

'  W.  R.  Mackenzie,  "Ballad-Singing  in  Nova  Scotia,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore, 
vol.  xxii,  pp.  372-381;  "Three  Ballads  from  Nova  Scotia"  (Child,  4,  46,  81),  Ibid.,  \ol. 
xxiii,  pp.  371-380. 

'  L.  W.  Edmunds,  "Songs  from  the  Cumberland  Mountains"  {Child,  85),  Ibid.,  vol.  vi, 
PP-  131-134- 

*  C.  E.  Means,  "A  Singular  Literary  Survival"  {Child,  12,  73).  The  Outlook,  Sept.  9, 
1899. 

'  E.  B.  Miles,  "Some  Real  American  Music"  (Child,  79),  Harper's  Magazine.  1904, 
pp.  118-123. 

•  "Mountain  Minstrelsy,"  The  Berea  Quarterly,  April,  1905,  pp.  5-13. 


Balladry  in  America  3 

in  Kentucky,  and  printed  three  typical  folk-songs.  Professor  Hcnnc- 
nian,  at  the  meeting  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  in  1906, 
read  eight  old  ballads  recorded  from  tradition  in  North  Carolina;  in 
1907  Professor  Kittredge  published  in  the  Journal  a  very  instructive 
sheaf  of  ballads  gathered  by  Miss  Pettit  in  Kentucky/  and  in  1908 
a  ballad  from  West  Virginia.^  In  the  next  year,  Miss  Bascom 
l)ublished  in  the  Journal  a  collection  of  "Ballads  and  Songs  of  North 
Carolina.""  In  the  >ear  1910,  J.  H.  Combs  published  a  fine  specimen 
of  Old  English  balladry  from  the  Cumberland  Mountains.  ^  Later, 
at  the  meeting  of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  came  the  an- 
nouncement by  Professor  Shearin  that  he  had  collected  in  that  region 
over  a  hundred  traditional  songs,  about  thirty  of  them  ballads  of 
British  origin.''  He  has  now  just  published  *  a  list  similar  to  that  of 
Mr.  Barry,  comprising  "337  titles,  exclusive  of  117  variants,"  of 
traditional  songs  gathered  in  central  and  eastern  Kentucky,  21  of  them 
being  versions  of  ballads  found  in  Child. 

In  the  Southwest,  Mr.  J.  A.  Lomax  has  devoted  himself  with  great 
success  to  the  collection  of  a  special  type  of  popular  song,  —  or,  rather, 
of  the  popular  song  of  a  special  occupation,  —  that  of  the  cowboy. 
His  "  CV)wboy  Songs,"  '^  published  last  year,  contains  many  of  the  pieces 
found  in  Professor  Shearin's  list,  and  still  more  of  those  in  the  Missouri 
list  presently  to  be  described.  It  shows,  I  believe,  only  one  of  the 
ballads  in  Child ;^  but,  as  it  is  professedly  only  a  selection  from  Mr. 
Lomax's  gathering,  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  whole  collection,  when 
published,  will  show  a  larger  number  of  the  old  ballads.  As  it  stands, 
however,  "Cowboy  Songs"  is  a  very  valuable  contribution  to  ballad 
study.  It  is  drawn  not  simply  from  Texas,  but  from  the  cowboys  of  the 
South  and  West  as  far  as  New  Mexico  and  Montana. 

A  considerable  collection  has  also  been  made  in  Missouri  since  1904, 
of  which  a  partial  list,*  containing  145  titles,  was  printed  last  year. 
Checking  ui)  the  collection  a  few  days  ago,  I  found  that  it  eoiitaiiii'd  347 

'  G.  L.  KiltrudKt'.  "Ballads  and  Rliyincs  from  Kentucky"  (.Child,  53.  68.  73,  84.  J4j). 
Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  .xx,  pp.  251-277;  "Two  Popular  Ballads."  Ibid., 
vol.  xxi.  pp.  54-56. 

*  L.  R.  Bascom.  "Ballads  and  Sours  f)f  Wfstcrn  North  ("arolina,  '  Ihid.,  vol.  xxii,  pp. 
238-250. 

'  J.  H.  C'ombs,  "A  Traditional  Ballad  Ironi  lli<-  Ktiituiky  .Mountains  '  (Child,  74). 
Ihid.,  vol.  xxiii,  pp.  381-382. 

'  11.  (».  Slicarin,  "British  Ballads  in  the  C'umlxiland  Mountain-;.  "  .Scwiinee  Rrvifx', 
July.  lyii.  pp.  3'2-327. 

^  ".'\  Syllahus  of  Kentucky  Folk-Songs."  Transylvania  University  Studies  in  English, 
ii,  LexiuKton.  Ky.,  191 1. 

'  Cowboy  .Songs,  cf)lleclcd  by  John  .\.  I.oniax,  New  \'ork,  i<;io. 

'  Ibid.,  p.  no  (Child,  278). 

'  Song-Iiallads  and  Other  Popular  Poetry  Knou-n  in  Missouri.  I'linlcd  for  the  Missouri 
I-'olk-Lore  Society.  Columbia,  Mo..  1910. 


4  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

more  or  less  distiiut  pieces,  besides  293  variants.  Only  18  of  them 
are  versions  of  ballads  found  in  Child;  a  much  larger  number  are 
descended  from  British  (English,  Scotch,  Irish)  broadsides  and  stall 
ballads.  Most,  though  not  all,  of  them  have  been  found  in  Missouri; 
some  are  from  Arkansas,  some  from  Illinois,  a  few  from  other  States. 

In  the  North  Central  States  no  great  amount  of  traditional  song 
has  been  collected.  A  few  ballads  from  Ohio  and  Illinois  were  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Newell  in  1900.^  Professor  Beatty  of  Wisconsin  pre- 
sented at  a  recent  meeting  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  eight 
old  ballads  that  had  come  to  his  hands,  all  but  one  of  them,  however, 
from  Kentucky;-  two. years  earlier  a  pupil  of  his  had  secured  from  a 
Scottish  woman  visiting  in  Wisconsin  versions  of  four  of  the  ballads  in 
Child.''  Miss  Louise  Pound  of  the  University  of  Nebraska  has  made 
an  effort  to  collect  ballads  in  that  State,  and  has  a  considerable  number; 
but  most  of  them,  she  tells  me,  were  learned  outside  the  State,  —  in 
X'irginia,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Colorado.  Professor  Tolman  of  Chicago 
has  collected  some  versions.  Dr.  H.  S.  V.  Jones  of  the  University  of 
Illinois  printed  one  from  that  State  (learned  by  his  informant  in 
X'irginia)  in  a  recent  issue  of  the  Journal.^  The  number,  however,  of 
the  ballads  in  the  Missouri  collection  that  arc  reported  to  have  been 
learned  in  Illinois  or  Indiana  from  thirty  to  sixty  years  ago,  and  Pro- 
fessor Miller's,  recollections^  of  "play-party  songs"  in  the  latter  State 
in  his  boyhood,  convince  me  that  ballads  are  still  to  be  found  there,  if 
one  knew  where  and  how  to  look  for  them. 

The  Pacific  coast  has  contributed  only  two;«  but  no  one  familiar 
with  the  conditions  of  traditional  popular  song  in  New  England, 
Kentucky,  and  Missouri,  and  with  Professor  Lomax's  account  of  the 
cowboys'  poetry,  will  be  able  to  persuade  himself  that  a  region  that 
was  pioneer  country  of  the  most  romantic  description  fifty  years  ago, 
and  has  since  then  been  the  home  of  the  highwayman,  the  hunter, 
the  lumberman,  and,  above  all,  of  the  miner,  is  without  its  quota  of 
traditional  balladry.  Several  of  the  pieces  in  the  Missouri  collection 
are  the  direct  result  of  the  mo\cment  that  peopled  California  in  1849. 

And  what  is  this  traditional  popular  song  that  has  thus  been  gathered 

'  W.  W.  Newell,  "Early  American  Ballads"  {Child.  12.  93),  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  vol.  xii.  pp.  241-255;  vol.  xiii,  pp.  105  ff. 

2  Arthur  Beatty,  "Some  Ballad  Variants  and  Songs"  {Child,  4,  53,  84),  Ibid.,  vol.  xxii. 
pp.  63-69. 

»  Arthur  Beatty,  "Some  Now  Ballad  X'ariants"  {Child,  26,  27,  40,  181),  Ibid.,  vol.  xx, 

pp.  154-156. 

*  H.  S.  V.  Jones.  "Robin  Hood  and  Little  John"   {Child.  125).   Ibid.,  vol.  xxiii,  pp. 

432-434- 

*  "The  Dramatic  Element  in  the  Popular  Ballad,"   University  of  Cincinnati  Studies, 

Ser.  II,  vol.  i  (1905).  PP-  30-31- 

*  Mrs.  R.  F.  Herrick.  "Two  Traditional  Songs"  {Child,  2),  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lnrc,  vol.  xix,  pp.  130-132. 


Balladry  in  America  5 

by  students  from  Nova  Scotia  to  New  Mexico?  FrankK-,  it  is  a  very 
heterogeneous  collection.  Of  the  hundreds  of  pieces  ha\  ing  sonic  claim 
to  separate  identity,  Mr.  Barry  has  reckoned  up  tifiy-two  as  being 
American  representatives  of  ballads  admitted  by  Child  to  his  collec- 
tion.' The  rest  are  of  the  most  varied  character  and  content,  having 
only  this  in  common,  —  that  they  are  popular  song  existing  in  oral 
tradition.  The  Missouri  collection  is,  I  believe,  typical  of  all  the  rest, 
save  that  it  lacks  the  parodies  of  recent  book-poetry  that  make  up  so 
large  a  part  of  the  cowboy's  repertory  in  Mr.  Lomax's  book;  and  I 
shall  therefore  give  here  a  brief  analysis  of  it. 

Of  the  eighteen  ballads  in  the  collection  that  are  found  also  in 
Child,  all  but  two  ha\c  been  printed  in  the  Journal.-  It  does  not 
appear  that  they  belong  to  any  special  order  of  balladry.  Most  of 
them  are  simple  ballads  of  romantic  tragedy  ("The  Pretty  Golden 
Queen"  [4],  "The  Old  Man  in  the  North  Countree"  [10],  "Thomas 
and  Ellender"  [73],  "William  and  Margaret"  [74],  "The  House  Car- 
penter" [243]),  or  of  a  sentimental  cast  ("Lord  Lovel"  [75],  "Barbara 
Allen"  [.S4]);  one  ("Black  Jack  Daley"  [200])  is  romance  without 
a  tragic  outcome,  at  least  in  the  imperfect  version  that  has  come 
to  hand;  one  ("The  Jew's  Garden"  [185])  is  a  relic  of  mediaeval 
calumny  of  the  Jews;  one  ("Georgia"  [209])  is  the  stor>'  of  the  efforts 
of  a  horse-thief's  wife  to  rescue  her  husband  from  the  gallows;  three 
("The  Yellow  Golden  Tree"  [286],  "Shipwreck"  [289],  "Andy  Bar- 
dan"  [250])  are  ballads  of  the  sea;  one  ("The  Cambric  Shirt"  [2]) 
is  a  riddle  ballad;  one  ("Bangum  and  the  Boar"  [18])  tells  of  a  fight 
with  a  monstrous  boar  in  whose  cave  lie  "the  bones  of  a  thousand 
men;"  (mic  ("The  Lone  Widow"  [79])  is  a  ballad  of  mother-love  and 
the  visiting  spirits  of  the  dead;  and  two  ("Dandoo"  [277],  "A  Woman 
and  the  Devil"  [278])  are  fabliaux.^  Naturally  there  are  no  "border 
ballafls;"  we  are  too  far  rcmo\ed  in  lime  and  place  for  an\thing  so 
locally  British.  Neither  are  there  any  heroic  ballads,  in  Professor 
Mart's  sense  of  the  term.  Ballads  in  Missouri  are  sung,  not  .'^aid,  and 
very  seldom  (those  corresponding  to  ballads  in  Child's  colleclion, 
never)  have  epic  breadth.  Indeed,  the  most  noticeable  facts  about 
these  eighteen  ballads  arc  all  negatixc  facts.  One  of  them  is  that 
themes   repulsive   to  our   moral   sensibilities  arc  dropjH-d.      Tlure   is 

'  Child.  2,  3.  4.  7.  10,  12.  IJ.  18.  20.  26.  27,  4J.  45.  46.  47.  40.  .S3.  68.  7.}.  74.  75.  70. 
79.  81.  84.  85,  9j.  95,  105,  106,  no.  125,  155,  162,  181.  188,  200,  209.  210.  214.  221.  24J. 
250,  274.  277,  378,  379,  281.  385,  287.  289.  295. 

'  "OUl-Country  Ballads  in  Missouri"  (Child.  4.  10,  18,  73,  74,  75,  84.  155,  300.  243, 
277.  278).  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xix.  pp.  331  340.  381  399;  vol.  xx.  p.  JI9 
(Child,  209);  "Thrrc  Old  Ballada  from  Missouri"  (Child,  2,  79.  286),  Ibid.,  vol.  xxiii.  pp. 
429-431. 

•  The  titles  given  are  ihosr  !)>•  wliii  h  tMi-  hallads  an-  known  in  Missouri.  The  corrc- 
s;x)n<linK  numbtrs  in  Child  arr  K'v<n  in  brai  kits. 


6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

nothing  like  "Lizzie  Wan,"  "Shcatii  and  Knife,"  or  "Child  Waters." 
Even  among  ihc  fabliaux,  apparently,  lewdness  is  taboo.  Another  is 
that  ballads  which  in  their  British  forms  present  more  or  less  distinctly 
supernatural  elements  lose  these  elements  in  America.  The  Elf- 
Knight  of  the  British  ballad  has  become  just  a  seducer  and  murderer 
of  royal  maidens,  who  at  last  meets  his  match  and  gets  his  deserts; 
it  is  Margaret  herself,  not  a  ghost  or  a  dream,  that  comes  to  William 
and  stands  at  his  bed's  feet;  it  is  the  returned  lov'er,  not  his  ghost  or  the 
devil  in  the  lover's  form,  that  entices  the  House  Carpenter's  wife  away 
from  husband  and  child  to  perish  at  sea  when  the  ship  has  "sprung  a 
leak."  Simple  human  tragedy  unadorned  with  picturesque  supersti- 
tion is  all  that  is  left  of  these  ballads  in  Missouri.  The  one  exception 
is  "The  Lone  Widow"  ("The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well"),  which  of  course 
would  lose  all  significance  as  anything  but  a  story  of  the  returning  dead. 
Even  a  bit  of  old  superstition  has  been  preserved  in  the  last  stanza  of 

this: 

"The  tears  you  have  shed,  my  mother  dear. 
Would  wet  our  winding-sheet." 

But  this  ballad  seems  to  be  almost  extinct;  only  after  some  years  of 
investigation  was  any  one  found  in  Missouri  who  knew  it.  The  third 
generalization  that  may  be  made  about  these  ballads  is  that  they  tend 
to  lose  the  full  ballad  style.  There  is  a  certain  modicum  of  ballad 
commonplaces  (often  misplaced),  and  there  are  traces  of  incremental 
repetition,  but  nothing  like  the  artistic  sequences  and  climaxes  of 
"Edward,"  "Child  Waters,"  or  "Babylon."  Not  that  they  are  in  the 
style  of  the  broadside  or  the  ballad  hack,  —  they  are  as  guiltless  of  the 
vulgarizing  particularity  of  Buchan's  blind  beggar  as  they  are  of  the 
banal  moralizings  of  the  typical  broadside,  —  but  they  are  w^orn, 
w^ithered,  shrunk  almost  to  the  skeleton  of  their  former  beauty,  even 
when  all  the  essentials  of  the  story  are  preserved. 

It  is  merely  for  convenience  that  I  have  described  these  eighteen 
ballads  found  in  Child  as  though  they  were  a  distinct  division  of  the 
popular  song  of  Missouri.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  only  a  portion, 
though  probably  the  oldest  portion,  of  a  much  larger  body  of  romantic 
narrative  preserved  in  oral  tradition.  Of  these  I  shall  endeavor  to 
present  some  leading  types. 

The  themes  are  largely  those  of  the  broadside  balladry  of  the  last 
two  centuries  in  England.  A  favorite  is  that  of  the  returned  soldier 
or  sailor  lover.  This  is  represented  by  a  number  of  pieces,'  all  of  them 
known  as  stall  ballads  in  England  in  the  last  century.  They  range  in 
style  from  the  rude  simplicity  of  "Young  Johnny,"  —  which,  despite 
its  reference  to  Ireland,  smacks  strongly  of  Wrapping  Old   Stairs,  — 

'  Ten  of  them  were  printed  under  the  heading  "Popular  Song  in  Missouri — The 
Returned  Lo\c-r,"  in  Ilerrig's  Archiv,  vol.  cxx,  pp.  63  ff. 


Balladry  in  America  7 

through  the  vulgar  sentiment  of  "The  Soldier  Boy,"  "William  Hall," 
and  "The  Banks  of  Claudy,"  and  the  vulgar  tragedy  of  "The  F'aultless 
Bride,"  to  the  gentle  harmlessness  of  "Mary  and  Willie"  and  the 
polite  parlor  atmosphere  of  "Willie's  on  the  Dark  Blue  Sea."  "  Young 
Johnny"  has  more  of  the  ballad  manner  than  any  of  the  printed 
versions  known  to  me: 

Young  Johnny  been  on  sea, 

And  ^'oll^g  J()hnn\'  been  on  ^^hure, 
And  \'oung  Johnny  been  to  Ireland 

Where  ^'uung  Johnny  been  before. 

"You  are  welcome  home.  Young  Johnn\", 

You  are  welcome  home  from  sea, 
For  last  night  daughter  Molly 

Lay  dreaming  of  thee. 

"Oh,  what  for  luck  had  you.  Young  Johnny, 

Oh,  what  for  luck  had  you  on  sea?" 
"  I  lost  my  ship  and  cargo 

All  on  the  roaring  sea. 

"  Go  bring  your  daughter  Molly 

And  set  her  down  by  nie, 
And  we'll  drownd  the  melancholy 

And  married  we  will  be." 

"  .Molly  is  not  at  home,  Johnny, 

Nor  hasn't  been  this  day; 
And  I  am  sure  if  she  was,  Johnny, 

She  would  not  let  you  stay. 

"  .Molly's  \er\  rich,  loliiinx , 


Young  Johnny  feeling  drowsy 

He  hung  down  his  head. 
And  he  called  for  a  candle 

To  light  him  to  bed. 

"The  green  beds  they  are  full,  Johnny, 
And  have  l)cen  for  this  week; 

And  now  for  your  lodging, 

poor  Johnny,  you  must  seek." 

He  looked  u|)on  the  people, 

He  looked  upon  (hem  all. 
He  l«)okcd  upon  the  landlord 

And  loudly  he  did  call. 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Saying,  "How  much  do  I  owe  you? 

I'm  ready  for  a  call." 
"It's  twenty  for  the  new  score 

And  forty  for  the  old." 

Then  Young  Johnny  he  pulled  out 
His  two  hands  full  of  gold. 


'■  1  did  n't  speak  in  earnest, 

Neither  was  I  just, 
For  without  any  exception 

She  loves  you  the  best." 

Then  Molly  came  a  running  down, 

Gave  him  kisses  one,  two,  three; 
Saying,  "The  great  bed  is  empty, 

And  you  may  lie  with  me." 

"Before  I  would  lie  in  your  green  bed 

I  would  lie  within  the  street; 
For  when  I  had  no  money 

My  lodging  I  might  seek. 

"Now  I  have  money  plenty,  boys. 

We  will  make  the  taverns  herl  [hoivl?] 
A  bottle  of  good  brandy 

And  a  better  looking  girl!" 

Another  la\orite  theme  is  that  of  the  girl  who  follows  her  kner  — 
generally  a  soldier  or  a  sailor  —  disguised  as  a  man.  Of  the  almost 
cotmtless  \ariations  upon  this  theme  that  have  been  circulated  by  British 
ballad-printers  since  Mary  Ambree's  time,  "Jack  Munro"  has  lasted 
best  in  Missouri.  The  versions  of  it  in  our  collection  show  interesting 
stages  of  historical  and  gec^graphical  confusion.  In  one,  MoUie's  father 
is  "a  wealthy  London  merchant;"  Jack  is  drafted  to  "the  wars  of 
Germany,"  he  goes  to  "old  England,"  and  the  wedded  pair  return  from 
Spain  to  "French  London,"  wherever  that  may  be.  Another  \ersion 
has  the  merchant  still  in  London,  but  (perhaps  by  association  with  the 
mention  of  Spain)  has  Jack,  now  become  a  farmer,  drafted  into  the 
army  "for  Santa  Fe,"  where  he  is  cut  down  by  "a  bullet  from  the 
Spaniards."  In  still  another  \ersion  the  transference  to  America, 
though  vague,  is  complete.  The  wealthy  merchant  "in  Louisville 
flid  dwell;"  Jack  "has  landed  in  New  Mexico,  in  the  wars  in  Santa 
Fe;"  whereupon  Mollie  "harnessed  up  a  mule-team,  in  a  wagon  she 
set  sail  [a  prairie  schooner,  evidently],  she  landed  in  New  Mexico 
on  a  swift  and  pleasant  gale,"  where  presently  "the  drums  did  loudly 
beat  and  the  cannon's  balls  did  flv,"  and  Mollie  rescues  her  lover  as 


Balladry  in  America  9 

before.  "William  Taylor"  —  whose  sweetheart  follows  him  in  dis- 
guise, finds  that  he  has  married  another  woman,  and  sIkjoIs  him  dead 
—  is  also  known  in  Missouri;  and  a  third  picec-,  in  which  the  heroine, 
disguised  as  a  boy,  follows  her  lover  the  captain,  shares  his  bed  with(nit 
revealing  her  sex,  and  marries  him  next  morning. 

In  most  of  the  printed  ballads  on  the  Female  S(jldier  (or  Sailor) 
theme,  empliasis  is  laid  upon  the  contrast  between  the  heroine's  tender 
beauty  and  the  rough  offices  she  must  perform.  In  "Jack  Munro" 
this  takes  the  form  of  a  dialogue  which  may  be  said  to  be  the  poetic 
core  of  the  piece: 

"Your  waist  is  slim  and  slender. 

Your  fingers  they  are  small. 
Your  cheeks  are  red  and  rosy 

To  face  a  cannon-ball." 

"I  know  my  waist  is  slender. 

My  fingers  ihey  are  small, 
But  I  have  a  heart  within  me 

To  face  a  cannon-ball." 

No  printed  ballad  that  I  have  seen  has  developed  this  motive  in  sO 
ballad-like  and  etTective  a  fashion.  The  nearest  aj)proach  to  it  is  in 
certain  forms  of  a  popular  farewell  dialogue  between  the  sailor  or 
soldier  and  his  sweetheart,  often  printed  by  the  broadside  press,  and 
represented  by  what  I  might  call  "The  Nut  Brown  Maid"  of  our 
collection.  William  must  leave  for  the  wars.  Poll\-  begs  him  to  >t.i\ 
with  her;  if  he  will  not,  she  says,  — 

".My  yellow  hair  then  I'll  cut  off. 

Men's  clothing  I'll  put  on; 
I'll  go  'long  with  you,  William, 

I'll  he  your  waiting  man. 
I'll  fear  no  storm  or  battle, 

Let  them  he  ne'er  so  great; 
Like  true  and  faithful  servant 

I'pon  you  I  will  wait." 

W'hereuijoii  ciisucn  tin-  li)ll<i\\iii^  di.iloguc:  — 

"  N'liur  wai^t  it  is  tix)  slender,  li)\e, 

\'(>ur  lingrrs  are  toct  small, 
I'm  afraid  you  would  not  answer 

If  I  should  on  you  call 
\\  lure  the  cannon  loiully  rattle 

.Xnd  the  hia/ing  bullets  lly, 
.\n(l  the  silver  trumpets  sounding 

To  (Irownd  the  deadly  cry." 


10  J  our  7ial  of  American  Folk-Lore 

"My  waist  is  not  too  slender,  lo\e, 

My  fingers  not  too  small, 
I'm  sure  I  would  not  tremble 

To  face  the  cannon-ball 
\\  here  the  guns  are  loudly  rattling 

And  the  blazing  bullets  lly, 
And  the  silver  trumpets  sounding 

To  drownd  the  deadly  cry." 

"Supposing  I  were  to  meet  with  some  fair  maid, 

And  she  were  pleased  with  me, — 
If  I  should  meet  with  some  fair  maid. 

What  would  my  Polly  say?"  , 

"What  would  I  say,  dear  William? 

Why,  I  should  love  her  too. 
And  stand  aside  like  a  sailor 

While  she  might  talk  with  you." 

The  last  test  having  been  thus  satisfactorily  met,  William  straightway 
marries  her,  and  now  together  they  are  "sailing  round  the  main." 
The  stanzas  which  this  piece  shares  with  "Jack  Munro"  are  probably 
borrowed  by  the  latter,  since  they  do  not  appear  in  the  British  prints 
of  "Jack  Munro,"  whereas  an  inferior  form  of  them  does  appear  in 
British  prints  of  the  "Nut-Brown  Maid"  dialogue. 

Another  favorite  theme,  both  of  the  ballad  press  and  of  traditional 
song  in  Missouri,  is  that  of  the  man  who  entices  the  girl  he  has  promised 
to  marry  away  from  human  help,  either  to  the  forest  or  to  the  water- 
side, and  there  kills  her.  Familiar  stall-ballads  upon  this  theme  are 
"The  Wittam  Miller,"  "The  Gosport  Tragedy,"  and  "The  Bloody 
Brother."  The  forms  of  it  found  in  Missouri  are  most  like  "The  Wit- 
tam Miller;"  they  have  no  ghost,  and  they  characteristically  avoid 
the  motive  of  incest;  yet  they  are  often  in  other  respects  close  to 
"The  Bloody  Brother"  both  in  temper  and  in  language.  Most 
widely  known  is  "The  Jealous  Lover"  (so  it  is  generally  called;  but 
it  is  known  sometimes  by  other  titles,  —  "  Abbie  Summers"  in  Pike 
County,  "Emma"  in  Bollinger  County,  "  Down  by  the  Drooping  Wil- 
lows" in  Lafayette  County,  and  in  Scotland  County  as  "Florilla," 
which  is  a  variant  of  the  names  under  which  it  has  been  found  by 
Mr.  Barry  in  New  Hampshire,  and  by  Miss  Pettit  and  Professor  Shearin 
in  Kentucky).  "The  Jealous  Lover"  might  be  described  as  "The 
Bloody  Brother"  with  the  motives  of  incest,  "double  murder,"  and 
supernatural  detection  of  the  crime  left  out,  and  an  elegiac  note  intro- 
duced.    It  commonly  begins, — 

One  evening'when  the  moon  shone  brightly 

There  gently  fell  a  dew, 
When  out  of  a  cottage 

A  jealous  Io\er  drew. 


Balladry  in  A  merica  1 1 

Says  he  to  fair  young  F.llen, 

"  Down  on  the  sparkling  brook 
We'll  wait  and  watch  and  wonder 

Upon  our  wedding  day." 

In  the  next  stanza  they  have  evidently  wandered  some  distance,  for 
she  asks  to  be  taken  home.  But  he  has  already  drawn  his  knife, 
and,  despite  her  pleadings  and  assurances  of  faithfulness,  into  her 


And  now 


fair  young  bosom 
He  splunged  a  daggered  knife. 

Down  yander  in  the  valley 

Where  the  violets  are  in  bloom, 
There  sleeps  a  fair  young  damsel 

All  silent  in  the  tomb. 

Another  piece,  which  has  come  to  me  without  a  title,  is  a  reduction  of 
"The  Wittam  Miller."  He  takes  her  out  for  a  walk,  knocks  out  her 
brains  with  a  fence  stake,  and  throws  her  body  into  the  mill-pond; 
and  when,  upon  his  return  home,  his  mother  asks  him  how  he  got 
blood  on  his  clothes,  he  answers  that  it  came  from  "bleeding  at  the 
nose."  Still  another  form  is  "Pretty  Oma,"  ^  which  opcni  in  quite 
the  characteristic  ballad  style: 

"Come  jump  up  behind  me  and  away  we  will  ride, 

Till  we  come  to  Sc}uire  Gardner's  and  I'll  make  you  my  bride!" 

She  jumped  up  behind  him  and  away  they  did  ride, 
Till  they  came  to  decj)  waters  by  the  river's  divide. 

Thereupon  the  lover  beats  her  into  insensibility,  and  drowns  her  "just 
below  the  mill-dam." 

It  would  hardly  be  worth  while  here,  even  if  it  were  possil)le,  to  list 
and  classify  all  the  items  in  the  collection  that  scorn  likcK'  to  ha\e  been 
derived,  mediately  or  iiiinu'diatcK-,  from  the  printed  ballads  of  the 
Old  World.  Man\'  of  them  ha\e  lost  any  distinct  narrati\e  content 
and  become  mere  popular  lyrics,  most  often  of  disap|«)iiUed  loxe. 
lacrymose  or  rebellious.  Oliiers  are  remembered  onK'  as  fragments. 
Some,  in  the  form  in  which  they  luue  been  taken  down,  are  com- 
l)<)un(ied  of  many  simples,  —  broken  memories  strung  together  in  un- 
conscious or  half-conscious  poetic  joinery  b\'  a  pr()ce>s  f.iinili.ir  iiiou:^li. 
however  little  understood,  to  students  of  balkulr\-.  It  is  impossible 
to  say,  for  instance,  how  man\-  diffi-rent  pieces  the  collection  contains 
upon  the  tluinc  of  the  Forsaken  (iirl,  because  .so  many  of  them  seem 
to  be  mereh'  in(li\idual  or  temporar\'  composites  of  imperfect  mem- 
ories.    A  few  old  favorites,  not  \el  mentioned,  which  hold  tlu-ir  story 

'  Two  versions  of  "Pretty  Onia"  have  Ijcen  recordetl  l)y  Misa  I'eltit  in  Kentucky  (tct 
KittrecJKe,  "Ballads  and  Rhymes  from  Kcnliirky."  Jourmit  of  Amt-riian  Folk-I^rr, 
vol.  x.\.  pp.  265-267). 


12  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

pretty  well,  are  "Kate  and  her  Horns,"  "Dog  and  Gun,"  "The 
Driver  Boy,"  "The  Soldier's  Wooing"  (i.  e.,  "The  Masterpiece  of 
Love-Songs"),  "The  Silvery  Tide,"  "Mary  of  the  Moor,"  "Johnny 
Sands"  (in  two  forms),  and  "Darby  and  Joan;"  and  the  Irish  ballads 
of  "William  Reilly,"  "Ranordine,"  "The  Croppy  Boy,"  "Brennon 
on  the  Moor,"  and  "St.  Helena." 

Besides  the  representatives  of  Old  World  balladry  so  far  considered , 
there  is  a  considerable  number  of  what  may  fairly  be  described  as 
American  balkids.  Some  of  them,  to  be  sure,  are  plainly  derived  or 
adapted  from  British  vulgar  ballads,  but  they  have  been  so  far  made 
over  as  to  have  acquired  a  perceptibly  American  coloring.  I  shall 
speak  first  of  those  that  seem  not  to  have  had,  or  to  have  lost,  any 
definite  historical  connection,  and  later  of  those  the  origin  of  which 
can  be  ascribed  to  known  political  or  industrial  movements. 

Two  domestic  tragedies  may  be  mentioned  first.  "Little  Orphan 
McAfee"  is  quite  in  the  spirit  of  English  and  Irish  gallows-pieces; 
but  I  do  not  know  it  in  print,  and  suppose  it  to  be  of  American  origin 
among  immigrants  of  the  ballad-loving  sort.  McAfee  was  piously 
reared  by  an  uncle,  but,  refusing  good  advice,  married  a  wafe,  then  fell 
in  love  with  another  woman,  poisoned  and  strangled  his  wife,  and  is 
now  awaiting  his  end  upon  the  gallows.  More  clearly  American  is 
"Sons  of  Columbia"  (otherwise  "Fuller  and  Warren"),  —  the  story 
of  a  girl  who,  having  promised  herself  to  one  of  her  two  suitors,  throws 
him  over  and  marries  the  other,  whereupon  the  rejected  kills  the  ac- 
cepted lover  and  is  sentenced  to  death.  This  piece  always  closes 
with  a  warning  against  the  wiles  of  "fickle-minded  maids,"  for 

Woman  has  always  been  the  downfall  of  man 
Since  Adam  was  beguiled  by  Eve. 

"Fair  Fannie  Moore"  is,  so  far  as  I  know,  an  American  product. 
though  it  would  not  surprise  me  to  find  that  it  came  from  Ireland. 
Fannie  rejects  the  advances  of  the  rich  and  haughty  Randal,  and 
marries  Edward,  a  youth  of  low  degree.  Randal  finds  her  alone  one 
day  at  her  cottage,  and  gives  her  the  choice  of  yielding  to  his  love  or 
dying  on  the  spot.  She  chooses  the  latter  alternative.  Later  Randal 
is  caught  and 

hiuij^  in  chains  on  a  tree  beside  the  door. 
For  taking  the  life  of  the  fair  Fannie  Moore. 

There  is  a  crudely  literary  tone  about  this  piece,  which  yet  has  not 
prevented  its  being  pretty  widely  current  as  a  "song-ballad."  No 
such  charge,  however,  can  be  brought  against  "The  Silver  Dagger," 
which  tells  of  two  lovers  parted  by  hard-hearted  and  worldly  parents, 
of  the  girl's  wanderings,  despair,  and  final  suicide,  of  her  lover's  ar- 


Balladry  in  America  n 

ri\al  in  lime  to  catch  her  last  words,  bidding  him 

"  Prepare  to  meet  me  on  Mount  Sion 
Where  all  our  joys  shall  be  complete," 

and  of  his  following  her  example  in  self-destruction;  still  less  against 
"The  Butcher  Boy,"  whose  forsaken  sweetheart  goes  upstairs  and 
hangs  herself  with  a  piece  of  rope.  This  ballad  —  known,  I  believe, 
all  over  the  country  —  is  an  example  of  a  kind  of  composition  frequcntl  v 
represented  in  British  stall-ballads,  but  not,  I  think,  the  work  origi- 
nally of  writers  for  the  ballad  press;  rather,  I  believe,  printed  from 
oral  tradition  because  it  is  already  known  and  liked  and  will  sell. 
It  has  the  incongruity  found  in  some  traditional  versions  of  "Barbara 
Allen,"  of  beginning  as  a  story  told  by  the  heroine  herself,  and  passing 
unconsciously  to  the  narrative  of  her  hanging  herself  and  being  cut 
down  by  her  father. 

American  in  origin  and  currency  are  "Springfield  Mountain"  and 
"Young  Charlotte."  The  former — the  story  of  a  young  man  bitten 
in  the  hay-field  by  a  rattlesnake  —  originated,  according  to  the  inves- 
tigations of  Mr.  Newell,  in  Colonial  times  in  Massachusetts;^  but  it 
has  lost  any  local  significance  in  the  two  forms  of  it  known  in  Missouri. 
The  latter,  a  favorite  from  Nova  Scotia  to  Oklahoma,  was  composed, 
Mr.  Barry  believes,  by  a  rural  poet  named  Carter,  in  Vermont,  about 
two  generations  ago.  It  has,  however,  no  marks  of  time  or  place 
beyond  such  as  are  inherent  in  the  tragic  motive,  —  a  young  girl, 
taken  by  her  lover  to  a  Christmas  or  New  Year's  dance  in  a  distant 
town,  freezes  to  death  by  his  side  on  the  way,  because  she  would 
not  wrap  herself  in  a  blanket  and  hide  her  fine  clothes.  Unlike  the 
Returned  Lover  or  the  Female  Soldier  theme,  unlike  even  the  Ameri- 
canized "Butcher  Boy"  or  the  American  "Springfield  Mountain," 
this  ballad  is  essentially  the  same  wherever  it  is  found.  Not  onlv 
certain  striking  or  significant  stanzas,  as  in  the  case  of  "Black  Jack 
Daley"  and  "Jack  Munro,"  but  others,  of  merely  reflective  or 
descriptive  character,  hold  their  place,  with  slight  verbal  changes, 
from  Canada  lo  the  Southwest.     I'or  example,  the  opening  stanzas,  — 

Young  Charlotte  lived  on  a  nu)unlain  side, 

In  a  wild  and  dreary  s|)()t, 
There  were  no  other  dwellings  for  live  miles  rt)uiKl 

I*'xccpl  her  father's  cot. 

And  yet  on  many  a  winter's  nipht 

Young  swains  would  gather  there, 
For  her  father  kept  a  social  board 

\nd  she  was  young  and  fair,  — 

'  W.  W.  Xcwoll,  "Early  American  Rallafis,"  Journal  of  Amfritatt  Folk-Lore,  \iil.  xiii, 
\)\).  105    112;  I'.  Barrj,-,  "Native  Halladtv  in  America,"  Ihid.,  vol.  xxii,  pp.  3(>S  J73. 


14  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

far  as  they  arc  from  what  wc  think  of  as  the  "ballad  manner,"  are 
as  persistent  as  the  more  vi\id  and  ballad-like  — 

"O  daughter  dear,"  her  mother  cried, 

"This  blanket  around  you  fold, 
For  'tis  a  bitter  night  abroad; 

You'll  catch  your  death  of  cold." 

"Oh,  no!  oh,  no!"  young  Charlotte  cried. 

And  she  laughed  like  a  gipsy  queen, 
"To  ride  in  a  blanket  all  nuifirted  up 

I  never  will  be  seen," — 

or  those  containing  the  tragic  centre  of  the  story, — 

"Such  a  dreadful  night  I  never  saw; 

My  reins  I  scarce  can  hold" — 
Young  Charlotte  faintly  then  replied, 

"I  am  exceeding  cold." 


Spoke  Charles,  "How  fast  the  freezing  ice 

Is  gathering  on  my  brow!" 
And  Charlotte  still  more  faintly  said, 

"I'm  growing  warmer  now." 

"Young  Charlotte,"  by  virtue  of  its  wide  currency,  the  absence  in  it 
of  a  distinctly  "vulgar  ballad"  or  "popular  ballad"  style,  and  its 
persistency  of  form  in  spite  of  what  appears  to  have  been  exclusively 
oral  transmission,  constitutes  perhaps  the  most  interesting  and  proble- 
matical phenomenon  in  American  popular  song. 

History  as  such,  ballad  students  have  long  since  observed,  soon 
fades  out  of  popular  song.  War  and  politics  are  too  remote  and 
complex  in  their  originating  motives,  too  transitory  in  their  bearing 
upon  individual  experience,  to  maintain  themselves  in  balladry. 
Few  traces  of  song-ballads  dealing  with  American  history  before  the 
Civil  War  have  been  preserved  in  Missouri.  "Marching  to  Quebec," 
which  Weston  described  as  a  favorite  amusement  of  rural  Americans 
eighty  years  ago,  is  still  remembered  as  a  "play-party"  song.  An 
incident  of  the  War  of  1812  is  preserved  in  "James  Bird,"  and  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans  in  "  Packingham."  At  least  one  widely- 
known  song  must  have  had  its  origin  in  a  famous  battle,  —  "The 
Texas  Rangers,"  which,  despite  its  mention  of  Indians  and  the  Rio 
Grande,  is  surely  an  echo  of  the  great  fight  at  the  Alamo  on  March  6, 

1835- 

I'm  a  Texas  ranger, 

I  know  you  know  me  well. 


Balladry  in  America  15 

About  the  age  of  sixteen 

I  joined  that  jolly  band, 
We  marched  from  Western  Texas 

Down  by  the  Royal  Grande. 

Our  captain  he  informed  us, 

Perhaps  he  thought  it  right, 
"  Before  we  reach  the  station, 

Brave  boys,  we'll  have  to  fight." 

I  saw  them  Indians  c(jmin', 

I  heard  them  give  the  yell, 
My  feelings  at  that  moment 

No  human  tongue  could  tell. 

Our  bugle  it  was  sounded 

And  the  captain  gave  command: 
"To  arms,  to  arms!"  he  shouted, 

"And  by  your  horses  stand." 

I  saw  the  dust  arisin'. 

It  seemed  to  touch  the  sky, 
My  feelin's  at  that  moment, 

"Oh,  now's  my  time  to  die." 

We  fought  them  full  nine  hours 

Before  the  strife  gave  o'er, 
And  like  the  dead  and  wounded 

I  never  saw  before. 

Five  hundred  n()l)le  rangers 

That  ever  trod  the  West, 
Now  dyin'  in  the  e\enin' 

With  bullets  in  their  breast. 

Certain  resemblances  suggest  that  this  was  modelled  on  the  Briii>h 
ballad  "Nancy  of  Yarmouth." 

The  Civil  War  had  its  cjuota  of  camp-ballads  as  well  as  of  pathetic 
and  sentimental  songs,  but  few  of  them  can  be  said  to  li\e  in  tradition 
at  the  present  day.  The  collection  I  am  describing  has  a  considerable 
number  —  rambling  narratives  of  the  fight  at  Springfield,  of  Sterling 
Price's  cavalry  exploits,  of  the  Vicksburg  and  (^.ettysburg  campaigns  — 
bearing  sufficient  internal  evidence  of  having  been  composed  and 
sung  aroimd  the  camp-fire  and  on  the  march;  but  they  come  mostK- 
from  manuscript  ballad-books  of  war-times  or  shortly  after,  or  at 
best  from  the  memory  of  old  soldiers.  Somewhat  luore  persistent 
are  the  sentimental  ballads;  for  instance,  "When  this  Ouel  War  is 
over,"  which,  it  may  be  remarked  in  passing,  found  its  wa\-  to  tlu- 
London  stalls,  ha\ing  been  printed  by  Such  with  the  heading  "Weep- 
ing Sad  and  Lonely,  A  Song  on  the  .Xnu-rican  War."      "Tiu'  ("lucrrilla 


i6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Boy,"  sun^  prcsumabK'  in  the  camps  of  the  bushwhackers  (it  is 
presetA'cd  in  a  manuscript  ballad-book  compiled  in  the  seventies), 
is  merely  an  adaptation  to  the  life  of  the  Missouri  guerrillas  of  a 
British  stall-ballad  entitled  "The  Roving  Journeyman." 

New  social  conditions  and  industrial  movements  come  closer  to 
the  consciousness  of  the  common  people  than  do  war  and  politics;  at 
least,  so  one  would  infer  from  our  song-ballads.  "The  Hunting  of 
the  BufTalo,"  originally  an  emigrant's  song,  and  frequently  printed 
by  the  British  ballad  press  in  the  last  century,  persists  as  a  children's 
singing-game.  "  Pretty  Maumee,"  a  song  of  the  frontiersman's  Indian 
sweetheart,  probably  preserves  in  its  title  and  refrain  the  name  of  the 
Miami  tribe  of  Indians.  The  rush  for  the  California  gold-fields  in 
1849-50  gave  birth  to  "Joe  Bowers,"  which  everybody  knows,  and  to 
its  less  familiar  counterpart,  "Betsy  from  Pike;"  also  to  two  soberer 
song-ballads,  "Come  All  Ye  Poor  Men  of  the  North"  and  "Since 
Times  are  so  Hard."  A  later  mining-fever  produced  the  mournful 
tale  of  "The  Dreary  Black  Hills." 

Those  picturesque  frontiersmen  of  the  very  recent  past,  the  cowboys, 
had,  as  Mr.  Lomax  has  shown,  a  considerable  poetry  of  their  own;  and 
some  of  it  has  become  part  of  the  traditional  song  of  Missouri.  The 
two  best-known  of  the  cowboy-songs  are  "The  Lone  Prairee"  and 
"The  Dying  Cowboy."  Both,  it  is  worth  remarking,  are  adapta- 
tions of  pieces  that  had  originally  nothing  to  do  with  cattlemen  or  the 
Western  plains.  "The  Lone  Prairee"  is  "The  Ocean  Burial,"  a 
sailor's  ballad  oi  uncertain  authorship,  that  has  been  current  in  New 
England  for  about  two  generations,  made  over  to  meet  cowboy  con- 
ditions. In  the  original  the  dying  sailor  begs  that  he  may  not  be 
buried  in  "the  deep,  deep  sea,"  where  the  sea-snake  will  hiss  in  his 
hair,  and  the  billowy  shroud  will  roll  over  him;  in  the  Western  adap- 
tation the  dying  cowboy  begs  that  he  may  not  be  buried  "on  the 
lone  prairee,"  where  the  rattlesnakes  hiss  and  the  coyote  will  howl 
over  him.  "The  Dying  (\)wboy"  has  a  less  reputable  origin,  being 
a  plainsman's  \ersion  of  an  Old  World,  possibly  Irish,  soldier's  ballad 
known  as  "The  Unfortunate  Lad."  ^ 

The  career  of  Jesse  James  made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  popular 
imagination  in  his  native  State,  and  is  recorded  in  a  widely-known 
ballad  in  wliich  his  exploits  of  robbing  the  Gallatin  bank  and  holding 
up  the  Danville  train  are  celebrated.^     The  chief  emphasis,  however, 

'  G.  F.  Will,  "Songs  of  Western  Cowboys,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxii, 
pp.  258-259;  J.  A.  Lomax,  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  74;  P.  Barry,  "Irish  Folk-Song,"  Journal 
of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxiv.  p.  341. 

■  L.  R.  Bascom.  "Ballads  and  Songs  of  Western  North  Carolina,"  /.  c,  p.  246;  J.  A. 
Lomax,  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  27.  In  the  latter  volume  are  versions  of  other  song-ballads 
current  in  Missouri:  to  wit,  "The  Lone  Prairie,"  "Joe  Bowers,"  "Texas  Rangers," 
"Love  in  Disguise,"  "Fuller  and  Warren,"  "Sam  Bass,"  "MacAfec's  Confession."  "Tbc 


Balladry  in  Ainerica  ij 

is  laid  upon  the  treachery  of  Robert  Ford,  the  Ganclon  to  tliis  band 
of  outlaws: 

It  was  Robert  Ford, 
That  dirty  little  coward, 
I  wonder  how  he  does  feel ; 
For  he  ate  of  Jesse's  bread 
And  slept  in  Jesse's  bed. 
Then  laid  poor  Jesse  in  the  grave; 

and  the  refrain  goes,  — 

That  dirty  little  coward 
That  shot  Mr.  Howard  ' 
And  laid  poor  Jesse  in  the  grave. 

Jesse  James  has  had,  so  far,  no  successor  who  can  dispute  with  him 
the  title  of  bandit  hero  in  Missouri.  But  song-ballads  of  untraced 
authorship  continue  to  appear  and  to  pass  into  oral  circulation. 
There  is  one  on  the  murder  of  Garfield;  one  on  "The  Iron  Mountain 
Baby,"  a  child  thrown  out  by  its  mother,  in  a  hand-satchel,  from  a 
train  on  the  Iron  Mountain  Railroad,  and  found  and  brought  up  by 
one  of  the  railroad  men;  and,  by  no  means  the  least  interesting,  one 
upon  the  wholesale  murder  of  the  Meeks  family  by  the  Taylor 
l)rothers,  cattlemen,  in  Sullivan  County,  about  twelve  years  ago. 

Notwithstanding  the  prevalence  of  "godly  ballads"  in  Reformation 
times  and  the  presence  of  certain  old  biblical  pieces  in  Child's  collec- 
tion, it  is  customary  nowadays  to  think  of  ballads  as  dealing  only  with 
secular  themes.  No  such  predisposition  governs  the  singer  of  song- 
ballads  in  Missouri.  "The  Romish  Lady"  (sometimes  "The  Roman 
Lady"),  whose  po|)ularity  is  attested  by  several  copies  from  different 
localities,  is  a  piece  of  aggressive  Protestantism  that  carries  us  straight 
back  to  the  Book  of  Martyrs.  The  Roman  lady  has  somehow  got  hold  of 
a  Bible  and  come  to  realize  the  wicked  idolatry  of  the  Popish  religion. 
Her  mother  u[)braids  her,  tries  to  force  her  back  into  submission,  and, 
failing  in  tlii^,  Iiaiids  her  o\er  to  the  Inquisition,  In'  whom  the  girl  is 
burnt  at  the  stake,  calling  u\nm  (Jod  with  her  last  breath  to  receive 
lier  soul  and  to  "pardon  |)riest  and  |>eopIe"  for  their  blindness.  An- 
other religious  ballad,  known  as  "Tiie  Link-  P'amily, "  ti-iis  (he  story 
of  the  raising  of  Lazarus.  Others  are  rather  doctrinal  than  epic. 
One  of  these  jiresents  the  terrors  of  danmation  with  a  %  igor  not  im- 
worthy  of  Michael  Wigglesworth,  and  nuisl  h.iw  been  a  valued  .ill\ 
of  the  |)reacher  in  his  long  and  losing  light  against  cards,  dancing,  and 
other  wiles  of  the  Devil.  It  exists  in  two  forms,  -one  for  man,  and 
one  for  ni.iid.      That  for  man  begins,  — 

Dreary  Black  Hills."  "Jack  Munro."  "I-'aniiic  Moore,"  "N'oiiiiR  ("liarlolle."  '  Uri'^y 
from  Pike."  "Rosin  the  Bow."  and  "SpriiiKfieUl  Moimtaiii  " 

'  The  a.'isumed  name  under  wliich  James  was  Jisiiin  when  lie  was  sliot. 
VOL.  XXV. — NO.  95. — 2 


Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

Dcaih  is  a  melancholy  call, 
A  certain  jiidpnienl  for  us  all; 
Death  takes  the  >ounp  as  well  as  old 
And  lays  them  in  his  arms  so  cold. 
'Tis   awful  —  awful  —  awful. 

I  saw  a  youth  the  other  day, 
He  looked  so  young,  he  was  so  gay; 
He  trifled  all  his  time  away 
And  dropped  into  eternity. 
'Tis   awful  —  awful  —  awful. 


But  that  for  maid  will  be  sufificient: 


THE   WICKED   GIRL 

Young  people  hear  and  I  will  tell, 
A  soul  I  fear  has  gone  to  Hell; 
A  woman  who  was  young  and  fair, 
Who  died  in  sin  and  dark  despair. 

Her  tender  parents  oft  did  pray 
For  her  poor  soul  from  day  to  day 
And  give  her  counsel,  good  advice. 
But  she  delighted  still  in  vice. 

She  would  go  to  frolics,  dance  and  play, 
I n  spite  of  all  her  friends  could  say ; 
"I'll  turn  to  God  when  I  am  old. 
And  then  he  will  receive  my  soul." 

At  length  she  heard  the  spirit  say: 
"Thou  sinful  wretch!  forsake  thy  way; 
Now  turn  to  God,  or  you  shall  dwell 
Forever  in  the  flames  of  Hell." 

"No,  I'm  too  young,"  thus  she  replied, 
"My  comrades  all  would  me  deride." 
The  spirit  then  bade  here  farewell. 
And  thus  consigned  her  soul  to  Hell. 

It  was  not  long  till  Death  did  come 
To  call  this  helpless  sinner  home; 
And  while  she  was  on  her  dying  bed 
She  called  her  friends  and  thus  she  said: 

"My  friends,  I  hid  you  all  farewell. 
I  die,  I  die,  I  sink  to  Hell! 
There  must  I  lie  and  scream  and  roll, 
For  God  will  not  receive  my  soul! 

"My  tender  parents,"  she  addressed, 
"I  hope  your  souls  will  both  be  blessed; 


Balladry  in  America  19 

But  your  poor  child  you  now  may  see, 
But  soon  shall  be  in  misery. 

"My  weeping  mother,  fare  you  well! 
The  pains  I  feel  no  tongue  can  tell! 
Dear  Parents,  your  poor  child  is  lost, 
Your  hopes  they  are  forever  crossed." 

These  are  not  hymns,  but  religious  song-ballads.  One  more  may  be 
mentioned,  "The  Railroad  to  Heaven."  ^  It  was  perhaps  composed  for 
revival  meetings  of  railroad-men,  but  is  certainly  not  restricted  to 
them.  By  a  quite  elaborate  allegory,  the  process  of  salvation  is  pre- 
sented under  the  figure  of  a  railway  journey  in  which  Christ  is  the 
engineer.     The  piece  exists  in  widely  varying  forms.^ 

I  fear  that  I  have  exhausted  your  patience  with  this  long  account 
of  a  not  very  inspiring  collection  of  popular  song.  I  shall  therefore 
pass  over  the  "play-party"  songs,^  the  riddles,  the  sectional  satires, 
and  the  few  items  of  negro  song  contained  in  it,  and  devote  a  few 
minutes  at  the  close  to  pointing  out  some  of  the  problems  that  arise,  and 
the  way  in  which  co-operative  collection  may  help,  and  has  helped, 
in  their  solution. 

Upon  the  general  and  basic  problem  of  classification  —  the  question 
whether  we  shall  classify  ballads  according  to  intrinsic  qualities  of 
tone,  style,  and  structure,  or  according  to  theories  (more  or  less  in- 
susceptible of  demonstration)  as  to  their  origin,  or  according  to  their 
known  history  and  vogue  —  the  work  of  collection  in  America  will 
throw,  perhaps,  little  direct  light.  But  it  may  be  expected  to  throw 
considerable  light  upon  certain  problems  preliminary  to  the  solution 
of  the  general  problem,  and  chiefly  upon  these:  — 

I.  The  relation  of  print  and  manuscript  to  oral  tradition. 
II.  The   interrelation    between   oral    tradition   and    the   "popular 
ballad"  style. 
III.  The  origin  of  "authorless"  balladry. 

W .  The  function  of  music  in  the  origin  and  periH-tuatioii  of  ballads. 
\'.  The  social  and  geographical  distribution  of  b.illads. 

I.  I  loj^y^'s  inotlur  I  believe  it  was  who  protestid  that  when  ballads 
were  reduced  to  |)rint  they  were  killed;  and  I'rofi-ssor  (iumnuTc  seems 
to  be  of  the  siime  opinion.      But  Professor  Mackenzie's  investigations 

'  Several  rrlJKioua  sonK-ballad!)  have  appeared  in  ptiiit  from  tiiiu-  to  tiim\  descrihinR 
the  Christian's  way  to  lifavcn  uncli-r  the  siniilitiidr  of  a  railway  jouriu-y  or  a  voyage  on 
shiptward. 

'  RcliRiotis  sonR-ballatls  arc  curri-nt  in  North  (\iroIina.  See  Emma  M.  Barkun, 
"Karly  Son^s  from  North  Carolina."  Journal  of  Amrrican  Fotk-I^rf,  vol.  xiv.  pp.  286  jg.j. 

'  Mrs.  L.  I).  Ames,  "The  Missouri  I'lay-Party,"  Ibid.,  vol.  xxiv.  pp.  395-318. 


20  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

in  Nova  Scotia  poiiu  lo  llie  iniportation  of  printed  ballads  from  Scot- 
land as  an  important  element  in  the  perpetuation  of  ballads  in  that 
region.  Professor  Shearin  tells  me  that  country  newspapers  bear  a 
part  in  the  dissemination  of  song-ballads  in  Kentucky  ;i  and  I  have 
found  that  Trifet's  Monthly  Budget  of  Music,  and  such  printed  collec- 
tions as  "The  Forget-Me-Not  Songster"  and  "Old  Put's  Songster," 
have  been  known  and  used  —  in  one  case  used  up  —  in  Missouri. 
Even  the  stall-ballad  is  not  unknown.  I  have  seen  a  copy  of  "The 
Wicked  Girl"  printed  on  a  small  sheet,  "price  five  cents,"  in  the  pos- 
session of  a  negro  washerwoman.-  Moreover,  the  fact  that  a  great 
many  of  the  "vulgar  ballads"  recorded  from  tradition  in  New  England, 
Kentucky,  and  Missouri  —  though  commonly  declared  by  the  singer 
to  have  been  learned,  not  from  print,  but  from  the  singing  of  another  — 
are  yet  to  be  found  in  the  output  of  the  nineteenth-century  ballad 
press  in  London,  is  certainly  not  without  its  significance.  Of  the 
importance  of  manuscript  copies,  in  the  form  either  of  single  ballads 
or  of  ballad-books,  in  preserving  and  spreading  popular  song,  there 
can  be  no  question.  These  are  not  the  work  of  scholars  and  anti- 
quaries, nor,  like  Mrs.  Brown's  manuscripts,  written  out  at  the  request 
of  scholars  and  antiquaries,  but  rather,  like  the  Percy  Folio,  the  simple 
ballad-lover's  method  of  securing  and  preserving  the  ballads  that  he 
likes.  Curiously  enough,  they  are  very  often  just  the  ballads  that  are 
most  frequently  found  in  the  output  of  the  Seven  Dials  presses;  show- 
ing apparently  that  it  was  easier  to  write  out  a  desired  ballad,  whether 
from  oral  rendering  or  from  print,  than  to  get  another  printed  copy. 

These  facts  suggest  that  the  function  of  print  and  handwriting  in 
the  perpetuation  of  what  the  singers  themselves  commonly  think  of  as 
jHirely  traditional  song  has  been  underestimated,  and  should  be 
further  looked  into.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  some  ballads  that 
seem  to  owe  nothing  to  print.  The  most  striking  case  is  that  of 
"Young  Charlotte,"  already  mentioned.  It  was  composed,  as  Mr. 
Barry's  investigations  have  led  him  to  believe,  about  seventy-five  years 
ago  in  Vermont,  and  was  probably  carried  by  its  author  to  Ohio  and 
Missouri,  where  his  wanderings  as  a  Mormon  took  him.  In  these 
and  other  States  it  is  pretty  widely  known,  with  surprisingly  little 
variation  in  matter  or  manner;  and  there  is  nothing  to  show  that  it 
ever  circulated  in  print. ^     If  its  stability  of  form,  as  compared  with 

'  Even  city  newspapers  maintain  a  folk-singers'  exchange, — "Notes  and  Queries," 
in  the  Boston  Transcript;  "Everybody's  Column,"  in  the  Boston  Globe;  and  "The  Forum," 
in  the  Philadelphia  Press.     Many  excellent  ballad  texts  have  thus  been  preserved. 

'  Stall-ballads  were  printed  in  Boston  by  N.  Coverly  in  the  first  decade  of  the  nineteenth 
century;  during  the  latter  half  of  the  century,  broadsides  in  great  numbers  were  published 
by  DeMarsan,  VVchman  (New  York). 

'  Since  this  was  written  I  have  seen  it  in  a  newspaper  clipping  (from  Good  Stories, 
undated,  but  comparatively  recent).  This  print  of  it,  however,  is  clearly  the  effect,  not 
the  cause,  of  its  traditional  circulation. 


Balladry  in  America  21 

"Jack  Munro"  or  "The  Jealous  Lover,"  owes  nothing  to  print,  then 
it  is  an  evidence  of  the  faithfulness  of  oral  tradition  even  in  the  nine- 
teenth century;  and  the  further  inference  is  suggested,  at  least  to 
those  familiar  with  the  printed  balladry  of  the  last  century,  that  varia- 
tion and  decay  may  be  due  rather  to  print  than  to  oral  transmission.' 
None  of  the  ballads  taken  down  from  oral  tradition  in  Missouri  show 
as  incoherent  a  jumble  as  do  some  of  the  patchwork  ballads  issued  by 
Such  and  Pitts  and  Catnach  and  their  kind.  Evidently  there  is  still 
much  to  be  learned  concerning  the  part  played  by  print  in  the  per- 
petuation and  variation  of  ballads,  and  the  way  to  learn  it  is  to  trace 
back  from  present  conditions. 

II.  "Young  Charlotte"  is  also  very  instructive  in  regard  to  the  rela- 
tion existing  between  oral  tradition  and  the  "popular  ballad"  style, 
as  we  have  now  learned  to  define  it.  Mr.  Barry  is  himself  presenting 
to  you  to-day  his  conclusions  as  to  "communal  re-creation"  in  this 
ballad,  as  he  has  formerly  done  in  the  case  of  "The  Lone  Prairee," 
and  I  shall  not  repeat  them  here;  but  I  may  add  that  a  good  deal 
might  be  found  in  support  of  his  position  in  other  ballads  in  the  collec- 
tion described,  especially  those  that  have  their  originals  (or  counter- 
parts) in  printed  balladry.  The  American  traditional  versions  of  these 
ballads  have  commonly  more  of  the  ballad  style  than  the  printed  ver- 
sions. There  is,  of  course,  always  the  possibility,  in  the  case  of  such 
a  poem  as  "Young  Charlotte,"  that  the  changes  in  the  direction  of 
the  "ballad  style"  are  due  simply  to  the  presence,  in  the  people's 
repertory,  of  old  ballads  to  which  the  new  are  unconsciously  assimi- 
lated; in  other  words,  that  "communal  re-creation"  explains,  not  the 
origin  of  the  ballad  style,  but  why  traditional  ballads  assume  that 
style.  Even  so,  the  doctrine,  if  confirmed  by  a  number  of  well- 
developed  cases,  will  go  far  to  set  at  rest  the  controversy  that  has 
raged  so  long  about  the  talismanic  words  das  Volk  dichtct. 

III.  The  problem  of  the  origin  of  anonymous  and  apparently  author- 
less  popular  song  can  be  studied  to  special  advantage  in  living,  con- 
temporary instances.  Take,  for  instance,  the  song-ballad  of  "Jesse 
James."  P2verybody  (loosely  speaking)  knows  it;  nobody  knows 
where  it  comes  from.  It  is  as  authorless  and  traditional  as  "The 
Two  Sisters"  or  "The  Demon  Lover."  But  it  is  only  a  few  years 
ago  that  the  events  it  celebrates  happened.  Can  it  not  be  traced  from 
one  living  singer  to  another  up  to  its  source?  Or  take  the  still  later 
ballad  of  the  Meeks  murder,  which  happened  about  a  dozen  years  ago. 
Miss  (}.  M.  Hamilton  informs  me  that  half  her  class  in  the  Kirksvillc 
Normal  School  know  the  [)iece;  most  of  the  people  who  lived  at  the 
scene  of  the  tragedy  are  living  there  still;  a  cousin  of  one  of  her  pupils 

'  Of  course  it  is  not  meant  that  the  ballads  were  purposely  altereil.  hut  only  that  tin- 
versions  printc<l  by  the  ballad  press  seem  often  to  have  been  supplied  by  persons  who 
did  not  fully  know  or  sviiitmiIu/i-  with  the  true  ballad  tradition. 


22  Joiinial  of  American  Folk-Lore 

helped  pull  the  dead  bodies  from  under  the  haystack.  Yet  the  piece 
is  already  an  authorless  ballad,  —  as  much  so,  apparently,  as  any  of  the 
old  British  ballads.  Has  it  "jes'  grovved,"  like  Topsy,  or  is  it  the 
work  of  some  obscure  rhapsodist  like  Carter  of  Bensontown?  Surely 
these  questions  can  be  answered,  for  a  ballad  whose  whole  history  lies 
within  the  memory  of  those  who  now  sing  it,  with  a  completeness  and 
detail  impossible  for  ballads  that  come  down  from  earlier  generations. 

IV.  Our  fourth  problem,  the  function  of  the  melody  in  the  origin, 
spread,  and  development  of  ballads,  has  received  far  too  little  attention 
from  students  of  balladry  in  this  country.  The  ballad  in  its  true 
estate  is  sung  or  chanted,  not  spoken,  still  less  read;  certainly  in 
America  it  io  alwa^^s  a  "song-ballad."  Without  the  tune,  a  ballad 
is  indeed  "a  very  dead  thing;"  and  ballad-lovers  generally,  I  sup- 
pose, make  up  a  sort  of  chant,  as  I  do,  for  ballads  that  come  to  them 
without  a  tune.  The  ballad  demands  it.  Yet  too  many  of  us  attempt 
to  study  the  development  of  a  ballad,  or  the  relation  of  one  ballad  to 
another,  merely  from  the  written  words,  with  no  knowledge  or  thought 
of  the  melody  with  which  those  words  were  winged.  For  the  older 
records  this  procedure  is  often  inevitable,  inasmuch  as  the  air  of  a 
ballad  was  seldom  set  down  in  manuscript,  and  in  broadsides  w^as 
indicated  by  a  name  which  the  reader  might  or  might  not  be  able  to 
interpret.  But  in  contemporary  balladry  the  melodies  may  be  studied 
in  living  relation  with  the  words  —  how  fruitfully,  let  Mr.  Barry's 
papers  in  recent  numbers  of  the  Journal  bear  witness. ^  It  is  true  that 
music  is  less  circumscribed  than  words,  and  may  be  transferred  from 
one  ballad  to  another;  it  is  true  also,  unfortunately,  that  many  enthu- 
siastic ballad  students  are  unable  to  put  the  tune  on  paper  along  with 
the  words.  But  at  least  the  tune  is  there  for  those  able  to  record  it. 
And  from  the  study  of  this  ballad  music  we  may  confidently  look  for 
much  light  upon  the  genesis,  perpetuation,  and  mutation  of  ballads. 
What,  for  instance,  is  the  limit  of  variation  of  a  ballad  tune  before 
it  loses  its  identity?  How  does  the  same  ballad  come  to  be  sung  to 
quite  different  tunes?  Is  the  tune  more  persistent  in  the  case  of 
a  l)alhid  that  has  spread  only  by  oral  tradition  than  in  the  case  of 
one  that  has  circulated  only  in  ballad  print?  What  part  has  the 
melody,  traditional  or  improvised,  played  in  the  formation  of  new 
ballads  out  of  fragments  of  old  ones?  How  does  the  same  ballad 
come  to  have  widely  different  refrains?  To  the  answers  to  these  sig- 
nificant questions,  all  who  can  record  the  music  of  our  living  song- 
ballads,  whether  by  the  ordinary  notation  or  by  phonograph,  can 
contribute. 

V.  And  finally,  the  co-operative  study  of  living  balladry  is  sure  to 
enlarge  our  knowledge  of  the  social  and  cultural  conditions  from  which 

•  See  the  articles  listed  in  Note  i,  p.  2,  especially  those  on  "Folk-Music  in  America" 
anrl  "The  Origin  of  Folk-Melodies." 


Balladry  in  America  23 

ballads  spring,  and  under  which  they  flourish.  We  shall  learn  whether 
a  given  ballad  is  an  inheritance  from  the  days  of  the  first  settlers,  or 
came  in  with  immigrants  in  the  nineteenth  century;  whether  it  is  of 
English,  or  Scotch,  or  Irish  provenience.  If  it  is  of  native  origin, 
we  shall  find,  as  Mr.  Barry  has  done  in  the  case  of  "Young  Charlotte," 
into  what  parts  of  the  country  it  has  travelled,  and  why;  perhaps 
even  the  particular  people  or  sort  of  people,  and  the  particular  geo- 
graphical paths,  by  which  it  has  travelled.  We  shall  find  what,  if 
any,  special  types  of  balladry  thrive  in  particular  regions,  or  among 
special  occupations  or  classes  of  people.  We  shall  be  able  to  check, 
by  first-hand,  living,  verifiable  evidence,  theories  regarding  the  essen- 
tial conditions  of  balladry  that  have  been  derived  in  great  part  from 
fragmentary,  sometimes  {)rejudiced,  sometimes  ignorant,  and  in  all 
cases  now  dead  and  unverifiable  evidence  of  past  centuries. 

It  is  clear,  I  think,  that  the  solution,  or  even  an  advance  toward 
the  solution,  of  the  problems  here  reviewed,  will  be  of  the  highest  value 
in  solving  the  general  and  basic  problem,  —  the  definition  and  classi- 
fication of  ballads.  A  good  beginning  has  been  made,  but  it  is  only  a 
beginning.  Some  regions  have  scarcely  been  touched,  none  have  been 
exhausted.  Believing,  as  I  do,  that  the  spirit  of  balladry  is  not  dead 
or  dying,  but  as  immortal  as  romance  itself,  I  cannot  incite  collectors, 
as  ballad-lovers  have  been  doing  for  the  last  century,  with  the  cry  of 
"Now  or  never;"  but  I  can  and  do  urge  upon  all  who  care  for  ballads 
and  ballad  problems  the  value  of  the  collection  of  living  balladry  in 
America. 

Note.  —  The  Publication  of  Ballads.  To  make  the  investigation  of 
ballads  in  this  country  eflfectively  co-operative,  it  is  of  course  necessary  that 
each  collector's  findings  should  be  available,  for  study  and  comparison,  to 
all  other  students  of  the  subject.  As  has  been  shown,  a  considerable  body  of 
ballads — largely  versions  of  those  included  in  Child's  collection  —  has  already 
been  printed  in  the  Journal  and  elsewhere;  but  it  is  scattered  through  many 
issues,  and  the  sum  of  it  is  but  a  fraction  of  the  signifuant  material  that 
has  been  gathered.  For  three  of  the  collections,  lists  of  titles,  with  brief 
descriptions  of  the  pieces  included,  have  been  printed.  These  are  helpful, 
and  have  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  progress  of  the  work;  but  they  are 
not  ade<iuatc.  In  the  study  of  a  subject  so  elusive  and  complex  as  balladry, 
nothing  can  take  the  place  of  the  texts  themselves.  It  is  therefore  much  to 
be  wished  that  a  way  might  be  found  of  getting  together  and  publishing  in 
a  single  work,  with  so  much  classification  as  may  be  feasible  and  with  an  ex- 
haustive index,  all  the  traditional  balladry  known  in  America.  Such  an 
undertaking  would  involve  much  labor,  and  could  not  be  expected  to  bring 
a  monetary  return  to  the  i)ublishers;  but  it  would  doubtless  find,  like  the 
"Wordsworth  Concordance,"  workers  ready  for  the  task;  and  it  would  be 
richly  worth  while  from  the  point  of  view  of  scholarship,  of  criticism,  and 
of  social  history. 
Columbia.  Mo. 


24  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 


ON   THE   I'RlNt  IPl.E   OF   CONVERGENCE   IN 
ETHNOLOGY  1 

by  robert  ii.  lowie 

graebner's  position 

In  a  recent  work  on  the  methods  of  ethnology,-  Dr.  Graebner  once 
more  expounds  the  theoretical  position  familiar  to  readers  of  his  former 
writings.'  The  central  problem  of  ethnology  is  for  him  the  determi- 
nation of  cultural  connections.  Resemblances  in  culture  must  be 
primarily  accounted  for  by  historical  connection,  —  in  the  first  place, 
because  the  existence  of  such  connection  stands  unchallenged  for  a 
large  part  of  the  phenomena;  secondly,  because  there  are  no  objective 
criteria  of  independent  development.  Lack  of  historical  relationship 
cannot  be  established  by  the  most  intense  feeling  that  such  a  rela- 
tionship is  improbable,  for  this  feeling  is  of  a  purely  subjective  char- 
acter. Neither  can  the  absence  of  proof  for  historical  connection  be 
interpreted  as  a  stringent  demonstration  that  an  historical  relation- 
ship does  not  exist.  It  is  indeed  conceivable,  that,  after  determining 
all  cultural  relationships,  we  may  still  be  confronted  with  independent 
partial  similarities;  but  obviously  this  conclusion  would  result,  not 
from  the  application  of  definite  criteria  of  independent  evolution,  but 
solely  from  the  non-applicability  of  the  criteria  of  cultural  connection. 
"So  blcibt  denn  als  erstes  und  Grundproblem  der  Ethnologic  wie  der 
ganzen  Kulturgeschichte  die  Herausarbeitung  der  Kulturbeziehungen." 

What,  then,  are  the  criteria  of  cultural  connection?  Two  such  are 
recognized  b>-  (iraebner,  —  the  criterion  of  form,  that  is,  of  the  coin- 
cidence of  characteristics  not  necessarily  resulting  from  the  nature  of 
the  objects  compared:  and  the  criterion  of  quantitative  coincidence. 
In  innumerable  cases  the  form-criterion  is  self-sufficient.  Ne\'erthe- 
less,  Graebner  notes  instances  of  its  misapplication,  through  fanciful 
afifiliatio-^^  of  heterogeneous  forms.  Here,  it  seems,  the  ciuantitati\e 
criterion  should  have  been  used;  that  is  to  say,  as  it  is  one  of  the 
cardinal  doctrines  of  Graebner's  philosophy  of  ethnology  that  the 
diffusion  of  isolated  cultural  elements  —  even  of  myths  —  is  impossible 
(kullurgeschichtliches  Nonsetis),  the  doubtful  parallelism  of  two  forms 
can  be  immediately  established  if  they  are  recognized  as  elements  of 
the  same  or  related  cultural  complexes.  So  far  as  continuous  areas 
are  concerned,  these  criteria  have  not  been  challenged:  they  are  gen- 

'  Prrsontnl  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  American  FoIk-Lorc  Society  in  Washington, 
Dec.  28.  191 1. 

'  Melhode  der  Elhnologie  (Carl  Winter's  Universitatsbiu  lihandlung,  Heidelberg.  191 1). 

'  More  particularly,  "Die  melanesische  Bogenkullur  und  ilire  Verwandten,"  Anlhropos, 
iv  (1909).  pp.  726-780.  998-1032. 

24 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology 


-:> 


erally  employed  in  establishing  linguistic  relationship,  and  have  proved 
valid  in  the  study  of  European  culture.  Graebner  sees  no  reason  for 
limiting  the  criteria  to  continuous  areas:  he  does  not  hesitate,  for 
example,  to  use  them  as  proofs  for  a  far-reaching  connection  between 
Old-World  and  New-World  culture.  The  only  objection  advanced 
against  such  applications  of  the  criteria  has  been  the  improbabilit\-, 
under  primitive  conditions,  of  diffusion  over  the  tremendous  distances 
dealt  with.  On  the  one  hand,  this  argument  is  refuted  by  the  migra- 
tions of  the  Malayo-Polynesians  and  the  occurrence  of  Asiatic  tales 
in  South  America.  But,  in  addition,  the  contrary  argument  may  be 
strengthened  by  two  auxiliary  principles.  The  supposed  lack  of  con- 
tinuity between  two  areas  may  prove  deceptive.  There  may  be  found 
cultural  features  bridging  the  geographical  gap  between  the  areas 
compared  (continuity-criterion) ;  and  there  may  be  such  a  diffusion 
of  cultural  elements,  that  geographical  proximity  varies  directly  with 
the  degree  of  cultural  relationship  (criterion  of  form-variation),  —  a 
result  manifestly  not  to  be  expected  on  the  theory  of  independent 
evolution  of  parallel  forms.' 

The  foregoing  account  already  describes  by  implication  Graebner's 
position  on  the  subject  of  convergent  evolution.  From  his  point  of 
view,  it  matters  little  whether  similarities  are  belie\ed  to  result  from  a 
psychology  common  to  mankind  or  from  the  convergence  of  originalU- 
distinct  phenomena.  In  either  case,  there  is  an  assumption  of  inde- 
pendent development;  and  as  positive  criteria  of  independent  develop- 
ment are,  according  to  (iraebner,  non-existent,  both  theories  are  on  a 
methodologically  inferior  plane  as  compared  with  the  doctrine  of 
historical  connection.  In  particular,  Graebner  criticises  Ehrenreich's 
definition  of  "convergent  exolution"  as  the  result  of  similar  environ- 
ment, similar  psychology,  and  similar  cultural  conditions.  Similarities 
in  natural  conditions,  he  ccjiitends,  ha\e  been  considerably  overe^ii- 
mated.  The  psychology  of  ditYerent  branches  of  mankind  shows  as 
much  differentiation  as  their  physical  traits.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
psychological  unity  of  mankind,  which  is  in\'okcd  to  explain  ultural 
resemblances,  has  really  been  inferred  only  from  the  observed  resem- 
blances. If  peoples  of  distinct  geographical  areas  reveal  far-reaching 
psychical  resemblances,  the  (|uestion  arises  whether  these  are  not 
ultimately  due  to  genetic  relati<jnship  or  cultural  contact.  So  far  as 
the  similarity  of  cultural  conditions  is  concerned.  Graebner  insists  that, 
if  in(lcp<iulcnl  (le\('l()j)nu'nt  be  assumed.  similaritN'  of  cultural  condi- 
tions could  result  solely  from  the  natural  environment,  and  that  simi- 
larity of  cultural  conditions  would  presuppose  a  high  tiegrcc  of  psychi- 
cal resemblance.  .Xgainst  I'.hrcnreich's  stalemenl,  that  in  spite  of 
various  parallels  wiili  ( )l(l-\\(jrld  culture,  the  cultmc  df  Amtrici  beats 
'   Crafbncr,  /.  c,  pp.  94-125. 


26  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

a  distincti\cly  American  stamp,  Gracbner  declares  that  it  is  not  clear 
how  heterogeneous  cultural  conditions  could  lead  to  parallels,  which, 
according  to  Ehrenreich,  must  be  due  to  a  similar  cultural  environ- 
ment. An  a  fortiori  argument  is  used  to  clinch  the  discussion.  Euro- 
pean civilization  has  developed  a  remarkable  similarity  of  cultural 
milieu.  Nevertheless  the  number  of  well-authenticated  instances  of 
independent  parallel  development  is  exceedingly  small.  In  the 
majority  of  instances  we  find  merely  combinations  of  thoughts  and 
motives  already  extant  in  the  culture  common  to  authors,  inventors, 
or  thinkers.  But  even  the  residual  cases  lose  their  force  as  to  conver- 
gent development  among  primitive  races:  for,  on  the  one  hand,  these 
modern  instances  rest  on  a  peculiarity  of  modern  culture,  —  the  con- 
scious striving  for  progressive  development;  on  the  other,  the  same 
thought  may  indeed  be  conceived  twice,  but  the  literature  of  science  indi- 
cates that  the  same  thought  does  not  necessarily  become  socially  and 
culturally  significant  in  more  than  one  case.  If  a  cultural  similarity 
resting  on  close  genetic  relationship  has  produced  so  small  a  number  of 
independent  parallels  of  social  significance,  it  may  reasonably  be 
doubted  whether  the  relative  psychological  unity  of  mankind,  and  the 
resemblance  of  natural  conditions,  could  produce  such  absolute 
identity  of  culture  as  to  result  not  merely  in  the  conception,  but  in  the 
social  acceptance  and  further  development,  of  the  same  thoughts. 

Two  questions  confront  the  reader  in  connection  with  the  views  pre- 
sented above.  In  the  first  place,  does  Dr.  Graebner  correctly  define 
the  logical  standing  of  the  antagonistic  theories  of  independent  develop- 
ment and  genetic  or  cultural  relationship?  Secondly,  does  Dr. 
Graebner  grasp  the  essentials  of  the  doctrine  of  convergence  as  it  has 
been  employed  in  ethnological  practice?  The  following  pages  will  be 
devoted  to  an  examination  of  these  questions. 

LOGICAL   STANDING   OF   THE   RIVAL   THEORIES 

The  supposed  methodological  superiority  of  the  theory  of  contact 
and  relationship  rests,  as  indicated  above,  on  the  assumption  that  it  is 
distinguished  by  positive,  objective  criteria,  while  the  rival  theory  lacks 
such  criteria.^  Indeed,  the  argument  that  independently  evolved 
cultural  similarities  could  be  detected  only  by  the  non-applicability 
of  Graebncr's  criteria  (p.  107)  involves  the  strongest  conviction  that 
criteria  of  independent  development  not  only  have  not  been  found, 
but  that  it  is  impossible  to  discover  them. 

In  the  first  place,  the  objectivity  of  (iraci)ncr's  criteria  is  in  large 
measure  illusory.  He  himself  points  out  that  the  form-criterion  is 
liable  to  fanciful  subjective  interpretations  (p.  118).     In  all  doubtful 

•  This  prjint  of  view  also  appears  in  Graebncr's  brief  reply  to  a  criticiue  by  Habcrlandt, 
Petermanns  MiUeUtingen,  191  r,  pp.  228-230. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergeiice  in  Ethnology  27 

cases,  however,  he  counsels  testing  by  the  second,  unconditionally 
objective  {unbedingt  objektiven)  criterion  of  quantity.  It  may  at  once 
be  admitted  that  this  criterion  does  provide  a  ciuantitati\e  measure 
for  the  degree  of  relationship  between  two  cultural  complexes.  This 
relationship,  however,  cannot  be  established  except  by  demonstrating 
the  relationship  of  corresponding  elements  in  the  two  complexes. 
Each  equation  can  be  made  only  by  the  application  of  the  form- 
criterion.  In  each  particular  comparison  there  will  thus  admittedly 
be  a  subjective  factor,  hence  it  is  quite  illogical  to  argue  that  a  summa- 
tion of  parallels  will  eliminate  the  subjective  element.  Apart  from 
this,  what  we  know  of  the  psychology  of  investigation  does  not  justify 
us  in  the  belief  that  a  student  who  disco\-ers  intensive  morphological 
resemblances  —  though  other  investigators  fail  to  note  them  —  would 
ever  feel  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  a  test  by  another  criterion;  and, 
if  he  did,  he  doubtless  would  have  little  difficulty  in  propping  up  his 
fanciful  parallel  1)\-  others  not  less  whimsical.  Indeed,  the  (}uantitative 
test  leads  to  curious  results  in  Graebner's  own  case.  Against  Haber- 
landt,  —  who  reproaches  him  with  classifying  together  such  diverse 
objects  as  the  "male"  and  the  "female"  spear-thrower,  nay,  even 
the  Maori  sling-stick,  —  Graebner  urges  that,  if  a  complex  has  once 
been  established  on  the  basis  of  well-defined  elements,  even  a  morpho- 
logically indeterminate  element,  such  as  the  spear-thrower,  must  be 
regarded  as  part  of  the  complex,  provided  its  distribution  coincide  with 
that  of  the  other  elements.'  This  is  undoubtedly  a  vicious  principle. 
From  the  identity  of  even  an  indefinitely  large  number  of  corrcsp<^nding 
elements  in  two  series  it  does  not  follow  that  certain  other  associated  ele- 
ments are  genuine  parallels  and  must  be  brought  into  a  genetic  rela- 
tionship. The  "male"  and  the  "female"  spear-thrower  might  reason- 
ably be  grouped  together  as  conceivable  differentiations  from  a  common 
prototype;  but  to  argue  that  so  heterogeneous  an  object  as  the  sling- 
stick  is  related  to  them  if  it  occurs  in  a  similar  combination  of  elements, 
is  not  testing  the  criterion  of  form,  but  sacrificing  it. 

While  Graebner's  criteria  of  genetic  rclationshij)  arc  thus  found  to 
lack  the  strictly  objeclixe  character  claimed  for  them,  indepeiuleiil 
development  need  not  be  defended  on  purel\-  subjecti\i'  grounds,  e\en 
where  a  stringent  deinonslralion  is  im|)ossil)li'.  (iraebner  criticises 
Ehrenreich  for  holding  that  the  siime  nulliologic.il  ideas  ma>-  develop 
independently  a  great  number  of  times  from  uni\ers.illy  observable 
natural  i)hcnomena.*  This,  he  contends,  is  an  a  priori  j)osilion  lacking 
in  sanity,  because  from  the  reach'  con(ei\abilil\'  of  independent  de- 
velopment we  cannot  infer  \\\Qjact  of  independent  <le\  elopment  (p.  «)7) ; 

'  Petermanns  Millfilutiufn.  191 1,  p.  229.  C'lrachni-r.  of  roiirso,  drx-s  not  ncglpct  the 
(lifTori-ncfs  in  sprar-iliiowcr  types  except  in  his  theoretical  Hpoculations  (sec  Anthropos, 
iv.  p.  73^>)- 

'   AUnftiifittr  M \tlu)l<H'ii\  p.  26O. 


28  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

that  is  to  say,  Graebner  considers  the  theory  of  independent  develop- 
ment inferior,  because  it  leaves  the  door  open  to  the  arbitrary  indi- 
vidual judgment  of  psychological  probability.  Now,  it  may  at  once 
be  admitted  that  no  amount  of  psychological  investigation  can  actu- 
ally demonstrate  that  two  given  cultural  phenomena,  possessing  as  they 
do  the  unique  character  distinctive  of  historical  happenings,  originated 
independently.  A  demonstration  could  be  given  only  if  we  knew  the 
actual  history,  which  we  generally  do  not.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  how- 
ever, the  theory  of  independent  development  is  not  one  whit  worse  off 
in  this  respect  than  its  rival  theory;  for  it  is  an  utterly  mistaken  notion 
that  the  psychological  factor  is  excluded  by  the  assumption  of  cultural 
relations.  The  comparison  of  form  can  never  do  more  than  establish 
the  identity  of  forms;  that  such  identity  is  to  be  explained  by  a  genetic 
relationship  is  an  hypothesis  of  varying  degrees  of  probability.  That 
the  details  of  the  crutch-shaped  Melanesian  paddle  should  occur  in 
South  America  is  to  Dr.  Graebner  a  sufficient  proof  of  common  origin 
(p.  145).  Why?  Because  he  cannot  conceive  how  such  similarit\' 
could  result  independently.  But  what  is  inconceivable  for  him  is 
perfectly  conceivable  for  Ehrenreich  and  others.  From  the  incon- 
ceivability of  independent  development  by  a  single  student  we  certainly 
cannot  infer  the  fact  of  a  common  origin.  We  are  dealing  with  prob- 
abilities, not  with  certainties  in  either  case;  the  only  point  is  to  increase 
the  probability  of  either  theory,  and  here  I  cannot  find  that  the  doctrine 
of  independent  development  is  in  a  less  favorable  position.  It  seems 
to  me,  on  the  contrary,  that  a  number  of  observations  in  individual 
psychology,  as  well  as  a  number  of  social  facts,  well-nigh  establish  the 
independent  development  of  certain  simple  cultural  traits;  and  that 
in  other  cases  the  probability  of  such  development,  while  not  as  yet 
determined,  can  be  readily  investigated  at  the  present  time. 

As  an  example  of  the  former  kind  I  should  regard  certain  observa- 
tions on  the  re-actions  of  children  in  the  dark.  If  the  widespread  fear 
of  the  dark  which  enters  into  primitive  belief  were  exclusively  the  result 
of  tradition,  it  might  be  reasonably  argued  that  it  had  developed 
from  the  same  source  of  origin.  This  theory,  however,  becomes  im- 
probable as  soon  as  w^e  find  that  the  distinctive  feeling  of  uncanniness 
appears  in  equal  force  where  all  traditional  beliefs  tending  to  foster 
dread  of  the  dark  have  been  rigorously  excluded  from  the  child's 
curriculum.'  An  element  not  altogether  negligible  in  primitive  belief 
is  thus  shown  to  be  an  element  of  our  psycho-physical  constitution. 
The  psychology  of  dreams  furnishes  additional  material  bearing  on  the 
question.  If  certain  physiological  conditions,  say  retinal  irritations, 
are  regularly  correlated  with  certain  dream  images  which  coincide 

•  Mach,  Die  Analyse  der  Empfindungen,  1906,  p.  62.  These  observations  are  confirmed 
by  Dr.  Petrunkevitch  in  an  oral  communication  to  the  present  writer. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology  29 

with  widespread  mythological  conceptions,  then  such  conditions  must 
be  considered  as  constituting  a  vera  causa  for  the  explanation  of 
the  mythological  ideas.  Thus,  the  widespread  conception  of  a  gro- 
tesquely distorted  counter^ance  may  be  plausibly  traced  to  VVundt's 
"  Fralzentrdume."  Of  course,  we  do  not  know,  and  never  shall  be  able 
to  know  with  certainty,  that  these  dreams  formed  the  foundation  of 
the  corresponding  beliefs.  But  to  disregard  them  entirely,  to  deny 
that  they  affect  the  merits  of  the  case,  would  be  to  indulge  in  that  form 
of  sterile  hypercriticism  with  which  Graebncr  not  infrequently  re- 
proaches his  own  opponents.  In  other  directions,  systematic  obsers'a- 
tions  could  at  least  be  planned  and  instituted.  For  example,  psy- 
chological child-study  might  establish  the  fact  that  children  of  different 
countries  re-act  in  an  essentially  similar  way  on  the  every-day  phe- 
nomena observable  in  the  heavens.  With  the  same  reservations  as 
before,  due  to  the  unique  character  of  historical  happenings,  we  should 
then  be  justified  in  attaching  a  high  degree  of  probability  to  Ehren- 
reich's  conjecture  as  to  the  independent  origin  of  simple  nature  myths. 
In  other  fields,  the  study  of  indi\i(lual  psychology  from  this  point  of 
view  might  present  greater  practical  difticulties:  it  might,  for  example, 
prove  impossible  to  disentangle  the  infiuencc  of  traditional  art-forms 
in  an  incjuiry  into  the  dc\clopmcnt  of  drawing  and  design.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  inquiry  into  types  of  association,  such  as  Galton  was 
the  first  to  conduct  on  a  large  scale,  seems  full  of  promise,  especially 
so  far  as  color  and  number  symbolism  are  concerned.  The  contention 
that  an  apparently  very  odd  association  common  to  two  distinct  re- 
gions must  have  travelled  from  one  to  the  other,  must  immediatcK- 
lose  its  force  if  we  find  the  same  association  arising  with  a  certain 
frequency  among  ourselves.  The  objection  might  indeed  be  raised,  that, 
in  order  to  become  a  cultural  phenomenon,  the  individual  association 
would  have  to  be  socialized;  this  would,  however,  apply  in  equal 
measure  on  the  supposition  of  borrowing. 

So  far,  then,  as  the  objectivity  of  the  criteria  is  coiiccriucl.  the 
inferiority  of  the  theory  of  independent  deNelopnieiit  stands  utiproved. 
In  determining  genetic  relationship  on  the  ground  of  formal  resem- 
blance, the  influence  of  the  personal  e(iuation  is  unavoidable;  on  the 
other  harul,  the  arbitrariness  o{  speculations  on  independent  develop- 
ment can  be  limited  l)\'  the  rrsiilt>  of  scientific  (as  oi>j")Osi-d  to  popular) 
psychology. 

If  there  is  anv'  difTereiue  in  the  value  (jf  the  two  theories,  it  must 
rest  on  the  alleged  absence  of  hislf)rical  proofs  for  independent  devcloj)- 
ment,  in  the  face  of  the  universally  admitted  existence  of  such  proofs 
for  historical  connection.  It  remains  to  be  shown  that  this  allegation 
is  erroneous,  that  there  exist  unexceptionable  instances  of  convergent 
evolution.  For  this  purpose  it  is  necessarv'  to  examine  somewhat  nu  re 
closely  the  concept  of  convergence. 


30  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

DKFINITIOX    OF    "CONVERGENCE" 

The  fundamental  error  in  Graebner's  critique  of  convergent  evolu- 
tion lies  in  the  fact  that  it  entirely  ignores  the  group  of  phenomena  to 
which  the  principle  criticised  has  been  most  successfully  applied.  Taking 
into  account  only  Ehrenreich's  definitions  of  "convergence,"  and  disre- 
garding completely  Ehrenreich's  further  remarks  on  the  subject,  Graeb- 
ner  is  led  to  reject  the  theory  because,  for  the  explanation  of  identities, 
it  seems  to  involve  the  assumption  of   a  mystic  psychological   unity 

(p-  145)- 

To  be  sure,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  if  we  found  exact  parallels  of 
very  complicated  phenomena,  their  occurrence  in  two  areas,  no  matter 
how  widely  separated,  could  not  reasonably  be  explained  by  conver- 
gence. Let  us  assume  for  a  moment  that  we  found  on  the  northwest 
coast  of  America  a  social  system  duplicating  such  Australian  elements 
as  four-class  exogamy,  belief  in  lineal  descent  from  the  totem,  elaborate 
rites  for  the  multiplication  of  totems,  and  the  like.  If  this  were  the 
fact,  an  explanation  by  the  psychic  unity  of  mankind  w^ould  be  lament- 
ably deficient,  as  may  readily  be  shown  by  examination  of  a  concrete 
case.  Ehrenreich  writes,  "Wo  gleiche  Geistesanlage  sich  vereint  mit 
Gleichheit  der  Wirtschaftsform  und  der  gesellschaftlichen  Stufe,  wird 
die  Cultur  im  Allgemeinen  tiberall  eincn  gleichen  Charakter,  einen 
gleichen  Typus  tragen,  und  wir  diirfen  uns  nicht  wundern,  wenn  solche 
gleiche  Typen  auch  in  Einzelheiten  grosse  Ubereinstimmung  zeigen 
und  Convergenzen  hcrvorbringen."  ^  Let  us  test  the  explanatory  value 
of  the  principle,  as  thus  defined,  by  a  single  example.  Ehrenreich  finds 
a  surprising  resemblance  between  the  Dukduk  masks  of  New  Britain 
and  the  Fish-Dance  masks  of  the  Karaya,  as  well  as  between  the 
correlated  usages.  Granting  the  resemblance,  nay,  even  the  exact 
identity,  of  the  features  in  question,  what  meaning  can  we  associate 
with  the  statement  that  the  parallel  is  due  to  psychic  resemblance 
linked  with  like  economic  and  sociological  conditions?  The  identity 
to  be  explained  is  not  found  except  among  the  two  above-mentioned 
representatives  of  two  distinct  racial  types.  What  are  the  psychic 
traits  and  cultural  conditions  common  to  these  two  tribes,  which  are 
not  shared  by  those  of  their  jf^eo (graphical  neighbors  and  racial  congeners 
lacking  the  cultural  homologies  tinder  discussion?  The  principle  of  con- 
tinuity is  in  fact  not  less  essential  to  a  sane  theory  of  independent 
development  than  to  a  sane  theory  of  transmission.  There  is  at  least 
no  logical  difficulty  in  assuming  that  certain  laws  of  evolution  are 
immanent  in  human  society,  and  must  lead  everywhere  to  the  same 
results.     But  to  say  that  psychic  affinity  and  cultural  similarity  have 

'  "Zur  Frage  der  Bcurthcilung  und  Bcwerthung  cthnographischer  Analogicn,"  Cor- 
respondenz-Blail  der  deulschen  Cesellschaft  fur  Anthropologic,  Rthnologie  und  Urgeschichte. 
1903,  pp. 176-180. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology  31 

produced  in  two  or  in  a  few  instances  the  same  result,  is  logically  ad- 
missible only  if  it  be  shown  at  the  same  time  for  what  specific  reasons 
the  same  result  is  not  noticeable  in  all  other  cases,  even  where  psychic 
affinity  is  re-enforced  by  racial  relationship,  and  cultural  affinity  by 
geographical  and  historical  contact.  So  far,  then,  as  Graebner's  at- 
tack is  directed  against  Ehrenreich's  explanation  of  supposed  identities, 
it  is  entirely  justified  :  such  an  explanation  is  indeed  nothing  but  a  mys- 
tification.    Granted  the  existence  of  identities,  they  are  inexplicable. 

But  the  entire  aspect  of  the  question  changes  if  we  do  not  interpret 
the  given  parallels  as  identical  or  homologous,  but  merely  as  analogous. 
In  the  brief  but  profound  paper  quoted  above,  Ehrenreich  has  treated 
this  problem  with  the  greatest  possible  clearness.  Over  and  above 
what  he  regards  as  genuine  convergences,  he  distinguishes  "false 
analogies,"  due  to  the  inadequacy  of  our  knowledge,  to  the  premature 
classification  of  diverse  traits  under  the  same  concept,  labelled  with 
the  same  catch-word.  It  is  merely  necessary  to  conceive  all  parallels 
of  any  degree  of  complexity  as  "false  analogies,"  —  to  explain  them 
as  Ehrenreich  himself  explains,  in  exemplary  manner,  the  various  forms 
of  totemism,  of  the  belief  in  metempsychosis,  of  the  swastika  and 
eye-ornament,  —  and  the  mystical  element  in  the  theory  of  conver- 
gence disappears.  The  observation  of  similarities,  especially  in  the 
absence  of  obvious  paths  of  diffusion,  then  leads  directly  to  the  (juery 
whether  the  similarities  are  not  purely  classificatory,  and  hence,  from 
the  standpoint  of  genetic  relationship,  illusory. 

In  a  review  of  Graebner's  recent  book,'  which  has  been  published 
since  the  writing  of  the  preceding  paragraphs,  Professor  Boas  says, 
"Nobody  claims  that  convergence  means  an  absolute  identity  of 
phenomena  derived  from  heterogeneous  sources;  but  we  think  we  have 
ample  pr(jof  to  show  that  the  most  diverse  ethnic  pluiionuna,  when 
subject  to  similar  psychical  conditions,  or  wlun  ritVrriiii;  to  similar 
activities,  will  give  similar  results  (not  ecjual  results),  which  we  group 
naturally  under  the  same  category  when  viewed,  not  from  an  historic.il 
standpoint,  but  from  that  of  psychology,  technology,  or  other  siinil.ir 
standpoints.  The  i)roljlem  oi  convergence  lies  in  the  correct  inter- 
pretation of  the  signifiiance  of  ethnic  phenomena  that  are  ajiparently 
identical,  i)Ut  in  man\'  respects  distinct;  and  also  in  the  tendency  of 
distinct  [)henomena  to  become  psychologically  similar,  due  to  the 
shifting  of  some  of  their  concomitant  ek-ments  —  as  when  the  reason 
for  a  taboo  shifts  froin  the  groimd  of  religious  avoidance  to  that  of 
mere  custom"  (/.  c,  p.  807).  As  is  shown  by  a  preceding  (|Uotation 
from  Ehrenreich,  Professor  Boas  goes  too  far  in  his  initial  st.itemenl, 
for  Ehrenreich's  conception  of  genuine  convergence  docs  practically 
involve  a  belief  in  an  absolute  identity  deri\e(l  from  heterogeneous 

'   Scirncf.  101  I,  pp.  804   810. 


32  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

sources;  but  his  utterance  indicates  that  in  America,  at  all  events, 
convergence  has  been  treated  in  a  manner  which  entirely  escapes 
Graebner's  attention. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  discuss  convergence  as  resulting  from  modes 
of  classification,  to  show  what  form  of  classification  gives  rise  to  the 
appearance  of  identical  results  from  diverse  sources,  and  to  illustrate 
the  point  by  a  number  of  special  instances. 

PREMATURE   CLASSIFICATION 

Premature  classification  appears  in  ethnological  literature  in  two 
principal  forms:  the  ethnologist  may  either  infer  from  the  undoubted 
identity  of  certain  elements  in  two  different  complexes  that  the  com- 
plexes themselves  are  identical ;  or  he  may  fancy  identity  of  elements 
or  complexes  where  none  exists.  The  first  type  of  premature  classifi- 
cation has  wrought  considerable  mischief  in  the  consideration  of 
ceremonial  complexes,  such  as  the  Midewiwin  and  the  Sun  Dance. 
The  psychology  of  this  fallacy  is  not  unlike  that  of  illusions.  A  com- 
plex such  as  the  Midewiwin  is  described  for  some  particular  tribe;  and 
some  conspicuous  feature,  say,  the  shooting-ritual,  acquires  a  symbolic 
function;  so  that  whenever  this  feature  appears  in  another  tribe,  it  is 
at  once  supposed  to  indicate  the  presence  of  the  residual  elements  of 
the  complex  first  described.  This  would  indeed  be  a  justifiable  infer- 
ence, if  a  complex  invariably  represented  a  quasi-organic  unit;  but 
this  is  precisely  what  is  not  ordinarily  the  case.  For  example,  Dr. 
Radin  has  recently  shown  '  that  the  Midewiwin  of  the  Winnebago  and 
that  of  the  Central  Algonkin  are  not  identical,  because  in  each  there 
has  been  a  secondary  association  between  the  common  elements  and  a 
preponderant  group  of  specific  elements,  which  in  large  measure  can 
be  shown  to  result  from  the  specific  character  of  Central  Algonkin 
and  Winnebago  culture  respectively.  I  have  suggested  elsewhere'^ 
that  what  Dr.  Radin  has  successfully  demonstrated  for  the  Midewiwin 
applies  in  like  measure  to  the  Sun  Dance  of  the  Plains  tribes.  We  can- 
not reduce  to  a  common  prototype  the  various  forms  in  which  the 
ceremonies  grouped  under  this  catch-word  appear.  All  we  can  do  is  to 
ascertain  the  relatively  few  common  elements  which  have  acquired 
the  symbolic  function  mentioned,  and  to  investigate  their  varying 
combinations  in  different  cases. 

It  is  clear  that  the  form  of  erroneous  classification  treated  above, 
however  large  it  may  loom  in  ethnological  discussion,  has  nothing  to 
do  with  convergent  evolution;  for  in  the  cases  mentioned  the  genetic 

'  "  The  Ritual  and  Significance  of  Uie  Winnebago  Medicine  Dance,"  Journal  of  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxiv  (191 1).  PP-  149-208. 

2  "The  Assiniboine,"  Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  vol.  iv,  Pt.  I,  pp.  77  etseq. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology 


:>.•< 


relationship  of  the  identical  features  has  never  been  challenged,  while 
apart  from  these  features  there  is  obvious  diver  gen  ce .  It  is  Ehrenreich's 
group  of  "false  analogies"  that  supplies  us  with  illustrations  of  the 
second  type  of  classificatory  error,  and  this  has  a  direct  bearing  on  the 
principle  of  con\ergencc. 

Comparing  the  two  types  of  inadequate  classification,  we  may  say 
that  the  first  type  involves  the  assumption  that  an  organic  relationship 
exists  where  it  does  not  exist,  while  the  second  type  of  error  results 
from  the  failure  to  note  that  the  supposedly  parallel  elements  are 
organically  related  to  two  distinct  complexes.  In  this  latter  case,  then, 
the  parallelism  is  between  logical  abstractions  rather  than  between 
l)sychological  and  ethnological  realities.  Some  concrete  illustrations 
will  make  the  matter  clearer. 

Owing  to  their  theoretical  interest,  the  so-called  age-societies  of  the 
Plains  may  properly  serve  to  introduce  the  subject.  J.  O.  Dorsey 
reports  that  among  the  Omaha  there  were  three  feasting  societies, 
composed  of  old  men,  middle-aged  men,  and  youths  respectively.  In 
tribes  of  the  same  cultural  area  (Arapaho,  Blackfoot,  Mandan, 
Hidatsa)  other  writers  have  found  series  of  dancing  societies  evincing 
a  more  refined  classification  by  age,  admission  into  any  one  society 
being  contingent  on  a  payment.  Schurtz  assumes  that  the  existence 
of  age-grades  among  the  Omaha  and  other  Plains  tribes  is  due  to  an 
innate  tendency  of  human  society  towards  an  age-grouping,  which  leads 
ever>where  to  similar  results.  From  Graebner's  point  of  view,  the 
existence  of  so  marked  a  feature  as  age-grades  in  a  practically  con- 
tinuous area  must  be  explained  as  due  to  historical  connection.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  here  applied  the  principle  of  convergence  in  the 
sense  defined  by  Ehrenreich,  we  should  say  that  the  resemblance  be- 
tween the  Omaha  age-classes  and  the  age-societies  of  the  other  Plains 
tribes  is  due  to  the  union  of  general  psychic  and  specific  cultural 
similarities  of  all  the  tribes  concerned. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  each  of  these  three  interpretations  is  erroneous. 
The  Omaha  feasting  organizations  are  age-classes  properly  so-called; 
that  is  to  say,  a  man  belongs  to  one  of  the  three  classes  by  virtue  of  his 
age.  Rut  the  fact  that,  say,  the  Hidatsa  societies  present  the  appear- 
ance of  age-classes,  is  due  to  the  mode  of  purchase  obtaining  in  this 
tribe.  The  age  factor  is  indeed  active,  inasmuch  as  it  is  customary  for 
age-mates  to  purchase  a  society  in  a  body;  but  there  is  no  est.iblished 
division  of  Hidatsa  society  into  age-grades,  no  correlation  between 
age  and  membership  in  a  certain  definite  organization.  The  correla- 
tion is,  instead,  between  membershi|)and  purchase:  an  Hidatsii  belongs 
to  every  society  of  the  series  which  he  has  |)urchased,  but  which  has 
never  been  purchased  of  him.  A  man  of  ninety  may  thus  hold  mem- 
bership in  a  young  men's  society,  iind  undrr  abnormal  circumstances  a 

\oi..  xx\'.      Ni)   <>;        i 


34  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

group  of  men  may  acquire  a  iiK'nibership  which  ranks  superior  to 
that  of  an  older  age-group.  To  call  both  the  Omaha  and  the  Hidatsa 
organizations  "age-societies"  is  therefore  admissible  only  if  we  regard 
this  term  as  a  convenient  catch-word  which  may  denote  neither 
psychologically  nor  genetically  related  phenomena.  The  age-factor 
that  we  isolate  in  studying  the  Hidatsa  system  is,  of  course,  as  a 
logical  abstraction  comparable  to  corresponding  abstractions,  whether 
derived  from  the  Omaha  system  or  that  of  the  Masai.  In  reality, 
however,  it  forms  part  of  a  context  which  determines  it,  and  from  which 
it  cannot  be  wrested  without  completely  altering  its  character.  What 
we  find  in  comparing  the  Omaha  and  the  Hidatsa  systems  is  therefore 
a  convergence  of  a  type  different  from  that  defined  by  Ehrenreich, 
but  coinciding  absolutely  with  that  of  his  "false  analogies,"  which 
result  from  our  relative  ignorance  of  the  phenomena  compared.  So 
long  as  we  knew  only  that  the  Hidatsa  had  societies  composed  of  men 
of  different  ages,  it  was  possible  to  classify  them  as  age-grades  proper. 
With  the  additional  knowledge  of  the  subjective  attitude  of  the  natives 
towards  these  societies,  the  justification  for  such  a  classification 
disappears. 

What  has  just  been  shown  for  age-grades  may  be  similarly  shown  for 
the  much-discussed  phenomenon  labelled  "exogamy."  It  has  com- 
monly been  assumed  that  the  regulation  against  marriage  within  a 
certain  group,  no  matter  in  what  part  of  the  globe  such  a  regulation 
may  be  found,  is  uniformly  the  same  in  principle.  Dr.  Goldenweiser 
has  recently  shown  that  this  is  by  no  means  the  case.  Clan  exogamy 
may  indeed  be  the  expression  of  the  feeling  that  marriage  within  the 
clan  as  such  is  incestuous;  but  it  may  also,  as  among  the  Toda  and 
Blackfoot,  be  a  secondary  development,  the  fundamental  fact  being  an 
objection  to  marriages  between  blood  relatives.  From  Dr.  Graebner's 
standpoint  there  is  no  reason  to  differentiate  between  the  primary  and 
the  secondary  type  of  clan  exogamy.  The  form-criterion  merely  tells 
us  that  two  groups  are  both  exogamous;  that  in  point  of  exogamy  they 
are  identical,  and  in  so  far  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  be  genetically 
related.  So  far  as  the  criterion  of  quantity  is  concerned,  nothing 
would  be  easier  than  to  bolster  up  the  parallel  exogamy  by  other  re- 
semblances. Thus,  the  Crow  social  units,  which  exemplify  the  clan 
of  "classical"  ethnological  literature  in  being  exogamous  in  their  own 
right,  bear  nicknames  of  similar  type  to  that  of  the  Blackfoot.  Here 
again  the  identity  of  the  facts  compared  is  logical,  while  the  facts  we 
are  really  interested  in  studying  are  psychological.  The  exogamous 
conduct  of  the  Blackfoot  is  inseparably  linked  with  his  feeling  towards 
blood  relatives;  the  exogamous  conduct  of  the  Crow  is  part  of  a  quite 
distinct  psychological  complex.  Only  by  disregarding  the  character- 
istic features  of  exogamy  in  these  two  instances  do  we  get  an  identical 
Gedankending. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology  35 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  discuss  the  two-phratry  system 
(Ziveiklassensystem),  as  Graebner  himself  makes  an  extensive  use  of 
this  concept,  suggesting,  for  instance,  an  historical  connection  between 
the  two-phratry  organization  of  Oceania  and  that  of  the  Northwest 
Coast  Indians  and  the  Iroquois.'  Before  considering  such  a  sugges- 
tion, we  should  have  to  be  convinced  that  the  term  "two-phratry 
system"  invariably  labels  the  same  phenomenon.  Serious  doubt  is 
thrown  on  such  a  supposition  by  a  consideration  of  the  data  collected 
by  Rivers  among  the  Toda.  In  this  tribe  the  numerical  preponderance 
of  one  clan  is  such,  that  its  members  can  follow  the  exogamous  rule 
only  by  marrying  most  of  the  members  of  the  other  clans,  "leaving 
very  few  to  intermarry  with  one  another."  Out  of  177  marriages, 
only  16  were  between  members  of  the  other  clans.  As  Rivers  recog- 
nizes, there  has  thus  developed  the  closest  conceivable  approximation 
to  a  two-phratry  system.-  Yet  this  result  has  been  achieved  by  unique 
historical  causes  quite  distinct  from  those  which  brought  about  such  a 
system  where  there  are  merely  two  intermarrying  phratries  without 
any  lesser  exogamous  units. 

An  instance  of  similar  suggestiveness  is  furnished  by  the  recent 
history  of  the  Crow.  A  visitor  to  this  tribe  some  forty  years  ago 
would  have  found  the  male  members  of  the  tribe  grouped  in  two 
social  units,  —  the  Foxes  and  the  Lumpwoods.  Without  any  real 
feeling  of  mutual  hostility,  these  two  units  were  constantly  pitted 
against  each  other;  for  example,  taking  opposite  sides  at  games,  and 
constantly  attempting  to  outdo  each  other  in  warlike  deeds.  To  a 
superficial  observer  this  division  would  have  appeared  similar  to 
that  of  the  Iroquois  phratries,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Lump- 
woods  and  F"oxes  were  not  social  units  with  inheritable  membership, 
but  military  societies.  At  all  events,  even  a  more  careful  investi- 
gator might  have  been  struck  by  the  phenomenon  as  one  comparable 
with  the  tendency  to  the  formation  of  dual  di\isions,  as  evidenced  in 
civilized  life  by  the  frequency  of  two  dominant  political  parties. 
Nevertheless,  forty  years  prior  to  the  hypothetical  investigator's 
advent,  he  would  have  found  no  less  than  eight  societies  of  the  same 
type.'  A  detailed  study  of  the  development  of  military  societies 
among  the  Crow  shows  beyond  a  doubt  that  the  presence  of  but  two 
military  organizations  forty  years  ago  was  not  due  to  a  primary  du.il 
organization,  but  came  about  solely  through  the  elimination  of  the 
other  organizations.  A  comparison  of  the  Crow  coiulilions  with  those 
still  more  recently  found  among  the  Gros  Ventre  is  of  the  utmost 
interest.      In  this  tribe  the  old  ceremonial  grouping  of  the  men  in  a 

'  Anlhropo%.  iv.  p.  loji. 

*  "Tolcmism,  an  Analytical  Stiuly."  Journal  of  A  tnrrican  Folk-Ijort.  vol.  xxiii.  p.  346. 

•  Maximilian  Prinz  zu  Wiod,  Keise  in  das  innere  Sord-Amrrita  im  dm  Jahrrn  iSjj  bis 
1834  (Coblcnz,  i8j9).  v.  i,   p.  401. 


36  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

rather  hirye  number  of  small  companies  represeniing  probably  six 
age-grades  has  been  completely  superseded  by  a  division  into  two 
organizations,  —  the  War  Dancers  and  the  Star  Dancers.  The  tribal 
and  social  functions  of  these  societies  bear  close  resemblance  to  those 
exercised  by  the  Lumpwoods  and  Foxes  of  the  Crow,  and  the  spirit 
of  rivalry  is  eciually  prominent  in  the  Gros  \'entre  organizations. 
But  while  the  dual  grouping  of  the  Crow  men  resulted  from  a  process 
of  elimination,  precisely  the  reverse  process  took  place  among  the 
(iros  Ventre.  The  War  Dance  "is  universally  stated  to  be  a  recent 
importation  from  the  Sioux,  apparently  within  the  present  genera- 
tion; "  while  the  Star  Dance  is  probably  an  old  ceremony  independent 
of  the  age-series.'  In  the  two  cases  under  discussion,  then,  a  dual 
grouping  is  beyond  a  doubt  the  result  of  convergent  development. 

To  revert  to  Graebner's  own  concepts,  we  may  next  consider  his 
category  of  drums  with  skin  drum-heads."^  He  is  careful  to  enumerate 
the  several  Oceanian  forms;  but  as  soon  as  his  extra-Oceanian  specu- 
lations begin,  differences  of  form  seem  to  become  negligible.  The 
skin  drum  of  the  West  African  culture-area  is  described  as  one  of  the 
elements  connecting  it  with  Melanesian  culture.  It  is  said  to  appear 
with  all  the  characteristic  modes  of  securing  the  drum-head,  —  viz.,  by 
thongs,  pegs,  and  wedges,  —  though  the  hourglass  shape  of  the  instru- 
ment is  less  frequent.* 

Probably  it  would  be  difificult  to  find  a  more  offensive  example  of 
the  misapplication  of  the  form-criterion.  The  ver>'  reference  to  the 
hourglass-shaped  forms  of  Africa  involves  an  error  of  the  worst  kind. 
Graebner's  authority  defines  the  hourglass  drum  of  Africa  as  composed 
of  two  skin-covered  bowls  connected  by  a  cylindrical  tube.  Three 
sub-types  are  distinguished,  of  which  two  recall  the  shape  of  a  dumb- 
bell, while  the  third  differs  radically  from  the  two  others  by  the 
presence  of  four  lugs  and  profuse  decoration,  and  by  the  width  of 
the  connecting  cylinder,  which  approximates  that  of  the  bowls. ^ 
For  convenience  of  description,  Ankermann  is  certainly  justified  in 
creating  an  hourglass  type.  But  it  would  be  unjustifiable  to  draw 
any  inference  as  to  genetic  relations  between  the  third  and  the  two 
other  sub-types;  for  quite  apart  from  the  elaborate  decoration  and 
the  four  lugs,  the  third  sub-type  is  not  at  all  similar  to  the  dumb-bell 
form.     It  is  a  psychological  commonplace  that  e\en  congruous  geo- 

'  Krueber,  "Ethnology  of  the  Gros  \'entrc."  Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  v.  i,  pp.  234-239. 

'  "Ein  Element  von  schr  typischcr  \'erbreitung  hietcn  zum  Schlussc  noch  die  Musik- 
instrumente  in  dcr  einseitig  bespannlen,  nieist  sanduhrformigen,  bisweilen  zylindrischen 
I-elltrommel"  (Anthropos,  iv,  p.  770). 

'  Ibid.,  pp.  loii  et  scq. 

*  Ankermann,  "Die  afrikanischen  Musikinstrumente,"  Ethnologisches  Notizblall,  1901. 
vol.  iii.  pp.  08  et  seq..  53-55- 


On  the  Principle  oj  Convergence  in  Ethnology  37 

metrical  forms  may  produce  ver\'  different  psychological  effects.  It  is 
a  fact  known  to  field-workers  in  America  that  identical  patterns  are 
sometimes  not  recognized  by  the  natives  as  identical  if  executed  in 
different  colors.  A  fortiori,  we  cannot  assume  without  proof,  that, 
where  the  divergence  of  form  is  very  great,  the  native  still  assembles 
the  vanning  forms  under  the  same  concept.  Artifacts  differ  from 
organic  forms  in  lacking  an  innate  tendency  to  variability.  If, 
therefore,  we  suppose  that  the  lugged  (Barotse-Amboella)  sub-type 
developed  out  of  the  dumb-bell  form,  or  vice  versa,  we  introduce 
either  the  hypothesis  that  some  external  condition  determined  the 
change,  or  the  psychological  hypothesis  that  both  forms  were  origi- 
nally conceived  as  of  one  type.  For  neither  of  these  suppositions  is 
there  the  slightest  foundation. 

If  the  foregoing  argument  applies  w  ithin  even  a  relatively  continuous 
area,  its  force  surely  does  not  diminish  when  "hourglass  drums"  of 
different  continents  are  compared.  Indeed,  the  hourglass  drum  ^){ 
New  Guinea,  as  described  and  pictured  by  P^insch,  Bir6,  Schlagin- 
haufen,  and  others,  bears  no  resemblance  to  the  African  sub-types. 
We  must  regard  the  term  "hourglass  drum"  as  merely  a  convenient 
classificatory  device  by  which  may  be  described  objects  of  diverse 
origin.  The  geometrical  abstraction  defined  by  the  term  corresponds 
to  no  cultural  reality;  it  develops  in  different  areas  by  cf)nvergcnt 
evolution. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  hourglass  type  which  at  least  presents  a 
semblance  of  morph(jlogical  classification  plays  a  very  subordinate 
part  in  Graebner's  treatment  of  the  skin  drum;  for  under  the  category 
of  skin  drums  —  and  accordingly  as  evidence  of  a  cultural  connection 
between  Oceania  and  North  America  —  are  cited  the  ordinary  dancing- 
drum  and  the  Midewiwin  drum  of  the  Ojibwa.'  Thus  the  form- 
criterion  is  completely  abandoned  by  its  champion. 

It  is  true  that  Dr.  (iraebner,  in  his  treatment  of  this  subject, 
attaches  considerable  weight  to  the  method  of  securing  the  drum- 
head, —  whether  by  thongs,  pegs,  or  wedges  (Schnur-,  Pjlock-  umi  Keil- 
spannunfi).  This  leads  to  an  imporlani  <|uesti()n.  How  many  ways  of 
fastening  a  skin  membrane  to  a  drum  arc  conceivable i*  Very  little 
reflection  is  rc(|uired  to  show  that  the  number  is  exceedingly  limited. 
Indeed,  the  wedge  system,  being  only  a  sub-type  of  the  S(  hnitrspatniuti^, 
is  not  entitled  to  a  special  position  on  logical  grounds,  though  from  a 
comparative  point  of  view  it  is  incomparably  the  s;ifest  criterion  of 
relationsliip.  We  must  here  apjily  what  Dr.  Goldenweiser  has  called, 
in  (onversation  with  the  author,  "the  principle  of  limitctl  possibilities," 
which  has  recently  been  thus  defined:  "The  theory  of  tx)nvergcnce 
claims  that  similar  ways  rtiay  (not  must)  be  found.      This  would  be  a 

'  Anlkrvpos,  iv,  p.  103 1. 


38  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

truism  if  there  existed  only  one  way  of  solving  this  problem;  and  con- 
vergence is  obviously  the  more  probable,  the  fewer  the  possible  solu- 
tions of  the  problem."  ^  In  the  case  at  hand,  it  cannot  be  taken  as  a 
sigh  of  genetic  connection  that  some  African  and  some  Oceanian  tribes 
use  pegs  for  fastening  a  drum-head,  because  the  number  of  available 
ways  is  very  small  if  classified  in  a  manner  that  abstracts  from  all  definite 
characteristics. 

This  point  is  illustrated  most  clearly  where  the  logical  classification 
involves  a  dichotomy  of  the  universe.  A  well-known  writer  has  dis- 
cussed the  origin  myths  of  primitive  folk,  and  found  that  some  involve 
a  theory  of  evolution,  others  one  of  special  creation.  No  sane  ethnolo- 
gist would  infer  from  this  that  all  the  myths  of  either  type  were  his- 
torically connected.  To  choose  a  somewhat  more  drastic  illustration. 
Acquired  biological  traits  must  either  be  inherited  or  not  inherited: 
consequently  an  expression  of  opinion,  whether  consciously  or  un- 
consciously bearing  on  the  subject,  must  fall  into  either  category. 
Many  primitive  tribes  have  myths  recounting  how  in  the  remote  past 
a  certain  animal  met  with  some  adventure  which  caused  it  to  assume 
some  biological  peculiarity  now  noticeable  in  its  descendants;  never- 
theless it  would  be  absurd  to  accept  this  tacit  assumption  of  trans- 
mission as  a  parallel  of  anti-Weismannism.  Countless  examples  of  a 
mode  of  classification  rivaling  in  absurdity  the  hypothetical  instance 
last  cited  are  furnished  by  histories  of  philosophy.  Too  frequently 
the  historian  utterly  neglects  the  processes  by  which  conclusions  are 
reached,  and  groups  thinkers  exclusively  by  the  nature  of  their  con- 
clusions, which  are  labelled  by  descriptive  catch-words.  The  identi- 
fication of  a  philosopher  as  a  monist  or  dualist,  idealist  or  realist,  is 
undoubtedly  a  labor-saving  mode  of  characterization;  but  unfor- 
tunately it  precludes  a  deeper  comprehension  of  the  thinker's  philo- 
sophic individuality.  A  differentiation  of  social  systems  on  the  basis 
of  maternal  and  paternal  descent,  such  as  Graebner  has  undertaken,  is 
justifiable  within  a  limited  area,  where  historical  connections  can  be 
definitely  demonstrated.  Outside  such  an  area  it  can  have  no  com- 
parative significance,  because  descent  cannot  be  reckoned  otherwise 
than  in  either  the  maternal  or  the  paternal  line,  or  in  both. 

THE    POSSIBILITY   OF   GENUINE   CONVERGENCE 

The  foregoing  discussion  has  indicated  the  nature  of  the  errors  due 
to  premature  classification.  The  frequency  of  such  errors,  and  the 
readiness  with  which  they  are  committed,  surely  justify  the  greatest 
caution  in  identifying  apparent  homologies  in  the  cultures  of  tribes 
not  known  to  be  historically  related.  The  first  question  we  must  ask 
is,  not  how  the  trait  could  have  travelled  from  one  region  to  another, 

*  Boas,  in  Science,  191 1,  p.  807. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology  39 

nor  even  whether  it  could  have  originated  independently  through  the 
psychic  unity  of  mankind.  Our  first  duty  is  rather  to  ascertain 
whether  the  resemblances  are  superficial  or  fundamental.  For  ex- 
ample, if  we  discover  that  the  manang  ball  of  the  Sea  Dyaks  corre- 
sponds in  the  most  striking  manner  to  the  berdache  of  the  Plains 
Indians,'  we  should  not  straightway  identify  the  two  institutions 
and  invoke  the  principle  of  psychic  unity  or  that  of  historical  connec- 
tion. Psychic  unity  would  only  explain  the  fact  of  a  pathological 
variation,  which  seems  to  occur  everywhere  with  a  certain  frequency. 
It  does  not  explain  why  in  but  two  particular  areas  this  variation 
should  lead  to  a  marked  social  institution.  Neither  can  historical 
connection  be  postulated  in  the  absence  of  a  tittle  of  evidence  for  either 
genetic  relationship  or  transmission.  The  advocate  of  convergence 
in  the  sense  here  proposed  will  simply  await  a  fuller  determination  of 
the  facts.  If  closer  investigation  should  establish  an  absolute  identity, 
the  fact  of  identity  would  stand,  but  would  stand  unexplained. 

But  in  many  instances  the  identity  of  the  cultural  elements  com- 
pared seems  to  be  far  more  than  an  abstract  possibility.  The  eye- 
ornament  of  the  northwest  coast  of  America  is  identical  with  that  of 
Melanesia.  For  all  practical  purposes  the  star-shaped  stone  club- 
heads  of  New  Guinea  are  identical  with  those  from  Peru.  To  put  the 
case  in  the  most  general  form,  wherever  we  are  dealing  with  objects 
which  can  be  fully  determined  by  an  enumeration  of  their  visible  or 
sensible  traits,  there  is  the  possibility  of  proving  objective  identity,  as 
indicated  by  the  examples  just  cited.  However,  there  is  an  important 
consideration  which  cannot  be  neglected  in  this  connection.  The 
sensible  traits  of  an  ethnographic  object  may  completely  determine  its 
character  from  the  standpoint  of  the  curiosity-dealer,  but  never  from 
that  of  the  scientific  ethnologist.^  For  the  latter  a  material  object  has 
a  purely  symbolical  function:  it  represents  a  certain  technique,  an 
artistic  style,  a  religious  or  social  usage.  In  this  sense  it  may  be  rightly 
said  that  "material"  culture  docs  not  exist  for  the  ethnologist,  for 
the  very  word  "culture"  implies  a  psychological  correlate,  or  rather 
determinant,  of  the  material  object.  According  to  Pcchuel-Locschc, 
the  same  representation  of  a  luiman  figure  that  in  one  West  .African 
specimen  is  nothing  but  a  product  of  art  industry,  becomes,  when 
endowed  with  certain  magical  powers  by  virtue  of  incantations  or  the 
application  of  sacred  subslaiues,  a  fetich.  Exactly  the  same  purposr, 
however,  may  be  served  in  the  same  tribes  by  the  most  inconspicuous 
objects  of  nature.  A  purely  oi)jectivc  comparison  would  here  lead 
to   an    utterly   erroneous   classirual  ioii.      It    would    wrest    the    factors 

'  GonicH.  Sevrntftn  Yairs  among  the  Sra  Dyaks  u)  H,>rnfn  O'liiladclpliia.  I.ippiiuott. 
191 1 ).  pp.  179  et  !W(i. 

'  Cf.  Boas,  ill  Science,  vol.  xxv  (1907),  p.  oj8. 


40  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

studied  out  ol  ihcir  organic  context  in  (iiiitc  the  same  way  as  an  identi- 
fication of  the  cultural  traits  discussed  in  the  preceding  section;  it 
would  nejilect  the  very  factors  that  we  are  most  interested  in  studying. 

As  has  been  pointed  out  by  American  archaeologists,  the  application 
of  the  form-criterion  is  insufficient  in  determining  the  antiquity  of  an 
archaeological  object;  for  the  latter  may  not  be  at  all  the  completed 
object  designed  by  the  worker,  but  a  mere  "reject."  ^  Yet  objectively 
the  rejects  coincide  absolutely  with  the  finished  products  of  a  lower 
culture.  The  difference  lies  in  the  cultural  contexts  of  which  the 
objects  are  elements:  the  resemblance  may  be  perfect  from  a  purely 
external  standpoint;  nevertheless  it  represents,  in  Ehrenrcich's  ter- 
minology, not  a  genuine  convergence,  but  a  false  analogy.  A  most 
suggestive  fact  pointing  in  the  same  direction  has  been  ascertained  in 
Central  Australia.  The  natives  of  this  area  use  implements,  some  of 
which  fall  morphologically  under  the  category  of  paleoliths,  while 
others  are  neoliths.  Investigation  has  shown  that  this  morphological 
difference  is  a  direct  result  of  the  material  available  for  manufacture. 
Where  diorite  is  available,  the  natives  manufacture  "  neolithic"  ground 
axes,  in  other  cases  they  make  flaked  implements  practically  as  crude 
as  those  of  the  ancient  Tasmanians.-  The  manufacture  of  "neolithic " 
implements  in  Central  Australia  and  elsewhere  thus  forms  another 
instance  of  convergence,  —  a  classificatory  resemblance  due  to  hetero- 
geneous conditions.  It  is  true  that  Graebner  does  not  ignore  the 
possible  influence  of  material  on  form,^  but  he  fails  to  show  under  what 
circumstances  the  ethnologist  should  seek  to  correlate  morphological 
resemblance  with  the  nature  of  the  material.  The  form-criterion  by 
itself  does  not  tell  us  that  diorite  lends  itself  to  "neolithic"  workman- 
ship, that  bamboo  bows  are  necessarily  flat,  that  basalt  furnishes  the 
only  material  available  for  axe-manufacture  in  certain  regions.  Under 
what  conditions  should  we  be  satisfied  w^ith  formal  coincidence  as  a 
proof  of  genetic  relationship,  and  under  what  conditions  should  we 
inquire  as  to  the  possible  influence  of  the  available  material? 

The  case  of  the  eye-ornament  adds  force  to  the  general  argument. 
As  Graebner  might  have  learned  from  Ehrenrcich's  article  (/.  c,  p.  179), 
Boas  has  shown  that  the  eye-ornament  of  Northwestern  America 
results  from  a  peculiar  style  of  art,  which,  so  far  as  we  know,  does  not 
occur  in  Oceania;  that  is  to  say,  the  objective  identity  is  again  decep- 
tive, because  it  is  an  identity  established  by  wresting  a  part  of  the 
phenomenon  studied  (the  visible  pattern)  from  the  midst  of  its  cultural 
context.  Here  it  must  again  be  stated  that  Graebner  does  not  un- 
qualifiedly uphold   the  omnipotence  of  the  morphological   principle. 

■   Mason,  The  Origins  of  Invention,  p.  124. 

'  Spencer  and  Gillen,  The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,  1904,  p.  635. 

'  Methode  der  FAhnologic,  pi).  145,  117. 


On  the  Principle  of  Convergence  in  Ethnology  4 1 

He  rejects  Von  Luschan's  speculations  on  the  head-rests  of  New- 
Guinea;  he  regards  Schurtz's  theories  of  the  eye-ornament  as  "  vveniger 
phantastisch,  aber  doch  auch  iibcrs  Ziel  geschossen;"  he  stigmatizes 
Stucken's  attempt  to  trace  all  celestial  myths  to  Babylon  as  an 
example  of  the  neglect  or  unmethodical  application  of  the  form- 
criterion  (p.  118).  Unfortunately,  he  does  not  explain  what  is  meant 
by  an  unmethodical  or  fantastic  application  of  the  form-criterion.  As 
has  been  shown,  the  criterion  of  quantity  is  a  measure  of  the  historical 
connection  between  cultures,  but  can  never  decide  as  to  the  identity 
of  doubtful  traits.  If  all  the  other  elements  of  Oceanian  and  north- 
west American  culture  were  identical,  the  fact  would  prove  nothing 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  e>c-ornament  in  the  two  areas. 

We  are  not  always,  indeed  we  are  \cry  rarely,  in  the  fortunate  posi- 
tion of  knowing  most  of  the  determining  conditions  of  an  ethnological 
phenomenon.  In  the  case  of  the  rejects,  of  the  central  Australian 
"neoliths,"  and  of  the  eye-ornament,  we  happen  to  be  in  possession 
of  the  facts;  and  from  these  instances  we  learn  that  morphological 
identity  may  give  presumptive,  but  does  not  give  conclusive,  evidence 
of  genetic  relationship.  It  is  conceivable  that  if  we  could  determine 
the  history  of  the  South  American  paddles,  which  Graebner  connects 
with  Indonesian  and  Melanesian  patterns,'  we  should  find  them  to  be 
genetically  related;  but  we  cannot  bar  the  other  logical  possibility 
of  independent  origin,  for  it  is  likewise  conceivable  that  each  of  the 
homologous  features  of  the  paddles  originated  from  distinct  motives 
and  distinct  conditions. 

CONCLUSION 

The  doctrine  of  convergence,  as  here  advocated,  is  not  dogmatic, 
but  methodological  and  critical.  It  does  not  deny  that  simple  ethno- 
logical phenomena  may  arise  independently  in  different  regions  of  the 
globe,  nor  does  it  deny  that  diffusion  of  cultural  elements  has  played 
an  important  part.  It  does  not  even  repudiate  the  abstract  possibility 
of  the  in(lej)endent  origin  of  complex  phenomena  (genuine  convergence 
of  Khrcnreich),  though  so  far  the  demonstration  of  identities  of  such 
a  character  seems  insufficient,  and  their  existence  would  be  unintelli- 
gible. The  view  here  proixnmded  demands  simply  that  wlure  the 
jirinciplc  of  psychic  unity  cannot  be  applied,  and  where  paths  of 
diffusion  cannot  be  definitely  indicated,  we  must  first  in(|uire  whether 
the  supposed  identities  are  really  such,  or  become  such  only  by  ab- 
stracting from  the  psychological  context  in  which  they  occur,  and  which 
determines  them,  —  whether,  that  is  to  say,  we  arc  comparing  cultural 
realities,  or  merely  figments  of  our  logical  modes  r)f  classification.  .\ 
rapid  survey  of  the  field  has  sufficed  to  show  that  in  many  cases  where 
some  would  invoke  the  principle  of  psychic  unity,  and  others  that  of 
'   Mfthode  dtr  Ethnologie,  p.  145;  Anthropos.  iv.  pp.  763.  1016.  1021. 


42  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

historic  connection,  the  problem  is  an  apparent  one,  which  vanishes 
with  a  better  knowledge  and  classification  of  the  facts. 

Dr.  Graebner's  ambitious  attempt  to  trace  historical  connections 
between  remole  areas  cannot  be  dismissed  wholesale,  on  the  basis  of 
the  foregoing  criticisms.  What  has  been  shown  is  simply  the  necessity 
for  a  critical  use  of  ethnological  concepts,  and  their  occasionally  quite 
uncritical  use  of  Gracbner.  Even  tangible  specimens,  it  appears,  can- 
not be  studied  apart  from  the  culture  of  which  they  are  a  product.  In 
the  investigation  of  social  and  religious  usages,  where  the  subject- 
matter  is  itself  psychological,  the  exclusive  consideration  of  the  form- 
criterion,  to  the  detriment  of  the  subjective  factors  involved,  can  lead 
only  to  disastrous  results.  Ethnology  is  a  relatively  young  science, 
and  it  is  natural  that  the  mode  of  classification  in  vogue  among  ethnolo- 
gists should  have  a  pre-scientific  tang.  But  the  time  has  come  to 
recognize  that  an  ethnologist  who  identifies  a  two-class  system  in 
Australia  with  a  two-class  system  in  America,  or  totemism  among  the 
Northwestern  Indians  with  totemism  in  Melanesia,  sinks  to  the  level 
of  a  zoologist  who  should  class  whales  with  fishes,  and  bats  with  birds. 

American  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
New  York  City. 


Arapaho  Tales  43 


ARAPAHO  TALES 

BY  II.  R.  VOTH 

In  looking  through  some  old  note-books,  the  author  came  across  the 
following  tales  which  were  told  him  by  different  members  of  the  tribe, 
while  he  was  a  missionary  among  the  Arapaho  from  1882  to  1892. 
As  none  of  them  seem  to  have  been  published,  —  at  least  not  in  this 
form,  —  it  was  thought  best  to  publish  them  as  an  addition,  however 
brief,  to  the  valuable  publications  of  Dorsey,  Kroeber,  and  others  on 
the  Arapaho. 

I.    THE  BOY  THAT  WAS   CARRIED  OFF  BY  THE  WIND 

Once  a  man  and  a  woman  had  two  boys:  they  were  twins.  These  boys 
often  took  their  bows  and  arrows  and  went  out  to  hunt.  One  time  when 
they  were  hunting,  they  found  an  eagle's  nest.  The  old  eagles  were  not 
at  home.  The  boys  asked  the  young  eagles  what  kind  of  clouds  generally 
came  when  their  mother  was  angry.  The  young  eagles  said  black  clouds. 
Then  the  boys  cut  oflf  the  heads  of  the  young  eagles;  and  when  they  were 
about  to  cut  off  the  last  one,  the  clouds  got  black,  and  it  began  to  storm. 
The  boys  ran  home.  One  got  into  the  tent,  but  the  other  one  was  taken 
by  the  storm  just  as  he  was  about  to  enter  the  lodge.  The  door  of  the  tent, 
of  which  the  boy  had  taken  hold,  was  also  carried  along.  When  the  boy,  as  the 
wind  carried  him  along,  would  grasp  at  something,  —  for  instance,  the  branch 
of  a  tree,  —  it  would  break  off.  So  the  wind  carried  him  way  off  to  some  other 
camps.  Here  the  wind  dropped  him.  He  was  all  covered  with  dirt.  An 
old  woman,  who  came  to  cut  grass,  found  him.  She  took  him  to  her  tent 
and  took  care  of  him,  and  he  grew  up  to  be  a  young  man. 

One  time  a  little  red  bird  was  sitting  on  the  poles  of  a  tent.  Some  men, 
of  whom  this  young  man  was  one,  tried  to  shoot  it.  One  old  man  said, 
"Whoever  shoots  that  bird  shall  marry  one  of  my  daughters."  All  tried 
hard,  and  this  young  man  hit  it.  Then  a  Raven  came  and  took  that  bird 
away  from  him,  and  showed  it  to  the  father  of  those  girls.  When  the  young 
man  heard  of  it,  he  told  the  peui)le  that  it  was  he  who  shot  the  bird;  and  so 
he  got  the  younger  daughter,  and  the  Raven  the  older  one. 

One  time  the  young  man  went  to  shoot  buffalo,  and  once  he  drove  a 
herd  to  the  camjj.  Many  came  to  take  part  in  the  hunt.  The  Raven 
had  nothing  to  do,  but  (lew  around  and  picked  out  llu-  buffaloes'  eyes. 

When  they  had  killed  the  buffaloes,  the  women  took  lu)me  some  blood 
in  their  shawls  on  their  backs.  Those  tw(j  young  women  were  jealous  of 
each  other  because  one  had  a  nice  man,  and  the  other  a  Raven.  When  the 
Raven's  wife  went  home,  that  young  man  went  and  nil  her  shawl,  so  that 
the  blood  was  spilled  and  the  siiawl  spoiled. 

The  younger  woman  was  nice-looking,  but  her  husband  sometimes  looked 
filthy.  During  the  night,  however,  he  would  gel  handsome  again.  Once 
the  (•oui)le  wanted  to  go  and  get  wood.  The  older  sister  wanted  to  go 
along,  but  the  younger  would  not  allow  her  to  do  so. 


44  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

2.    THE    FROG    AND    THE    WOMAN 

A  woman  once  went  to  a  river  to  get  water.  When  she  dipped  the  water, 
a  frog  jumped  into  the  pail;  and  when  the  woman  got  home,  that  frog  all 
at  once  became  a  man.  He  was  standing  in  the  bucket,  and  then  jumped 
out.  Afterwards  this  man  married  that  woman,  and  after  a  while  they  had 
two  children.  After  this  the  man  once  got  very  hungry  and  ate  up  his  wife, 
after  whicli  he  turned  into  a  frog  again  and  lived  with  the  other  frogs  in 
the  river. 

3.    THE    WOMAN    AND    THE    BUFFALO 

A  woman  went  to  get  water,  and  saw  what  she  thought  was  a  man  standing 
near  the  water.  She  ran  away  with  that  man;  and  after  they  were  gone 
away  a  short  distance,  the  man  turned  into  a  buffalo.  The  woman  then 
wanted  to  return,  but  the  buffalo  would  not  let  her.  She  tried  to  hide  away, 
but  could  not  do  it.  When  they  came  to  the  buffalo-herd,  the  buffaloes 
were  sleeping.  The  woman's  mother  by  this  time  began  to  look  for  her 
daughter.  Her  other  daughter  told  her  that  her  sister  had  run  away.  The 
mother  then  told  a  Mouse  that  she  should  go  under  the  ground  and  hunt 
her  lost  daughter,  and  that  if  she  should  find  her,  she  should  put  her  head 
out  of  the  ground  and  stick  two  arrows  into  the  ground  beside  the  woman, 
so  as  to  mark  the  place  where  she  was  sitting.  In  the  morning,  when  the 
bufifaloes  got  up,  the  (man)  Buffalo  saw  that  his  wife  did  not  get  up,  and 
went  to  hit  her,  but  found  only  her  shawl.  Then  they  followed  her,  but 
could  not  find  her.      She  had  gone  home. 

4.    THE    MAN    WHO    GETS    ADVICE    FROM    THE   SKUNK 

There  was  once  an  Indian  who  had  an  old  rillc  which  he  had  owned  a 
long  time.  He  had  a  wife  and  only  one  child.  Once  they  were  very  hungry, 
but  the  man  had  no  cartridges.  No  other  Indians  were  near.  The  man 
then  went  eastward  and  saw  a  herd  of  reindeer.  Not  having  any  cartridges, 
he  did  not  know  what  to  do.  So  he  prayed  to  the  Skunk,  and  the  Skunk 
told  him  to  take  some  mud  and  mould  it  into  Inillcts.  He  did  so,  put  one 
into  his  gun,  took  aim  at  a  reindeer,  and  shot  and  killed  it.  He  then  went 
back  and  told  his  wife  that  he  had  killed  a  reindeer.  In  the  mean  while 
some  bears  had  taken  the  reindeer  that  he  had  killed.  This  made  the  man 
so  angry  that  he  took  his  knife  and  cut  his  own  throat. 

5.    THE    ORIGIN    OF    THE    PLEIADES 

Once  seven  men  went  on  the  war-path.  A  bear  got  after  them,  and  they 
did  not  know  how  to  escape.  Then  they  took  a  little  ball,  kicked  it  upward, 
and  a  man  ascended  with  it.  This  they  repeated  several  times,  a  man  going 
up  with  every  ball  they  kicked  up.  When  the  last  one  was  about  to  go  up, 
the  bear  was  just  about  to  take  him;  but  he  quickly  kicked  the  ball  and  went 
up  too,  and  those  are  the  seven  stars  iij)  in  the  sky. 

6.    BAD-ROBE    RESURRECTING    A    BUFFALO 

When  the  Arapaho  still  lived  north  in  a  village,  an  Arapaho  named  Bad- 
Robe  wanted  to  make  medicine  to  see  if  he  could  not  get  the  buffalo  to  come. 
He  told  Cedar-Tree  to  go  westward  and  see  if  he  could  not  find  a  buffalo. 


Arapaho  Tales  4; 

Cedar-Tree  went;  and  when  he  had  gone  a  short  distance,  he  saw  some  black 
objects  in  the  distance,  but  could  not  say  whether  they  were  buffaloes  or  not. 
He  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  not  tell  the  Indians  a  lie,  and  say  he 
saw  buffaloes  when  he  was  not  sure  about  it.  All  at  once  he  saw  those 
black  things  fly  up,  and  noticed  that  they  were  ravens.  He  went  back  to 
camp  and  told  the  Indians  about  it.  So  Bad-Robe  would  not  make  medicine, 
but  scolded  Cedar-Tree  for  not  believing  that  what  he  saw  were  buffaloes. 
If  he  had  believed,  they  would  not  have  changed  into  ravens.  One  man 
got  so  angry  at  Cedar-Tree  and  his  failure,  that  he  killed  his  own  wife.  The 
camp  was  then  broken  up,  and  the  Indians  scattered. 

The  mother  of  the  murdered  woman,  her  two  sisters,  and  an  uncle, 
started  in  pursuit  of  the  murderer.  They  pursued  him  a  while,  but  got 
hungry,  so  that  they  had  to  return.  When  they  came  near  their  home, 
they  put  u\)  their  tent  and  staid  there.  One  of  them  was  very  hungry, 
and,  as  they  had  nothing  else  to  eat,  her  folks  cooked  moccasin-soles  for 
her.  Early  in  the  morning  her  uncle  went  west  to  hunt,  but  had  no  bow 
or  gun.  He  met  Bad-Robe,  whom  he  asked  to  loan  him  his  gun  because 
his  folks  were  very  hungry.  Bad-Robe  gave  it  to  him,  and  said  that  in 
the  morning  he  would  be  at  their  tent  and  try  to  find  some  dried  buffalo 
(cadaver).  The  man  whose  name  was  Trying- Bear  went  northwest  and 
found  a  dry  buffalo.  He  went  to  his  tent  and  told  others  about  it.  Bad- 
Robe,  who  was  already  there,  had  a  white  pony.  This  he  painted,  put  a 
buffalo-robe  around  himself  and  a  fine  eagle-feather  on  his  head.  This 
was  in  the  morning.  He  now  started  off  for  that  buffalo  carcass,  telling  the 
uncle,  Trying-Bear,  to  follow  him  after  a  while.  But  the  man  followed  him 
right  away,  because  he  was  curious  to  know  what  would  be  done.  About 
noon  Bad-Robe  got  there.  He  got  off  from  his  pony,  took  his  eagle-feather, 
threw  it  at  the  carcass,  and  all  at  once  it  becajne  alive.  Bad-Robe  then 
turned  around  and  saw  Trying-Bear,  whom  he  told  to  shoot  that 
buffalo,  skin  it,  and  take  everything  eatable  about  it  to  the  camp  and  eat. 

7.    OKK.IN    OF     rut:    BUFI-AI.O 

Once  the  Cheyenne  liverl  at  the  heafl  of  a  stream  wlii(  h  eini)iie(l  into  a 
hole  or  cave.  One  time  they  were  nearly  starving,  and  they  consulted  with 
one  another  as  to  whether  they  ought  not  to  explore  the  cave  once.  No  one 
wanted  to  undertake  it.  At  last  one  got  ready,  painted  himself  up,  and  when 
he  came  to  the  cave,  he  found  two  others  there  ready  to  descend.  He  first 
thought  those  two  only  wanted  to  fool  him;  but  they  said  no.  they  wanted 
to  go  in.  S<j  they  all  three  jumped  in.  Soon  they  came  to  a  diK>r.  Upon 
their  knocking,  an  old  woman  opened  and  asked  what  they  wanted.  They 
i^aid  they  and  their  people  were  starving.  ".Are  you  hungry  too?"  she 
aske<l.  "Yes!" — "See  therel"  and  they  beheld  a  wide  prairie  covered  with 
buffaloes.  She  then  handed  them  a  pan  with  buffalo-meat.  They  thought  that 
was  not  enough  to  satisfy  the  great  hunger  of  even  one  of  them,  but  they 
ate  and  ate  until  they  were  "just  full;"  and  then  the  old  wf>man  sai<l  they 
should  take  what  was  left  and  give  it  to  their  people  in  r.in>|».  and  she  would 
soon  send  I  hem  the  buffalo.  They  did  so.  and  the  whole  camp  had  enouv;h 
of  what  they  brought.  Kverybody  ate  aiul  was  lille<l.  .And  when  tluv 
.tvviilcf  ilii-  ni\t   mnrninp.  they  beheld  around  tli'"'  in-  it  1)it<|>  <if  Im'T  d  . 


46  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

8.    ORIGIN    OF   THE    MEDICINE    ARROWS 

A  long  time  ago  some  Cheyenne  were  out  to  hunt  buffaloes.  When  the 
chase  was  over,  a  number  of  young  men  went  to  tlie  hunting-ground  to 
eat  some  of  the  meat,  such  as  the  kidneys,  liver,  etc.  One  young  man,  seeing 
a  buffalo  yearling  which  one  of  the  chiefs  had  shot,  said  he  wanted  to  have 
the  hide  of  that  yearling,  and  skinned  it.  Soon  the  chief,  who  had  killed 
the  yearling,  came  and  claimed  the  hide.  A  controversy  arose.  All  at 
once  the  boy  took  the  lower  part  of  the  buffalo's  leg  and  clubbed  the  chief 
almost  to  death  with  it.  He  then  ran  to  his  grandmother's  tent,  she  being 
the  only  relative  he  had.  Here  he  lay  down  and  slept.  She  put  the  kettle 
on  the  fire  to  cook  a  meal. 

In  the  morning  the  men  of  the  tribe  came  to  the  lodge  where  the  young 
man  was.  His  grandmother  told  him  about  it.  He  said  he  did  not  care, 
and  remained  in  bed.  They  called  to  him  that  he  should  come  out,  but  he 
would  not  do  it.  They  repeated  the  command,  but  in  vain.  At  last  they 
began  to  cut  up  the  tent.  He  quickly  upset  the  kettle,  pouring  the  boiling 
water  into  the  fire,  and  going  up  into  the  air  with  the  steam  and  ashes  that 
arose.  All  at  once  they  saw  him  way  off,  just  going  over  a  ridge.  They 
followed  him;  but  before  they  overtook  him,  they  saw  him  farther  off  again; 
and  so  it  continued.     They  could  not  get  him. 

The  next  morning  some  women,  going  after  water,  saw  him  under  a  river- 
bank,  and  went  and  told  the  men.  They  went  and  chased  him  again,  but 
in  vain.  When  they  were  upon  his  heels,  they  would  all  at  once  see  him 
way  off.  Sometimes  he  would  disappear,  and  then  re-appear  again  in  a 
different  costume.  The  last  time  he  appeared  dressed  in  a  fine  buffalo-robe 
costume.     He  went  over  a  ridge,  and  they  saw  him  no  more  at  that  time. 

With  that  young  man  the  buffalo  had  disappeared  too,  and  the  Indians 
soon  began  to  starve.  They  finally  had  to  live  mostly  on  mushrooms. 
Once  some  young  men  wandered  away  from  the  camp;  and  all  at  once  they 
saw  a  young  man,  nicely  dressed  in  a  buffalo-robe,  coming  towards  them. 
It  was  the  young  man  who  had  so  mysteriously  disappeared.  He  asked 
them  the  condition  of  the  Indians  in  their  camps,  and  they  told  him  that 
they  were  nearly  starving  and  had  to  live  on  mushrooms.  He  told  them 
to  hunt  a  "dry  buffalo"  (skeleton).  They  did  so;  and  he  hunted  out  of 
the  decayed  remains  the  "book"  of  the  stomach,  and  gave  it  to  them  to  eat. 
He  also  broke  some  of  the  bones,  and,  behold!  there  was  some  marrow  in 
them.  This  he  also  gave  to  them.  He  then  sent  them  to  camp,  and  told 
them  to  tell  the  medicine-men  to  have  a  lodge  ready  for  them  in  the  centre 
of  the  camp.  In  the  evening  he  came,  bringing  with  him  four  arrows 
that  he  had  brought  along.  He  now  made  "arrow-medicine,"  and  sang 
arrow-songs  with  the  chiefs  all  night;  and  in  the  morning  the  buffalo  had 
re-ai)peared,  and  the  Cheyenne  had  plenty  to  eat  again.  Since  that  time  the 
Cheyenne  celebrate  the  "medicine  arrow  medicine,"  which  is  one  of  the 
most  sacred  and  most  severe  medicines.  Later  the  Pawnees  got  two  of 
the  arrows  in  a  war;  one,  however,  the  Cheyenne  recovered  again. 

9.    ON    THE    WAR-PATH 

Five  young  men  and  two  boys  (all  Arapahocs)  once  went  on  the  war- 
path. They  started  from  home  about  noon,  and  travelled  about  ten 
miles,  when  they  stopped  for  the  night.     It  was  dark.     The  leader  asked 


Arapaho  Tales  47 

each  one  to  get  water.  They  all  refused.  At  last  the  youngest  one  went. 
When  coming  near  the  water,  he  was  all  at  once  caught  by  the  leg  by  a 
man  who  had  no  scalp.  It  was  an  Arapaho.  This  man  said,  "Where  do 
you  come  from?" — "Oh,  we  are  just  stopping  here  for  the  night,"  the  boy 
answered.  The  man  then  said  that  the  Pawnee  had  been  fighting  them, 
and  had  killed  many.  The  boy  said,  "Wait,  I  will  just  get  some  water, 
and  then  we  will  go  to  our  camp  together."  When  he  had  gotten  the  water, 
he  helped  the  wounded  man  up,  took  him  close  to  the  camp,  and  carried  the 
water  in.  He  then  asked  the  leader  of  the  party,  "Are  you  strong,  and 
will  you  not  become  frightened  at  anything?"  He  answered,  "I  am  strong, 
and  am  not  afraid  of  anything."  The  boy  then  put  this  same  question  to 
each  one  of  the  party,  and  each  one  answered  the  same  way.  Only  the 
youngest  of  the  party,  the  boy,  said,  "  I  do  not  know,  I  might,  and  might  not. 
This  is  the  first  time  that  I  am  on  the  war-path."  They  were  all  wondering 
why  they  were  asked  these  questions.  The  boy  (who  had  gotten  the  water) 
then  went  out  and  got  the  wounded  man,  and  took  him  into  the  tent.  All 
five  of  the  warriors  became  frightened  and  huddled  together  in  a  heap.  Only 
the  two  boys  proved  to  be  strong.  The  wounded  man  then  told  them  that 
the  Pawnee  had  been  fighting  them,  and  that  his  friends  were  all  lying 
around  there  dead. 

They  prepared  a  supper,  and,  when  they  were  through  eating,  went  to 
sleep.  In  the  morning  the  boy  who  got  that  man  said,  "Now,  my  friends, 
I  thought  you  were  strong  and  would  not  be  frightened,  but  I  see  you  are 
not  strong.  It  would  be  bad  if  we  should  go  and  hunt  up  a  war.  To-morrow 
we  start  back,  because  it  would  be  too  bad  if  other  tribes  should  kill  us  all." 
The  wounded  man  then  said  to  them,  "My  friends,  you  will  have  to  leave 
me  here.  Make  a  strong  hut  for  me  to  sleep  in,  and  get  me  a  good  supply 
of  drinking-water."  So  the  young  men  went  home,  and  the  boy  told 
his  friends  about  them.     The  scalped  man  soon  died. 

10.    THE    ALLIGATOR    BOY 

Once  upon  a  time  some  Indians  moved  to  a  new  place.  After  having 
made  their  camp,  two  boys  were  riding  out  and  got  into  the  woods.  Here 
one  of  them  found  two  large  eggs.  They  did  not  know  what  kind  of  eggs 
they  were.  They  took  them  across  the  river,  where  they  erected  a  small 
tent.  The  younger  boy  said  he  had  once  tasted  big  eggs,  and  then  he  cooked 
these.  After  he  had  cooked  them,  he  offered  one  to  the  larger  boy,  who  re- 
fused to  eat  it.  The  younger  boy  ate  his,  and  in  the  night  he  took  sick. 
He  soon  noticed  that  he  began  having  green  spots  and  small  raised  parts 
all  over  his  body.  He  began  to  cry.  His  brother  said,  "I  told  you  not  to 
eat  that  egg,  but  you  would  not  listen."  By  that  time  the  boy  had  turned 
into  an  alligator,  all  but  the  head.  He  told  the  older  brother,  who  by  this 
time  was  crying  too,  to  go  and  call  his  friends.  This  he  did.  All  came  to 
see  the  unfortunate  hoy.  The  alligator  boy  said,  if  they  ever  wanted  to 
talk  to  him,  they  should  whistle,  and  he  would  then  come  out  from  the  water. 
The  Indians  lh«-n  went  back;  and  the  hoy.  who  now  had  entirely  become  an 
alligator,  went  into  the  water. 


48  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

II.    THE    CANNIBAL    AND   THE    FOX 

A  man  once  went  into  some  tents  and  told  the  women  there  were  many 
plums  across  the  river,  and  they  should  go  and  pick  them.  He  would  stay, 
and  in  the  mean  time  watch  their  babies.  So  they  went;  and  while  they 
were  gone,  the  man  cut  oflf  the  babies'  heads,  and  left  them  in  their  cradle 
swings.  The  bodies  he  took  away.  Presently  the  women  came  back 
and  told  some  of  their  girls  to  go  in  and  see  how  the  babies  were.  They 
came  running  out,  and  said  that  only  the  heads  were  in  the  swings.  The 
women  came  crying;  and  when  they  looked,  they  saw  the  man  at  a  distance. 
They  pursued  him;  and  when  he  saw  them  coming,  he  wished  there  were  a 
big  hole  there.  At  once  the  hole  was  there.  He  ran  into  the  hole;  and 
when  the  women  came  there,  they  sat  around  the  hole  and  cried.  The 
man,  finding  some  paint  in  the  hole,  painted  his  face,  and  then  came  out 
and  asked  them  why  they  were  crying.  The  women,  not  knowing  him, 
said  a  man  had  killed  their  babies,  and  they  thought  he  was  in  that  hole. 
He  came  out,  and  said  they  should  go  in  and  see.  They  did  so;  and  when 
they  were  in  the  hole,  the  man  threw  fire  in,  and  thus  killed  them.  He  then 
got  out  the  bodies,  built  a  large  fire,  laid  the  bodies  around  it,  and  roasted 
them,  in  order  to  eat  them.  Just  then  a  Fox  came  there,  and  said  he  was 
sick  and  wanted  to  get  something  to  eat.  The  man  proposed  to  the  Fox 
that  they  go  on  a  hill  and  then  run  towards  the  fire.  Whoever  should  get 
there  first  should  eat  first.  To  this  the  Fox  agreed;  and  he  got  there  first, 
and  ate  up  all  the  bodies.  When  the  man  got  there,  he  found  nothing,  and 
went  home. 

12.    THE    mother's    head 

At  a  certain  place  there  was  once  a  single  tent,  in  which  lived  a  man  with 
his  wife,  daughter,  and  little  boy.  The  man  always  used  to  paint  his  wife's 
face;  but  every  time  when  she  would  get  water,  the  paint  would  disappear. 
So  one  time  the  man  concluded  that  he  would  go  and  find  out  once  why  his 
wife  always  went  after  water  so  late,  and  why  the  paint  was  always  gone. 
After  he  had  painted  her  again,  she  went  after  water;  and  he  followed  her, 
and  hid  himself  in  the  bushes.  Soon  she  whistled,  and  he  saw  an  alligator 
come  out  of  the  water  and  lick  her  face.  He  at  once  shot  both,  cut  oflf  the 
woman's  head,  took  it  home,  cooked  it,  and  he  and  his  children  ate  of  it. 
The  little  boy  always  said  it  tasted  like  their  mother.  Afterwards  the  man 
told  the  other  Indians  that  the  children  had  eaten  their  mother.  They  at 
once  all  left  the  place,  leaving  the  children  alone.  The  children  followed, 
but  a  head  would  always  roll  after  them;  and  when  they  came  near  to  the 
other  Indians,  the  latter  would  run  away  from  them.  All  at  once  the  children 
came  to  a  river,  laid  a  board  across,  and  walked  over.  The  head  followed 
them;  but  when  it  was  on  the  middle  of  the  board  (i.  e.,  halfway  across), 
they  turned  the  board,  the  head  fell  into  the  water,  and  did  not  follow 
them  any  more. 

The  girl  then  covered  her  face  and  wished  that  she  had  a  nice  house,  a 
lion  and  a  tiger,  and  many  other  things.  When  she  uncovered  her  face, 
the  house  and  many  nice  things  were  there,  and  under  the  bed  were  also  a 
lion  and  a  tiger.  They  then  had  much  meat  to  eat;  and  they  called  the 
Indians,  and  they  came  and  ate.  The  father  of  the  children  also  came,  and 
they  gave  him  meat  to  eat  too.  The  girl  told  the  two  animals  to  kill  their 
father  when  he  went  out  of  the  house,  because  he  had  killed  their  mother 


Arapaho  Tales  49 

and  then  given  them  her  head  to  eat,  and  then  had  accused  them  of  it. 
The  animals  did  as  they  had  been  told.  The  Indians  afterwards  would 
always  come  to  these  children  to  eat. 

13.    THE    BEAR    GIRL 

At  a  certain  place  there  was  once  an  Indian  village.  At  one  time  some 
children  were  playing  some  little  distance  from  camp.  One  girl  had  a 
sister  who  was  a  Bear.  This  Bear  girl  was  playing  with  the  children,  and 
told  her  sister  to  take  their  little  sister  home,  which  was  refused.  The 
Bear  girl  then  scratched  the  face  of  the  one  who  refused  to  take  the  little 
sister  home,  and  said,  if  she  would  tell  their  father  and  mother,  the  dogs 
would  bark,  and  she  would  come  and  tear  up  all  the  tents  and  eat  up  all 
the  people.  The  girl  then  went  and  hid  in  a  dog-tent.  The  Bear  girl  hunted, 
and  at  last  found  her  and  threatened  to  eat  her  up.  But  the  girl  begged  for 
her  life,  and  promised  that  she  would  live  with  the  Bear  girl,  get  water  for 
her,  and  work  for  her;  and  so  the  Bear  girl  let  her  alone.  The  two  then  lived 
together  in  a  big  tent.  One  time,  when  the  girl  was  getting  water,  she  met 
three  men,  who  gave  her  a  rabbit,  and  told  her  to  go  and  give  it  to  the  Bear 
girl,  and  say  to  her  that  she  gave  her  that  rabbit.  The  girl  took  it  home, 
and,  giving  it  to  her  Bear  sister,  said,  "Here,  I  killed  this  rabbit  for  you." 
The  Bear  girl  took  it;  and  while  she  was  cooking  it,  the  three  men  came  and 
placed  themselves,  one  on  the  north,  one  on  the  south,  and  one  on  the  west, 
side  of  the  tent,  and  shot  and  killed  the  Bear  girl.  They  then  took  one  of 
the  Bear  girl's  leg-bones  and  put  it  on  the  girl's  back,  telling  her  if  she  should 
lose  it,  the  Bear  girl  would  come  to  life  again  and  come  after  her.  They  then 
took  the  girl  along;  and  while  they  were  walking  along,  the  girl  lost  the  bone 
three  times.  Every  time  she  would  see  the  Bear  girl  coming  ^t  a  distance, 
but  every  time  she  found  the  bone  again  before  the  Bear  girl  would  overtake 
them.  The  last  time  they  were  just  climbing  up  a  high  mountain  when 
the  Bear  girl  was  near;  and  while  the  travellers  got  on  the  mountain  all  right, 
the  Bear  girl  would  always  roll  back,  and  finally  asked  the  parties  on  the 
mountain  to  come  down,  as  she  would  not  hurt  them.  But  they  staid  on 
the  mountain;  and  finally  the  Bear  girl  went  away,  and  the  party,  including 
the  girl,  went  to  an  Indian  camp  on  the  other  side,  where  they  remained. 

14.    WHY    THE    HEAR    HAS    A   SHORT    TAIL 

Once  an  old  woman  was  walking  by  a  river,  anil  all  at  once  she  saw  a 
red  Fox.  She  said  to  him,  "My  grandson,  come  here!  I  want  to  tell  you 
a  story  about  my  folks  at  home.  I  am  walking  along  here  to  hunt  my  grand- 
son, and  I  have  been  very  lonesome  for  my  grandson,  and  at  last  I  see  him. 
Now,  come  here  and  sit  down  by  my  side,  and  listen  to  mc!"  She  then 
began  to  tell  him  a  story,  which  never  ended.  She  had  already  been  talking 
quite  a  while,  and  the  old  Fox  began  to  sleej).  She  went  on  Irlling  her  story 
until  the  I-'ox  was  fast  asleej).  The  olil  woman  then  got  up  while  the  Fox 
was  sleeping,  and  took  a  knife  and  rut  off  his  head.  Then  she  made  a  fire 
and  roasted  the  Fox.  After  he  was  done,  she  took  him  off  the  fire  and  went 
to  get  some  more  wood.  While  she  was  gone,  a  bear  came  and  carried  the 
Fox  away.  Soon  the  woman  returned;  and  when  she  did  not  find  the  Fox, 
she  asked  a  Tree,  "Who  has  taken  away  my  fox?"  The  Tree  told  her  that 
a  bear  had  taken  it.  The  woman  said,  "  Now,  this  is  bad,  what  the  bear 
VOL.  .xxv. — NO.  95. — 4 


50  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

has  done   to   me.     Now,    I    will   say   this:    'Bears  shall   have   bob-tails.'" 
And  that  is  the  reason  why  bears  have  short  tails. 

15.    HOW    A    BIRD    AND    AN    ALLIGATOR    SAVED    TWO    CHILDREN 

Once  there  stood  at  one  place  a  number  of  tents.  Outside  some  children 
were  playing.  A  white  man  who  came  along  "sat  down"  not  far  away. 
The  children  saw  it,  and  said,  "Look  at  that  white  man!  He  is  'making 
something.'"  When  the  w^hite  man  heard  it,  he  got  angry,  and  went  to  the 
tents  and  demanded  of  the  Indians  that  they  should  move  away,  but  leave 
the  children,  which  they  did.  Soon  some  of  the  girls  who  had  been  playing 
outside  told  their  sisters  to  go  and  get  something  from  the  camps.  They 
went,  but  found  no  tents.  An  old  Dog  was  tied  at  the  place  where  the  tents 
had  been  standing.  Then  the  children  asked  the  Dog  where  their  friends 
were.  He  told  them  they  had  gone  away,  and  then  went  with  the  children 
to  hunt  them.  While  they  were  going,  they  came  to  a  little  tent  where  an 
old  woman  lived,  whom  they  asked  whether  she  had  seen  their  mothers 
pass  by.  The  old  woman  said,  "My  grandchildren,  my  grandchildren! 
You  can  sleep  here  during  the  night."  So  they  slept  there,  all  in  one  row. 
While  they  were  sleeping,  the  old  woman  sharpened  her  knife  and  cut  of?  all 
the  children's  heads.  Only  one  large  girl  awoke  and  begged  for  her  and  her 
little  sister's  life,  promising  the  old  woman  that  they  would  lov'e  and  help 
her.  In  the  morning  the  old  woman  asked  the  children  if  they  wanted  to 
eat  of  the  bodies  of  the  children  which  she  had  just  cooked.  They  refused, 
saying  they  were  not  hungry.  During  the  next  night  the  smaller  girl  wanted 
to  go  out.  The  old  woman  told  the  larger  girl  to  just  let  her  sister  do  it  in 
the  tent.  But  she  said  no,  because  it  would  get  "muddy"  in  the  tent; 
and  so  they  went  out.  In  a  little  while  the  little  girl  again  had  to  get  up. 
The  old  woman  again  protested  against  their  going  out;  but  the  larger  sister 
said,  "There  will  be  a  little  hill  in  the  tent,"  and  the  woman  again  let  them 
go  out.  When  they  were  outside,  a  little  Bird  told  them  they  should  run 
away,  as  the  old  woman  would  cut  off  their  heads  too.  So  they  ran  away. 
Meanwhile  the  old  woman  kept  calling  from  the  tent  that  they  should  hurry 
up  or  else  she  would  come  out.  The  Bird  kept  answering,  "Wait!"  The 
girls,  in  the  mean  time,  had  come  to  a  river.  On  the  shore  lay  an  Alligator, 
who  told  them  to  go  around  him  four  times.  Then  he  asked  them  to  sit 
down  by  him  and  see  if  they  could  find  something  on  him.  They  did  so, 
and  found  frogs,  which  the  Alligator  told  them  to  crack  as  they  crack  lice 
that  they  hunt  on  each  other.  Then  the  Alligator  told  them  to  get  on  his 
back;  and  when  they  did  so,  he  carried  them  across  the  river.  When  they 
were  across,  they  ran,  and  saw  a  very  nice  tent  at  a  distance,  in  which  they 
lived. 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends 


PIMA  AM)  PAPAGO  LEGENDS 

BV    MARY   L.    NEFF 

(The  following  legends  were  written  at  the  instance  of  Dr.  Mary  L.  Xefl  in  1907.  by 
Pima  and  Papago  children  attending  the  Industrial  School  at  Tucson.  Arizona.  They  are 
printed  here  without  any  change,  as  an  interesting  record  of  the  form  in  which  the  young 
Indian  of  that  region  takes  the  remains  of  his  tribal  past  into  his  future  life.  Unfortu- 
nately the  exact  tribal  relations  of  the  writers  were  not  given.  — .Ed.] 

HOW   THE    EARTH   WAS   MADE 

Before  this  world  was  made  there  was  nothing  but  darkness.  And 
the  darkness  rolled  about  in  the  air,  and  out  of  the  darkness  a  black 
little  ball  was  formed. 

It  flew  about  in  the  air  for  many  centuries,  increasing  its  size  uniil 
it  was  about  six  or  seven  times  as  large  as  a  basket-ball. 

Finally  this  big  black  ball  turned  itself  into  a  man.  This  man  flew 
around  in  the  air  until  once  he  determined  to  make  something  to 
dwell  on.     So  he  gathered  all  the  dust  in  the  air  and  formed  a  little  ball. 

This  he  threw  up  into  the  air,  hoping  that  if  his  plan  should  succeed, 
this  ball  would  in  some  way  stay  in  the  air. 

The  first  trial  was  a  failure.  This  he  repeated  several  times,  but 
every  time  he  failed. 

The  last  time  he  threw  it  up,  it  staid  in  the  air,  and  was  held  by 
some  magic  power. 

This  Chuewut  Ma-cki  (or  Earth  Doctor)  went  and  sat  on  it,  and 
stretched  it  out  as  far  as  it  could  be  stretched,  until  it  reached  the 
horizon. 

The  earth  did  not  stay  very  steady,  for  it  balanced,  and  so  he  sent 
a  spider  to  run  along  the  edge  and  spin  its  thread,  so  as  to  keep  it 
steady.     [They  believe  that  the  eartii  was  flat.] 

When  this  was  done,  he  made  the  sun  to  rise  in  the  east.  When  it 
was  set,  it  was  so  dark  as  before,  and  sf)  he  made  the  moon  and  the  stars. 

He  then  made  the-  fruit-bearing  tmsand  vegetables;  and  after  that, 
the  beasts,  and  the  fowls  of  liu'  air. 

The  last  that  wen-  made  were  the  inhabit. uUs.  lb-  ilu-n  appointed 
the  man  Scahcr  to  be  the  leader  of  the  people.  He  was  to  rule  the 
pro[)le,  the  authorities  of  Chuewut  Ma-cki. 

Hut  this  m.m,  after  ruling  f(jr  (|uite  h  while,  siiuud  against  (hurwut 
Ma-cki. 

He  ruled  the  [)eoplr  in  lii^  own  powi-r,  .iml  led  tiiein  to  sin  against 
their  maker. 

Chuewut  Ma-cki  at  once  decided  to  destroy  the  peoj)le;  and  so  he 


52  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

sent  out  a  man  to  go  all  ov^er  the  world,  but  he  did  not  tell  him  what  to 
do.  But  the  man  obeyed,  and  started  out;  and  as  he  was  going,  he 
got  a  little  baby  on  the  way,  and  he  carried  it  with  him. 

As  he  approached  near  where  Seaher  lives,  he  left  the  baby  under  a 
tree  and  went  over  to  him.  Seaher  heard  the  baby  crying,  and  he 
asked  where  the  baby  was.     "Go  bring  him  here! "  he  said. 

The  man  went;  and  as  he  came  near  to  pick  him  up,  he  sank  up  to 
his  knees,  for  the  ground  was  softened  by  the  tears  of  the  baby,  that 
ran  down  to  the  ground.  He  went  back,  told  Seaher  that  it  was  of  no 
use,  the  ground  around  was  wet  and  soft.  But  he  told  him  to  go  and 
get  him  some  way. 

And  again  he  started  out  for  the  baby;  but  lo!  the  ground  was  more 
soft,  and  little  streams  of  water  began  to  flow  out  of  this  place,  and 
the  flood  arose  from  it.  The  Pima  Indians  fled,  and  took  refuge  on  the 
mountains  east  of  Phoenix  or  north  of  Florence. 

It  is  on  this  mountain  where  the  great  transmutation  took  place. 

As  they  were  up  there  on  that  high  mountain,  they  were  anxious  to 
know  whether  the  water  was  going  down  or  coming  up. 

Once  a  man  went  down  to  see  the  water  with  his  dog;  and  when  they 
returned  to  the  crowd  on  the  top,  the  dog  spoke,  and  the  people  turned 
into  stone. 

When  the  water  was  abated,  Chuewut  Ma-cki  made  more  people. 

The  Indians  now  living  in  the  United  States  are  descended  from  them. 

Images  of  stones  may  still  be  seen  on  the  top  of  this  mountain,  and 
also  the  dog  may  be  seen  standing  beside  its  master. 

This  is  the  origin  of  the  Indians  which  so  puzzled  the  white  people. 

Johnson  Aziil. 

ORIGIN   LEGEND 

The  Indians  of  my  race  once  believed  this  story. 

There  was  a  person  that  they  called  their  creator  or  their  sister. 
She  saw  that  the  world  was  getting  so  bad,  so  the  sister  thought  to 
destroy  the  earth  with  water.  She  made  an  olla  out  of  a  kind  of  sap 
that  comes  from  the  grease-wood,  in  which  to  save  herself.  Fox  had 
heard  about  this;  so  he  got  a  trunk  of  a  tree  and  made  a  hole  through, 
and  left  the  one  side  open,  so  as  to  go  in  from.  But,  as  he  did  not  know 
how  to  shut  the  other  side,  he  began  to  cry.  The  sister  came  and 
asked  what  was  the  matter.  The  fox  told  her  his  troubles.  The 
sister  told  him  how  she  had  made  hers.  So  the  Fox  took  some  of  that, 
and  made  a  door  for  that  side. 

The  Fox  then  said,  "Now,  if  you  or  I  get  out  first,  shall  roll  this 
world."  There  was  the  bluebird,  red-bird,  and  ksop  (the  smallest 
bird),  who  thought  that  they  would  go  up  to  the  sky  and  hang  them- 
selves. So,  as  the  water  came,  the  sister  went  into  her  olla,  the  Fox  in 
his  place,  and  the  birds  flew  to  heaven  and  hung  on  to  the  blue  sky. 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  53 

While  the  water  was  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  the  sister's  olla  went 
east,  and  the  Fox's  south. 

As  for  the  birds,  the  water  was  high  enough  that  their  tails  were 
in  the  water.  The  bluebird  was  crying,  and  could  not  be  comforted. 
At  last  the  little  Ksop  said,  "  I  am  the  smallest  one,  yet  I  am  not  cry- 
ing." Then  the  bluebird  stopped  crying.  They  staid  for  some 
months,  and  the  water  was  not  all  gone  yet.  When  the  sister  got  out, 
she  went  and  saw  the  birds  coming  down.  She  hunted  for  the  Fox, 
who  was  not  out  yet.  All  the  water  was  gone.  He  took  mud  and 
put  it  on  his  legs  and  his  body  to  make  believe  he  had  been  out  a  long 
time.  As  he  saw  the  sister,  he  shouted,  "I  was  the  first  out!"  The 
birds  said  they  had  been  out  first.  But  the  sister  said  nothing.  So  they 
went  their  way.  But  the  sister  went  to  a  pond  near  by,  and  was  getting 
some  mud,  when  the  Fox  came  and  asked  what  she  was  going  to  do. 
The  sister  said  that  she  was  going  to  make  some  people  to  live  on  the 
earth.  The  Fox  asked  to  help,  and  began  to  get  his  mud.  When  they 
got  ready  to  make  them,  the  Fox  said,  "Let  us  not  show  each  other 
until  we  are  through!"  He  turned  his  back,  and  began  to  make  dolls 
with  one  arm  or  one  leg,  one  eye,  one  of  each  part  of  the  body,  laughing 
at  the  same  time. 

When  they  got  through,  they  showed  each  other  what  they  had 
made.  The  sister  asked  many  questions  about  how  they  were  going 
to  work.  The  sister  told  him  to  take  the  dolls  and  put  them  behind  the 
Ocean  in  another  world.  She  did  not  care  to  have  people  like  that. 
So  he  took  them  and  put  them  there.  The  Indians  still  believe  that 
there  are  people  who  are  like  that;  and  the  sister  breathed  into  those 
people  that  she  had  made,  and  they  were  alive.  The  Indians  call  the 
Fox  our  brother  for  fun. 

Louise. 
THE  fox's  journey. 

Once  there  was  a  Fox  who  was  going  toward  the  cast.  He  passed 
by  a  cottonwood-tree. 

As  he  went  on  a  little  farther  from  the  tree,  he  heard  a  voice,  saying, 
"Rough-edged  ears,  long  paws,  sharp  mouth,  long  tail,  gray  eyes!" 
Whoever  was  saying  this  was  kind  of  singing. 

When  the  Fox  heard  it,  he  thought  to  hiinsrlf,  "\\'h\ ,  tlu'  person 
meant  me,"  and  was  kind  of  mad. 

So  the  Fox  went  back  to  the  place  where  the  sound  siiinrd  to  bi-, 
but  found  lujbody. 

He  went  on  his  way  again.  i'rett>'  soon  he  hc.ir<l  ihc  ^.mic  xoicc, 
saying  the  very  same  thing  again. 

Then  he  was  so  angry;  and  ho  said,  "If  I  tiiul  now,  1  am  K»»'iig  lodo 
something  to  you."  So  he  went  back  lo  the  s.iint'  place,  but  this  time 
he  looked  and  looked,  till  ,ii  last  iu-  iiirnrd  the  loaves  of  the  cotton- 
wood-troe  upsido  down,  \vhi(  li  wcro  on  the  i^rouiid. 


54  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

There  he  found  a  Frog  under  one  of  the  leaves.  "Here  you  are! 
You  are  not  any  nicer  than  I  am,"  he  said  when  he  found  the  Frog 
who  was  saying  things  about  him. 

Then  the  Fox  began  to  sing  a  hule  about  the  Frog  too.  This  is 
what  he  said :  "Big  mouth,  short  legs,  short  back,  no  tail,  ugly  person!  " 
When  the  Fox  finished  his  song,  he  said,  "Now  I  am  going  to  eat  you 
up."  Then  the  F"rog  said,  "If  you  eat  me  without  salt,  every  living 
thing  will  be  drowned;  but  if  you  eat  me  with  salt,  nothing  will  be 
drowned."    And  of  course  the  Fox  could  not  wait,  so  he  ate  up  the  Frog. 

He  went  on  his  way  after  that.  But  when  he  looked  back,  he  saw 
the  water  coming  from  out  of  his  footprints.  Water  getting  bigger 
and  bigger,  so  the  Fox  climbed  a  cottonwood-tree.  When  the  water 
was  about  to  reach  him,  he  climbed  higher,  till  he  was  on  the  very  top 
of  the  tree.  There  he  saw  some  storks  (?)  coming.  So  he  asked  some 
of  them  if  they  had  food  with  them.  The  storks  said,  "The  water  is 
not  deep  enough  to  drown  you.  Come  down  and  have  some  food !  Just 
look  here!  The  water  is  not  deep."  They  said  so  while  walking  about. 
Yet  they  only  walked  on  top  of  the  water.  So  the  Fox  believed  them ; 
and,  besides,  he  was  hungry.  So  he  jumped  down.  The  water  was 
very  deep,  so  that  he  could  not  be  on  the  surface  any  more. 

Martha  Anton. 

YA-CHE-WOL 

Once  on  a  time  there  lived  a  little  animal,  called  by  the  Indians 
Ya-che-wol,  that  lived  under  the  ground. 

One  day  he  went  out  hunting,  he  got  to  a  certain  place,  and  began 
cutting  down  bushes,  and  enclosed  all  the  animals  that  were  there 
in  that  place,  and  then  set  it  on  fire. 

When  he  got  this  done,  he  went  and  stood  in  the  centre,  and  began 
to  sing.     His  song  was  this: 

Choke-choke-sai-good,  Chokc-choke-sai-good ; 
Cliirt-diin  en  I  he,  Chirt-dun  en  I  he. 

And  while  he  sang  this  song,  he  was  jumping  up  and  down.  The 
first  time  he  sang,  he  sank  into  the  ground  up  to  his  ankles;  he  sang 
it  again,  and  this  time  he  was  in  up  to  his  knees;  and  so  on  till  his 
whole  body  was  under  ground,  and  the  fire  met  over  him. 

He  lay  under  the  ground  till  it  was  cooled  off;  and  then  he  came  up 
and  gathered  all  the  animals  that  were  burned,  and  carried  them  home, 
and  gave  his  friends  a  great  feast. 

One  day  he  had  been  out  as  usual,  and  was  at  home  drying  the  meat 
he  had  gotten.  A  Fox  who  was  passing  by  saw  the  great  lot  of  meat, 
and  thought  he  would  go  and  ask  about  it. 

Ya-che-wol  told  him  where  and  how  he  got  it.  The  Fox  said  he 
was  going  to  try  and  get  some  meat  too,  and  so  he  asked  Ya-che-wol 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  55 

again  how  he  did  it,  and  he  was  told  again,  and  also  was  taught  the 
little  song. 

Well,  the  Fox  went  his  wa>',  and  did  just  what  he  was  told  to  do. 
After  he  set  the  bushes  on  fire,  he  went  and  stood  in  the  middle,  and 
began  to  sing.  He  went  in  up  to  his  ankles,  and  then  he  never  went 
any  lower  after  that. 

And  yet  the  fire  was  coming  nearer  every  niinuic,  and  he  sang  louder 
than  ever,  but  that  did  not  help.  At  last  tlic  fire  met  over  him,  and 
he  was  Inirned  witli  the  other  animals. 

His  wife  and  children  waited  for  him,  but  lie  did  not  come,  and  so 
the>'  went  to  look  for  him.  When  the>-  came  to  that  place  where  he 
set  the  bushes  on  fire,  the>'  saw  him  lying  with  his  mouth  open  among 
the  other  animals. 

They  then  gathered  the  animals  he  burned,  and  also  his  body,  and 
took  them  home  and  enjoyed  the  meat;  but  poor  Mr.  Fox  never  got 
any  to  taste  of. 

Lobi  Anton. 

THE    FOX    AND   THE    DUCKS 

Once  upon  a  time  there  were  some  Ducks  that  were  cutting  down 
some  trees,  and  were  singing  away  while  they  were  at  work,  when 
suddenly  an  old  Fox  came  out  of  the  woods,  and  said,  "What  are  you 
doing,  my  friends?"  They  told  him  that  they  were  cutting  trees  and 
singing. 

He  said  he  would  like  to  try  and  cut  some  down  too.  So  he  got  to 
work  and  began  to  cut  them  down;  but  it  was  too  hard  for  him,  so  he 
got  tired,  and  said  he  would  like  to  lie  in  the  shade  of  one  of  those  trees. 
So  he  did.     He  lay  down  and  went  to  sleep. 

But  one  (jf  the  Ducks  came  and  cut  the  tree  under  whic  h  the  l"ox 
was  lying.  When  the  Fox  heard  the  tree  coming  down,  he  ran  to  s;i\e 
his  life;  but  it  fell  on  his  tail,  and  he  could  not  get  out.  He  cried  for 
help,  but  the  birds  onl\'  lauglud  and  Mew  away. 

The  l-'ox  pulled  and  jJulK-d  to  get  his  tail  out,  but  he  could  not.  So 
at  last  some  one  had  pil\'  on  him  and  lu-li)e(l  him.  So  he  got  out  and 
went  oil  his  wa>-  home. 

As  he  was  on  his  way  homi-,  he  met  a  Duik,  and  askid  him  if  he 
was  one  of  them  that  was  working  in  (he  woods.  He  s.iid  ih.il  he  was. 
So  the  Fox  said  to  (hat  I)ii(k,  that  he  w.is  to  go  (o  tin-  l-Ox's  house, 
wlure  he  would  find  his  wife.  He  was  to  ask  her  to  i(K)k  hijn.  but 
she  should  be  Mire  and  leave  the  head  for  the  I'ox  to  I'at  when  In-  c.ime 
home. 

The  Duck  went;  but  when  he  got  to  the  I'Ox's  housi-.  In-  said  (o  (he 
old  I'ox-Woman  that  her  husband  h.id  s;ii<l  that  .>-he  should  C(j<)k  him 
some  of  his  and  her  shtK's,  and  also  some  leather.  So  she  said  that  she 
would  do  i(.     There  was  a  cot  ton  wood -tree  near  by,  and  a  pond  where 


56  Journal  of  American  Folk- Lore 

they  got  their  water.  The  Duck  went  and  sat  on  it  where  he  could 
see  himself  in  the  water.  So  when  the  Fox  came,  he  asked  his  wife 
where  she  had  saved  the  head  of  the  Duck.  "  Did  the  Duck  come  that 
I  sent  to  tell  you  to  cook  him?"  he  said;  and  she  said,  "Yes,  he  came, 
but  told  me  to  cook  these  things,  so  I  did."  The  Fox  was  very  much 
displeased.  And  as  he  was  going  to  get  some  water,  there  he  saw  the 
Duck,  and  he  said,  "There  you  are!  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  So  he 
went  to  his  house  and  got  a  mortar,  and  tied  it  around  his  waist, 
and  went  into  the  water  to  get  the  Duck;  but  it  was  not  heavy  enough, 
so  he  came  up  and  got  a  grinding-stone,  and  that  was  just  too  heavy. 
He  sank  into  the  water,  and  never  returned.  But  he  never  reached  the 
bird  that  he  was  after,  because  he  was  just  up  in  a  tree,  while  the  Fox 
thought  he  was  in  the  water.     So  he  got  drowned. 

Mary  Williams. 

THE  EAGLE 

There  once  lived  a  man  who  is  said  to  have  been  good  for  nothing. 

But  one  day  he  metamorphosed  himself  into  an  Eagle.  He  went 
and  lived  upon  a  high  steep  mountain,  and,  coming  down,  killed  people 
every  day. 

One  day  a  little  man  decided  to  kill  him,  and  so  went  up;  and  finally, 
when  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  Eagle  lives,  the  Eagle  w^as  away, 
but  his  wife  was  at  home. 

The  woman  told  him  that  he  must  hide  himself,  for  it  was  about 
time  for  the  coming  of  the  Eagle. 

The  little  man  at  once  transformed  himself  into  a  fly,  and  hid  him- 
self under  a  pile  of  dead  bodies. 

In  a  few  hours  came  the  Eagle  with  more  dead  bodies.  After 
eating  his  dinner,  being  weary  from  his  long  journey,  he  lay  down  and 
went  to  sleep. 

The  little  man  came  out  from  his  hiding-place,  cut  off  the  Eagle's 
head,  and  poured  warm  water  over  the  dead  bodies,  and  they  came 
back  to  life  again.  But  some  had  been  there  so  long,  that  they  turned 
white;  and  when  the  little  man  tried  to  talk  to  them,  they  talked  a 
different  language.  So  he  separated  them  from  the  Indians,  and 
called  them  white  men. 

These  legends  are  no  longer  believed,  as  the  Indians  are  coming  out 
of  their  superstition  into  a  better  knowledge. 

Johnson  Azul  (7th  Grade). 

CASA     BLANCA 

There  is  an  Indian  legend  told  by  the  Indians  about  the  early 
inhabitants  of  this  country. 

These  people  that  are  supposed  to  have  lived  a  long  time  ago  did  not 
know  how  to  make  adobe. 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  57 

They  did  nothing  but  work,  because  they  were  friendly,  and  they 
never  fought  each  other. 

They  went  to  work  and  put  up  a  building  many  stories  high. 

They  did  not  have  an\thing  to  carry  the  mud  with,  nor  did  they  have 
any  tools  to  use;  but  they  carried  the  mud  in  their  hands,  and  put  it 
on  the  wall,  and  packed  it  till  it  staid  on  firmly. 

They  worked  on  it  for  a  long  time,  and  they  finished  it   at   last. 

The  walls  were  thick,  and  it  contained  many  small  rooms.  This 
was  their  protection  against  the  hot  sun  and  rain. 

And  there  was  a  man  whom  they  all  depended  upon  in  everything. 

This  man  had  power  to  do  anything  he  wanted,  and  all  these 
people  were  afraid  of  him;  and  if  anything  happened,  they  would  go 
to  him,  and  he  settled  the  matter. 

One  time  they  were  discontented  with  him,  and  began  to  think  of 
killing  him.     Many  plans  were  made  how  to  kill  him. 

They  were  in  a  house  talking  over  the  matter,  and  some  one  was 
found  who  could  do  it. 

This  was  a  friend  of  the  Sun.  Four  days  were  given  him,  and  at 
the  end  of  that  time  he  was  to  tr>-. 

After  four  days  were  over,  he  went  eastward,  where  the  sun  rises; 
and  in  the  morning,  as  the  sun  was  coming  up,  he  joined  it,  and  followed 
it  all  the  way  till  it  set;  and  the  next  day  he  came  home  and  told  the 
people  that  within  four  days  this  man  should  die. 

This  powerful  man  was  thinking  of  no  danger.  After  four  days, 
the  sun  came  up  brightly,  and  it  was  hotter  than  ever.  He  could 
not  stand  it  any  longer. 

He  had  a  bed  which  was  always  cold,  a  pond,  a  chair,  and  a  rod. 
These  were  always  cold. 

He  went  to  his  chair  and  sat  on  it,  but  it  was  hot,  as  if  it  had  been 
heated.  Then  he  went  to  his  rod,  and  it  was  just  as  hot;  then  to  his 
pond,  and  it  was  hot;  and  last  he  went  to  his  bed,  and  there  he  died. 

When  some  of  them  knew  it,  they  went  and  picked  him  up  and  threw 
him  outside. 

Many  years  after,  nothing  was  left  of  him  but  bones. 

All  these  years  the  people  were  happy,  and  their  children  always 
went  every  day  to  these  bones,  and  plax'ed  about,  ■mm\  jumped  o\er 
them. 

Forty  years  passed  after  his  death.  One  day  these  children  wiiit 
again,  and  found  that  his  flesh  was  growing  again.  They  ran  bark 
and  told  the  people  of  this;  and  they  told  them  to  let  him  alonr,  for 
something  would  happen  soon. 

On  the  next  day  they  went  again,  and  found  tli.it  tluTe  was  a  white 
spot  on  his  breast;  and  when  they  returned,  tlu-y  told  their  parents 
about  it.     And  tin-  third  day  tlu\-  wtut,  and  he  was  sitting  up  fixing 


58  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

his  canteen;  and  ihey  told  their  parents  that  the  old  man  was  alive 
again,  and  was  getting  ready  to  take  a  long  journey.  The  fourth 
day  they  found  him  gone.  He  sank  into  the  ground,  and  went  to 
the  other  side  of  the  world,  and  there  he  told  the  people  how  his 
friends  had  treated  him  at  home.  And  he  wanted  them  to  go  and 
destroy  them. 

A  man  who  was  a  chief  of  that  tribe  called  the  people,  and  told  them 
that  a  man  had  come  from  a  strange  country,  and  wanted  to  say  some- 
thing to  them  all. 

In  the  evening  they  all  gathered  around  him;  and  he  told  them  of 
his  wishes  to  fight  these  people,  and  they  all  agreed  with  him. 

A  few  days  later  they  found  themselves  starting  off, —  men,  women, 
and  children. 

And  as  they  came,  he  told  these  people  that  no  one  should  look 
back  as  they  were  travelling  along.  Nobody  was  carrying  anything 
except  weapons.  The  Fox  was  foolish,  and  he  looked  back  and  saw 
that  there  were  many.  He  said,  "How  are  we  going  to  fight  them, 
for  we  are  too  many,  and  some  of  us  might  not  kill  any?" 

As  soon  as  he  stopped  speaking,  the  place  from  where  they  came  up 
was  shut  off,  and  many  others  did  not  come.  They  scolded  him  for 
looking  back. 

And  after  going  a  little  ways,  he  saw  the  babies  as  they  were  going 
by  themselves.  He  said,  "How  is  it  that  these  babies  are  running  by 
themselves?     What  will  our  people  think  of  them?" 

And  suddenly  they  all  stopped,  and  the  women  had  to  carry  them 
on  their  backs. 

They  began  their  fighting.  They  killed  every  one  of  the  people. 
Finally  they  came  to  this  large  strong  building  which  was  full  of  people. 
They  could  not  do  anything  with  it,  but  stood  around  it  and  looked  at  it 
for  a  long  time.     They  tried  to  get  inside,  but  they  could  not  do  it. 

A  little  Snake  who  was  an  orphan  was  brought  before  them  all.  He 
said,  that  if  they  would  let  him,  he  could  do  the  work. 

They  all  looked  upon  him  as  he  went  to  it  and  stretched  himself 
around  it,  and  pulled  it  with  such  force  that  the  walls  began  to  fall 
little  by  little.  This  was  continued  till  the  whole  building  fell  into 
ruins,  and  the  people  that  were  in  it  were  buried. 

They  continued  their  journey  all  over  the  country,  and  killed  people. 

A  Rattlesnake  who  could  not  run  very  fast  never  killed  any  one,  be- 
cause those  that  run  fast  would  have  killed  all  before  he  came. 

And  finally  he  asked  an  animal  that  dug  its  hole  in  the  ground  to  help 
him.  And  this  creature  dug  into  the  ground,  and  the  Snake  followed 
him  till  they  came  to  a  village  where  the  chief  stands  and  calls  the 
people  when  anything  happens.  There  the  Snake  waited  all  night 
under  the  stone  on  which  this  chief  stands. 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  59 

Early  in  the  morning  the  chief  came  along,  and  was  standing  on  this 
stone.  Rattlesnake  raised  his  head  and  bit  him  on  the  heel,  and  there 
the  chief  died. 

In  the  morning,  when  they  came  to  that  place,  they  found  that  the 
chief  had  been  killed  by  the  Rattlesnake;  and  they  thought  much  of 
him  because  he  had  killed  the  great  man  of  that  village. 

They  passed  on  till  they  had  killed  every  one,  and  none  were  left. 

They  took  their  land,  and  lived  in  it  many  years. 

This  great  building  that  was  ruined  is  supposed  to  be  the  one  which 
is  now  known  as  Casa  Blanca. 

Miguel. 

THE    TRANSFORMED    GRANDMOTHER 

Once  far  away  there  lived  an  old  woman,  with  her  two  grandchildren 
in  a  lonely  place  near  a  very  high  and  steep  mountain. 

One  da>'  she  told  her  grandchildren  that  there  was  a  plant  that  the 
Indians  use  for  food,  that  grows  on  the  mountains,  and  that  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  gather  some  of  it. 

She  started  at  once  toward  the  mountain  near  them.  When  she 
got  to  the  bottom  of  the  mountain,  siie  looked  up,  but  could  not  see 
the  top;  but  she  determined  to  climb  it,  so  she  took  her  cane  in  one 
hand,  and  sang  her  song.  With  these  she  continued  to  climb  the 
steep  mountain.  She  grew  weary,  and  sat  down,  and  looked  up  above; 
but  still  the  top  did  not  seem  any  nearer,  so  she  began  her  climbing 
again. 

She  had  to  rest  many  times  before  she  could  see  the  top  she  was 
aiming  for.  The  poor  woman  had  to  rest  again,  as  before,  near  the 
top.  It  was  e\cning  before  she  came  to  the  lop  of  the  place.  She  had 
suffered  all  the  way;  for  her  feet  were  bleeding,  being  cut  by  rocks  and 
thorns,  lill  at  last  she  stood  before  the  plant  itself. 

She  began  pulling  the  plant  out  of  the  ground,  and  she  pulled  it  loo 
hard;  and  awa>'  she  rolled  down  the  mountain-side,  and  the  plant 
with  her. 

Great  stones  and  rocks  rolled  over  her,  and  almost  smashed  her 
before  her  Ixxly  could  reach  the  bottom.  She  was  killed  on  the  wa\-; 
but  it  was  said  that  the  boiu-s  jjicked  themselves  up  and  started 
toward  home,  singing  a  song. 

In  the  mean  lime  the  children  began  to  get  aiixi(»us  for  tluir  i^rand- 
molher  to  return.  So,  as  they  sat  around  the  little  fire  tlu'>-  had  built, 
they  heard  some  one  singing  or  talking  far  away.  Nearer  and  ni-arer 
the  sound  came;  and  the  \-ouiii;er  one  began  lo  ask  what  it  was  thai 
was  making  the  noisr.  Tin-  older  one  knew  this  sound  was  made  by 
her  grandmother,  so  she  told  the  \-ounKfr  one  that  tlu'\-  must  go  into 
the  house  and  close  the  doorway  with  a  kind  of  blanki'l  that  is  made 
or  wo\cn  like  a  basket.     The  material  used  lor  this  is  a  kind  of  weed 


6o  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

that  grows  in  the  river  sometimes,  and  is  used  to  sleep  or  sit  on,  when 
cloth  or  blanket  is  not  to  be  had,  as  it  was  at  this  time  of  my  story. 
They  went  inside  and  held  the  "w7«e"  over  the  door,  as  it  is  called 
in  Pima,  so  that  the  woman  might  not  enter.  At  last  she  came  and 
ran  around  the  house  many  times,  singing  as  she  ran.  The  children 
were  planning  what  they  would  do  if  she  should  break  in  through  the 
door.  One  of  them  said  she  would  turn  into  a  blue  stone,  and  the 
other  said  he  would  turn  into  a  stick  burning  at  one  end.  So  they 
dropped  the  ''mine''  they  held  in  their  hands.  When  the  woman 
entered,  there  was  nobody  to  be  seen  —  only  the  blue  stone  and  the 
burning  stick.     She  stood  calling,  but  no  answer  came. 

Lucy  Hoivard. 

AN   OLD   WOMAN    AND   HER   GRANDSONS 

Once  there  lived  an  old  woman  with  two  grandsons  of  hers.  It  hap- 
pened one  day  that  there  was  a  cow  killed  behind  some  hills.  When 
she  heard  about  it,  she  went  to  see  if  they  would  not  give  her  a  piece 
of  meat.  When  she  got  there,  the  people  were  getting  meat  and  going 
off;  and  before  long  everything  was  gone,  and  the  poor  woman  was 
left  with  nothing.  After  everybody  had  gone  away,  she  gathered  two 
lumps  of  blood,  and  she  placed  them  under  some  rocks  near  by.  When 
this  was  done,  she  started  home.  When  she  got  there,  she  told  her 
boys  that  they  must  go  every  day  and  see  the  blood  till  it  turned  into 
animals.  One  day  the  boys  went  again  to  see  the  blood;  and,  to  their 
great  surprise,  there  w'ere  two  little  animals  instead  of  blood.  One 
was  a  little  bear,  and  one  was  a  little  lion.  They  took  them  home  to 
their  grandmother,  and  she  told  them  that  each  one  could  have  one 
for  a  pet. 

One  day  the  Indian  women  were  going  to  play  sticks,  —  a  game 
which  the  Indian  women  used  to  enjoy  so  much;  and  the  grandmother 
and  her  boys  were  going. 

The  boys  took  their  pets  along.  When  they  got  there,  the  people 
liked  their  pets,  and  some  wanted  to  buy  them;  but  neither  was  willing 
to  sell  his  pet.  Some  of  the  men  said  that  they  could  have  them,  even 
if  the  boys  did  not  want  to  give  them  up.  They  made  a  plan  to  kill 
the  grandmother  and  take  the  animals  away  from  those  boys.  When 
she  found  out  the  plan,  she  started  right  home  with  her  boys  and  the 
animals.  When  they  got  home,  she  told  her  boys  to  run  to  the  moun- 
tains to  save  their  pets;  and  she  also  told  them  that  when  they  came 
back,  they  would  find  her  dead  body  lying  by  the  wall,  and  that  they 
must  bury  it  in  a  big  ditch  near  their  house.  After  a  while  a  tobacco- 
plant  would  grow  on  top  of  her  grave  for  them  to  smoke.  So  the  boys 
started  to  run.  It  was  not  long  before  the  men  appeared  behind  them. 
Every  time  they  came  nearer,  the  boys  would  throw  the  poor  things 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  6i 

forward;  then,  when  lhc\'  got  there,  lhe>-  would  pick  them  up  again. 
It  was  evening,  and  the  men  stopped  and  started  back  home. 

The  boys  were  on  the  mountain.  They  could  not  come  down,  so 
they  decided  to  spend  the  night  up  there.  They  found  a  nice  place 
among  the  rocks;  and  the  oldest  went  to  sleep  right  away,  but  the 
younger  one  was  afraid.  After  a  while  he  heard  somebody  saying, 
"One  was  a  little  bear,  one  was  a  little  bear;"  and  the  foxes  were 
crying,  and  the  owls  were  also  helping.  The  little  boy  could  not  stand 
this,  so  he  woke  his  brother  up;  but  his  brother  told  him  that  he  must 
have  some  sleep,  or  he  would  not  reach  home.  So  the  little  fellow 
fell  asleep  at  last. 

In  the  morning  they  started  home  all  safe.  When  they  got  home, 
sure  enough,  they  found  their  grandmother  dead  and  stiff.  And  they 
did  as  she  wished,  buried  her  in  the  ditch;  and  the  tobacco  grew  on 
top  of  her  grave,  and  they  smoked  it;  and  the  big  Black  Beetle  saw 
them,  and  he  did  as  they  had  done;  but  he  smoked  too  much.  That 
is  why  the  black  beetle  holds  the  hind  part  of  its  body  way  up  in  the 
air,  and  also  gives  out  such  a  bad  smell. 

Mariana  Garcia. 

THE    BROTHERS 

Long,  long  time  ago  there  was  a  family  who  were  living  on  the  bank 
of  a  river.  They  had  two  boys.  One  of  them  was  a  fine-looking  boy, 
and  the  other  was  an  ugly-looking  boy. 

One  day  their  father  thought  that  the  two  boys  ought  to  get  married. 
So  he  made  a  little  house,  into  which  he  put  his  sons,  and  then  he  went 
around  and  told  the  people  about  it.  Lots  of  the  women  wanted  to  get 
married.  So  they  went  and  came  to  the  place  where  that  house  stood. 
The  father  went  in  there  and  painted  the  boys' faces.  He  painted  the 
boy's  face  that  was  an  ugly-looking  boy  all  around,  and  made  it  look 
very  nice;  and  when  he  painted  the  fine-looking  boy's  face,  he  did  not 
paint  it  so  nice  as  the  other  boy's,  because  he  thought,  when  the  women 
saw  that  fine-looking  boy,  all  would  want  to  be  his  wife.  So  he  took 
them  out  and  put  them  in  each  corner  of  the  house,  and  told  the  |>eople 
that  all  the  women  should  take  their  choice.  So  one  by  one  the  women 
went  to  that  ugly-looking  boy  whom  his  father  had  painted  ver>-  nice, 
and  they  thought  he  was  a  fine-looking  boy.  And  not  one  of  them 
went  to  that  line-looking  boy. 

His  father  was  very  sorry,  for  he  wanted  that  fine-looking  bov  to  get 
married. 

Tin-  ugly-loukiiig  lto\'  took  all  the  woiniii  that  lu'  had  married,  and 
went  to  the  side  of  a  mountain  and  lived  there  as  a  tribe  of  Indians. 
The  other  boy  went  with  his  father  and  mf)therand  cousin  to  their  home 
on  the  bank  of  the  ri\er,  where  they  raisi-d  rrf)ps. 

The  boy  and  his  cousin  would  go  to  that  field  and  work  then-  .ill 
(l.i\  ,  anrl  come  home  in  the  evening. 


62  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

The  way  they  went  across  the  river  was  to  get  into  a  basket  and 
whirl  it  around. 

One  day  when  they  were  going  again,  their  father  was  very  sad, 
for  he  knew  that  his  other  son  was  coming  to  kill  them,  but  he  did  not 
tell  them. 

So  they  went  again,  and  staid  over  there  in  the  field;  yet  the  father 
and  mother  got  ready  and  fled  away  to  the  ocean,  and  then  crossed 
it  and  made  a  home  on  the  other  side. 

While  his  son  was  working  with  his  cousin,  they  saw  dust  going  up. 
It  was  his  brother  coming  to  kill  him.  So  he  told  his  cousin  to  get 
into  that  basket  and  go  away.  She  did  so,  and  the  boy  staid  there. 
And  his  brother  came  and  killed  him,  took  off  his  head  and  took  it 
back  to  their  home,  where  they  played  a  game  in  which  they  rolled 
around  that  boy's  head. 

The  girl  that  had  crossed  the  river  went  to  her  home,  but  she  did  not 
find  the  folks  there;  so  she  got  some  things  that  she  thought  she 
would  need,  and  started  to  follow  the  old  folks  that  had  left  their 
home  and  fled.  She  would  go  to  rest  where  they  had  been  resting;  and 
when  she  had  rested  enough,  she  would  go  again  until  she  came  to  the 
place  where  the  other  folks  had  slept.  She  would  stay  there  and  sleep, 
and  early  in  the  morning  she  w^ould  go  again. 

One  day  she  got  a  baby.  She  staid  under  a  tree;  for  she  did  not 
know  what  to  do,  for  it  was  very  hot.  She  looked  around  and  saw  a 
hawk  that  was  lying  dead  on  the  ground.  She  picked  it  up  and  made 
a  cradle  of  it,  and  put  her  baby  in  there,  and  then  she  went  on.  As 
she  was  going,  she  thought  she  would  give  him  a  name;  so  she  called 
him  Hawk-Feathers-Cradle.  When  she  came  to  the  ocean,  she  got 
across;  and  when  she  was  in  sight  of  her  home  folks,  the  father  and 
mother  saw  her  coming  and  danced  with  joy.  The  mother  ran  to  her, 
and  took  the  baby  in  her  arms  and  went  to  their  home. 

When  the  baby  was  old  enough,  his  grandfather  made  him  a  stick 
and  bent  it,  and  let  him  play  with  it  all  day  for  a  long  time,  until 
he  was  a  little  older.  Then  his  grandfather  tied  a  string  to  that  stick, 
and  gave  it  to  him,  and  he  played  with  it  until  he  was  an  older  boy. 
Then  his  grandfather  made  a  nice  bow  and  arrow  for  him. 

Hawk-Feathers-Cradle  would  go  to  the  seashore  and  pick  up  things 
that  he  thought  good  to  eat.  While  he  was  standing  on  the  shore, 
large  fish  would  pass  by  him.  Sometimes  he  tried  to  shoot  them.  One 
day  he  went  to  the  shore  again.  There  was  a  tree  standing  near  the 
shore.  He  went  under  it  for  a  rest.  He  sat  down;  and  as  he  looked 
up,  he  saw  a  bird  sitting  on  a  branch.  He  took  his  bow,  aimed  at  it, 
and  shot  it  in  the  leg.     The  bird  fell  to  the  ground. 

The  bird  said,  "Cure  me,  Hawk-Feathers-Cradle,  for  I  will  save 
you  some  time  when  you  are  in  danger." 


Pima  and  Papago  Legends  63 

Hawk-Feathers-Cradle  took  the  arrow  off,  and  cured  the  bird's  leg. 
Then  the  bird  said,  "  If  there  is  something  I  can  do  for  you,  it  is  that  I 
can  turn  you  into  a  bird  when  you  are  in  danger  and  want  to  become 
a  bird  for  a  while."  Hawk-Feathers-Cradle  was  very  much  pleased, 
and  went  back  home. 

The  next  day  he  came  again  to  the  shore.  As  he  was  standing  by 
the  shore,  that  fish  that  was  not  afraid  came  again.  He  got  ready  to 
shoot  it.  When  that  fish  came  near,  he  aimed  at  it,  and  shot  it  in 
the  back.  He  quickly  jumped  in  and  took  it  out,  and  ran  to  his 
mother  and  told  her  about  it. 

So  they  all  went  and  got  it. 

One  day  he  went  to  the  place  where  that  other  tribe  of  Indians  lived 
on  the  mountain-side.  He  sat  on  the  mountain,  and  watched  them 
playing  a  game  in  which  they  rolled  about  the  boy's  head.  So  he 
thought  about  the  bird  that  he  had  shot  in  the  leg  one  day.  He  became 
a  bird  and  flew  down  to  where  they  were  playing  that  game.  He  flew 
over  that  head.  The  people  were  scared.  They  got  their  bows  and 
arrows  and  tried  to  shoot  him.  He  went  off,  but  he  came  back  again. 
The  men  got  their  bows  and  arrows  again,  and  one  of  them  shot  him 
in  the  leg,  where  the  bird  had  told  him  he  would  be  shot  if  he  was  not 
careful.  Hawk-Feathers-Cradle  went  on  the  mountain  and  took  off 
the  arrow.  He  was  very  angry.  He  went  and  told  all  kinds  of  animals 
to  help  him  fight  the  people  on  the  mountain-side.  They  were  all 
wanted  to  help.     They  all  went  and  destroyed  the  people. 

Herbert  Schiirz. 

THE    FIRST    WHITE    MEN    SEEN 

It  is  said  by  the  Pimas  that  a  long  time  ago,  when  thc>'  never  saw 
any  white  man,  they  were  all  living  at  Casa  Blanca.  Nobody  lived 
at  Salt  River  or  Sacaton  or  Black  Water.  Once  they  saw  great  smoke 
rising  from  the  ground  about  a  mile  away  from  where  they  lived.  They 
did  not  know  what  it  was.  They  were  so  scared,  that  they  were  about 
to  run  away.  The  chief  said,  "  I  will  go  and  see  what  it  is."  He  went 
on  horseback,  and  saw  p('0[)lc  just  like  them,  but  they  had  wliiti.'  skin. 
He  did  noX.  show  himself  to  tiiem,  but  he  just  looked  at  tluMU  from  some 
distance  away.  He  went  back  and  told  the  I'imas  what  their  appear- 
ance was.  And  about  seven  ()'clf)ck  the\'  w(^re  jxissing  near  their  iiomes. 
.Ml  the  Pimas  went  to  see  them.  The  Pimas  were  st.uidiiig  on  one  side, 
watching  them  going  along.  They  were  white  men  that  they  saw. 
.•\  great  many  of  them  were  cutting  trees  befori-  them.  The>-  were 
making  the  road.  Many  of  them  were  soldii-rs.  and  ni.iiu-  were  riding 
on  horseback.  Cattle  were  going  along  with  tlniu.  Man\  wen*  just 
w. liking.  There  were  about  three  hundred  of  them.  .About  three 
o'clock  they  had  all  [)assed.  The  white  people  saw  that  the  Pimas 
wore  no  clothes,  so  some  of  them  tried  to  ^;i\c  them  clothes.     Some 


64  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

of  them  tried  to  give  them  money.  But  when  the  Pimas  got  it,  they 
did  not  know  that  it  was  worth  anything.  They  thought  they  were 
just  stones.  So  they  threw  them  on  the  ground,  and  the  white  people 
took  them  back.  The  Pimas  never  troubled  the  white  people;  but 
the  Apaches  made  war  against  the  white  people. 

Edward  Nelson  (5th  Grade). 

THE  DOG   WHO   BEFRIENDED  A  FOX 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  some  people,  and  they  had  a  dog  that 
would  never  bark  at  foxes.  His  master  had  many  chickens,  and  they 
were  caught  by  the  foxes.  The  dog  lay  around  the  house  asleep  all 
the  time.  And  so  one  time  his  master  did  not  feed  him,  and  scolded 
the  dog,  who  went  away  from  the  house.  At  last  he  made  friends  with 
a  fox.  They  said  to  each  other  that  they  were  very  hungry.  The  Fox 
said  they  would  go  near  the  man's  house,  and  stay  a  little  distance 
from  the  house.  And  the  Dog  would  go  and  lie  down  somewhere  near 
his  master's  house,  and  the  Fox  would  run  and  try  to  catch  a  hen. 
Then  the  Dog  would  bark  at  him,  and  run  after  and  pretend  to  bite 
him.  The  Dog  ran  after  the  Fox  a  long  distance,  and  then  let  him 
go,  and  came  back  to  his  master,  who  saw  that  the  Dog  had  chased  the 
Fox  away.  His  master  gave  some  meat  to  the  Dog,  who  took  the 
meat  and  followed  his  friend  where  he  had  chased  him  away.  At  last 
he  found  him  under  a  bush.  They  divided  the  meat.  After  they 
got  through,  the  Fox  said  that  they  would  stay  there  until  midnight, 
and  then  they  would  go  and  steal  something  to  eat,  when  the  people 
would  be  asleep  and  could  not  see  them.  So  at  midnight  both  went 
to  where  the  Dog's  master  lived.  They  went  to  the  house  just  next 
to  where  the  people  slept,  and  began  to  dig  a  hole  at  the  bottom  of  the 
house.  They  made  the  hole  through  the  house,  and  they  both  got 
inside. 

They  hunted  up  the  food,  and  they  found  some  cheese.  The  Fox 
made  a  belt  out  of  the  string,  and  made  holes  through  the  cheese,  as  he 
cut  it  into  little  pieces. 

When  the  Fox  had  put  the  cheese  all  around  his  waist,  he  stopped. 
After  a  while  he  found  a  bottle.  The  Fox  asked  the  Dog  what  it  was. 
The  Dog  said  thac  was  whiskey  and  made  people  crazy  when  they  drank 

it. 

The  Fox  wanted  to  take  a  drink.  The  Dog  tried  not  to  let  him, 
because  he  might  get  drunk  and  be  caught;  but  the  Dog  could  not  keep 
him  from  drinking.  So  at  last  the  Fox  took  a  drink.  The  Fox  wanted 
to  drink  some  more.  The  Dog  tried  his  best  not  to  let  him  take  any 
more  drink;  but  at  last  the  Dog  gave  it  up,  and  so  the  Fox  drank  some 
more.  And  after  a  while  the  Fox  said  he  would  yell  just  a  little,  but 
not  loud.     So  he  veiled.     The  Fox  said  again  he  would  yell  again, 


Pima  and  Papa  go  Legends  65 

and  that  would  be  just  a  little  louder  than  before.  The  Dog  tried  his 
best  not  to  let  him  yell,  but  could  not  hinder  him,  and  at  last  the 
Fox  yelled  loud.  His  friend  the  Dog  ran  out  of  the  house  and  barked 
at  him,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  dogs  came  and  barked  around  the  house. 

The  Dog's  master  heard  this  yell.  He  came  out  of  his  house  and 
went  around  the  other  house  where  he  kept  things  to  eat.  There 
he  found  a  hole  at  the  bottom  of  the  house,  and  then  he  got  in  the  house 
and  killed  the  Fox  in  there.  Then  he  went  to  bed  again;  and  in  the 
morning,  when  he  went  where  he  had  killed  the  Fox,  he  found  him 
lying  on  the  ground  with  a  belt  of  cheese.  He  called  his  family,  and 
they  had  a  laugh  at  him,  and  then  threw  him  out  of  the  house.  And 
from  then  on,  the  Dog's  master  liked  his  dog  and  always  treated  him 
kindly. 

The  dog  never  licked  from  now  on. 

This  is  all. 

Jo  Ties  Williams. 


VOL.   XXV. — NO.  95. — 5 


THE   HAPPY   HUNTING-GROUND   OF   THE   TEN'A 

BY  JOHN  VV.  CHAPMAN 

In  the  year  1887  the  writer  was  left  at  a  Httle  Indian  village  on  the 
lower  Yukon  River.  The  natives  of  this  region  are  variously  desig- 
nated as  Ingiliks,  Tinneh,  or  Ten'a.  They  are  of  Athapascan  stock, 
and  are  related  to  the  Apache  and  other  tribes  in  the  United  States. 
Twenty  years  ago  they  were  living  in  a  nearly  primitive  condition. 
Stone  implements  had  been  discarded  but  a  short  time;  and  their 
legends,  customs,  and  traditions  were  nearly  all  of  a  primitive  char- 
acter. On  a  hill  overlooking  the  village  was  one  of  the  ancient  burial- 
sites;  and  the  graves  were,  and  still  are,  objects  of  interest  to  visitors. 
Beside  each  grave,  attached  in  some  manner  to  a  stake  or  to  a  tree, 
was  an  implement  that  had  been  used  by  the  dead,  or  some  utensil 
intended  for  his  use.  These  were  invariably  broken  or  in  some  way 
rendered  unserviceable.  New  tin  pails  would  be  thrust  through  by  a 
stake,  and  nearly  every  grave  had  one  of  these  to  mark  it.  Guns, 
snowshoes,  and  other  implements  of  the  chase,  were  to  be  seen  here 
and  there.  During  the  warmer  months,  and  especially  in  the  spring, 
the  doleful  crooning  for  the  dead  could  be  heard  almost  any  morning 
from  the  hill-top;  and  if  one  cared  to  go  up,  he  might  find  a  man  sitting 
in  an  attitude  of  dejection  by  the  grave  of  his  wife,  or  a  widow,  with 
her  hair  cut  short  at  the  neck,  mourning  by  the  grave  of  her  husband. 

Such  marks  as  these,  indicating  a  tender  regard  for  the  memory  of 
the  dead,  and  probably  a  belief  in  their  continued  existence,  could 
not  fail  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  a  resident  among  a  people  so  lightly 
touched  by  civilization,  and  to  lead  him  off  into  the  pursuit  of  that 
phantom  which  has  tantalized  so  many  students  of  primitive  races, 
the  real  status  of  their  belief  in  a  future  existence.  In  the  present 
instance,  the  extreme  reticence  of  the  people  with  regard  to  this  sub- 
ject, and  the  vagueness  of  their  expressions  concerning  it,  had  pro- 
duced the  impression  upon  me  that  they  had  no  settled  belief.  Yet 
there  was  a  legend,  and,  after  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  of  daily 
intercourse  with  its  guardians,  it  was  run  to  earth  in  a  dug-out  on  the 
bank  of  a  tributary  of  the  Yukon.  There  were  some  things  that  kept 
curiosity  alive;  notably,  the  "parka"  feasts  given  every  year  in  the 
fall,  in  memory  of  deceased  relatives.  At  these  festivals  the  resources 
of  the  host  are  taxed  to  the  utmost,  and  often  the  accumulations  of 
years  are  given  away.  We  learned,  in  a  general  way,  that  it  was  done 
for  the  benefit  of  the  dead;  and  that  the  food  which  was  offered  the 

66 


The  Happy  Hunting-Ground  oj  the  Ten'a  67 

guests,  and  the  parkas  or  fur  garments  which  were  presented  to  them, 
in  some  manner  fed  and  clothed  the  spirits  of  those  who  were  gone. 
We  also  heard  of  a  belief  that  the  soul  goes  downward  into  the  earth  at 
death,  and  that  it  finds  a  trail  leading  up  the  Yukon  to  some  city  of  the 
dead  near  its  sources;  and  we  found  that  the  expression,  "He  has 
gone  up  the  river,"  would  nearly  always  provoke  a  smile,  and  some- 
times some  laughing  comment.  Little  by  little  it  came  out  that  there 
was  a  tradition  of  a  woman  who  in  some  way  had  been  taken  to  the 
city  of  the  dead,  and  had  returned  to  her  own  people;  and  at  length 
the  whole  story  was  told.      I  give  it  below,  without  eml)ellishment. 

"  There  was  once  a  family  living  upon  the  Yukon,  which  consisted  of  a 
man  and  his  wife,  several  sons,  and  a  daughter.  Since  the  girl  was  their 
only  sister,  her  brothers  were  very  fond  of  her,  and  did  everything  that  they 
could  think  of  to  make  her  happy.  Among  other  things,  they  hiade  her  a 
little  sled  for  her  own  use. 

"It  came  the  time  of  the  spring  hunt,  and  the  whole  family  prepared  to 
go  out  into  the  mountains.  When  all  was  ready,  they  started  out,  each 
one  pushing  his  sled;  the  girl  coming  last,  and  so  getting  the  benefit  of  the 
trail  made  by  the  rest. 

"As  they  went  along,  she  lagged  behind,  and  the  rest  of  the  family  passed 
out  6f  sight.  She  hurried  to  overtake  them,  putting  her  head  down  and 
pushing  with  all  her  might,  looking  up  occasionally  to  see  whether  she  could 
catch  sight  of  them.  At  length  she  saw  some  one;  but  when  she  came  near, 
it  proved  to  be,  not  her  own  friends,  but  two  men  who  were  strangers  to  her, 
standing  beside  the  path.  Their  forms  were  vague  and  shadowy,  and  she 
was  afraid  to  approach  them,  but  they  called  to  her  to  come  on;  and  since 
there  was  no  other  way  for  her  to  go,  she  went  forward  and  tried  to  pass 
them;  but  when  she  reached  them,  they  seized  her,  and  she  was  caught  up 
and  hurried  somewhere,  —  in  what  direction,  or  for  how  long  a  time,  she 
could  not  tell,  for  she  lost  consciousness,  and  did  not  come  to  herself  until 
she  found  that  she  was  being  set  down  in  front  of  a  house.  The  two  men 
were  still  with  her.  She  looked  around,  and  noticed  that  there  were  no 
tracks  about  the  house,  exce|)t  directly  in  front  of  the  door.  The  men  told 
her  to  go  in,  and  take  her  place  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  When  she 
entered,  she  found  that  it  was  so  dark  that  nothing  ct)uld  be  seen  except 
one  little  ray  of  light,  that  came  from  a  long  way  through  the  darkness 
overhead.  She  stood  for  a  long  time  watching  this,  with  her  face  turned 
upward,  when  she  heard  the  voice  of  an  old  woman  sa\ing,  '\\'h\-  did  they 
bring  that  woman  here?'  The  girl  did  not  know  that  there  was  any  one 
in  the  room,  and  she  tried  to  discover  some  one  in  the  darkness,  but  could 
not  sec  anything.  Another  voice  said,  'Why  don't  you  fix  her?'  and  she 
heard  the  old  woman  coughing  as  she  came  toward  her.  it  was  a  very  old 
woman,  with  a  wand  in  her  hand.  She  led  the  girl  over  and  stood  her  with 
her  face  tf)ward  the  door,  and  niade  passes  around  her  and  over  her  clothing 
with  the  wand,  when  suddenly  it  became  light,  and  she  saw  that  the  room 
was  full  of  women,  all  looking  at  her.  The  place  was  so  crowded,  that  there 
was  no  place  vacant  but  one,  which  was  reserved  for  the  two  men.  She 
r.ui  to  that  place  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  for  she  was  ashamed 


68  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

to  think  that  she  had  stood  so  long  looking  upward  in  the  presence  of  so 
many  people.  She  remained  there  until  evening,  when  the  two  young  men 
came  in.  They  staid  but  a  little  while,  and  then  went  out  again,  saying 
that  they  were  going  to  the  kashime. 

"Presently  some  one  started  a  fire  in  the  house,  and  the  girl  was  hardly 
able  to  breathe  on  account  of  the  stifling  atmosphere.  She  pulled  her 
parka  up  over  her  mouth,  and  found  that  in  that  way  she  could  get  a  little 
breath.  She  looked  down  at  the  fire  and  saw  the  sticks  moving  about  of 
themselves.  She  wondered  at  this,  and  jumped  down  and  ran  to  the  fire 
and  poked  the  sticks  together.  The  flame  leaped  up,  when  a  voice  at  her 
feet  said,  'What  did  you  do  that  for?  You  are  burning  me.'  Another  voice 
said,  'These  down-river  women  have  no  shame  about  anything.  They  do 
whatever  comes  into  their  heads.'  When  she  heard  that,  she  looked  more 
closely,  and  saw  the  outlines  of  the  figure  of  an  old  man  sitting  by  the  fire, 
with  his  parka  pulled  up,  so  as  to  warm  his  back.  It  was  he  who  had  com- 
plained of  being  burned.  The  reason  that  the  sticks  had  moved  was,  that 
there  were  a  great  many  women  from  the  village  outside,  getting  fire  from 
that  place,  but  she  was  unable  to  see  them.  She  heard  one  of  them  asking 
her  why  she  did  not  let  them  get  fire,  instead  of  poking  the  sticks  down. 
After  the  fire  had  burned  down  and  the  curtain  had  been  drawn  over  the 
smoke-hole,  the  women  told  her  to  go  out  of  doors  and  look  around.  She 
did  this,  and  found  that  the  house  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  village,  larger 
than  any  that  she  had  ever  seen.  The  place  was  full  of  people  walking 
back  and  forth;  and  the  houses  stretched  away  as  far  as  she  could  see,  and 
farther. 

"She  stood  looking  upon  this  scene  for  some  time,  and  then  turned  and 
went  into  the  house.  The  young  men  presently  came  in  from  the  kashime, 
and  their  mother  sent  them  a  bowl  of  fish  that  she  had  prepared  for  them. 
They  invited  the  girl  to  eat  with  them;  but  she  w^as  nauseated  by  the  very 
sight  of  the  food,  as  well  as  by  its  odor,  and  she  could  neither  eat  it,  nor  drink 
the  water  that  they  offered  her.  So  they  took  their  meal  without  her. 
Every  day  this  was  repeated.  Food  was  always  offered  her,  but  she  was 
never  able  to  touch  it;  and  her  only  entertainment  was  to  walk  outside. 

"The  other  women  also  made  fun  of  her,  probably  because  they  were 
jealous.  Day  by  day  she  became  weaker  from  the  want  of  food,  until  her 
strength  was  almost  gone.  It  became  more  difficult  for  her  to  breathe,  too, 
and  she  sat  with  her  face  under  her  parka  nearly  all  the  time.  One  day, 
when  she  was  at  death's  door,  she  sat  as  usual,  with  her  face  under  her 
Igarka,  and  thought  of  the  clear  water  that  she  used  to  drink  at  home, 
and  it  seemed  to  her  as  though  there  were  nothing  else  in  the  world  that 
would  taste  to  her  so  good.  She  felt  that  she  was  about  to  die,  and  she 
lifted  her  face  to  look  around,  when  she  was  delighted  to  see  at  her  side  a 
bowl  of  water,  clear  and  good,  and  beside  it  another  bowl  filled  with  mashed 
blueberries  mixed  with  seal-oil,  and  on  this  were  laid  the  finest  kind  of  dried 
white-fish.  She  caught  up  the  bowl  and  drank  eagerly,  and  afterward 
ate  some  of  the  food.  When  the  young  men  came  in,  she  asked  them  if 
they  would  not  like  some  of  her  food;  but  they  turned  away  from  it,  as  she 
had  done  from  theirs,  and  went  to  eating  their  own  distasteful  food.  This 
kept  up  for  half  a  year.  She  did  not  know  where  the  food  and  water  came 
from,  which  she  found  by  her  side  from  time  to  time.  It  was  really  her 
parents,  who  were  making  ofi"erings  for  her,  thinking  that  she  was  dead. 


The  Happy  Hunting-Ground  of  the  Ten'a  69 

"As  winter  drew  near,  the  people  among  whom  she  was  staying  began 
to  talk  of  the  winter  hunt,  and  to  make  preparations  for  it.  The  women 
who  lived  in  the  house,  and  who  were  jealous  of  her,  teased  her  by  telling 
her  that  there  was  a  hill  on  the  way  to  the  hunting-grounds,  which  she  would 
be  unable  to  climb,  and  that  she  would  be  left  behind.  The  mother  of  the 
two  young  men  assured  her  that  this  was  so,  but  she  told  her  that  she  would 
tell  her  what  to  do;  and  under  her  direction  she  made  a  great  quantity  of 
clothing,  —  mittens,  boots,  and  ornamented  moose-skin  coats,  —  which  she 
stowed  away  in  bags,  keeping  the  matter  a  secret  from  the  young  men. 
These  things  she  was  to  take  with  her  when  they  set  out  upon  the  hunt. 

"At  length  the  time  came  for  them  all  to  start.  The  people  of  the  village 
streamed  out  in  a  great  crowd,  and  the  trail  was  crowded  with  figures  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  The  family  to  which  the  girl  was  attached  were 
the  last  of  all  to  start,  and  the  girl  and  the  old  woman  were  in  the  rear. 
As  they  went  on,  the  hill  of  which  they  had  told  her  came  in  sight;  and  she 
saw  that  the  trail  led  up  a  steep  precipice,  which  it  would  be  impossible  for 
her  to  ascend.  Those  in  front  of  her  made  nothing  of  it,  going  uj)  as  lightly 
as  they  walked  upon  level  ground;  but  when  she  attempted  to  do  the  same 
thing,  not  only  was  she  unable  to  imitate  them,  but  her  feet  stuck  fast, 
and  she  could  not  lift  them.  The  young  men  had  gone  up,  and  were  out  of 
sight;  but  the  old  woman  had  remained  behind  with  the  girl,  who  finally 
found  that  when  she  attempted  to  turn  around  and  retrace  her  steps,  she 
could  do  so.  Now  the  old  woman  showed  her  good-will;  for  she  told  the 
girl  that  the  men  would  come  back  looking  for  her,  and  that  they  would 
search  for  her  four  days  before  giving  her  up,  and  that  if  they  found  her  they 
would  kill  her.  If  she  wished  to  go  on,  she  would  allow  herself  to  be  killed, 
and  then  she  would  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  up  the  precipice;  but  if  she 
wished  to  return  to  her  own  people,  she  must  go  back  to  the  Yukon  by  the 
trail  that  they  had  come,  and  by  following  it  she  would  come  out  at  a  fishing- 
camp,  where  there  were  great  numbers  of  fish-nets,  and  racks  upon  which 
to  dry  the  fish.  She  was  to  remain  there  until  the  spring;  and  when  the 
water  was  open  enough  for  her  to  fish,  she  was  to  catch  as  many  fish  as 
possible,  and  to  hang  them  on  the  frames  and  dry  them.  When  the  ice 
had  left  the  river,  means  would  be  provided  for  her  to  finish  her  journey. 

"So  the  girl  chose  to  go  back  to  her  own  people;  and  the  old  woman  dug 
out  a  great  hr»Ie  in  the  path  by  which  they  had  come,  and  made  the  girl  get 
into  it,  with  her  sled  and  the  bags  full  of  clothing,  and  then  threw  the  snow 
back  upon  her,  trampling  it  down  with  her  snowshocs,  so  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  tell  where  she  was  concealed.  The  men  came  back  and  looked 
for  the  girl,  as  the  old  woman  had  said  they  would  do.  Four  days  they 
searched  for  her;  and  when  they  finally  gave  it  uj)  and  went  away,  she  came 
out  from  under  the  snow,  and  went  down  to  the  fishing-camp,  as  she  had 
been  told  to  do.  Spring  came,  and  her  catch  of  fish  was  excellent;  but  she 
could  not  use  them,  for  they  affected  her  in  the  same  way  that  those  in  the 
house  had  done.  Notwithstanding  this,  she  kept  on  fishing,  ant!  hanging 
the  fish  up  to  dry,  according  to  the  directions  that  she  h.id  received. 

"One  night,  after  the  ice  had  stopped  running  in  the  river,  she  went  to 
befl  as  usual;  but  in  the  middle  of  the  night  she  was  awakened  by  a  great 
noise,  and,  running  out,  she  saw  an  enormous  log,  which  had  grounded  in 
front   of   her  camp.      It    was  a   green   spruce,   still   covered    with    branches. 


yo  Joiir?ia!  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Among  these  she  made  a  hiding-place  for  herself,  weaving  them  in  and  out; 
and  when  this  was  done,  she  went  to  the  house  for  the  bags  containing  the 
clothing,  and  stowed  them  away  in  her  retreat.  Then  she  attempted  to 
push  the  log  out  into  the  stream,  but  found  that  she  could  not  do  it.  Stop- 
ping for  a  moment  to  think  what  she  might  have  left  behind,  she  thought  of 
her  work-bag,  which  she  had  left  in  the  house  on  the  bank.  When  she  had 
run  to  get  this,  she  found  that  the  log  would  move,  and  so  she  set  out  upon 
her  journey  down  the  river.  The  log  kept  to  the  middle  of  the  river,  until 
she  came  in  sight  of  a  village,  and  heard  the  sound  of  singing  and  dancing. 
Some  one  said,  'Why  do  they  not  go  out  and  see  what  is  on  the  log?'  and 
finally  two  men  set  out  in  canoes  and  came  alongside.  She  kept  herself 
concealed  from  the  people  in  the  village,  but  spoke  to  the  men,  and  offered 
them  gifts  of  clothing  if  they  would  go  back  and  report  that  they  had  found 
nothing.     They  did  this,  and  she  kept  on  unmolested. 

"All  summer  and  fall  she  floated  on;  and  her  experience  at  the  first  village 
was  so  often  repeated,  that  she  found  that  her  stock  of  clothing  was  at  last 
exhausted.  Then,  just  before  the  river  began  to  freeze,  the  log  grounded 
again,  on  the  right  bank,  going  down;  and  she  went  ashore,  and  kept  on  her 
way  on  foot.  Village  after  village  she  passed,  when  one  day  she  saw  her 
father  making  his  way  upstream  in  an  old  broken  canoe.  She  called  to  him, 
but  he  seemed  not  to  hear  her.  Again  and  again  she  called,  and  ran  franti- 
cally along  the  bank,  waving  and  calling,  until  he  had  gone  out  of  sight;  and 
she  turned  back,  and  sorrowfully  resumed  her  journey  down  the  river. 

"The  cold  increased,  and  winter  came  on.  Then  she  turned  into  a  little 
bird,  and  kept  on  her  way.  As  she  came  to  a  village,  she  would  light  upon 
the  edge  of  the  open  smoke-hole  of  a  house,  and  sing;  and  the  people,  looking 
up,  would  say,  '  How  is  it  that  that  bird  sings  the  name  of  the  girl  who  died? ' 
for  she  sang  her  own  name.  At  length  she  arrived  at  her  parents'  village 
at  the  time  when  the  parka  feasts  are  now  held.  All  the  people  were  either 
in  their  own  houses  or  in  the  kashime.  She  resumed  her  own  shape,  and 
went  into  her  mother's  house,  and  saw  her  mother  sitting  by  the  fire, 
weeping.  She  paid  no  attention  to  her  daughter,  even  though  she  went  to 
her  and  put  her  arms  around  her,  and  kissed  her  on  the  cheek;  but  she 
stopped  crying,  to  say,  'What  is  it  that  makes  my  waist  and  my  cheek  feel 
so  strangely?'  The  girl  called  to  her  again  and  again;  but  she  did  not  seem 
to  hear,  even  though  she  sat  down  upon  her  lap  and  put  her  face  against 
her  mother's.  At  length  she  began  to  look  around,  and,  seeing  some  fish- 
eggs  lying  in  a  corner,  she  took  them  and  rubbed  them  over  her  clothing. 
Then  her  mother  saw  her  and  screamed,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  her 
appearance.  'It  is  my  own  daughter!'  said  she.  They  sat  down;  and  the 
girl  told  her  mother  all  that  had  happened  to  her,  and  how  she  had  seen 
her  father  going  up  the  river  in  a  broken  canoe.  '  He  died,'  said  her  mother, 
'in  the  fall,  just  before  the  river  froze,  and  we  broke  his  canoe  and  put  it 
on  the  grave.'  Then  she  asked  for  her  brothers,  and  learned  that  they  were 
in  the  kashime,  preparing  to  celebrate  a  parka  feast  for  the  sister  whom 
they  supposed  to  be  dead. 

"Now  the  mother  and  her  daughter  prepared  to  go  into  the  kashime,  and 
they  took  with  them  a  large  blanket  of  beaver-skin,  with  which  the  older 
woman  screened  the  other  when  they  entered.  In  this  way  she  reached 
a  corner  of  the  room  unperceived  by  those  who  were  there.     She  remained 


The  Happy  Hunting -GTOund  of  the  Ten' a  71 

quiet  until  they  were  about  to  begin  the  feast,  and  then  danced  out  into 
the  middle  of  the  room  before  them  all.  They  were  astonished  to  see  her, 
and  no  one  knew  what  to  do  or  say.  But  she  went  to  her  place;  and  then 
her  brothers  brought  her  the  parkas  that  they  had  intended  to  give  away, 
and  asked  her  to  tell  them  all  that  had  befallen  her;  and  from  that  time  to 
this,  the  parka  feasts  have  been  celebrated,  and  offerings  of  food  and  drink 
have  been  made  for  the  dead,  in  order  that  they  may  not  suffer  for  the  want 
of  anything  that  we  can  do  for  them.  Four  times  the  feast  must  be  given 
before  the  spirit  is  satisfied. 

"Now  as  to  the  log  upon  which  that  girl  came  down  the  Yukon,  it  came 
from  the  place  where  the  dead  are,  to  this  world  where  we  live;  and  as  to 
the  white  men  who  are  coming  into  this  country  in  such  numbers,  they  can 
do  with  impunity  things  that  would  kill  an  Indian,  because  they  are  the 
spirits  of  dead  Indians  who  have  come  back  to  live  among  us."  ^ 
Anvik,  Alaska 

'Compare  E.  W.  Nelson,  "The  Eskimo  about  Bering  Strait."  i8lh  Annual  Report  of 
the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  1896-97,  p.  488. 


AINU   FOLK-LORE  1 

BY    BRONISLAS    PILSUDSKI 
I.    THE   OWL 

I  WAS  living  happily  in  ihc  Horokaruru  ^  settlement,  in  that  part  of 
it  which  is  near  to  the  big  forest.  But  then  I  heard  that  the  sister  of 
Self-brought-up-Man  (Yairesupo)''  was  very  beautiful.  Therefore  I 
wanted  to  see  her  by  my  side,  always  sitting  at  my  knee,  nearer  to 
the  door.^  So  I  went  to  Self-brought-up-Man's  house  and  sat  down, 
Self-brought-up-Man  bade  me  good-morning,  but  he  never  turned  to 
speak  to  me.  I  said,  "Although  I  am  not  very  powerful,  nevertheless 
I  should  like  to  see  thy  younger  sister  in  my  house,  at  my  knee. 
That  is  wOiy  I  have  come  to  see  thee."  But  Self-brought-up-Man 
answered,  "Oh,  thou  scapegrace!  thou  art  only  a  useless  bird,  a  little 
man-owl,  covered  with  bristly  feathers,  —  a  small  owl,  —  and  I  have 
no  idea  of  letting  my  sister  marry  thee."  When  I  heard  those  insulting 
words,  a  mighty  anger  arose  in  my  heart.  I  went  out  furious,  and 
perched  on  the  top  of  a  big  "inau"*  built  at  the  back  of  the  house. 
There  I  sat,  full  of  wrath,  and  began  to  screech  and  to  shout  towards 
Self-brought-up-Man's  house.  My  cries  from  on  high  fell  on  the 
women's  corner.'  I  shouted  down  at  them  from  the  "inau."  And 
Self-brought-up-Man's  guardian  spirit,  the  angel  {seremaki),''  was  taken 
ill,  and  Self-brought-up-Man  himself  nearly  saw  the  lower  world.^ 

For  two  days,  for  three  days,  I  screeched;  and  at  last  Self-brought- 
up-Man  said,  "Little  man-owl,  do  not  be  angry  any  more!  I  am  no 
longer  going  to  withhold  my  sister  from  thee.  I  shall  allow  thee  to 
take  my  sister,  and  to  look  at  her,  while  she  shall  sit  at  thy  knee." 
So  I  kept  my  temper,  and  married  the  woman,  and  took  her  with  me 
everywhere  I  went.  Therefore  I  am  of  one  blood  with  mankind 
(entsiu).     I  am  only  a  little  man-owl,  but  next  of  kin  to  man. 

'  The  specimens  of  Ainu  folk-lore  here  given  were  gathered  among  the  Ainu  of  the 
Island  of  Saghalin.  Nos.  1-3  are  legendary  songs  (Oyna);  Nos.  4-6,  11,  tales  (Utsaskoma); 
Nos.  7-10,  fables  (Tuita);  No.  12,  a  poem  (Hauki). 

'  The  name  of  the  place  is  often  found  in  Ainu  folk-lore.     It  means  "the  back  sea." 
'  The  first  Ainu,  half  god  and  half  man,  —  the  usual  hero  in  all  Ainu  legendary  tales 
in  Saghalin,     The  literal  meaning  of  the  word  is  "the  man  who  brought  up  himself." 

♦  This  is  the  usual  place  of  the  wife  in  an  Ainu  house. 

'  A  stick  or  pole  with  shavings  partly  cut  off  and  hanging  down  from  it.  It  is  con- 
sidered to  be  an  offering  to  the  gofls. 

•  The  women's  corner  in  an  Ainu  house  is  the  left-hand  rear  corner,  the  men's  the 
right-hand  rear  corner,  standing  with  face  towards  the  door. 

'  s,  k,  are  used  to  express  palatized  s  and  k. 
»  Pohna  kotan  ("the  lower  world")  is  the  world  of  the  dead. 

72 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  73 

2.     THI£    OTTER 

I  lived  at  home,  but  tidings  reached  me  of  the  death  of  a  man  who 
was  drowned  at  sea.  In  order  to  hear  the  news,  I  went  to  the  door; 
but  I  forgot  my  sword,'  and  went  back,  and  then  to  the  door  again; 
but  then  I  had  forgotten  the  scabbard,  and  returned  once  more;  then 
I  forgot  the  hilt,  so  I  went  back  again;  then  I  forgot  the  belt  on  which 
the  sword  was  to  hang,  and  a  fourth  time  had  to  return.  At  last  I 
went  out  into  the  yard.  The  bringer  of  the  news  had  gone;  so  I  went 
ofT  to  the  forest,  on  his  trail.  Where  the  river  bends  I  waded  through 
the  water.  As  I  walked  by  the  side  of  the  river,  crossing  the  stream 
from  one  bank  to  the  other  whenever  I  arri\ed  at  a  bend,  "  Muke 
tantaise,  muke  tsahtse  tsahtse."-  I  saw  the  devil-bird  sitting  on  a 
tree.  He  was  terril^ly  angry.  "Kanitsin,  kanitsin,  kanitsin,  halloo, 
little  sea-otter,  kanitsin,  kanitsin!  I  want  to  catch  Self-brought-up- 
Man's  soul,  —  kanitsin,  kanitsin!  —  but  I  cannot."  That  is  what  he 
said.  Dissatisfied,  I  went  away,  —  "muke  tantaise,  muke  tsahtse 
tsahtse,"  walking  along  the  river,  and  came  to  a  place  where  two  streams 
part.  Betw'een  the  two  river-beds  there  was  a  huge  maple-tree,  with 
branches  stretching  to  the  east.  Among  these  branches  the  evil 
spirits  had  built  their  house.  In  that  house  there  was  a  big  case.  I 
prayed,  and  brought  on  a  flood.  The  maple-tree  was  uprooted,  and  the 
evil  spirits  were  carried  away  l)y  the  water.  I  took  the  case,  carried  it 
to  the  house  of  Self-brought-up-Man,  and  gave  it  to  him.  He  thanked 
me,  and  gave  me  the  "inau,"  and  I  became  a  new  being  {kamiii). 
I  am  li\  ing  happily,  and  am  now  the  guardian  of  Self-brought-up-Man. 

,^.     Till".    M.\N    IN    THE    MOON 

M\-  cldtr  sister  iirouglu  nie  up.  Every  day  she  went  out  to  fetch 
water.  She  hit  the  pail,  she  struck  the  scoop.  Once  she  went  out 
and  I  waited  for  her  in  vain.  Three  nights  I  waited,  and  she  came 
not.  At  last  I  got  anxious.  I  built  an  "inau"  to  my  grandmother 
the  Fire,  and  asked  her  about  my  sister,  but  got  no  answer.  Then, 
angry,  I  built  an  "inau  "to  the  god  of  the  liouse  {tzi'se  atamba  kamui), 
and  asked  him,  but  he  gave  no  answer.  So  I  went  out,  full  of  wrath,  to 
the  river's  side,  and  asked  the  river-god,  but  got  no  news.  I  went 
also  tf)  the  forest  and  built  an  "inau,"  and  asked  my  grandmother 
the  Red  I-'ir  (Picea),  but  she  did  not  know;  so  I  asked  the  Sii)crian 
SiKcr  l"ir  {Abies  Vritrlii),  but  in  vain,  l-ull  of  anger,  I  li-fl  them,  and 
went  to  my  grandmother  the  Willow-Rush  Thicket,  and  asked  her; 
and  she  said,  "I  am  a  willow-bush  thiekct,  and  fond  of  talking;  so 
listen  to  what  I  shall  tell  ihee.  Thy  sistt-r  went  up  to  tin-  moon,  and 
got  married  to  the  Man  in  the  Moon." 

'  When  news  of  a  man  having  born  drowned  Ih  hrnuxlil  to  a  \  ilhvKc  tho  jH-nplc  wlu) 
bring  it.  as  well  as  thow  wlu»  hear  it.  arc  armed  with  old  Japanese  swurds. 
'  Sounds  representinK  tlie  slow  marching  oi  the  oiler. 


74  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

I  got  very  angry  and  marched  away,  with  evil  steps,  back  to  the 
house.  As  soon  as  I  arrived  there,  I  took  an  arrow  with  a  black  feather, 
and  another  one  with  a  white  feather,  and  went  out.  First  I  let  fly  the 
arrow  with  the  black  feather,  then  the  one  with  the  white  feather,  and, 
holding  the  ends  of  the  arrows  with  my  two  hands,  I  rose  up  into  the 
air  among  the  clouds;  and  there  was  my  elder  sister,  who  stepped 
out  of  her  house  smiling,  and  the  ends  of  her  eyebrows  drooped. 
She  was  holding  the  hand  of  a  little  girl.  I  never  had  seen  such  a  girl 
before.  From  her  face,  beams  of  light  were  darting  forth.  That 
light  spread  out  on  all  sides,  and  struck  my  head.  Beautiful  eyes 
looked  at  me.  All  my  bad  feelings  vanished.  My  sister  said,  "Why 
art  thou  angry,  my  boy?  Dost  thou  not  see,  that,  thanks  to  the  Man 
in  the  Moon,  thou  wilt  be  able  to  marry  this  beautiful  little  girl?" 

From  that  time  I  was  in  high  spirits,  and  my  anger  was  gone.  I 
entered  the  house,  and  there  was  my  divine  brother-in-law  sitting  on 
an  iron  stool,  and  smiling  at  me  amiably.  I  was  contented  and  sat 
down.  Never  had  I  seen  a  man  like  that  before.  Near  the  corner 
where  the  "  inau  "  to  the  god  of  the  house  is  set,  there  was  a  high  case  ' 
which  reached  to  the  roof;  and  at  the  women's  corner  there  were  like- 
wise cases  leaning  on  beams.  In  the  middle,  on  an  iron  stool,  sat 
the  divine  man,  and  he  was  looking  at  me.  He  looked  kindly  at  me, 
as  though  he  might  have  seen  me  before. 

Then  the  mistress  of  the  house  gave  me  to  eat;  and  the  master  said, 
"I  am  a  god,  and  I  wanted  to  have  thy  sister;  therefore  I  took  her 
who  was  handling  the  pail  and  the  scoop  to  my  house.  There  I 
married  her,  and  we  are  living  very  happily.  Take  my  child  now,  and 
marry  her,  though  she  be  miserable,  then  wilt  thou  at  least  have  some- 
body to  fetch  thy  water." 

Since  that  time  I  have  been  related  to  the  Man  in  the  Moon.  He 
married  my  elder  sister,  and  they  had  two  children,  —  a  boy  and  a  girl. 
We  were  powerful,  and  had  no  children,  and  grew  old.  And  my  elder 
sister  had  children  and  brought  them  up,  and  then  grew  old.  This 
we  heard  from  the  birds. 

4.     ORIGIN    OF    SEAL    ISLAND    ("ROBIN    ISLAND") 

At  Tokes^  there  lived  in  former  years  a  great  many  Ainu  people. 
The  wife  of  an  Ainu  man  happened  once  to  be  pregnant.  The  Ainu  got 
angry''  and  hit  his  wife  with  a  thong  made  out  of  a  sea-lion  skin.     After 

'  In  cases  usually  set  at  this  place  the  Ainu  keep  their  treasures,  —  swords,  arrows,  bows, 
and  quivers.  AccordinR  to  the  height  of  this  place,  people  used  to  judge  of  the  wealth  of 
the  inhabitants. 

'  Tokcs  (literally  "  the  end  of  the  lake  ")  was  an  Ainu  settlement  situated  on  the  Bay 
of  Patience.     It  no  longer  exists. 

'  Because  the  woman  was  only  his  by  law:  she  was  betrothed  to  him,  but  she  had  not 
yet  lived  with  him. 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  75 

his  wrath  had  subsided  a  little,  he  slept  at  the  woman's  side,  and  was 
quiet  again. 

After  this,  two  girls  were  born  to  him.  One  of  them  became  a 
shaman,  and  her  name  was  Saunnonnu.^  Before  this,  there  was 
no  island  in  the  sea  near  Siretoh.-  Saunnonnu  was  the  sea-god's 
daughter,  and  the  second  girl  was  the  daughter  of  the  land-god.  But 
Saunnonnu  was  a  shaman,  and  she  pulled  out  of  the  sea  for  the  first 
time  an  island  which  had  not  existed  before. 

This  island  comes  after  the  one  that  is  next  to  the  land.  It  is  only 
visited  by  one-year-old  seals,  so  it  had  two  names,  —  Tukara  koro 
mosiri  ("the  island  of  the  one-year-old  seals")  and  Pompe  koro  mosiri 
(another  name  of  the  one-year-old  seals).  And  there  were  lots  of 
seals  on  the  island  and  in  the  surrounding  waters.  But  Saunnonnu 
swam  to  the  island  which  she  had  pulled  out  of  the  sea,  and  lived  there 
on  one  of  the  rocks.  And  her  people  came  to  the  island  in  boats, 
killed  many  seals,  loaded  the  boats  with  the  dead  animals,  and  re- 
turned to  their  country.  In  this  way  Saunnonnu's  kinsmen  lived 
very  well. 

Once  it  happened  that  some  people  who  lived  in  the  same  \illage 
quarrelled  with  one  another.  The  dispute  became  very  hot;  and  some 
of  the  inhabitants  got  into  a  boat,  taking  along  their  wives  with  their 
babies  in  their  arms.  They  all  sailed  away  to  the  island  where 
Saunnonnu  was  living,  and  went  ashore.  Saunnonnu,  who  had  seen 
them  come,  received  them  all ;  and  they  never  returned  to  the  land 
where  they  used  to  live. 

After  a  time,  however,  there  were  no  more  seals'  left  on  the  island, 
only  sea-lions.*  Those,  however,  also  died  out  after  a  while,  and  there 
was  only  a  lot  of  sea-bears;'  and  sea-lions  appear  only  seldom,  and  one 
at  a  time.     Thus  the  old  tale. 

5.   THE  s.\ulk-hunti-:r 

I  went  hunting  to  the  mountains,  by  my  little  river.  I  built  a 
house,  and  the  next  day  I  put  up  an  "inau"  at  the  back  of  it.  Then  I 
set  some  snares  (to  catch  sables),  spent  the  night  in  the  house,  and 
for  two  days  I  attended  to  the  snares.  That  makes  three  days  during 
which  time  I  was  out  hunting.  Returning  home,  I  looked  at  my 
snares,  and  had  caught  a  lot  of  game,  which  astonished  nie  a  little. 
Very  glad,  I  made  a  large  bundle  of  them,  and,  looking  at  my  tent,  I  saw 
some  smoke  coming  out  of  it.     Astonished,  I  came  nearer;  and  when 

'  Literally,  "the  flower  from  near  the  sea." 

'  The  Ainu  call  Ioiik  Iohkucs  of  land,  liki-  tin-  Cape  of  Patience,  "ends  of  the  earth" 
(Siretoh).     The  myth  is  about  Seal  Island. 

»  Phoca. 

«  Ollaria  StelUri. 

'  Ollaria  ursina. 


76  JoiiruaJ  of  American  Folk-Lore 

1  was  quite  close,  I  heard  a  noise  as  if  something  were  boihng.  I  was 
just  wondering  who  could  have  come  to  my  tent,  and  be  sitting  there, 
when,  stepping  in,  I  beheld  my  wife.  I  looked  at  the  fire,  and  saw 
that  she  was  cooking  something  while  sitting  on  my  bed.  I  took  oflf 
my  boots;  and,  as  she  asked  for  them,  I  handed  them  over  to  her, 
doubting  in  my  mind  whether  she  really  was  my  wife.  "Perhaps  she 
wants  to  make  me  rich,"  I  thought.  When  I  glanced  at  her  once  more, 
1  recognized  my  wife.  She  was  sitting  on  the  bed  with  a  satisfied  air. 
We  spent  the  night  in  the  tent,  but  we  slept  apart. 

The  next  morning  she  got  up,  and  began  to  go  in  and  out  of  the 
tent,  preparing  the  food.  I  rose  later,  and,  having  refreshed  my  face 
with  water,  I  sat  down  to  eat.  After  breakfast  the  woman  said, 
"After  I  am  gone,  I  will  give  thee  a  sign."  After  having  uttered 
these  words,  she  left  me.  "  It  is  a  female  bear,"  thought  I,  and  carved 
out  an  "inau;"  then  I  looked  up,  and  saw  her  actually  turn  into  a 
bear.  I  was  frightened,  and  placed  the  "inau"  wherever  she  had 
been,  and  I  spent  the  night  alone. 

The  next  morning  I  went  out  to  attend  to  my  snares.  Beginning 
at  the  nearest  one,  I  took  out  a  lot  of  game  from  each  one,  especially 
sables.  Then  the  time  for  setting  snares  was  over,  and  I  went  out 
hunting  during  the  summer,  and  was  very  lucky.  I  killed  a  great 
many  seals,  and  got  rich,  and  lived  very  well.^ 

6.     SEAL    ISLAND 

My  grandfather  had  brought  me  up,  feeding  me  on  the  flesh  of 
sea-animals  which  he  brought  home.  Thus  we  lived.  One  year,  as 
usual,  my  grandfather  went  out  to  sea  to  kill  some  animals,  that  I 
might  have  something  to  eat.  When  he  came  home,  late  in  the  after- 
noon, he  had  killed  no  game.  Then  he  said  to  me,  "I  have  been  on 
the  island  where  I  go  every  year  to  get  game  for  our  living,  but  there 
was  not  one  seal  on  the  island.  I  heard  their  roaring,  though,  far  out 
at  sea, — the  roaring  of  old  beasts.  So  I  thought  that  the  old  seals 
had  wandered  away  from  our  island  to  another  place.  It  is  a  long 
time  since  the  island  that  has  fed  us  for  so  long  has  been  crowded  with 
seals.  Now  there  is  not  one  animal  left  there;  so  I  came  back  without 
killing  anything."     This  is  what  my  grandfather  said. 

From  the  moment  I  heard  his  words,  I  kept  thinking  how  I  might 
reach  this  far-off  island.  The  thought  kept  me  awake  nights.  One 
night,  when  my  grandfather  was  sound  asleep,  I  went  down  to  the 
seashore.  There  I  took  the  boat  which  my  grandfather  used  for 
hunting,  pulled  it  out  on  the  water,  and  steered  in  the  direction  of 

■  The  Ainu  legend  relates  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  forests  come  to  the  Ainu  people 
in  the  shape  of  men  or  women,  to  help  them  hunt.  They  are  called  Kimukaiku  ("  people  of 
the  forest")  or  oken  ohkayo  ("man  of  the  forest"),  okcn  mahncku  ("woman  of  the 
forest"). 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  jj 

the  other  sea.  Rowing  with  all  my  strength,  I  soon  came  in  sight  of 
an  island  far  out  at  sea.  A  few  more  strokes  of  the  oars  brought  me 
([uite  close  to  it,  and  at  last  I  was  able  to  land. 

There  were  lots  of  seals  e\erywhere.  But  from  the  end  of  the  island 
a  miserable  little  man  appeared.  He  approached,  and  soon  began  to 
scold  me.  "Why  did  you  come?  Why  did  yon  come  out  on  this 
island?  The  creatures  here  are  much  worse  than  elsewhere,  so  why  did 
you  come?  It  is  very  dangerous  to  stay  here.  Hide  your  boat  in 
yonder  cave  in  the  rock,  fill  it  with  killed  seals,  and  secrete  yourself 
among  their  bodies.  The  awful  god  of  the  island  is  near,  so  you  must 
hide  before  he  sees  you." 

The  god  then  arrived;  and  I  heard  him  ask,  "What  is  this  boat?" 
And  Self-brought-up-Man  answered,  "It  is  my  boat." — "But  the 
little  sitting-board  is  fastened  to  it  with  a  rope  which  was  twisted 
with  the  left  hand,  and  it  smells  like  the  smell  of  a  human  being," 
said  the  evil  god  again.  "I  am  only  half  god  and  half  man,"  Self- 
brought-up-Man  answered,  "so  the  boat  may  be  human,  and  its  smell 
is  human." — "Self-brought-up-Man,"  said  the  god,  "you  are  mighty 
and  fearless,  and  so  are  your  deeds;  but  to-day  we  shall  measure  our 
powers."     This  is  what  he  said,  and  I  heard  it. 

Then  the  evil  god  went  home;  and  Self-brought-up-Man  turned 
towards  me,  and  said,  "My  child,  go  back  to  your  village  as  quickly 
as  you  can;  and  when  you  are  sailing  near  the  head'  of  the  island, 
carve  an  "inau"  out  of  a  birch-tree,  and  one  out  of  an  ash-tree,  and 
put  them  into  your  boat.  Carve  out  an  "inau"  from  tiic  "uita" 
tree,'^  which  is  the  tree  of  the  evil  god,  and  leave  it  on  the  island.  \'()ur 
father  was  a  great  friend  of  mine  in  my  youth,  therefore  I  warn  \ou 
not  to  come  here  again,  because  this  land  is  very  dangerous.  When 
you  have  gone,  and  are  in  the  middle  of  the  sea,  you  will  In  ar  ihc  din 
and  rrjar  of  the  battle  between  the  god  and  myself,  and  a  bloocU'  rain 
will  fall  on  your  boat  from  above.  This  will  be  a  sign  that  I  am  hurt. 
But  you  will  go  farther  still,  and  again  a  blooch'  rain  will  fall  (ai  the 
rear  of  your  boat  this  time),  and  you  will  look  back  and  see  me  kill 
that  evil  god.  .Xs  long  as  you  are  awa\'  from  home,  Nour  grandlatlur 
will  lie  uiic.isy  about  \nu.  He  is  walking  to  and  fro  on  the  path  <»n 
which  \'ou  went  away,  to  the  iiid  of  it,  leaning  on  a  big  stick.  He 
knows  that  you  are  on  this  island,  and  he-  is  pr. tying  to  me  to  lulj)  \tni. 
His  words  strike  the  clouds,  and  iii>  j)rayers  fall  on  ni\  lu-ad  from  aboxc. 
I)  reel  \'our  boat  under  that  rainbow!" 

On  looking  up,  1  saw  that  I  was  near  m\'  home,  and  luy  grandf.itlur 

'  Usually  the  north  or  cast  side  of  a  land  \*  r()nsi(ifr<>(l  a>*  "itn'  luad  "  or  brKinniiiK;  tin* 
south  or  west,  as  "the  foot"  or  ond. 

'  The  "uita"  tree  is  seldom  found  in  llu-  !t<>ull»Tn  part  of  SiiKhaiin.  I  never  s;i\v  it. 
and  do  not  know  what  it  is  like.  Its  leaves,  soakrd  in  water,  pntduie  a  beverage  which 
is  considered  to  be  a  remedy  for  coughs. 


78  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lorc 

was  walking  on  the  sand  of  ihc  shore,  leaning  on  a  thick  stick.  He 
was  looking  so  hard  up  at  the  sky,  and  was  praying  so  fervently,  that 
he  never  noticed  me,  though  I  landed  just  in  front  of  him.  I  took 
two  seals  out  of  the  boat,  one  in  each  hand,  carried  them  to  my  grand- 
father, and  threw  them  down  in  front  of  him.  He  was  so  frightened 
that  he  fell  down  on  his  back.  Then  only  did  he  look  at  me,  and  he 
was  very  glad  to  see  me.  He  patted  me  on  the  back  and  on  the  chest, 
and  began  to  scold  me  gently.  "What  have  you  been  doing?  Why 
did  you  go  to  that  island?  If  it  had  not  been  for  my  friend,  the  god 
Samaye,^  I  should  see  your  body  no  more." 

So  I  went  home,  skinned  the  dead  animals,  cut  out  quantities  of 
meat,  cooked  it,  and  gave  my  grandfather  to  eat.  After  a  time  my 
grandfather  said  to  me,  "I  am  old,  and  my  death  is  near.  After  I 
am  dead,  do  not  go  to  the  island  whence  you  have  just  come,  because 
it  is  dangerous  for  you." 

7.     WHY    foxes'    eyes    SLANT,   AND   WHY    THE    HARE   HAS   NO   TAIL 

A  Bear  was  living  with  a  Fox.  They  made  a  sledge  and  dragged 
each  other  along.  First  the  Bear  dragged  the  Fox,  but  he  got  tired. 
So  afterwards  the  Fox  dragged  the  Bear,  but  he  ran  into  a  narrow 
place  between  some  trees.  The  Bear  screamed,  "You  are  frightful! 
Where  the  trees  grow  so  thick,  do  not  run  so  fast;  but  where  there  is 
room  enough,  you  may  run!"  This  the  Bear  said,  but  the  Fox  did 
not  listen  to  him.  They  soon  arrived  at  a  hill.  Up  they  climbed  to 
the  top  of  it;  but  there  the  Fox  upset  the  sledge,  and  the  Bear  rolled 
down  and  was  killed.  The  Fox  skinned  him,  took  him  home,  and 
ate  his  meat.  When  he  had  finished  eating,  he  tied  a  bladder  to  his 
tail. 

Soon  the  Fox  felt  hungry  again,  so  he  went  to  the  seashore  to  look 
for  food.  He  saw  a  herd  of  reindeer;  and  one  of  them  said,  "Listen, 
Fox!  Why  is  it  that  you  have  that  funny  thing  tied  to  your  tail?" 
Thus  he  asked.  "Let  me  stand  among  you,"  said  the  Fox,  "and  you 
butt  at  me  with  your  antlers,  and  you  also  will  have  such  things  tied 
to  your  tails."  So  two  reindeer  took  the  Fox  between  them,  and  tried 
to  toss  him  with  their  antlers;  but  the  Fox  leaped  away,  and  they  only 
hit  each  other  and  died.  The  Fox  skinned  them,  and  took  them  home 
and  ate  their  meat. 

When  he  had  eaten  it  all,  however,  he  was  hungry  again;  so  he  went 
to  the  seashore  to  look  for  some  food.  After  a  while  he  perceived  a 
hare.  The  Hare  said,  "Man-Fox,  what  did  you  do  that  you  have 
such  a  thing  tied  to  your  tail?" — "You  could  also  have  such  a  thing 
if  you  would  follow  my  advice.     Dig  a  hole  in  the  ice,  put  your  tail 

'  This  is  another  name  of  Sclf-brought-up-Man,  given  by  people  who  have  lived  in 
Vezo.     It  seems  to  be  derived  from  the  Japanese  Sama-,  an  honorific  term. 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  79 

into  the  hole,  and  strike  the  snow  with  your  fore-paws,  then  you  will 
get  something  tied  to  your  tail."  This  the  Fox  said;  and  the  Hare 
believed,  and  did  as  he  was  told,  but  his  tail  froze  to  the  ice.  The  Fox 
sprang  at  him;  but  the  Hare  jumped  up,  and  tore  himself  loose. 

The  Fox,  in  dismay,  went  to  the  seashore,  where  he  saw  a  bird 
sitting  on  the  ice.  He  stole  near  the  bird;  but  it  flew  away,  and 
screamed,  "You  empty  bag!  Fat  meat  is  good  to  eat.  You  thought 
you  would  get  me!"  and  off  it  went.  But  the  Fox  was  grieved  to  have 
lost  his  prey,  and  looked  after  it  a  long  time. 

This  is  why  foxes'  eyes  slant,  and  the  hare  once  had  a  tail,  but, 
because  of  the  fox's  deceit,  he  now  lacks  a  tail. 

8.  THK    CROW    AND    THK    MUSSEL 

There  was  once  an  f)ld  Oow  who  had  a  daughter.  This  little  one 
went  to  the  seashore  to  look  for  something  to  eat  among  the  things 
which  the  waves  had  thrown  up  on  land.  Seeing  a  mussel,  she 
began  to  peck  at  the  shell;  but  it  closed  suddenly,  and  squeezed  the 
nose  of  the  little  Crow.  From  the  sea  came  a  l)ird,  who  shouted, 
"Squeeze  tighter!"  But  the  little  Crow  implored,  "Let  me  out, 
mussel!"  after  which  she  walked  home,  groaning,  "E,  e!"  The  old 
Crow  asked,  "What  did  you  do,  that  you  have  your  beak  broken  off?" 
And  the  little  one  answered,  "As  I  went  out  on  the  seashore,  I  saw 
a  mussel,  and  began  to  peck  at  it  with  my  beak;  but  I  got  my  nose 
caught,  and  it  broke  off.  Mother,  send  for  the  little  bird  Turn-Head 
(lynx  torquillay  to  cure  me!"  said  the  little  Crow. 

So  the  old  Crow  went  out,  and  called,  "Little  woman  Turn-Head, 
come  and  cure  my  child!"  The  old  Turn-Head  arri\ed,  and  healed 
the  beak,  and  it  got  well.  "When  you  go  out  to  pick  grass  a///Mr/' 
(an  edible  grass  of  the  Ranunculacea  species),  do  not  take  too  much  at 
a  time!"  she  said,  and  went  awa\-. 

After  a  time,  however,  the  little  Crow  took  loo  nuu  h  grass  into 
her  beak.  The  old  woman  Turn-Head  was  summoned;  Imi  sIk-  said, 
"When  I  told  you  not  to  take  much  a/;//<r/-grass,  you  did  not  obey, 
and  you  pulled  too  much  of  the  dry  grass.  Now  I  cannot  help  you 
any  more."     The  beak  of  this  little  Crow  decayed,  and  ilu-  bird  died. 

9.  IN  01  KST  oi"  Till-:  si:a-li()N 

My  elder  brother  lived  w  itii  nic  I  wa-^  longing  to  see  the  Se.i-Lion, 
whfjin  I  had  never  seen.  \'(arMing  lor  him,  1  sang;  knowing  onU-  his 
name,  I  loved  him  dearly.  1  kept  asking  my  brother  (to  take  me  to 
the  Sea-Lion),  till  he  got  tired  of  ni\  entreaties,  and  began  to  build 
a  boat.  He  took  an  axe  and  struck  the  wood:  "  Kolohno,  tohno, 
kotonu-tonu!"  When  he  had  liiUNhed  the  boat,  he  c.ime  intf>  the 
house,  and  said,  "Quick,  get  ready  for  the  jouriie\  !  \'ou  shall  go  with 
'  Tliis  l)ir<l  is  considered  in  fal)le!<  as  a  ptiysician. 


8o  Journal  of  American  Fol-Lore 

me  to  the  Sea-Lion,  whom  you  have  never  seen,  and  whom  you  are 
longing  to  see."  This  he  said.  And  I  put  two  ear-rings  into  the  lower 
ear-hole,  and  two  ear-rings  into  the  upper  ear-hole.  I  arranged  my 
hair,  and  went  out  with  my  elder  brother. 

We  got  into  the  boat,  and  he  took  me  to  a  small  island,  visible  from 
afar.  I  thought  we  had  arrived  at  the  Sea-Lion's  den.  We  knocked 
against  the  rocks  which  stood  out  of  the  water.  The  hills  near  the 
shore  were  hidden  now;  also  the  mountains,  that  were  farther  inland. 
We  went  quite  close  to  the  reefs,  and  I  looked  around  in  order  to  see 
whether  there  were  any  signs  of  men  having  passed;  but  there  was 
not  a  trace  of  a  man  about  us.  We  went  into  a  house,  and  I  perceived 
an  old  Sea-Lion.  On  his  old  w^ound  there  was  purulent  matter,  and 
on  the  fresh  wound  was  a  scab.  My  brother  led  me  into  the  house, 
then  he  left  me  alone  and  returned.  I  remained,  and  lived  very 
miserably  at  this  place. 

10.    THE  WOMAN   AND   THE   DEMON 

I  w'as  the  only  woman  living.  Once  I  heard  the  steps  of  some  one 
approaching  the  house.  I  went  out  to  see  who  it  was,  and  saw  a 
mighty  demon  in  the  shape  of  a  beautiful  man.  I  returned  to  the 
house,  spread  out  mattings  on  the  floor,  and  the  man  came  in.  I 
gave  him  something  to  eat;  and  he  said,  "As  you  are  such  a  beautiful 
woman,  I  cannot  marry  you  without  offering  you  precious  things  as 
a  reward.  Therefore  I  shall  go  back  to  my  country  to  fetch  some 
jewels."  Thus  he  said,  and,  having  cut  enough  wood  to  fill  the  room 
and  the  passage,  he  disappeared.  "Use  your  wood  economically,"  he 
said  on  parting. 

One  day  I  heard  the  steps  of  a  man  near  the  hut,  and  soon  I  saw  a 
stranger  coming  in.  His  hair  was  shaggy.  He  began  to  burn  the 
cut  wood  in  the  house,  and  burned  whole  piles  of  it  until  it  was  all 
gone.  Then  he  requested  me  to  go  towards  the  forest  with  him,  but 
I  refused.  He  would  carry  me  on  his  back.  He  took  the  icicles 
which  were  hanging  from  my  nose  and  stuck  them  on  the  door;  he 
cut  off  the  hair  on  my  temples  and  hung  it  up  at  one  side  of  the  door. 
Then  by  main  force  he  put  me  on  his  back  and  carried  me  to  the 
forest,  and  we  arrived  at  a  house. 

While  living  with  him,  I  once  heard  a  man  who  came  to  our  house 
crying.  As  soon  as  the  man  who  lived  with  me  heard  him,  he  hid 
me  away  in  a  corner.  The  other  came  in  from  outside.  As  soon  as  I 
looked  at  him,  I  recognized  him  as  the  one  who  had  once  promised  to 
marry  me,  and  who  had  gone  to  get  precious  things  for  me.  "While 
living  here,  did  you  not  see  a  woman?"  he  asked.  "Though  I  live 
here,  I  never  saw  any  woman  around,"  answered  my  companion.  And 
the  mighty  demon  said,  "When,  on  stepping  out  of  the  hut,  you  see 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  8i 

fog  at  the  end  of  the  island,  and  fog  at  the  beginning,  and  fog  in  the 
middle,  you  will  know  that  I  am  dead."  Thus  he  said,  and  went  away. 
I  also  stepped  out  of  the  hut,  and  saw  fog  at  the  end  of  the  island 
and  at  the  beginning  and  in  the  middle,  and  was  sure  the  man  had 
died,  and  went  to  see.  I  stumbled  over  a  dead  man  whose  head  was 
lying  on  a  case  containing  jewels.  I  put  my  head  on  his  and  wept. 
But  from  the  opposite  side  came  a  godlike,  beautiful  man.  "Why  do 
you  pity  the  mighty  demon?"  he  asked.  "His  face  is  handsome  to 
look  at,  but  his  soul  is  black."  Thus  saying,  he  took  me  with  him, 
and  from  that  time  I  lived  quite  well. 

II.     SAMAYEKURU    AND    HIS    SISTER 

I  was  the  god  of  the  upper  heaven.     There  were  many  gods  around, 
but,  looking  at  the  places  where  they  lived,  I  nowhere  could  find  a 
woman  like  myself.     In  the  lower  world  in  the  Ainu  land,  the  younger 
sister  of  Samayekuru,^  though  she  was  only  an  Ainu  woman,  had  a 
face  like  mine.     She  seemed  to  be  quite  like  myself.     So  I  came  down 
to  the  lower  world.     In  the  yard,  near  Samayekuru's  house,  fresh  fish 
were  hanging  out  on  sticks  to  dry.     Samayekuru  himself  was  out 
hunting  with  his  sister,  and  so  was  not  at  home.     I  entered  the  empty 
house.     As  Samayekuru  was  only  a  man,  I  thought  he  must  be  weaker 
than  I.     I  went  to  the  sticks  on  which  the  fresh  fish  were  hanging, 
threw  down  one  big  salmon  {Saltno  lagocephaliis) ,  and  assumed  its 
shape.     Then  I  waited  till  Samayekuru  and  his  sister  brought  home  a 
big  litter  full  of  bear-meat.     They  pushed  the  litter  in  through  an 
opening  in  the  back  wall,  after  which  Samayekuru's  sister  went  into 
the  hut  and  pulled  in  the  litter.     They  were  both  tired,  so  they  lighted 
a  big  fire;  and  Samayekuru  said,  "I  am  tired  of  eating  bear-meat  all 
the  time.     Go  and  get  some  fresh  fish  for  me  to  eat."     His  sister  went 
out,  approached  the  sticks  with  the  fish,  and  tried  to  select  one.     At 
last  she  took  me  down,  and  carried  me  into  the  house.     Samayekuru 
said,  "The  fresh  fish  is  too  cold,  warm  it  a  little  at  the  fire."     Thus  he 
said;  and  she  tied  a  thread  to  my  tail  and  hung  me,  head  down,  on 
the  hook  on  which  the  kettle  usually  hangs.     But  Samayekuru  re- 
marked, "The  fire  is  not  big  enough:  put  on  some  more  wood,  and 
make  it  bigger."     His  sister  then  went  out  to  get  scnne  wood,  and 
brought  in  a  whole  pile.     A  huge  fire  blazed  up,  and  my  head  became 
hot.     It  crackled  aloud  "putsi!"  so  violently  that  it  huriii  nu-.     My 
soul  went  up  to  the  tail,  and  was  nearly  burning.      I  got  frightened, 
pushed  aside  the  beams  of  the  roof  with  much  noise,  and  got  out  into 
the  fresh  air.     Making  a  terrible  ado.  1  returned  to  the  upper  hraNcn. 

When  I  reached  home,  I  cried,  "Samayekuru  was  only  a  man  i)orn 
on  the  poor  eartli,  ind  I  was  a  mighty  god!"  and  I  thought  that  a  man 

'   .Anottior  tuinie  of  Sclf-hrouKlit-iip-Man  (Vayrcsuix)). 
vol..   XXV. — NO.  95. — 0 


82  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

born  on  the  poor  carih  would  be  weaker  than  I,  but  he  was  stronger. 
Angrily  I  went  down  to  earth  again.  Saniayekuru  was  out  hunting 
with  his  sister,  as  before,  and  I  entered  the  empty  house.  I  hid  away 
Samayekuru's  dish,  and  turned  into  a  dish  myself  and  w^aited.  At  last 
I  heard  the  steps  of  Samayekuru  and  his  sister,  who  were  coming 
home.  Through  the  opening  in  the  back  wall  they  pushed  in  the 
litter  with  the  bear-meat.  The  younger  sister  came  in  by  the  door, 
and  took  the  litter  with  the  meat.  They  w^ere  tired,  and  made  a  big 
fire,  after  which  Samayekuru  said  to  his  sister,  "Did  you  wash  your 
dishes  this  morning  before  going  out  hunting?" — "No,  I  did  not  wash 
them,"  answered  the  sister.  "Then  prepare  some  hot  water  and  wash 
them  now,"  he  ordered.  So  she  got  up,  took  her  big  kettle,  filled  it 
with  water,  and  hung  it  over  the  fire  to  get  it  hot.  As  soon  as  the 
water  was  boiling,  she  brought  her  brother's  dish.  I  thought  I  should 
die  if  she  should  throw  me  into  the  boiling  water.  And  she  threw  me 
in;  but  I  jumped  out  of  the  kettle,  pushed  away  the  roof  near  the 
door  with  a  loud  rumbling  noise,  and  flew  out.  Then  I  noisily  raised 
myself  to  the  upper  heaven,  and  returned  to  my  divine  home. 

When  I  was  inside,  I  began  to  think,  "Samayekuru  is  a  man  only, 
so  he  ought  to  be  weaker  than  I  am,  but  he  has  turned  out  to  be 
stronger."  Full  of  anger,  I  sat  brooding  a  long  time.  At  last  I 
decided  to  go  down  once  more,  without  changing  my  shape,  in  my  own 
divine,  beautiful  body.  So  I  did,  and  went  down  to  the  yard  near 
Samayekuru's  house,  and  stood  there;  but  I  did  not  want  to  enter  the 
house  as  a  guest.  Samayekuru's  sister  went  out  in  the  yard,  and 
said,  "I  know  that  you  do  not  care  to  step  into  our  house.  You  are 
walking  angrily  about,  so  I  shall  not  lead  you  in;  but  yonder  there  is 
my  little  metal  hut,  and  you  will  do  well  to  go  there."  So  I  went 
towards  this  little  house,  and  at  night  I  stepped  in  and  sat  down. 

"Samayekuru  surely  is  angry  with  me,"  I  thought.  "Though  I 
be  a  mighty  god,  and  though  Samayekuru  be  born  on  this  poor  earth, 
he  has  beaten  me,"  I  thought,  and  decided  to  tell  him  so.  Suddenly, 
however,  I  smelled  the  smell  of  dung.  I  thought  I  had  come  to  a  little 
silver  house.  But  why  this  nasty  smell  of  dung?  I  looked  around,  and 
there  I  was,  sitting  in  a  very  filthy  place;  and  Samayekuru  and  his 
sister  had  poured  out  their  dung  on  me,  and  soiled  me  from  head  to 
foot.  "I  am  a  mighty  god,  and  Samayekuru  is  only  a  man,  born  on 
earth;  but  as  to  power,  he  has  entirely  beaten  me,"  thought  I. 
"Whatever  I  might  do,  I  could  never  surpass  Samayekuru  in  power, 
so  I  had  better  calm  down." 

From  the  filthy  place  where  I  was  sitting,  I  leaped  up  with  a  terrible 
noise,  went  to  the  upper  heaven,  and  returned  home,  quite  soiled 
with  dung  from  head  to  foot.  I  took  off  my  iron  armor  and  washed  it, 
after  having  washed  my  head  and  my  whole  body.     I  was  quite  angry, 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  83 

and  sat  down  full  of  wrath.  My  brothers,  the  other  gods,  talked  with 
one  another,  and  said,  "As  we  walked  around  the  house,  in  the  yard, 
we  perceived  a  nasty  smell."  I  heard  these  words,  hut  made  no  reply, 
and  sat  quite  ashamed.  One  day,  however,  when  I  was  seated,  my 
elder  brother  came  and  began  to  scold  me.  "What  is  it?  Samaye- 
kuru  is  so  powerful,  that  he  wants  to  beat  every  one,  and  you  are 
stupid  to  have  roused  him."     Thus  they  all  scolded  me. 

12.     A    POEM 

From  childhood  I  was  brought  up  by  my  aunt,  who  fed  me  with  fine 
food.  She  fed  me  very  well  indeed,  and  brought  me  up  splendidly  in 
my  father's  house.  On  the  floor  there  was  a  large  pile  of  iron  cases  ^ 
on  which  iron  pots  were  standing,  one  within  another;  and  iron  pans 
in  a  row,  also  one  within  another.  It  was  a  splendid  house,  a  fine 
house!  In  this  house  on  the  seashore  I  was  living.  My  aunt  gave 
me  every  day  a  plate  of  good  meat  and  of  grease,  so  full  that  I  could 
not  even  hold  it.     I  ate,  and  thus  we  lived. 

At  last  I  grew  up  and  became  a  large  girl.  So  my  aunt  took  out 
different  kinds  of  silk,  and  bade  me  sew.  But  I  did  not  know  how  to 
sew.  I  tangled  the  thread,  and  that  ended  it.  My  aunt  scolded  me. 
"My  niece  does  not  know  how  to  sew!  Why  are  you  such  a  dullard?" 
Thus  she  spoke.     After  trying  each  day,  I  at  last  learned  how  to  sew. 

My  aunt  said,  "Far  off  in  Otasam  lives  your  betrothed  one.  He  is 
the  younger  of  three  brothers.  A  piece  of  silk  was  torn  in  halves 
for  you  and  him.'  He  must  be  grown  up  now.  He  is  very  rich, 
and  will  not  come  to  you;  therefore  you  had  better  go  to  him, 
to  the  nispa  ('rich  man')."  This  she  said;  and  I  heard  it,  and 
thought,  "Until  now  my  aunt  has  t)rought  me  up  well.  If  I  leave  her 
for  one  day  only,  I  rejoice  to  see  her  again."  I  was  grieved,  and 
remained.  My  aunt,  however,  spoke  to  me  again  about  it,  and  e\erv 
day  she  repeated  the  same  words. 

So  at  last  I  gathered  the  most  necessary  of  m\'  things,  made  a  l)ag 
in  which  to  take  them  on  my  back,  and  put  my  clothes  in  properly. 
I  prepared  many  different  things;  and  when  I  was  ready  to  start,  my 
aunt  said,  "In  Otasam,  where  you  are  going,  there  arc  three  brothers 
nispa  ('rich  men').  The  eldest  one  lives  in  the  house  nearest  to  us; 
in  the  middle  one  lives  the  youngest,  with  his  younger  sister;  and  the 
third  one  lives  at  the  end  of  the  settlement.  When  you  arrive,  you 
will  do  well  to  enter  the  hut  that  is  in  the  middle,  which  belongs  to  the 
youngest  brother."     This  my  aunt  told  me  while  I  was  taking  leave. 

Then  I  went  away.  Soon  I  saw  before  me  a  place  situated  high 
up.      I    stopped   at   the   mountain   Tomisan;  then    I    walked   on,   and 

'   A  .sinii  of  wraith  and  order. 

•  This  is  the  usual  ceremony  of  betrothal  in  Buch  cas^s. 


84  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

turned  around  and  looked.  There  was  my  aunt,  standing  in  front  of 
her  house,  and  she  was  following  me  with  her  eyes.  I  continued  my 
march  again,  and,  turning  around,  I  still  saw  her  looking  after  me. 
Finally  I  directed  my  steps  towards  the  village  Otasam,  and  set  out  on 
the  way  to  it.  I  looked,  and  there  was  a  big  house,  just  as  my  aunt 
had  described  it  to  me;  and  behind  it,  as  she  had  told  me,  was  to  be 
the  house  of  my  betrothed  one,  but,  glancing  around,  I  saw  only  one 
house  in  front  of  me.  I  began  to  think,  and  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  I  was  walking  on  the  road  to  the  house  of  the  eldest  rich  brother. 
When  I  looked  around,  I  saw  another  path,  which  I  took;  but  soon  I 
noticed  that  it  led  to  the  same  house.  I  understood.  "They  are 
brothers,"  I  thought;  "and  if  I  go  to  the  eldest  of  them,  the  gods  will 
have  made  me  do  it."  So  I  entered  the  house,  which  was  full  of 
furniture,  quite  uncommon  and  divine.  The  rich  man  himself  was 
living  here.  He  met  me  full  of  joy,  as  if  he  had  already  seen  me.  He 
prepared  food,  and  gave  me  to  eat. 

In  the  mean  time  it  grew  dark,  and  evening  arrived.  The  rich  man 
said,  "You  would  do  well  if  you  would  spend  this  night  here."  I  went 
to  sleep  angry;  and  when  I  woke  up,  I  saw  the  rich  man  sleeping  with 
me.  I  got  up  weeping,  and  was  just  going  to  depart,  when  the  rich 
man  said,  "What  evil  god  made  me  do  this!  I  had  no  bad  intentions. 
You  have  been  my  younger  brother's  betrothed  wife  since  childhood, 
and,  though  I  did  not  think  any  evil  concerning  you,  I  did  this.  So 
when  you  come  to  your  husband's  house,  and  give  him  to  eat,  put  this 
into  his  dish."  Thus  saying,  he  gave  me  the  basket  hilt  of  a  sword. 
The  hilt  was  inlaid  with  silver  on  one  side,  a  little  silver  net  was  spread 
out,  and  a  little  silver  man  was  pulling  at  it,  and  in  the  net  were  a 
whole  lot  of  little  silver-fishes.  I  was  quite  delighted,  turned  it  over, 
and  saw  on  the  other  side  a  little  gold  net  spread  out,  and  inside  it  a 
whole  lot  of  little  gold-fishes,  and  little  gold  men  pulling  at  it. 

After  I  had  looked  at  it  well,  I  put  it  under  my  shirt  and  went  away. 
I  walked  on  the  path  which  I  saw  in  front  of  me,  and  arrived  at  the 
house  of  the  man  who  had  been  promised  to  me  since  childhood. 
Above  the  house  two  thick  clouds  were  floating,  and  I  entered  the 
house.  "She  is  as  old  as  I  am,"  said  the  rich  man  when  he  saw  me. 
"  The  beautiful  maiden  is  living."  I  was  still  at  the  door  as  he  smiled 
at  me.  As  soon  as  he  saw  me,  I  approached  the  fire  and  remained  near  it. 
When  I  sat  down,  he  wanted  to  say  something.  "My  little  brother," 
he  began,  "has  not  eaten  since  last  month,  and  he  sleeps  all  the  time. 
Therefore  he  has  a  swollen  belly  ^  {tsepuhkaha) .  I  do  not  know  the 
reason  of  this,  and  am  very  much  astonished.  Now  that  you  have 
come,  when  he  hears  you  are  here,  perhaps  he  will  eat."  This  he  said, 
and  at  the  same  time  we  heard  footsteps  near  the  house. 

I  Tsepuhkaha  ("dropsy")  is  an  illness  which  is  often  mentioned  in  ancient  tales,  but 
which  very  seldom  occurs  now. 


Ainu  Folk-Lore  85 

I  looked  up,  and  thought  that  my  betrothed  one  was  coming,  but 
in  reality  it  was  the  swollen  sick  man.  As  soon  as  he  came  in,  he  sat 
down  near  the  fire.  The  girl  of  the  house  prepared  some  food,  put 
it  into  an  iron  dish,  and  gave  me  to  eat;  she  also  fed  the  owner  of  the 
house,  my  husband.  As  soon  as  we  had  finished  eating,  I  gave  back 
the  rest  of  the  food,  and  put  on  the  dish  the  hilt  which  I  had  pu  led 
out  from  the  back  of  my  shirt.  Now  even  I  looked  at  it  with  pleasure 
and  admiration,  and  handed  it  over  to  my  husband.  He  took  it,  and 
said,  "My  elder  brother  did  not  act  according  to  his  will  when  he 
forced  you  to  spend  a  night  with  him.  It  is  well  for  the  gods  to  marry 
one  another,  and  men  and  women  should  also  marry.  I  am  only  a 
man;  but  the  god  of  the  upper  heaven  has  a  younger  sister,  who  wants 
to  marry  me.  She  desires  so  strongly  to  take  me  up  to  heaven  with 
my  body,  that  I  have  not  felt  at  all  like  eating  since  last  month." 

After  having  said  these  words,  he  seized  me,  ran  out  on  the  place 
in  front  of  the  house,  and  carried  me  towards  the  forest.  At  the  back 
of  the  house  there  was  a  little  iron  hut,  built  on  piles,  —  a  house  which 
had  feet.  He  pulled  the  hanging  door^  aside,  carried  me  into  the  hut, 
and  there  we  lay  down  together.  "  Now  we  are  married,  therefore  we 
sleep  together  for  the  first  time.  But  if  you  are  weak,  the  goddess  will 
take  me  up,  body  and  all.  If  you  are  strong,  we  shall  live  together  a 
long  time."     This  he  said,  and  fell  asleep. 

When  I  woke  up  and  looked  around,  I  felt  something  pushing  me. 
I  looked,  and  saw  an  iron  ring  put  around  my  husband's  bod\',  and  an 
iron  chain  attached  to  it  went  up  through  the  opening  in  the  roof,  and 
somebody  was  pulling  at  it  from  above.  I  seized  the  chain,  naked  as  I 
was,  and  began  to  pull  it  down  with  all  my  strength.  But  the  girl  from 
heaven,  being  a  goddess,  was  stronger  than  I.  I  began  to  weep  and 
to  scream.  I  called  the  younger  sister  (of  my  husband).  She  came  in; 
but  as  soon  as  she  saw  me,  she  fled,  shouting,  "Oh,  what  is  this!  a 
naked  woman!"  I  screamed  again,  and  called  the  cider  brother.  He 
opened  the  door,  came  in,  looked  at  me,  and  said,  "A  naked  woman!" 
after  which  he  ran  away.  At  last  my  husband  slipped  out  of  my 
hands,  and  the  goddess  jiulled  the  chain  as  hard  as  she  could.  She 
grasped  it  with  one  hand,  then  again  with  the  other,  and  pulKd  my 
husband  up  fjuite  close.  Smiling,  she  pulled  him  into  Iumm-m  and 
closed  the  door. 

I  could  do  no  more,  and  began  lo  cry.  While  wei-ping,  I  suddenly 
heard  somebody  coming  from  my  natiNC  country,  on  the  Tomisam 
hill.  It  was  my  aunt  who  had  brought  me  up.  She  was  carrying  a 
sword  without  a  scabbard.  She  brandished  it  and  struck.  1  thought 
she  had  killed  ine;  but  suddenly  I  was  changed  into  a  little  bird,  and 
flew  out  through  the  hole  in  the  roof.     As  I  did  not  know  where  to  tly, 

'  The  Ainu  use  tluurs  wliicli  may  be  sliut  or  opened  by  pusliinR  lliein  to  one  side. 


86  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

I  looked  down,  and  saw  the  parts  of  a  naked  woman's  body  lying  near 
the  house;  and  my  aunt  was  sitting  on  them  and  crying,  and  was 
trembling  all  over. 

I  made  a  bridge  out  of  clouds,  and,  walking  on  it,  I  arrived  in 
heaven.  When  I  came  to  the  house  of  the  goddess  in  the  shape  of  a 
little  bird,  I  fluttered  my  wings;  and  the  gods  said,  "A  maiden  is 
walking  around  in  heaven  quite  naked.  We  smell  her  body,  and  it 
makes  us  sick."  This  they  said;  but  I  entered  the  house  through  the 
upper  hole  in  the  roof.  There  was  the  goddess,  holding  the  dying  soul 
of  my  husband  like  a  coral  between  her  hands,  and  she  was  busy  pre- 
paring medicine  for  him.  I  snatched  my  husband's  soul  away  and 
returned  to  earth,  having  put  it  into  my  mouth.  As  we  had  no  place 
to  go  to,  I  crept  into  the  mouth  of  the  cut-up  woman,  and  lost  all 
consciousness.  When  I  recovered,  I  looked  around,  and  saw  my 
husband,  who  at  the  same  time  returned  to  life  again. 

This  is  how  I  resuscitated  one  of  the  three  brothers  of  Otasan. 
My  aunt,  whose  power  had  brought  my  husband  back  from  heaven  to 
earth  again,  was  also  alive.  From  that  time  on,  we  all  lived  happily 
together.  I  related  tales  about  the  gods,  and  lived  with  the  others. 
This  is  the  legend. 

Cracow,  Russia. 


TWENTY-THIRD  ANNUAL  MEETING  OF  THE  AMERICAN 
FOLK-LORE  SOCIETY 

The  twenty-third  annual  meeting  of  the  American  F'olk-Lore  Society 
was  held  in  Washington,  D.  C,  in  affiliation  with  the  American 
Anthropological  Association  and  with  the  American  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science. 

A  meeting  of  the  Council  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society  was 
held  on  Thursday,  December  28,  191 1,  at  9  a.m.,  in  the  new  National 
Museum.  Present:  Roland  B.  Dixon,  Alfred  M.  Tozzer,  Alexander 
F.  Chamberlain,  Pliny  Earle  Goddard,  Charles  Peabody.  Dr.  Dixon 
presided. 

At  this  meeting  the  proposition,  originating  with  the  Anthropological 
Association,  of  the  establishment  of  an  independent  quarterly  of 
bibliography  and  literary  review  along  the  lines  of  the  "Centralblatt 
fiir  Anthropologic,"  was  discussed,  and  the  matter  laid  on  the  table. 

The  Secretary  was  authorized  to  proceed  with  a  re-organization  of 
the  membership  list  of  the  Society,  consisting  in  the  giving  leave  to 
withdraw  to  those  members  who  might  be  very  much  in  arrears  in 
payment  of  dues. 

Nominations  of  officers,  for  presentation  to  the  Society  at  its  annual 
meeting,  were  discussed. 

At  10  A.M.  the  twenty-third  annual  meeting  of  the  American 
Folk-Lore  Society  was  called  to  order.  In  the  absence  of  the  President 
(Professor  Henry  M.  Belden),  the  Second  Vice-President  (Dr.  J. 
Walter  Fewkes)  presided. 

The  presidential  address,  "The  Study  of  Balladry  in  America,"  was 
read  by  the  Secretary.  This  was  followed  by  the  presentation  of 
papers : 

RonKKT  II.  LowiE,  "Principle  of  Convergence  in  ICilmology." 

Alexander  F".  Ch.amherlain,  "A  Note  on  the  Personification  of 
F'atigue  by  the  American  Indians;"  "The  Initial  and  Terminal 
Formula-  of  Kutenai  Tales." 

William  C.  Farabee,  "Quechua  Folk-Music." 

Charles  Pkahodv,  "  Notes  on  the  Words  and  Music  of  the  White 
Captive  Ballad." 

The  following  papers  were  read  by  abstract: 

Ai;ki:li()  M.  Fspinosa,  "Spanish-.American  I'olk-l.ore  in  New 
Mexico.  ' 

HowAKi)  W.  Odim,  "Work-Songs  of  the  Southern  Negroes." 

I'liiLLiPS  Barry,  "William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer." 

"Arapaho  Talcs,"  bv  H.  R.  Voiii,  was  read  bv  title. 

87 


88  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

At  the  business  meeting  a  letter  from  the  President,  Professor 
Henry  M.  Beldcn,  of  the  University  of  Missouri,  was  read;  and  this 
was  followed  by  the  reports  of  the  Secretary,  Treasurer,  and  the 
Editor  of  the  Journal,  as  follows:  — 

secretary's  report 
The  membership  of  the  Society,  and  the  libraries  subscribing  to  the 
Journal,  present  the  following  statistics: 

jqio  iqii 

Honorary  members 14  14 

Life  members 8  9 

Annual  members 344  357 

Subscribing  libraries 135  142 

The  Secretary  regrets  to  report  that  the  Iowa  Branch  has  ceased  to 
exist  as  such.  It  is  hoped  that  the  members  may  continue  in  the 
Society  as  members  at  large. 

Charles  Peabody,  Secretary. 

treasurer's  report  ^ 

RECEIPTS 

Balance  from  last  statement $423.77 

Receipts  from  annual  dues  for  the  year  1912 3.00 

Receipts  from  annual  dues  for  the  year  191 1 801.40 

Receipts  from  annual  dues  for  the  year  1910 30.00 

Receipts  from  annual  dues  for  the  year  1909 12.00 

Receipts  from  life-membership  dues 50.00 

Subscriptions  to  the  Publication  Fund 15700 

Sales  through  the  Houghton  Mififlin  Company  (net  of  mailing  and  other  charges): 

Memoirs 101.25 

Journals  of  American  Folk-Lore,  from  Dec.  i,  1910,  to  July  31,  1911 426.43 

Sales  from  agencies  through  The  New  Era  Printing  Company,  Lancaster,  Pa..  . .  4.80 

Sales  of  reprints  to  authors 14-79 

Sales  of  Memoirs  through  Treasurer 3-oo 

Subscriptions  to  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore  from  agencies,  through  Treasurer  43-34 
Balance  from  Treasury  of  the  Iowa  Branch  of  the  American  F"olk-Lore  Society 

(E.  K.  Putnam,  Treasurer,  Davenport,  lo.) 8.82 

Dr.  Felix  Grendon,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  last  payment  toward  cost  of  printing  his 

article  in  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  No.  84 S5-oo 

Interest,  Old  Colony  Trust  Company,  Boston,  Mass 18.79 

f  2 153-39 

DISBURSEMENTS 

Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  for  manufacturing  Journal  of  American  F"olk-Lore, 

Nos.  89  and  90 ' $608.3 1 

Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  for  printing  reprints  for  authors ISI-17 

Amount  carried  forward $759.48 

'  This  covers  the  period  from  Dec.  26,  1910,  to  Dec.  21,  191 1. 

2  This  is  the  last  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore  manufactured  by  the  Houghton  Mifflin 
Company.  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  Nos.  91  and  92,  have  been  manufactured  by 
The  New  Era  Printing  Company,  Lancaster,  Pa.  The  bills  for  Journals  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  Nos.  92  and  93,  have  not  yet  come  in,  and  should  be  added  to  the  expenses  of  the 
current  year,  and  deducted  from  our  balance. 


Twenty-Third  Meeting  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society    89 

Amount  brought  forward J759.48 

Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  lor  binding  two  copies  of  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  Volume  XXIII,  and  making  five  extra  cloth  covers 1.35 

Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  for  changing  die .64 

Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  charges  for  express,  mailing,  copyright,  etc 5762 

Houghton   Mifflin  Company,  work  on   packing  and   furnishing  four  cases  for 

Journals  sent  to  Columbia  University,  New  York.  N.  Y 10.50 

Dr.  Franz  Boas,  Editor,  for  express  charges  on  Journals  of  American  Folk-Lore 

sent  to  Columbia  L'niversity,  New  York,  N.  Y 12.31 

American  Anthropological  Association,  one-half  cost  of  compiling  and  printing 

"  Periodical  Literature"  for  publication  in  the  Journal 14764 

The  New  Era  Printing  Company,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  for  manufacturing  Journal  of 

American  Folk-Lore,  No.  91 183.80 

Dr.  Franz  Boas,  Editor,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y.  for  expenses  of 

editorial  work  on  Journal  during  the  year  191 1 35-00 

The  Rockwell  and  Churchill  Press,  Boston,  Mass.,  forjprinting  return  envelopes  3.00 

Treasurer's  postage  and  sundry  charges 13-57 

Fitz-Henry  Smith,  Jr.,  Treasurer  of  the  Boston  Branch  of  the  American  Folk- 
Lore  Society,  for  cost  of  sending  out  first  notice  of  the  year  to  local  members  2.70 

Insurance  on  catalogue  for  "Tenth  Memoir" 2.00 

Rebate  to  Cambridge  Branch  (M.  L.  Fernald,  Treasurer,  Cambridge,  Mass.).  . .  .  i9-50 

Rebate  to  Boston  Branch  (Fitz-Henry  Smith,  Jr.,  Treasurer,  Boston,  Mass.).  .  .  .  49.00 

Rebate  to  Missouri  Branch  (Miss  Idress  Head,  Treasurer,  St.  Louis,  Mo.) 5.50 

Rebate  to  Illinois  Branch  (H.  S.  V.  Jones,  Treasurer,  Urbana,  111.) 4.00 

Rebate  to  New  York  Branch  (Stansbury  Hagar,  Treasurer,  New  York.  N.  Y.).  .  2.00 

Rebate  to  Texas  Branch  (Miss  Ethel  Hibbs,  Treasurer,  Galveston,  Texas) 16.00 

Old  Colony  Trust  Company,  Boston,  Mass.,  for  collecting  checks 3.00 

I1328.61 

Balance  to  new  account 824.78 

Eliot  W.  Rkmick,  Treasurer. 


i:i)IT()K  S    REPORT 

Owing  to  the  change  of  puhlishcrs,  which  occurred  at  the  beginning 
r)f  the  year  1911,  the  appearance  of  the  numbers  of  the  Journal  lias 
l)een  very  irreguhir,  but  the  last  nunibt-r  is  well  atlvanced  in  (irejia- 
ration." 

According  to  the  i)rogramme  (levelo[)ed  in  the  last  report,  the 
Kditor  has  endeavored  t(j  obtain  material  on  Spanish-American  and 
Negro  ff)lk-lore.  It  is  gratifying  thai  the  appeals  of  the  I-lditor  have 
met  with  unexpected  success,  and  we  may  hope  that  furtlu-r  contri- 
butions may  be  made  to  this  interesting  and  littk:  culti\'.Ui'd  bramh 
of  research.  Extended  collection  of  Negro  folk-lore  is  very  important 
and  urgent,  and  should  receive  dose  attention. 

'  Since  the  alx)vc  report  wan  written,  the  last  number  of  the  Journal  for  191 1  lias  Uvt-n 
is.suc<l. 


90  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

With  the  extension  of  interests  over  the  fields  of  English,  American, 
Romanic-American,  Negro,  and  Indian  folk-lore,  the  size  of  the 
Journal  threatens  to  become  almost  too  small;  and  if  the  financial 
conditions  of  the  Society  permitted,  it  should  be  extended  considerably. 
A  strong  effort  to  increase  membership,  and  if  possible  to  establish 
a  publication  fund,  should  therefore  be  made. 

In  accordance  with  the  vote  of  the  Society  not  to  proceed  with  the 
printing  of  the  General  Index  until  sufficient  funds  can  be  secured, 
the  completed  manuscript  has  been  kept  in  the  safe  deposit  vaults  of 
the  Hudson  River  Branch  of  the  Corn  Exchange  Bank  in  New  York 
until  sufficient  funds  can  be  secured  for  its  publication.  An  appeal  to 
the  Carnegie  Institution  and  to  the  Smithsonian  Institution  to  assist 
in  the  publication  or  to  take  over  the  publication  has  remained 
without  success,  so  that  we  are  compelled  to  rely  on  the  resources  of 
the  Society  or  on  private  contributions.  The  Permanent  Secretary' 
of  the  Society  has  generously  promised  a  contribution  of  $ioo.  Nine 
additional  contributions  of  the  same  amount  would  enable  us  to  com- 
plete this  important  work,  that  is  to  be  dedicated  to  the  memory  of 
the  unforgotten  founder  of  our  Society,  Mr.  W.  W.  Newell. 

The  Editor  begs  to  revert  to  the  recommendation  made  a  year  ago; 
namely,  to  enter  into  a  contract  with  the  American  Anthropological 
Association  for  the  purpose  of  publishing  jointly  with  that  Association 
a  bibliographical  journal,  to  be  furnished  free  of  charge  to  all  members 
of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society  and  of  the  American  Anthropologi- 
cal Association;  this  publication  to  contain  the  bibliographical  record 
by  Professor  Chamberlain,  and  reviews.  If  the  Editor  may  be  allowed 
to  make  the  suggestion,  it  would  be  to  place  this  publication,  if  decided 
upon,  in  charge  of  Professor  Chamberlain,  to  be  assisted  by  a  number 
of  gentlemen  who  have  in  recent  years  taken  particular  interest  in 
the  development  of  the  review  department  of  the  Journal,  —  Dr.  A.  A. 
Goldenweiser,  Dr.  Robert  Lowie,  and  others.  Financially  the  estab- 
lishment of  this  independent  journal  would  be  a  saving  for  both  societies, 
since  the  bibliography  is  now  printed  twice,  and  is  twice  in  the  hands 
of  the  many  individuals  who  are  members  of  both  Societies.  The 
Editor  would  further  suggest  that  this  journal  be  issued  as  a  quarterly; 
that  the  bibliography  be  divided  geographically,  as  it  is  now;  and  that 
the  report  on  each  division  be  made  to  cover  the  period  of  one  year; 
so  that,  for  instance,  "America"  might  appear  in  April,  and  should 
cover  the  period  from  April  to  April;  "Africa,"  in  July,  and  should 
cover  the  period  from  July  to  July,  or  whatever  convenient  month 
may  be  decided  upon  by  the  P^ditor. 

The  Society  must  decide  what  to  do  with  the  plates  of  the  old 
numbers  of  the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  which  are  still  with 
the  Houghton  Mifflin  Company.     I  think  it  would  be  well  to  dispose 


Twenty -Third  Meeting  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society    91 

of  the  metal,  except  in  cases  of  numbers  of  which  there  are  less  than 

five  copies  in  stock.     These  might  be  held.     I  should  advise  referring 

this  matter  to  a  committee. 

Franz  Boas,  Editor. 

The  nominations  of  the  Council  for  the  officers  for  the  year  1912 
were  accepted,  and  the  Secretary  was  instructed  to  cast  a  ballot  for 
their  election.     The  officers  are  as  follows: 

President,  John  A.  Lomax,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Tex. 

First  Vice-President,  Professor  G.  L.  Kittredge,  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, Cambridge,  Mass. 

Second  Vice-President,  Dr.  J.  Walter  Fewkes,  Bureau  of  American 
Ethnology,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Editor  of  Journal,  Professor  Franz  Boas,  Columbia  University, 
New  York,  N.  Y. 

Permanent  Secretary,  Dr.  Charles  Peabody,  Harvard  University, 
Cambridge  Mass. 

Treasurer,  Mr.  Eliot  W.  Remick,  300  Marlborough  Street, 
Boston,  Mass. 

Councillors.  For  three  years:  R.  H.  Lowie,  E.  K.  Putnam,  A.  M. 
Tozzer.  For  two  years:  P.  E.  Goddard,  Mrs.  Zelia  Nuttall,  S.  A. 
Barrett.  For  one  year:  Phillips  Barry,  J.  B.  Fletcher,  A.  F.  Chamber- 
lain. Past  Presidents:  Roland  B.  Dixon,  John  R.  Swanton,  Henry 
M.  Bclden.  Presidents  of  local  branches:  F.  W.  Putnam,  W.  F. 
Harris,  A.  C.  L.  Brown,  Miss  Mary  A.  Owen,  Joseph  Jacobs,  Robert 
A.  Law. 

The  following  committees  were  appointed:  — 

On  Storage  atid  Disposal  of  Plates  and  Memoirs,  etc.:  Franz  Boas, 
Chairman;  C.  Peabody;  A.  M.  Tozzer. 

On  Plans  of  Work  in  Common  with  the  American  Antliropoloiiical 
Association:  C.  Peabody,  Chairman;  Stansbury  Hagar;  CMark  Wissler. 

Auditing  Committee:  The  Secretary  and  R.  B.  Dixon. 

The  Secretary  was  authorized  to  send  votes  of  thanks  to  the  trustees 
of  the  Corcoran  Gallery  of  Art  for  their  kind  invitation  to  a  reception 
on  the  evening  of  December  28;  and  to  the  secretary  of  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution  for  the  imitation  to  a  rece|)tion  on  the  evening  of 
December  27,  1911,  and  for  their  hospitality  in  extending  the  privileges 
of  the  auditorium  as  a  place  of  meeting,  both  meetings  and  reception 
having  been  held  in  the  National  Museum. 

The  Secretary  was  empowered  to  act  as  to  the  time  and  place  of 
the  next  annual  meeting. 

A  special  meeting  of  the  Council  of  ilu>  .American  I-"olk- Lore  Society 
was    held    on    I'ridav,    Deceiuber    2<).      PriM-nt :    Robirl    II.    Lowii-, 


92  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Roland  B.  Dixon,  Pliny  Earle  Goddard,  and  Charles  Peabody.  A 
vote  was  taken,  on  the  invitation  of  the  American  Anthropological 
Association,  to  co-operate  in  the  publication  of  a  separate  quarterly 
of  bibliography  and  literary  criticism.  The  vote  was  favorable,  and 
was  followed  by  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Robert  H.  Lowie  as  Editor 
for  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society. 

Charles  Peabody,  Secretary. 


NOTES   AND   QUERIES 

Some  Hidatsa  and  Mandan  Tales.  —  I  give  in  the  following  a  few  tales 
told  among  the  Hidatsa  and  Mandans  of  the  Fort  Berthold  Reservation  in 
North  Dakota,  together  with  the  story  of  how  an  Hidatsa  name  was  acquired. 
The  stories  are  not  long  and  important  myths,  merely  simple  every-day  tales, 
such  as  are  told  to  the  children  by  the  old  grandfather  or  grandmother. 

The  first  three  of  the  stories  were  related  by  John  Hunts  Along,  a  young 
Hidatsa  Indian.  The  first  story  is  a  bit  of  more  or  less  modern  superstition. 
The  last  two  stories  were  told  by  James  Holding  Eagle,  a  young  Mandan. 

1.  There  is  a  lake  on  the  bottom-lands  of  the  Missouri  River  between 
Shell  Creek  and  Elbowoods  on  the  reservation.  The  old  people  say  that 
in  the  old  days  this  lake  was  very  deep.  In  those  times  there  were  people 
living  in  the  lake,  under  the  water.  Many  who  passed  there  would  hear  the 
sound  of  voices,  as  the  dwellers  in  the  lake  were  talking  or  singing.  Often 
also  dogs  were  heard  barking,  and  sometimes  the  sound  of  the  war-drum 
came  from  under  the  water  when  the  lake  people  were  having  their  dances. 

Now,  this  lake  is  only  a  few  feet  deep  in  the  deepest  places.  The  old 
peo[)le  say  that  one  of  the  missionaries  put  poison  into  the  lake,  and  either 
killed  the  people  there  or  made  them  go  away.  The  poison  also  made  the 
lake  dry  up  and  become  shallow. 

2.  A  long  time  ago  there  was  a  man  who  went  out  to  the  Bad  Lands  to 
catch  eagles.  He  went  up  on  the  top  of  a  high  hill  and  dug  his  pit  there. 
Then  he  got  in  and  arranged  the  covering  o\'er  the  opening. 

F"or  a  long  time  the  people  waited  for  him,  and  he  did  not  come  back,  and 
finally  his  friends  went  out  to  look  for  him.  When  they  came  back,  they 
said  that  some  monster  had  come  up  through  the  earth  to  the  bottom  of  the 
pit,  had  seized  the  man,  and  had  pulled  him  down  under  ground.  He  was 
never  seen  again. 

3.  The  third  story  related  how  the  Indian  name  of  the  narrator,  The- 
Man-who-stands-up-in-the-Air,  was  accjuired.  The  name  was  purchased 
from  the  man's  grandfather,  together  with  a  shield  painted  with  a  picture  of 
the  sun.     The  grandfather  obtained  the  name  in  the  following  manner:  — 

One  night  while  sleeping,  he  dreamed  that  he  saw  the  sun  standing  a  little 
way  above  the  western  hcjrizon.  As  he  looked,  the  sun  became  a  num  stand- 
ing up  in  the  air,  and  talked  to  him.  The  Sun-Man  told  him  that  he  would 
hrip  him  in  all  that  he  undertook;  he  also  told  him  many  si-rri'ts,  and  told 
him  how  to  make  a  big  shield  with  the  sun  painted  on  it  for  his  medicine. 
When  the  grandfather  awoke,  he  took  his  name  from  this  Sun-Man,  and  he 
made  a  shield  as  the  man  had  directed. 

After  this  the  grandfather  became  a  great  medicint'-man:  he  could  make  it 
rain  or  hail  whenever  he  wished,  and  lu-  could  go  into  a  fight  and  never  be 
injured  hy  the  weapons  of  thi*  enemy.  Once  wlu-n  tin*  Sioux  werr  di-ft-ating 
the-  Hidatsa,  he  made  a  big  hail-storm  come  uj),  which  so  frightriicil  .md 
confused  the  Sioux  that  they  ran  away. 

4.  A  Skunk  was  travelling  along  his  trail.  ,'\t  the  other  end  a  Hi-.ii  w.l^. 
travelling,  going  toward  the  Skunk.      Ncithrr  one  knew  that  the  other  was 

93 


94  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

on  the  trail.  They  met;  and  the  Skunk  said,  "You  are  on  my  trail.  Step 
to  one  side!"  The  Bear  said,  "It  is  you  that  are  on  my  trail.  You  Inust 
step  aside."  The  Skunk  answered,  "No.  You  must  get  off."  Then  the 
Bear  said,  "  I  say,  you  must  leave  the  trail.  If  you  don't,  I  shall  eat  you  up." 
Then  the  Bear  began  singing,  "You  are  the  one  who  is  in  my  road.  I  wonder 
if  skunk's  flesh  will  taste  bitter  or  sweet  if  I  eat  it!"  Then  the  Skunk  began 
to  sing,  "I  wonder,  if  I  should  eat  bear-meat,  would  it  taste  bitter  or  sweet!" 
Then  the  Skunk  cast  his  scent  in  the  Bear's  eyes.  The  Bear  began  to  cry 
out,  and  pluck  at  his  eyes,  and  he  got  off  the  trail.  Then  the  Skunk  went  on. 
5.  Some  men  went  out  one  time  to  get  into  pits  to  catch  war-eagles.  As 
they  were  returning  toward  evening,  one  man  stopped  on  the  way  and  sat 
down.  As  he  was  looking  around,  he  saw  an  eagle  chasing  a  rabbit.  The 
rabbit  was  running  round  and  round  in  a  circle,  and  every  little  while  the 
eagle  would  make  a  swoop  for  him.  At  each  swoop  the  eagle  would  come 
nearer  to  catching  the  rabbit.  The  rabbit  kept  drawing  closer  and  closer 
to  the  man;  and  as  the  eagle  made  a  last  great  swoop,  the  rabbit  jumped  into 
the  man's  lap,  and  the  eagle  failed  to  get  him.  Then  the  Eagle  said  to  the 
man,  "Put  him  down!  I  am  hungry  and  want  to  eat  him."  The  Rabbit 
said  to  the  man,  "Save  me!  If  you  do,  I  will  make  you  very  renowned." 
Then  the  Eagle  said,  "Put  him  down!  I  will  help  you.  Whatever  I  say 
is  true.  My  feet  never  touch  the  ground;  and  whatever  I  undertake,  I 
never  fail  in  it."  The  Rabbit  answereed,  "It  is  true  that  my  feet  are  on  the 
ground;  but  whatever  I  attempt,  I  too  succeed  in."  And  the  man  saved 
the  Rabbit,  and  the  Rabbit  made  him  powerful,  and  always  helped  him  in 
times  of  trouble. 

George  F.  Will. 
Bismarck,  N.  D. 


THE  JOURNAL  OF 

AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE 

Vol.  XXV.  — APRIL-JUNE,  1912  —  No.  XCVI 


TRADITIONS   OF   THE   PAPAGO   INDIANS 

BV  HENRIETTE  ROTHSCHILD  KROEBER 

The  Pima  Indians  of  Arizona,  and  the  adjacent  Papago  of  the  same 
State  and  of  Sonora,  are  regarded  as  distinct  tribes,  but  are  said  by 
themselves  to  be  so  nearly  identical  in  language  and  customs,  that 
they  seem  to  go  back  to  a  common  origin  of  no  great  antiquity.  All 
that  is  known  of  their  mythology  points  to  similar  close  affiliations. 
The  largest  collection  of  traditions  assembled,  though  it  is  clearly 
only  an  outline,  is  by  Frank  Russell,  from  the  Pima.'  An  older  sketch 
is  by  Grossman.^  Further  information  as  to  the  beliefs  of  the  same 
tribe  is  given  by  Bancroft'  and  the  writer. "^  The  Papago  live  in  more 
forbidding  and  less  accessible  localities,  and  less  is  known  of  them. 
Davidson''  provides  a  distorted  account  of  their  creation  story,  which 
Bancroft®  repeats,  and  the  author  has  contributed  "Coyote  Tales" 
to  the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore.'  The  traditions  now  presented 
were  obtained  from  Juan  Dolores,  an  educated  full-blood  member  of 
the  tribe.  It  appears,  from  the  manner  in  which  his  first  story  tallies 
with  the  others  mentioned,  that  both  Pimas  and  Papagos  possess  an 
imi^ortant  and  interesting  myth  of  the  origin  of  the  world  and  of  them- 
selves, in  which  many  incidents  are  told  in  the  same  form,  and  in  which 
Earth-Maker  or  Earth-Doctor  and  Older-Brother  arc  the  leading 
personages  or  gods,  with  Coyote  filling  a  dilTerent  and  sul)sidiar>-  place. 

OUTLINES    OF    THE    CREATION    .MYTH 

In  the  beginning  there  was  nothing  but  darkness  and  watir.  The 
darkness,  the  water,  and  the  air  composed  the  whole  UMi\erse.     As 

'  Twenty- sixth  Annuiil  Rffxirt,  liureau  of  American  Ethmtlof^y,  pp.  3 -J90  (1908).  Sec 
pp.  20A-250. 

•  K.  E.  (iros-sman,  "Tho  I'iriia  Indians  of  Arizona,"  in  the  Smithsonian  Report  for  1871 
(187.1).  pp.  407-4>';- 

•  H.  H.  Bancroft.  The  Xative  Races  of  the  Pacific  Coast,  vol.  iii  (i88j).  pp.  78-80. 

•  "  F'ima  Tales,"  in  American  Anlhropohg^ist,  new  scries,  vol.  x  (190S),  pp.  Jjt-ajs. 

•  Report  of  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs,  1865,  pp.  iji-ijj. 

•  Work  cited,  pp.  75   77. 
'  Vol.  xxii  <I909). 

VOL,  XXV. — NO.  96. — 7  95 


96  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

they  came  together,  wherever  they  met,  the  friction  of  these  bodies, 
the  darkness  and  the  water,  finally  produced  a  living  being,  which  lay 
upon  the  water  and  was  carried  from  place  to  place.  Whatever 
formed  this  being  also  fed  it,  and  it  grew  until  it  became  a  great  man. 
He  became  our  "Older-Brother,"  the  first-born. 

After  he  became  a  man,  he  saw  that  there  was  a  substance  gathering 
around  him,  the  bubbles  or  scum  which  always  gather  around  an 
object  in  the  water.  He  took  some  of  that  and  made  it  into  earth- 
worms. He  sent  them  around  to  gather  up  the  stuff  he  had  seen  and 
had  already  gathered  around  himself.  They  went  about  and  gathered 
and  gathered,  and  left  it  all  around  him.  They  kept  on  piling  up  and 
piling  up.  Finally  he  found  himself  on  a  little  piece  of  dry  land.  So 
he  kept  on  sending  them  out,  and  they  kept  on  piling  this  and  piling  it. 
That  was  the  way  he  made  the  earth.  First  he  made  the  earthworms, 
and  they  made  the  earth. 

After  the  earth  was  made,  it  kept  on  floating.  It  had  no  steady 
place.  So  Older-Brother  made  spiders,  and  sent  them  all  around  to 
tie  the  earth  down.  So  they  went  around  and  made  their  web,  and 
tied  the  earth  and  left  it  on  the  water.  Then  the  earth  had  a  steady 
place. 

He  made  the  people  and  all  kinds  of  things  to  grow.  At  that  time  all 
animals  and  birds  were  people.  It  is  told  that  many  things,  when 
first  made,  did  not  work  right,  and  had  to  be  changed  or  made  over. 

The  people  called  for  light.  They  gathered  around.  He  had  told 
them  the  names  of  other  things;  and  when  they  called  for  light,  they 
asked  what  name  they  should  give  it  when  it  came.  They  tried 
different  names.  One  said  to  call  it  "a  long  time."  After  they  had 
already  decided  to  call  it  this.  Coyote  said  he  had  a  better  name.  He 
wanted  them  to  call  it  by  a  name  meaning  "to  go  over,  to  climb  up." 
But  they  would  not  accept  that  word,  and  they  took  the  first  name, 
which  means  "day"  now,  and  also  means  "a  long  time."  So  the  sun 
came  up.  The  first  time  it  came  up,  it  was  very  hot,  for  it  was  too 
close  to  the  earth.  Then  the  next  time  they  put  it  farther  away,  and 
it  was  too  far.  Then  they  brought  it  down.  They  said  to  put  it  away 
over  on  one  side,  and  that  did  not  work.  It  only  gave  them  light 
in  a  certain  place  and  in  no  other  place.  Finally,  after  moving  it 
around  to  various  positions,  they  got  it  in  the  place  it  is  now.  Then 
Older-Brother  made  the  moon  and  the  stars  come  up  to  give  light 
after  the  sun  goes  down. 

After  a  while  the  people  became  dissatisfied  with  some  things  that 
had  been  made,  and  thought  they  should  be  different,  so  that  they 
might  get  along  better.  For  instance,  the  rattlesnake  had  teeth;  but 
they  were  like  a  little  plant  now  called  rattlesnake-weed,  which  is 
sharp  on  top,  but  bends  easily  when  touched.     In  the  evenings  the 


Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians  97 

children  would  go  out  and  get  a  snake  and  throw  it  around,  chasing 
one  another.  Of  course  it  would  bite,  but  did  not  hurt.  The  poor 
snake  never  slept  because  the  children  always  threw  it  around.  It 
used  to  cry  all  night.  So  it  called  upon  Older-Brother  to  give  it  some 
way  to  protect  itself.  Older-Brother  came  down.  The  people  gathered 
together;  and  after  they  had  been  singing  four  nights,  they  were  to 
wait  on  the  fourth  morning  when  the  sun  came  up.  Sun-rays  look  like 
sharp  points.  It  is  said  that  Older-Brother  took  the  ends  of  the  sun- 
beams and  mixed  them  with  something  in  the  water,  and  put  it  on  the 
rattlesnake's  teeth.  So  it  is  a  part  of  the  strength  of  the  sun  which 
kills  a  person  when  the  rattlesnake  bites.  After  he  put  the  water  on 
the  snake's  teeth,  they  became  poisoned;  and  he  announced  this  to 
the  people,  and  said  that  the  snake  was  from  that  time  more  dangerous, 
and  nobody  was  to  pick  it  up.  So  from  that  time  on  the  snake  has 
been  poisonous. 

After  he  had  made  the  people,  all  animals,  birds,  and  so  on,  they 
began  to  multiply,  and  the  big  things  walked  over  the  little  things. 
They  gathered  together  and  called  Older-Brother  to  come  down  and 
help  them  out.  So  he  came  down.  He  gathered  them  together.  He 
left  it  to  the  people  to  decide  what  they  were  going  to  do,  how  the 
smaller  people  were  to  live.  Then  he  divided  them  off,  and  told  how 
certain  people  were  to  live  in  certain  houses.  He  put  them  off  in 
different  places,  —  some  in  the  mountains,  some  in  trees,  and  so  on. 
They  were  all  told  where  they  were  to  be  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the 
others.  Finally  a  little  Worm  said  that  he  was  so  small,  that  big 
things  stepped  on  him,  and  he  could  not  run  fast  enough  to  keep  out 
of  the  way.  He  thought  it  would  be  better  that,  after  a  thing  had 
lived  long  enough,  it  died  or  went  to  some  other  place.  They  did  not 
know  what  "to  die"  was;  but  he  said  it  was  "never  to  be  on  this 
earth  again."  But  the  people  said  that  those  who  had  li\od  long 
enough  here  were  to  be  put  into  some  other  place.  Then  the  (jucstion 
was  if  this  other  place  would  not  be  filled  up  also.  In  speaking  of 
where  this  place  is,  the  Indians  generally  say  that  it  is  in  the  east,  under 
the  rising  sun.  After  they  leave  the  place  where  they  have  lived, 
they  are  forever  singing  and  dancing  in  the  east.  They  join  hands, 
and  the  circle  gets  larger  and  larger  as  the  new  people  come;  and  they 
keep  on  going  around  and  around,  singing  and  (lancing.  The  sur- 
rounding country  contains  all  things  they  like  to  cat,  such  as  cactus- 
fruit  and  all  kinds  of  game.  When  the>'  speak  of  a  fx'rson  about  to  die 
they  s.-iy,  "  He  is  going  after  the  cactus-fruit  in  ihr  cist ."  Sometimes 
they  s<-iy,  "He  is  going  to  join  in  the  singing." 

.After  tiny  had  decided  that  people  should  die  and  leave  this  place 
when  they  had  lived  here  a  long  time,  there  grew  up  a  great  many  who 
did  wonderful  things,  such  as  Rain,  Wind,  and  C\>yote.     There  was  a 


98  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

wise  man  in  the  cast  who  had  a  fine  daughter.  Young  men  from  all 
over  the  country  came  to  see  this  girl,  but  she  would  not  marry  any 
of  them.  One  of  these  wise  men  had  a  son,  and  he  gave  his  boy  a  talk 
before  he  started  out  to  see  the  girl.  The  son  staid  there  with  the  girl, 
but  could  not  bring  her  home.  But  she  had  a  baby,  and  he  took  the 
child  with  him.  When  he  came  to  his  village,  he  left  the  baby  over 
the  hill  and  went  home.  He  told  his  father  how  he  had  lived  with 
the  woman,  but  she  would  not  come  home  with  him;  and  that  she  had 
had  a  little  baby,  and  he  had  brought  it,  but  left  it  over  the  hill.  His 
father  already  knew  all  this.  He  told  his  son  to  go  back  and  bring  the 
baby.  The  young  man  went  back,  and  found  the  baby  crying.  He 
staid  a  long  time,  but  would  not  pick  up  the  baby,  and  at  last  went  back 
and  left  it.  He  thought  that  if  his  wife  did  not  like  him  enough  to 
come  with  him,  he  would  not  bring  the  baby  home.  He  would  leave 
it  there.  So  he  went  home  alone.  And  his  father  sent  him  back 
again.  When  he  got  there  a  second  time,  he  saw  that  the  earth  all 
around  the  baby  was  moist.  It  was  the  baby's  tears  running  down 
and  making  the  earth  moist.  He  looked  at  that,  and  thought  that  it 
was  wonderful.  He  staid  there  a  long  time,  but  could  not  pick  up 
the  baby,  and  went  back  once  more.  His  father  sent  him  a  third 
time;  and  the  third  time  he  arrived,  he  saw  a  little  stream  of  water 
running  down  from  where  the  baby  was.  And  the  fourth  time  he 
went,  he  saw  that  the  water  was  coming  all  around  where  the  baby  was. 
It  was  coming  up.  And  he  went  back  and  told  his  father  what  he  had 
seen.  So  they  went  to  prepare.  The  father  said  that  there  would  be 
a  fiood  that  would  cover  the  whole  earth.  And  he  told  the  people 
that  the  water  was  going  to  cover  the  earth;  so  the  different  things 
began  to  call  upon  their  Older-Brother  to  save  them. 

Older-Brother  came  down  and  made  a  pot  out  of  grease-wood  for 
himself.  Coyote  came  and  asked  him  what  he  was  going  to  do  to 
save  himself.  He  told  him,  if  he  could  make  one  like  that  to  get 
inside  of,  it  would  be  all  right.  So  Coyote  went  to  work  and  made 
one  like  it.  The  Humming-Bird  asked  what  he  should  do  to  save 
himself.  Older-Brother  told  him  to  fly  up  and  hang  on  the  heavens. 
So  he  flew  up  there.  The  Woodpecker  was  told  to  hang  up  there  also. 
When  the  water  reached  the  tail  of  the  Woodpecker,  he  began  to  cry; 
but  the  Humming-Bird  told  him  that  he  need  not  cry,  because  he  was 
the  smaller  of  the  two  and  he  was  not  crying,  and,  as  Older-Brother 
had  said  they  would  be  all  right,  they  would  be. 

Before  Coyote  and  Older-Brother  went  into  their  "houses,"  they 
said,  that,  according  as  they  came  out  first,  they  were  to  be  related 
to  each  other.  After  the  water  went  down,  Older-Brother  came  out 
first.  Coyote  came  out  later,  and  went  around  and  looked  all  over, 
and  saw  the  tracks  of  little  birds.     He  followed  them  around  to  say 


Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians  99 

that  he  had  come  out  first,  so  that  they  might  be  some  relation  to  him. 
He  did  not  find  them,  but  finally  met  Older-Brother,  and  tried  to  tell 
him  that  he  was  to  be  Older-Brother  because  he  had  come  out  first. 
He  told  him  how  many  things  he  had  seen  already.  Of  course,  Older- 
Brother  would  not  believe  him. 

Older-Brother  and  Coyote  walked  around,  and  finally  decided  to 
make  some  more  people.  Coyote  was  to  help.  They  made  them  out 
of  mud,  and  put  them  aside  to  dry.  After  a  certain  day,  they  were  to 
come  to  life.  On  this  day  Coyote  and  Older-Brother  went  to  see  them ; 
and  they  had  already  come  to  life,  and  were  speaking  to  one  another. 
They  were  people  as  we  see  them  now.  Then  they  decided  to  make 
others.  Coyote  sat  over  to  one  side  and  made  some.  He  did  not 
make  them  right.  He  would  have  one  leg  or  one  arm  missing.  He 
put  them  away  to  dry;  and  after  a  certain  day,  they  were  to  speak. 
When  the  day  came  that  they  were  to  speak,  they  both  went  over  to 
see  them.  When  Older-Brother  saw  how  they  were  made,  he  did  not 
wish  them  to  be  mixed  with  his  people.  He  gathered  them  up  and 
threw  them  over  to  the  other  side  (in  another  world)  to  live  by  them- 
selves. 

THE    UNDECIDED    RACE 

There  once  lived  an  old  woman  who  had  to  care  for  two  little  boys 
whose  father  and  mother  had  died  and  left  them  to  her.  In  some 
mysterious  way  the  boys  grew  up,  true  and  obedient  to  the  old  woman. 
They  followed  all  the  teachings  of  the  old  woman.  And  they  were 
well  liked  by  all  the  people,  because  they  were  brave,  good  hunters, 
and  good  runners,  —  things  which  were  required,  at  that  time,  of  all 
good  men.  Many  girls  of  marriageable  age  spoke  well  of  the  boys 
in  the  hearing  of  the  old  woman;  but  the  old  woman  said  nothing. 
She  thought  the  boys  were  too  young  yet  to  be  married,  until  one 
day  she  went  for  water  to  the  pond.  At  the  pond  she  found  a  very 
good-looking  girl.  The  girl  took  the  earthenware  jar  or  olla  down 
from  the  old  woman's  head.  She  filled  it  with  water  and  set  it  to  one 
side,  and  said,  "Remember  me,  grandmother,  when  you  are  to  choose 
a  wife  for  one  of  your  boys.  And  I  should  be  glad  if  some  day  1  might 
have  a  chance  to  come  and  stay  with  you  to  do  the  work  which  you 
arc  now  doing."  The  old  woman  was  much  pleased  with  the  appear- 
ance of  the  girl  and  with  what  .she  said,  and  she  told  the  girl  to  ch{X)sc 
one  of  the  boys.  But  the  girl  said  she  could  not  choose,  for  she  cared 
for  one  as  much  as  the  other;  the  boys  both  being  good-looking  and 
young,  and  both  good  hunters  and  brave.  The  old  wortian  said  she 
could  not  decide  to  which  one  to  give  the  girl,  lK(au*ie  she  loved  one 
as  much  as  the  other,  and  to  give  the  girl  to  one  would  offend  the  other. 
But  she  said,  "You  remain  here,  and  wail  for  the  boys.  I  will  go 
home  and  tell  them  to  run  a  race  from  there  to  this  pond,  and  whoever 


loo  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

wins  the  race  will  be  the  one  to  marry  you."  The  girl  staid,  and  the 
old  woman  went  home.  She  gave  her  boys  a  long  talk,  telling  them 
that  she  was  now  old,  could  not  do  the  work,  and  that  she  had  found  a 
fine-looking  girl,  who  spoke  well,  and  whom  she  liked,  and  she  could 
not  decide  which  one  to  give  her  to.  This  was  the  only  way  to  decide 
which  one  was  to  marry  her,  as  she  loved  the  boys  and  did  not  want  to 
offend  either.  The  race  was  already  won;  for  the  boy  who  had  fol- 
lowed her  teachings  best,  and  had  got  up  each  morning  and  run  a 
training-race,  would  surely  be  the  best  runner,  and  so  win. 

So  after  she  said  this,  she  sent  them  out  to  run  the  race.  As  they 
were  both  good  runners,  they  staid  together  until  they  came  within 
sight  of  the  girl.  In  this  race  (at  the  present  time)  they  run,  and 
throw  a  wooden  ball  with  the  foot;  and  the  one  who  places  the  ball 
across  the  line  (in  this  case,  to  where  the  girl  stood)  wins,  even  though 
he  may  be  behind  in  the  race.  When  they  came  within  sight  of  the 
girl,  the  oldest  one  got  ahead  a  little;  but  the  boy  behind,  not  having 
thrown  his  ball  as  far  as  the  other,  reached  it  first,  and  threw  it  across 
the  line.  When  the  older  had  got  ahead,  he  had  thrown  his  ball,  but 
did  not  succeed  in  reaching  the  girl.  Then  the  younger  one  threw 
the  ball  where  the  girl  stood,  and  she  picked  it  up  and  hid  it  in  her 
dress.  Now,  when  the  boys  came  up,  they  quarrelled  about  who 
had  won  the  race.  The  older  was  ahead,  but  the  younger  from  behind 
had  thrown  the  ball  to  where  the  girl  was.  So  they  quarrelled.  The 
girl  was  as  much  puzzled  as  ever  over  which  one  to  choose.  She  said, 
"I  will  keep  this  ball  until  you  find  out  from  your  grandmother  to 
which  one  I  belong,  and  then  I  will  return  the  ball."  So  the  boys 
went  home,  and  told  their  grandmother  how  they  came  out  in  the  race. 
The  grandmother  could  not  decide,  either.  It  was  a  puzzle.  Both 
seemed  to  have  won.  The  grandmother  said,  "Perhaps  it  is  not  time 
for  either  one  of  you  to  be  married.  There  are  yet  many  girls  as 
good-looking  as  she  is,  and  perhaps  some  day  we  shall  find  one."  So 
neither  married. 

In  those  days,  when  a  boy  and  girl  were  to  be  married,  a  place  in 
the  house  was  fixed  for  them  to  sleep.  The  boy  must  stay  there  four 
nights  before  he  could  take  the  girl  home,  or  before  he  could  be  received 
into  the  family.  If  he  was  to  live  with  the  girl's  parents,  he  would  stay 
four  nights;  and  then  early  in  the  morning  he  would  go  back  home,  or 
go  hunting.  But  after  four  nights,  he  was  received  into  the  family, 
or  could  take  the  girl  home. 

When  the  girl  told  her  parents  what  had  happened,  they  made  the 
place  ready  for  her.  There  she  slept  for  four  nights,  but  nobody  came. 
The  girl  still  had  the  ball,  as  she  had  said  she  would  keep  it  until  one 
of  the  boys  came,  after  the  grandmother  had  decided  which  had  won 
the  race;  but  as  the  old  woman  could  not  decide,  no  one  came.     And 


Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians  loi 

then  it  happened  that  in  time  she  found  she  was  going  to  have  a 
child. 

When  the  old  woman  heard  about  this,  she  went  to  the  place  to  see 
if  the  child  would  in  any  way  resemble  one  of  her  boys,  so  that  she 
could  give  the  girl  to  one.  But  when  the  child  was  born,  she  saw, 
that,  while  in  all  other  respects  it  looked  like  a  man,  its  fingers  and 
toes  were  long  claws,  more  like  those  of  a  wildcat  or  some  other  animal. 

The  girl  and  her  parents  raised  the  child.  When  it  got  so  that  it 
could  pla\'  with  other  children,  it  used  to  make  them  cry  by  scratching 
them,  and  there  were  many  quarrels  between  the  mother  of  the  strange 
child  and  other  women.  The  child  grew  worse  and  worse  as  it  grew 
older,  until  one  night,  at  one  of  the  gatherings  which  the  people  had 
in  those  times,  under  the  direction  of  an  old  man  called  the  "smoke- 
keeper,"  to  decide  questions  of  importance,  the  men  said  that  this 
thing  of  scratching  the  children  was  getting  so  bad  that  it  seemed  that 
in  a  very  short  time  there  would  be  trouble,  because  the  child  had 
grown  now.  In  some  way  they  must  rid  themselves  of  it.  Then 
the  old  man,  the  father  of  the  girl,  told  his  daughter  to  take  the  child 
away.  If  it  were  left  there,  in  a  very  short  time  it  would  be  killed, 
anyhow. 

So  one  night  the  young  woman  led  the  boy  straight  south.  In  the 
morning  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  open  desert.  But  she  kept  on 
going  and  going,  until  by  noon  they  were  in  the  middle  of  the  desert. 
There  she  saw  the  heat-waves  rising  from  the  ground ;  and  she  stopped, 
and  said,  "My  boy,  you  see  the  heat-waves.  Beyond  that  is  where 
your  father  lives."  She  told  him  that  this  waving  was  the  strength  of 
his  father.  His  father  lay  and  breathed.  This  was  his  breath.  "  Be- 
yond that  you  will  find  him,"  she  said.  "Go  and  see  him.  .And  if 
any  time  you  wish  to  see  me,  you  know  where  I  am.  But  it  is  danger- 
ous for  you  to  live  with  me  any  longer."  And  there  she  left  the  boy, 
telling  him  to  go  beyond  the  wave  of  heat  antl  (\nd  his  father. 

The  boy  went,  and  the  waving  of  heat  kept  on  ahead  of  him  the  same 
distance.  Late  in  the  day  he  came  to  the  south  end  of  the  desert. 
There  he  could  not  see  the  waves  any  more,  so  he  looked  back  and  saw 
them  behind  him.  Then  he  turned  around  and  went  back,  thinking  he 
had  passed  the  place;  but  he  could  not  find  his  father. 

As  he  had  come  one  way  and  did  not  find  his  father,  he  thought  he 
would  go  another  way.  To  one  side  of  this  plain  there  is  a  little 
mountain  rising  directly  from  the  level  country.  He  came  to  this 
mountain  after  sundown,  and  went  up.  He  found  a  great  cave.' 
After  four  turns  he  came  to  a  little  round  place,  something  like  a  house. 
At  the  back  of  this  cave  he  found  a  little  fireplace;  and  to  one  side,  a 
little  hole  used  for  pounding  mes(|uite-beans.  As  he  saw  these  things, 
•  This  cave  is  still  to  be  found  as  dcjKrilK'd. 


I02  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

he  thought  this  must  be  the  place  where  his  father  lived,  though  his 
father  was  not  there.  Every  morning  after  that,  he  used  to  go  out; 
and  he  would  see  the  waving  of  heat  over  at  one  side.  Because  his 
mother  had  told  him  that  that  was  the  strength  of  his  father,  and 
beyond  that  he  could  find  his  father,  he  used  to  follow  the  thing  around, 
but  never  found  his  father.  But  because  he  always  saw  this  thing 
about  the  place,  he  thought  his  father  must  be  there,  and  staid  there 
every  night. 

Where  this  mountain  is,  there  is  a  village,  —  about  five  miles  away 
from  where  the  boy  lived.  The  story  was  told  in  this  village  that 
something  had  been  taking  away  the  children.  In  time  it  was  found 
out  that  something  that  lived  up  in  the  mountain  came  down  at  night 
and  took  the  children  away.  That  was  the  way  the  boy  was  living. 
He  was  a  cannibal.  He  lived  on  human  flesh.  Exaggerated  stories 
were  told,  to  the  eflfect  that  in  the  cave  was  a  big  hole  in  which  the 
children  were  placed  by  this  thing,  and  mashed.  The  people  finally 
decided  to  find  out  what  this  was  that  was  carrying  away  the  children. 
So  they  called  up  the  medicine-men.  They  sang  four  nights.  On  the 
fourth  night,  in  the  evening,  they  said  that  this  thing,  whatever  it  was, 
that  was  taking  away  their  children,  was  nothing  like  an  animal  that 
did  not  understand,  but  it  was  one  of  their  own  people,  and  could  be, 
if  they  wished,  brought  down  to  the  village.  So  they  sent  somebody 
there  to  bring  him  down.  A  young  man  was  sent,  with  instructions  to 
tell  this  person  that  they  were  having  a  good  time,  and  he,  being  im- 
portant, was  asked  to  come  and  take  part  and  give  them  some  of  his 
songs,  this  being  the  custom  when  visitors  came  from  other  villages. 

So,  when  they  brought  him  down  that  night,  they  gave  him  some- 
thing to  smoke  to  make  him  sleep.  As  the  pipe  was  passed  from  one  to 
another  of  the  old  people,  they  only  pretended  to  smoke  it;  but  when 
it  came  to  him,  he  really  smoked,  not  knowing  what  it  was.  So  he 
fell  asleep  in  this  gathering,  and  they  picked  him  up  and  carried  him 
back  to  the  cave.  They  piled  up  wood  in  the  four  turns,  and  set  it  on 
fire.  When  this  began  to  burn,  he  woke  up.  He  ran  from  one  side 
of  the  cave  to  the  other,  and  jumped  up  and  bumped  his  head  against 
the  top.  He  shook  the  cave  so  hard,  that  ihcy  were  afraid  he  would 
come  out;  and  they  called  on  the  "Older-Brother"  (Great  Spirit)  to 
help  them.  So  Older-Brother  came  and  put  his  foot  on  top  of  the 
cave,  and  held  it  down  until  the  monster  died.  The  footprint  of 
Older-Brother  is  still  said  to  be  seen  on  the  top  of  the  cave,  and  there  is 
a  crack  in  the  cave  supposed  to  have  been  made  at  that  time. 

STORY  OF  THE  WIND  AND  RAIN 

In  a  village  where  there  were  a  great  many  people  who  had  power  to 
do  wonderful  things,  there  lived  a  certain  wise  man.     This  man  was 


Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians  103 

different  from  the  people  who  had  the  great  powers.  He  was  only 
wise  in  understanding  things.  He  had  a  very  beautiful  daughter.  He 
brought  up  this  girl  to  what  he  thought  was  a  perfect  woman.  She 
would  never  laugh  at  foolish  things;  but  she  had  great  power  to  make 
other  people  laugh.  She  would  make  other  people  laugh  at  foolish 
things  she  would  say,  to  see  how  small  their  minds  were. 

So  this  man  said  that  the  girl  could  marry  if  she  found  anybody  that 
would  please  her.  Formerly  girls  married  to  please  their  parents,  but 
this  girl  could  marry  the  one  that  pleased  her  the  most.  In  order  that 
she  might  decide  whom  to  marr>',  difTerent  ones  would  come  to  her. 
She  would  talk  to  them  and  tell  them  little  foolish  things,  and  they 
would  laugh,  and  so  they  lost  their  chance.  She  did  not  want  them. 
She  wanted  to  find  somebody  that  would  please  her  so  much  that  she 
could  laugh. 

A  Whip-poor-will  came  to  see  her.  He  was  very  good-looking.  He 
came  on  the  strength  of  his  good  looks,  thinking  they  would  please  her. 
But  that  was  not  what  she  was  looking  for.  She  started  to  tell  him 
something,  and  he  began  to  laugh.  When  he  laughed,  his  mouth  went 
far  back,  as  it  is  now,  and  never  got  any  smaller;  and  he  became 
ashamed  of  himself  and  went  away. 

Coyote  came  to  see  the  girl,  and  tried  to  make  her  laugh  at  a  few 
silly  things  he  had  to  say,  but  was  unsuccessful.  And  so  many  others 
failed  in  the  same  way. 

A  group  of  young  men  in  the  village  were  talking  of  these  things 
one  day  when  the  girl  came  by.  Whirlwind  was  one  of  the  great  men 
of  the  village.  These  young  men  called  uj^on  him  to  do  somelhing 
as  the  girl  came  by.  She  came  out  of  the  house.  The  wind  began 
to  blow;  and  before  realizing  it,  she  knew  it  was  the  Whirlwind  coming 
towards  her;  and  he  came  right  where  she  was,  and  twisted  her  clothes, 
and  she  was  exposed  to  the  young  men.  That  was  what  they  wanted 
when  they  had  called  on  Whirlwind.  The  girl  cried,  and  went  back 
to  the  house.  Her  father  got  angry  at  this.  He  knew  that  it  was 
done  by  the  Whirlwind.     Whirlwind  was  told  to  leave  the  village. 

Rain  wasagof)d  frirnd  t(»  Whirlwind.  Rain  was  blind;  and  wherever 
Whirlwind  went,  he  had  to  lead  his  friend.  So  when  the  old  man 
became  angry,  and  said  that  Whirlwind  had  to  \v.\\v  the  \  illage, 
Whirlwinfl  left  the  village  and  took  his  friend  with  him.  Where  he 
went,  nobody  knew.  He  was  gone  four  years.  During  that  time 
there  was  no  rain,  and  there  was  no  wind.  And  they  gathered  to- 
gether, and  railed  upon  difTerent  animals  to  lu-lp  them  find  the  rain 
and  the  wind.  They  called  upon  Coyote;  and  he  went  around  the 
villages,  nosing  along,  smelling  the  dilTerent  roads  and  paths  and  trails 
all  about  the  villages  and  mountains.  In  four  days  he  returned  home, 
and  said  he  could  not  find  the  rain  and  the  wind.     They  calletl  upon 


I04  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

the  Buzzard;  and  he  Hew  around  over  the  mountains,  looking  all 
over,  and  in  four  days  he  returned  home,  but  he  could  not  find  the 
rain  and  the  wind.  They  called  upon  the  Bear.  He  went  over  the 
mountains,  turning  over  great  heavy  things,  such  as  logs  and  rocks, 
and  went  into  ca\'es  and  different  places.  In  four  days  he  returned 
home  without  finding  the  rain  and  the  wind. 

They  called  upon  a  certain  little  Bird,  a  little  larger  than  the  hum- 
ming-bird, but  without  its  long  tail  and  bill.  As  this  little  Bird  started 
out  of  the  village,  he  took  a  stick  and  tied  one  of  his  down-feathers  to  it. 
As  he  flew  into  the  first  of  the  bushes,  he  held  out  this  little  stick 
everywhere  he  w^ent.  He  would  look  at  the  down  as  it  hung  on  the 
stick,  and  it  did  not  move.  And  everywhere  he  flew,  he  carried  this 
little  stick;  and  the  down  hung  there  and  wouldn't  move.  One  day, 
somewhere  in  the  east,  he  put  out  this  little  stick,  and  he  saw  the 
down  begin  to  move  a  little.  He  flew  around  here  and  there,  and 
finally  he  saw  which  way  this  down  began  to  move,  and  he  knew  from 
where  the  wind  was  coming.  He  alighted  at  a  place  where  there  were 
green  grass  and  flowers  and  trees,  and  a  little  stream  of  running  water. 
He  followed  this  little  stream  of  water,  and  came  to  a  big  cave.  There 
was  a  little  bit  of  a  fire;  and  on  one  side  was  the  Rain,  and  on  the 
other  side  was  the  Whirlwind.  They  were  both  asleep.  He  took  one 
of  the  coals  and  put  it  on  Rain's  back.  The  coal  sizzled  and  went 
out.  He  took  another  one  and  put  it  on  his  back,  and  again  it 
sizzled  and  went  out.  He  did  this  four  times.  The  fourth  time  Rain 
woke  up. 

The  little  Bird  told  him  that  for  these  four  years  the  people  had  had 
no  rain  and  no  wind.  There  was  no  food  and  no  water,  and  they 
wanted  him  to  return.  Rain  told  him  that  he  could  not  return  unless 
his  friend  went  along  with  him.  So  he  had  to  wake  up  Whirlwind. 
Whirlwind  said  that  although  they  sent  him  away,  if  they  now  wished 
to  have  him  back  as  one  of  his  people,  he  would  return.  The  little 
Bird  went  back. 

It  was  after  four  years  he  returned.  He  told  them  that  in  the  east 
there  was  a  most  beautiful  spot,  where  they  had  green  grass  and  flowers, 
and  all  kinds  of  little  springs,  and  that  there  he  had  found  Rain  and 
Whirlwind.  But  they  both  thought  themselves  so  important  that 
they  would  not  return.  The  people  had  to  send  again.  They  had 
to  call  for  them  four  times;  and  the  fourth  time  Rain  and  Whirlwind 
said,  "All  right,  we  will  come  along."  Then  they  started  out.  On 
the  fourth  day  the  wind  began  to  blow  and  blow.  Thus  it  was  on 
the  first  day  after  they  started  out.  It  came  closer  and  closer;  and 
on  the  fourth  day  the  wind  was  there,  and  there  was  a  great, wind- 
storm with  dust.  After  this  wind  had  passed,  there  came  the  rain; 
and  it  rained  and  rained  and  rained.     They  went  all  over  the  country, 


Traditions  of  the  Papago  Indians  105 

and  then  they  returned  home.  After  this,  whenever  the  people  wished 
rain,  they  had  to  call  on  these  two,  and  they  would  come  at  certain 
times.  Whenever  Whirlwind  came,  he  had  to  lead  his  friend  along, 
because  Rain  was  blind  and  he  had  to  follow. 

They  say  there  used  to  be  more  rain  in  Arizona,  because  they  do  not 
call  on  the  rain  any  more. 
San  Francisco,  Cal. 


io6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


BULU  TALES  FROM  KAMERUN,  WEST  AFRICA 

BY   ADOLPH    N.    KRUG 

I.  "as  you  contest  in  wrestling,  remember  the  river  yom" 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  youth  who  surpassed  everybody  in 
wrestling;  so  that,  as  often  as  he  wrestled,  he  threw  people  down. 
They  usually  went  to  wrestling-matches  across  the  river  Yom.  As 
thus  they  went  to  a  wrestling-match  again  on  a  certain  day,  the  youth 
repeatedly  threw  many  people  in  wrestling.  It  was  their  custom, 
when  they  went  to  wrestling-matches,  not  to  tarry  very  long,  because 
the  river  Yom  very  often  rose  in  flood. 

As  thus  they  went  again,  they  and  other  people  with  them,  the 
youth  wrestled,  and  kept  on  wrestling  and  throwing  people  down  in 
the  contest,  but  never  once  did  he  remember  that  the  river  Yom  might 
rise  in  flood.  Therefore  his  brother  kept  calling  to  him  repeatedly 
through  a  trumpet,  "As  you  contest  in  wrestling,  remember  the  river 
Yom." 

At  that  time  he  again  threw  a  man  so  that  the  man  broke  his  leg. 
Immediately  the  wrestling-match  broke  up,  and  they  fled  with  all 
possible  speed,  but  they  found  that  the  river  Yom  was  in  flood.  The 
people  pursued  them,  and  came  upon  them  and  slew  them. 

This  story  is  true  to  real  life,  therefore  the  people  have  narrated  it. 

2.  THE  tortoise  AND  THE  ELEPHANT 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Tortoise  and  the  Elephant  went  on  a  journey, 
and  they  said  one  to  the  other,  "Let  us  go  and  visit  Zambe,  the  son 
ofMebe'e!" 

Thereupon  they  started  on  their  journey;  and  when  they  came  to 
a  river,  they  stopped  and  took  a  bath.  When  they  had  finished 
taking  a  bath,  the  Tortoise  began,  and  said  to  the  Elephant,  "Come, 
my  friend,  we  will  take  new  names  for  ourselves ! "  When  the  Elephant 
therefore  asked  him,  "What  names  shall  we  take?"  the  Tortoise  began, 
and  said,  "My  name  is  'Guests,  go  to  the  house;"  but  the  Elephant 
was  named  "Guests,  remain  seated."  After  this  the  Tortoise  said, 
"Now  we  have  finished  taking  new  names  for  ourselves,  therefore  we 
will  do  after  this  manner:  when  we  have  arrived  in  town,  and  you 
hear  the  people  call,  'Guests,  go  to  the  house,'  then  they  are  calling 
me,  the  Tortoise;  but  if  you  hear  them  call,  'Guests,  remain  seated,' 
then  they  are -calling  the  Elephant." 

When  they  had  thus  finished  taking  new  names,  they  left  the  river- 
crossing,  and  came  to  the  village.     Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'c,  was 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  107 

greatly  surprised,  and  said,  "Great  guests  have  come  to  my  village." 
So  he  killed  a  fowl  and  gave  it  to  a  woman  to  cook,  and  the  woman 
prepared  and  cooked  it.  After  this  Zambe  called  a  boy,  and  said  to 
him,  "Go  and  call  my  guests  from  the  pala\er-house."  The  boy 
accordingly  went  to  the  palaver-house,  and  called  out,  "Guests,  go  to 
the  house!"  The  Tortoise  thereupon  quickly  arose,  saying,  "They 
have  called  me  by  my  name;"  and  he  said  to  his  children,  "  Let  us  go  to 
the  house!"  So  the  Tortoise  and  his  children  went  to  the  house;  and 
they  ate  the  fowl,  and  saved  for  the  Elephant  and  his  children  only  a 
piece  of  the  breast. 

Thereupon  said  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  "Perhaps  the  Elephant 
despised  the  fowl;"  so  he  killed  a  dog  and  had  it  cooked,  and  said  to 
the  boy,  "Go  and  call  my  guests  from  the  palaver-house."  The  boy 
therefore  went  to  the  palaver-house  and  called  out,  "Guests,  go  to 
the  house!"  So  the  Tortoise  again  said,  "It  is  I  they  are  calling;" 
and  he  and  his  children  went  in  and  ate  the  dog,  but  they  kept  for  the 
Elephant  and  his  children  only  a  small  piece  of  the  dog. 

After  this  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  killed  a  sheep  and  had  it 
prepared  also.  Then  he  said  again  to  the  boy,  "Go  and  call  my 
guests  from  the  pala\er-house."  The  boy  therefore  went  to  the  palaver- 
house  and  called  out,  "Guests,  go  to  the  house!"  The  Tortoise 
therefore  said  again,  "It  is  my  name  they  have  called;"  so  the 
Tortoise  and  his  children  went  to  the  house,  and  they  ate  all  of  the 
sheep,  keeping  for  the  Elephant  and  his  children  only  a  piece  of  a  leg. 

When  the  next  morning  had  dawned,  the  Elephant  and  the  Tor- 
toise said  one  to  the  other,  "Now  we  will  go  home."  Thereupon 
Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  took  a  staff  in  his  hand,  and  said  to  the 
Elephant,  "On  the  day  you  arrived  here  I  killed  a  fowl,  but  you  did 
not  eat  of  it;  after  that  1  killed  a  dog,  but  you  did  not  eat  of  it,  either; 
so  at  last  I  killed  a  sheep,  but  never  a  bite  did  you  eat  of  it,  either; 
theref(jre  I  want  to  ask  \()U,  what  is  it  nou  desire  that  1  shoulii  now 
kill  for  you?" 

To  this  the  Elejjhant  replied,  and  said.  "I  did  imt  cat,  not  because 
there  was  too  little  food,  but  because  we  took  new  names  when  we 
came  to  this  town.  Therefore  1  did  in  this  manner:  the  name  of  the 
Tortoise  is  'Guests,  ^o  to  the  house;'  and  the  Tortoise  always  went, 
because  you  alwa>s  called  his  name,  'Guests,  ^o  to  the  house.'  I  did 
not  go  because  I  did  not  luar  you  call  'Guests,  remain  seated.'  If, 
however,  you  had  called  uw  in  that  manner,  1  niiaiiiK  should  have 
gone." 

Therefore  the  people  said  to  the  Elephant,  "  \'ou  are  cerlainl>'  a 
great  big  blockhead.  Will  any  one  with  any  sense  ever  take  such  a 
name  for  himself.''" 

Thus  did  the  Tortoise  deciisc  the  Elephant. 


io8  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

3.   A    YOUTH    AND    HIS    FATHER-IN-LAW 

Once  upon  a  time  a  youth  and  his  father-in-law  went  out  to  cut 
gardens,  and  a  porcupine  got  under  the  blanket  of  the  youth;  so  he 
caught  it,  and  called  to  his  father-in-law,  "I  am  holding  on  to  two 
things!"  and  his  father-in-law  said,  "Let  one  of  the  two  go!"  So 
the  youth  foolishly  let  the  porcupine  go,  but  he  held  on  to  the  cloth. 
Again,  as  they  went  and  cleared  a  garden-patch,  a  rat  jumped  up,  and 
the  youth  caught  it;  and  again  he  said  to  his  father-in-law,  "I  am 
holding  on  to  two  things!"  and  the  father-in-law  replied,  as  before, 
"Let  one  of  the  two  go!"  Then  the  youth  again  released  the  rat,  but 
held  on  to  the  cloth. 

Therefore  the  people  said  to  him,  "Young  man,  you  excel  in  being 
a  fool,  because  you  have  let  go  two  animals  which  you  had  caught. 
You  and  your  father-in-law  were  in  the  woods  alone,  —  he  a  man  and 
you  a  man,  —  because  men  among  themselves  do  not  feel  much  shame 
when  they  are  in  the  woods  alone.  Therefore  the  people  said,  "This 
person  is  certainly  a  fool,  for  he  released  two  animals  at  the  same  time." 
Thus  they  said  of  him,  "This  boy  is  surely  a  blockhead." 

Thereupon  the  boy  said,  "If  I  have  done  very  foolishly,  I  will  not 
be  able  to  do  such  a  thing  again."  He  said  this,  for  he  felt  ashamed 
when  his  father-in-law  asked  him,  "O  my  son-in-law!  will  a  man 
indeed  do  such  a  thing  as  you  have  done?  " 

4.    THE  SON  OF  A  MAN  AND  THE  SON  OF  A  GHOST 

Once  upon  a  time  the  son  of  a  man  and  the  son  of  a  ghost  dug 
pitfalls  in  the  forest.  So  the  son  of  the  ghost  said  to  the  son  of  the  man, 
"You  select  now  the  share  of  the  animals  which  you  will  always  take." 
Therefore  the  man  said,  "I  will  always  take  the  male  animals."  The 
ghost  said  to  him,  "Choose  now  a  good  thing,  so  that  you  will  have 
it  always."  Thereupon  said  the  man  to  the  ghost,  "Choose  now  the 
portion  which  you  will  have  to  eat  all  the  time."  So  the  ghost  said, 
"I  will  eat  the  females  of  all  the  animals,  all  that  we  shall  catch;  but 
you,  the  son  of  a  man,  you  will  eat  all  of  the  male  animals."  Then 
said  the  man  to  the  ghost,  "You  can  also  eat  of  the  males;"  but  the 
ghost  said,  "  No,  I  will  not  eat  them,  because  it  is  forbidden  to  us 
ghosts  to  eat  of  male  animals. " 

When  two  nights  had  passed,  they  went  out  to  visit  the  traps,  and 
they  found  that  ten  animals  had  been  killed  in  the  pitfalls.  So  the 
ghost  said  to  the  man,  "You  take  all  of  them!"  So  he  took  them  all. 
Then  they  went  home.  On  another  day  they  went  to  visit  the  traps, 
and  they  found  a  buffalo  and  an  elephant  standing  in  the  pits;  and 
these  also  were  males,  both  of  them.  And  again  the  man  took  them 
all.  The  man  said,  however,  to  the  ghost,  "Come,  you  may  take 
one  of  the  tusks;"  but  the  ghost  said,  "No,  for  it  is  forbidden  to  us 


Biilii  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  109 

ghosts  to  take  ivory  of  a  male  animal,  lest  we  die. "  So  the  man  took 
the  whole  elephant,  and  carried  the  meat  to  his  town. 

But  the  wife  of  the  man  had  forgotten  the  broken  cutlass  at  the 
place  where  they  had  cut  up  the  elephant.  When  the  ghost  saw  the 
woman  coming,  he  threw  the  broken  cutlass  into  the  pit  for  her.  So 
he  said  to  the  wife  of  the  man,  "Go  down  into  the  pit  and  get  your 
cutlass."  So  the  woman  descended  into  the  pit;  and  she  said  to  the 
ghost,  "Help  me  up  out  of  the  pit!" 

When  the  man  saw  that  his  wife  did  not  speedily  return,  he  followed 
after  her,  and  found  the  ghost  standing  beside  the  pit.  Then  he 
asked  him,  "Where  is  my  wife?"  and  the  ghost  replied,  "She  is  down 
there  in  the  pit."  The  man,  in  turn,  said,  "Help  her  up  out  of  the 
pit!"  but  the  ghost  replied,  "No,  I  will  not  help  her  up,  because  I 
said  I  would  not  eat  any  male  animals  killed  in  these  pits,  but  the 
females.  At  the  present  time  there  is  a  female  down  in  the  pit;  there 
is  nothing  else  for  me  to  do  but  to  take  her."  To  this  the  man  replied, 
"But  she  is  my  wife!"  but  the  ghost  said,  "It  is  forbidden  that  a 
female  animal,  once  it  is  caught  in  a  pit  the  ghosts  have  dug,  be  released 
again,  but  the  ghosts  themselves  must  take  it." 

Upon  this  the  man  became  angry,  and  broke  off  a  club  with  which  to 
strike  the  ghost;  but  the  ghost  suddenly  went  down  into  the  pit,  and 
took  the  woman,  and  they  disappeared  down  there  in  the  pit;  and 
he  was  never  seen  anywhere  again,  but  in  the  streets  of  his  father's 
village. 

Thus  the  man  lost  his  wife. 

5.   THE  TWO  HUNCHBACKS 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man  who  was  a  hunchback;  and  when 
he  went  a-courting,  he  saw  a  woman  who  was  also  a  hunchback,  even 
as  he  himself.  So  he  said  to  the  woman,  "  I  wish  to  marry  you,  because 
you  are  a  hunchback,  even  as  I  myself:  therefore  I  wish  to  marry  nou." 
The  woman  assented,  and  they  were  married. 

But  the  man  happened  to  hear  of  a  person  who  had  ilu-  power  to 
heal  hunchbacks,  so  he  arose  to  go  to  this  man.  As  he  was  journe>ing 
(jn  the  rcjad,  he  came  upon  a  very  old  man,  and  he  gave  him  some  food ; 
although  he  was  offensive  and  ugly  and  dirty,  nevertheless  he  gave 
him  of  his  food.  Thereupon  the  very  old  man  said  to  him,  "My 
young  man,  when  you  have  reached  the  town,  and  they  cook  food  for 
you,  and  take  it  to  a  house  that  is  old  and  tuml)le-df)wn,  do  not  object, 
but  ^f)  aiul  cat  there."     And  the  man  did  after  this  fashion. 

W  hen  he  had  reached  the  town,  they  cooked  food  for  him,  and  took 
it  to  a  bad-looking  house;  but  he  also  went,  and  entered  the  house  and 
began  to  eat  the  food.  Suddrnly  he  noticed  a  ver\'old  man  lying  there, 
and  he  took  part  of  his  food  and  j^ave  it  to  the  old  man.     The  old  man 


I  lo  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

asked  him,  "Who  instructed  you  in  this  matter?"  and  he  answered, 
"I  myself."  Thereupon  said  the  old  man  to  him,  "This  very  night, 
if  they  come  and  ask  you,  'Which  do  you  prefer,  —  a  fetish  covered 
with  the  skin  of  the  genet,  or  a  fetish  covered  with  the  skin  of  the 
civet-cat?'  you  reply,  'I  prefer  a  fetish  covered  with  the  skin  of  the 
genet;'  and  if  they  ask  you  again,  'Which  do  you  prefer  to  be, — 
straight  as  an  arrow  or  bent  over? '  you  answer, '  Straight  as  an  arrow.' " 
When  night  had  come,  they  showed  him  a  house  in  which  he  was  to 
sleep.  During  the  night,  when  they  came  to  ask  him  all  these  ques- 
tions, just  as  the  old  man  had  instructed  him,  he  answered  rightly; 
and  thus  he  was  healed,  because  he  did  not  disdain  the  evil  things 
he  met  at  the  beginning.  Thus  did  he  return  to  his  own  town,  a  man 
healed  completely. 

When  his  wife  saw  this,  she  was  very  much  grieved,  because  she 
and  her  husband  had  both  been  hunchbacks,  but  now  her  husband 
was  a  well  man.  So  the  woman  jumped  up  quickly  and  started  to  go; 
but  her  husband  called  out  to  her,  and  said,  "Wait  a  moment!  I  will 
instruct  you  as  to  what  you  should  do."  But  she  replied,  "No, 
indeed!  Did  you  tell  me  at  all,  or  say  good-by,  when  you  went 
away?"  Thus  did  she  go  in  great  haste;  and  when  she  came  upon 
the  old  man  lying  by  the  roadside,  she  spit  on  the  ground,  and  said, 
"What  a  horrid  old  thing  this  is!"  And  the  old  man,  in  turn,  said, 
"My  youthful  maiden,  go  on  to  where  you  wish  to  go."  The  woman 
also  said  to  him,  "I  see  that  you  wish  to  offer  me  insult  with  your 
talk."     Thus  did  she  leave  him  lying  there,  and  went  on  her  journey. 

When  she  had  come  to  the  town,  they  cooked  food  for  her,  and 
they  took  the  food  to  the  house  where  the  old  man  was  staying.  So 
she  said,  in  her  pride,  "Am  I,  indeed,  of  no  account,  that  they  take 
food  for  me  to  such  a  horrible  place?"  The  people  said  to  her,  "We 
knew  of  no  better  place  where  you  could  have  gone  to  eat  food." 
And  the  woman  ate  all  the  food  herself;  never  a  bite  did  she  give  to 
the  very  old  man.  When  night  came,  they  showed  her  a  house  to 
sleep  in.  When  they  came  during  the  night,  and  asked  her,  "Which 
do  you  prefer  to  be,  —  straight  as  an  arrow  or  bent  over?"  she  replied, 
"  Bent  over."  And  when  they  asked  her  again,  "Which  do  you  prefer, 
—  a  fetish  covered  with  the  skin  of  the  genet,  or  one  covered  with  the 
skin  of  the  civet-cat?"  she  replied,  "A  fetish  covered  with  the  skin  of 
the  civet-cat."  Thereupon  the  hunch  on  her  back  became  even  worse 
than  the  one  she  had  previously  borne. 

When  she  returned  home  to  her  husband,  he  said  to  her,  "I  will 
never  live  in  marriage  with  you  again."  Thus  did  the  woman  go 
from  bad  to  worse,  because  she  had  no  pity  on  people  in  distress, 
but  lifted  herself  up  in  pride;  and  thus  it  was  that  she  saw  all  this 
trouble. 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kamerun,West  Africa  in 

Upon  whom  rests  the  blame  of  this  affair?  Is  it  upon  the  woman 
herself,  or  her  husband?     Thus  did  this  woman  go  from  bad  to  worse. 

6.     HOW   ZAMBE^    CREATED   MAN,   THE   CHIMPANZEE,  AND   THE    GORILLA 

Some  people  have  bclic\cd  that  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  created 
the  man  Zambe,  the  chimpanzee  Zambe,  the  gorilla  Zambe,  and  the 
elephant  Zambe.  One  man  was  black,  the  other  one  white.  He  gave 
unto  them,  moreover,  fire  and  cutlasses  and  hoes  and  axes  and  water. 
After  this  they  stirred  up  the  fire;  and  when  the  white  man  came  and 
sat  by  the  fire,  when  he  looked  into  the  fire,  the  smoke  came  into  his 
eyes,  so  that  the  tears  came.  Therefore  he  arose  and  went  away  from 
the  fire.  The  only  thing  which  the  white  man  treasured  was  the 
book  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

The  chimpanzee  saw  a  cluster  of  mvut-fruit  ripening  on  a  tree 
standing  in  the  unplanted  border  of  a  clearing;  so  he  threw  away  all 
he  had,  and  went  and  ate  the  fruit  of  the  mvut-tree.  He  and  the 
gorilla  Zaml)e  did  in  this  manner. 

The  black  man  stirred  up  the  fire  around  the  standing  stump  of  an 
adum-tree,  but  he  neglected  the  book. 

The  elephant  also  had  enough  things,  but  he  did  not  remember  one 
of  them. 

When  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  came,  he  called  them  together  and 
asked  them,  "All  the  things  which  I  left  in  your  possession,  where  are 
they?"  The  Chinipanzce  made  answer,  and  said,  "My  things  I  left 
where  I  ate  the  fruit  of  the  mvut-tree."  So  he  said  to  him,  "Go  and 
fetch  them!"  When,  however,  the  chimpanzee  came  to  the  place 
where  he  had  left  them,  he  found  not  a  single  one  of  them  there. 
Therefore  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  became  angry  with  him,  and 
said  to  him,  "You  arc  a  fool."  And  he  dipped  his  hands  into  a  pool 
of  water,  and  sprinkled  hair  all  oxer  the  body  of  the  chimpanzee;  he 
ga\e  him  also  large  teeth  in  his  mouth,  and  said  to  him,  moreover, 
"You  will  always  live  in  the  forests."  The  same  he  said  to  the  gorilla: 
"  \'ou  and  the  chimpanzee  will  be  alike." 

After  this  he  also  asked  (lu-  black  man,  "W'Iutc  is  Nour  book?" 
and  he  replied,  "I  threw  it  awa\'."  Zambe  therefore  said  to  him, 
"You  will  be  left  without  knowledge,  because  >-ou  threw  away  the 
book."  Moreo\cr,  Zambe,  the  son  of  Mebe'e,  said  to  him,  "  N'ou  will 
go  to  a  man  and  ask  of  him  a  wife  in  return  for  goods,  you  will  also 
work  for  him."  He  also  said  again  to  the  black  man,  "\'ou  will  be 
always  tenfling  the  fire,  for  it  is  the  one  thing  you  especially  looked 
after."  Thereupon  said  Zambe  to  tin-  white  man,  "In  all  the  da\s  to 
come  you  will  ne\er  put  away  the  book,  because  you  did  look  after 
the  book  which   I  gave  you;  therefore  nou  will  be  a  man  of  under- 

'  Tlic  Kod  of  Bulu  niyllioioKy. 
VOL.   .\.\V. NO.  96. — 8 


112  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

standing,  because  you  cared  for  a  real  thing."  He  said  to  him  also, 
"You  will  always  live  without  fire,  for  you  cared  but  little  for  the  fire." 

Thus  it  is  that  the  chimpanzees  and  gorillas  and  elephants  went 
to  the  forest  to  live;  and  they  always  cry  and  howl,  because  Zambe, 
the  son  of  Mebe'e,  gave  them  a  curse  because  they  did  not  keep  the 
things  he  had  given  them  to  keep. 

Therefore  we  now  perceive  that  the  white  men  are  men  of  under- 
standing, but  the  black  people  are  ignorant;  moreover,  also  the  black 
men  go  and  serve  them ;  the  black  people  also  warm  themselves  at  the 
fire. 

7.     THE    LITTLE    SQUIRREL   AND   THE    VIPER 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Squirrel  and  the  Viper  lived  in  friendship. 
The  Viper  said  to  the  Squirrel,  "Come  and  let  us  live  together  in  one 
nest!"  But  the  Squirrel  said,  "I  am  afraid  of  you,  lest  you  do  me 
harm."     But  the  Viper  replied,  "No,  I  will  do  you  no  harm." 

So  they  lived  together  in  the  same  nest. 

When  two  days  had  passed,  the  Squirrel  gave  birth  to  children, 
and  she  went  out  to  hunt  food  for  them;  but  the  Viper  staid  in  the 
nest,  and  she  ate  all  the  children  of  the  Squirrel,  never  leaving  even 
one  of  them. 

When  we  hear  the  call  of  the  Squirrel,  it  always  says,  "  Is  the  Viper 
really  a  friend  of  mine?"  It  is  always  saying,  "Is  this  really  a  friend 
of  mine,  is  this  really  a  friend  of  mine?" 

Therefore  one  man  should  not  deceive  another. 

8.     THE    DOG   AND    THE    CHIMPANZEE 

Once  upon  a  time  a  Dog  and  a  Chimpanzee  went  on  a  journey 
together,  going  from  town  to  town.  They  said  one  to  the  other,  "We 
ought  to  make  an  agreement  with  each  other  as  we  go  on  this  journey." 
So  the  Dog  said  to  the  Chimpanzee,  "As  we  go  on  this  journey,  if  the 
people  give  us  food  in  which  there  is  any  meat,  do  not  throw  any  bones 
on  the  ground,  but  eat  them  all  up."  The  Chimpanzee  said  also  to 
the  Dog,  "You  also,  as  we  go  on  this  journey,  when  the  day  dawns, 
you  quickly  give  me  my  loin-cloth." 

Soon  after  this  they  came  to  a  town,  and  they  slept  there  one  night. 
The  second  evening  the  people  killed  a  fowl  for  them;  and  when  they 
were  eating,  the  Chimpanzee  threw  a  bone  to  the  ground,  so  the  Dog 
arose  and  ate  it.  Therefore  all  the  people  laughed  at  the  Dog.  On 
the  third  night,  as  the  day  was  dawning,  the  Chimpanzee  said  to  the 
Dog,  "Give  me  the  loin-cloth  which  I  always  wear;"  but  the  Dog 
refused  to  do  so,  and  took  the  cloth  and  threw  it  away  to  the  dung-heap. 
When  the  Chimpanzee  appeared  outside,  all  the  people  saw  him  naked, 
and  they  all  laughed  at  him. 

The  lesson  to  be  drawn  from  this  story  is  this:  a  friend  should  not 
deceive  his  friend,  for  he  will  also  do  likewise. 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kameriin,  West  Africa  113 

9.    THE   TWO    BROTHERS 

There  were  two  men  born  of  the  same  mother.  One  was  the 
older,  the  other  the  younger  son.  The  older  one  was  a  foolish  fellow, 
but  the  younger  one  was  a  real  man.  The  father  loved  the  younger 
son  very  much.  So  the  father  said  unto  them,  "I  have  begotten  you, 
my  sons,  but  I  have  no  riches  for  you.  If  you  seek  riches,  go  to  the 
crest  of  yonder  hill:  you  will  see  something  there." 

So  the  younger  son  started  to  go;  and  he  saw  an  old  man  on  the 
path,  with  many  scales  of  the  itch  on  his  skin,  who  also  had  but  little 
fire-wood.  So  the  boy  went  out  and  cut  fire-wood  for  him;  and  the 
old  man  gave  him  thanks,  and  asked  him,  "Where  are  you  going?" 
and  he  replied,  "I  am  going  to  hunt  for  riches."  So  the  old  man 
replied,  and  said  to  the  youth,  "As  you  go  now,  if  you  see  in  that  place 
a  large  man,  do  not  stand  in  front  of  him,  but  behind  him,  and  say 
unto  him,  "  I  wish  to  get  riches." 

Thereupon  the  boy  went  and  did  as  the  old  man  had  instructed 
him.  The  large  man  therefore  gave  him  a  small  ivory  tusk,  and  said 
to  him,  "  If  you  want  anything,  strike  upon  the  ground  with  this  small 
ivory  tusk  once:  do  not  strike  twice,  but  once  only." 

The  boy  did  in  this  manner,  and  he  became  very  rich. 

The  older  son  went  also;  but  he  blundered,  for  he  ill-treated  the 
old  man,  and  showed  no  mercy  to  him;  he  also  stood  in  front  of  the 
man,  therefore  he  did  not  instruct  him  as  to  what  he  should  do. 

Thus  he  failed  to  obtain  any  riches,  because  he  was  not  prudent. 

10.    THE    STORY   OF   THE   FOOL 

Once  upon  a  time  many  people  went  out  to  make  war  and  raids, 
and  they  took  many  people  as  prisoners.  One  man  among  them, 
however,  was  a  fool.  His  brothers  caught  man\'  prisoners,  but  the 
one  born  a  fool  caught  as  his  only  prisoner  oiiK-  a  cockroach.  His 
brothers,  who  had  taken  man\-  i)risoners,  said  unto  him,  "Show  uiiio  us 
the  prisoner  \(hi  have  taken;"  but  he  said  to  them,  "I  ha\e  him  ()\er 
yonder."  Again  his  brothers  said  to  him  the  second  time,  "Show 
unto  us  the  prisoner  you  have  taken:"  therefore  he  answered  tluni, 
and  said,  "You  begin,  and  show  me  first  the  [)risoners  you  ha\e  taken." 
So  they  showc-d  him  the  prisoners  the>'  had  taken:  thereupon  he  also 
showed  them  the  thing  iu-  had  taken.  riicrefore  they  made  fun  of 
him;  but  he  replied,  "1  ha\e  the  things  that  i)elong  to  me,  the  lool." 

When  they  had  reached  home  again,  he  released  his  jirisoner.  Then 
a  fowl  came  and  picked  it  u|):  so  he  asked  the  owiu-r  of  the  fowl,  "What 
shall  I  do?"  Thereupon  the  man  who  owned  the  fowl  said,  "  \'ou 
take  the  fowl."  So  he  took  the  fowl,  and  kejjt  it  in  the  street  of  the 
village.  After  that  a  civet-cat  canu-  and  ( .night  (he  fowl,  therefore  he 
killed  the  cat  and  threw  the  corpse  into  the  \  .iid.      rhereiii)on  a  leopard 


114  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

came  and  stole  the  body  of  the  civet-cat,  and  he  followed  the  leopard 
and  killed  it  and  stretched  the  skin  on  a  drum. 

After  this  a  man  who  had  just  taken  to  himself  a  wife  came  to  him 
to  borrow  his  drum.  The  man  who  had  married  a  wife  kept  on  asking 
him  for  the  drum ;  so  finally  the  fool  consented,  and  gave  him  the  drum, 
and  said  to  him,  "Do  not  tear  the  skin  of  my  drum."  Then  the  man 
had  a  marriage-dance,  and  the  drum  of  the  fool  split  open;  so  the  fool 
said  to  him,  "Give  me  back  my  drum."  Therefore  the  man  gave  him 
a  woman. 

Thus  the  fool  himself  had  a  marriage-dance,  and  he  begat  many 
children,  and  he  became  a  real  man  because  of  the  cockroach  he  had 
caught  in  war.  He  gave  his  daughters  in  marriage,  and  became  a 
rich  man. 

II.     THE    TORTOISE   AND   THE    MONKEY 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Tortoise  and  the  Monkey  lived  in  friendship. 
So  the  Tortoise  went  to  the  village  of  the  Monkey;  and  therefore 
the  Monkey  killed  a  fowl,  and  said  to  his  wife,  "Cook  this  fowl 
for  the  Tortoise."  The  woman  therefore  cooked  the  fowl.  A  little 
later  the  husband  came  and  asked  his  wife,  "  Have  you  finished  cooking 
the  food?"  and  the  woman  replied,  "Yes."  Thereupon  the  Monkey 
said  again  to  his  wife,"  Put  the  food  on  the  loft  over  the  fire,  thus  the 
Tortoise  will  not  be  able  to  eat  this  food."  They  accordingly  did 
in  this  manner. 

After  this  the  Monkey  said  to  the  Tortoise,  "Go  to  the  house  and 
eat  the  food."  So  the  Tortoise  went  to  the  house,  and  found  the  food 
on  the  loft  over  the  fire;  and  he  wore  himself  out  trying  to  get  at  the 
food,  for  he  could  not  climb  up  to  the  loft.  Therefore  he  gave  up  in 
disgust,  and  said  to  the  Monkey,  "I  am  going  home  now;"  and  the 
Monkey  replied,  "All  right,  go  ahead!"  Then  said  the  Tortoise  to 
the  Monkey,  "Come  over  the  day  after  to-morrow  and  see  me." 

The  Monkey  came,  therefore,  to  visit  the  Tortoise.  The  Tortoise 
also  had  food  cooked  for  the  Monkey,  and  said  to  him,  "It  is  like  this 
with  my  food :  when  you  wish  to  eat  of  it,  you  will  first  have  to  wash 
your  hands  real  clean  and  white."  So  the  Monkey  said,  "Give  me 
some  water;"  and  they  brought  him  a  crock  of  water  and  gave  it  to 
him.  Then  the  Monkey  began  to  wash  his  hands;  and  he  washed  and 
washed,  and  kept  on  washing,  but  they  would  not  rub  clean,  but 
remained  as  black  as  ever.  Therefore  he  gave  up  in  disgust,  and  said 
to  the  Tortoise,  "I  am  going  home  now;"  and  the  Tortoise  replied, 
"Go  ahead!"     So  he  went  home  to  his  village. 

When  they  talked  this  palaver,  the  Monkey  was  judged  to  be  at 
fault.  Thereupon  the  Tortoise  said  to  the  Monkey,  "You  troubled 
me  when  you  put  the  food  for  me  on  the  loft  over  the  fire:  therefore  I 
also  said  to  you,  'Wash  your  hands  clean,'  for  I  knew  very  well  that 
your  hands  could  never  be  white." 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  115 

12.    THE   TORTOISE   AND   THE   LEOPARD    (first  VCrsion) 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Tortoise  and  the  Leopard  lived  in  the  same 
town.  The  Tortoise  spoke  up,  and  said,  "I  am  able  to  do  in  this 
fashion :  they  may  cut  my  head  off,  but  I  can  put  it  on  again."  There- 
upon the  Leopard  spoke  up,  and  said,  "If  you  can  cut  your  head  off, 
I  can  do  it  also."  So  the  Tortoise,  in  turn,  replied  to  the  Leopard, 
"I  know  that  you  surpass  me  only  in  fierceness,  but  I  surpass  you  in 
shrewdness."  The  Leopard  again  said,  "What  thing  is  there  that  you 
can  do  that  I  could  not  do?"  Thereupon  said  the  Tortoise  to  the 
Leopard,  "Call  all  the  animals  to  come  together  here  two  days  from 
now."     After  that  the  Leopard  went  home. 

Two  days  later  the  Leopard  called  together  all  the  animals,  and 
they  went  to  the  village  of  the  Tortoise.  So  the  Tortoise  sent  his 
children  out,  and  said  to  them,  "Go  and  find  a  lizard  for  me."  Then 
the  children  of  the  Tortoise  went  and  hunted  for  a  lizard;  and  as  they 
hunted,  they  found  one;  and  they  came  home  and  gave  the  lizard  to 
the  Tortoise.  The  Tortoise  took  the  lizard  and  cut  off  its  head,  and 
said  to  his  children,  "Go  and  stick  up  the  head  of  the  lizard  in  the 
street."  After  this  he  said  to  his  children,  "When  all  the  animals  are 
dancing,  this  head  will  be  exposed  in  the  street;  but  when  the  dance  is 
about  half  through,  you  bring  back  the  head  of  the  lizard,  and  say, 
'We  are  taking  the  head  back  to  the  Tortoise,  and  he  will  put  it  on 
again.'"  Thus  did  the  children  of  the  Tortoise.  When  the  animals 
saw  the  head  of  the  lizard,  they  said,  "This  is  really  the  head  of  the 
lizard ;  so  they  really  meant  it  when  they  said  that  the  Tortoise  would 
cut  his  head  off."  Then  they  danced  again;  and  when  the  dance  was 
about  half  through,  the  children  of  the  Tortoise  came  and  took  the 
head  of  the  lizard,  and  said,  "We  are  taking  the  head  back  to  the 
Tortoise,  so  that  he  can  put  it  on  again."  So  they  went  to  where  the 
Tortoise  was  in  the  house,  and  the  Tortoise  threw  the  head  of  the 
lizard  away.  Then  the  Tortoise  went  out  and  saw  the  animals;  and 
the  animals  also  saw  the  Tortoise,  that  he  had  cut  his  head  off  and  still 
lived  again,  so  that  they  greatly  wondered,  and  said,  "The  Tortoise 
has  surely  surpassed  all  others.  Can  an>-  oik-,  indeed,  cut  olY  his 
head  and  yet  li\e  again?" 

Thert'Ui)on  said  tin-  Lc()|)ard  to  all  tla-  animals,  "To-morrow  \'ou  all 
come  again,  and  you  will  see  what  I  also  will  do."  Then  s.iid  the 
Tortoise  to  them,  "As  you  go  away,  rcmrnihcr,  the  lu-ad  of  a  tortoise 
resembles  the  luad  of  a  lizard,  but  the  luad  of  a  k'oj)ar(l  resembles 
the  head  of  a  fox."     .After  that  the  Leopard  went  to  his  town. 

13.    Tiiic  TOKToisi';  AND  Till-:   i.i:(H'.\Rn  {second  version) 
Once  upon  a  time  the  Tortoise  and  the  Leopard  lived  in  a  town, 
and  they  had  a  dispute.     The  Tortoise  said,  "I  am  able,  though  they 


1 1 6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

bury  me  in  a  grave,  to  rise  again."  Thereupon  the  Leopard  dug  a 
large  pit,  which  was  very  deep  in  the  ground;  and  when  the  Leopard 
had  finished  digging  it,  he  took  the  Tortoise  and  threw  him  down  into 
the  pit.     After  that  he  filled  up  the  pit  and  returned  home  to  his  town. 

The  Tortoise  staid  for  some  little  time  down  there  in  the  pit,  when 
suddenly  a  rat  came  along,  which  was  burrowing  a  hole;  and  he  came 
to  where  the  Tortoise  was  in  the  bottom  of  the  pit.  In  this  way  the 
Tortoise  escaped  from  the  pit,  and  went  home  to  his  town. 

Therefore  the  Leopard  marvelled,  and  asked  the  Tortoise,  "Where 
did  you  get  out  of  the  pit?"  Thereupon  the  Leopard  also  said  to  the 
Tortoise,  "Come  on,  now!  let  us  go,  and  you  put  me  also  into  the 
grave."  So  the  Tortoise  also  dug  a  pit,  but  it  was  shallow;  and  the 
Tortoise  threw  the  Leopard  into  the  pit,  and  filled  it  up  and  went  home. 
When  night  came,  the  Leopard  called  out  in  anguish  and  fear,  and 
said,  "Let  them  come  now  and  take  me  out  of  this  pit!"  So  the 
people  came  and  took  him  out  of  the  pit. 

Thus  do  we  see  that  the  Leopard  is  certainly  a  fool,  because  In 
every  instance  where  the  Tortoise  tempted  him,  he  easily  fell  into 
the  trap. 

Thus  do  we  see  that  the  Leopard  is  foolish,  and  has  no  prudence. 

14.    THE   TORTOISE  AND  THE  LEOPARD  QUARREL  ABOUT  THEIR  VILLAGES 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  Tortoise  and  a  Leopard.  The 
Tortoise  built  a  town  by  the  name  of  Minte'ebo.  This  town  produced 
food  in  abundance,  but  in  the  town  of  the  Leopard  there  was  not  even 
as  much  as  an  unripe  plantain.  Then  said  the  Leopard,  "  I  will  go  and 
rob  the  Tortoise  of  his  town."  So  he  called  his  children,  and  said  unto 
them,  "Let  us  leave  this  town  of  Nkole  Melen  ('hill  of  the  palms')!" 
And  they  went  away  from  there.  Then  said  the  Tortoise,  "  I  will  kill 
the  Leopard  yet,  and  that  before  very  long,  too."  So  the  Tortoise  and 
his  children  went  from  there  to  live  in  another  town,  which  was  also 
called  Minte'ebo.  This  town  also  produced  food  in  abundance;  but 
into  the  town  of  the  Leopard  again  there  came  a  famine,  so  that  there 
was  not  the  least  bit  of  food  there  for  them  to  eat. 

Then  said  the  Leopard,  "Come  on,  children !  Let  us  go  and  again  rob 
the  Tortoise  of  his  town,  to  which  he  has  gone  to  live,  at  Minte'ebo!" 
Thereupon  they  left  the  town,  and  came  upon  the  Tortoise  living 
at  Minte'ebo;  and  the  Leopard  spoke  up,  and  said,  "Hurry  up,  now, 
and  move  from  the  village-site  of  my  father!"  Then  said  the  children 
of  the  Tortoise  to  the  Tortoise,  "You  are  afraid  of  the  Leopard 
because  he  has  robbed  you  of  your  towns."  But  the  Tortoise  replied, 
"No,  my  children,  you  just  let  me  alone!  I  will  kill  the  Leopard  yet, 
and  that  before  very  long,  too."  So  they  went  away  from  Minte'ebo; 
but  the  Leopard  came  and  settled  there,  and  lived  there.     Then  the 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  117 

Tortoise  went  to  live  at  another  place,  called  Memvutu  Si.  In  this 
town  also  food  was  again  very  plentiful,  as  it  had  been  in  the  other 
towns  in  which  they  had  begun  to  live. 

But  a  famine  came  again  upon  the  Leopard :  so  he  said  to  his  children, 
"Up,  now,  and  let  us  go  and  rob  the  Tortoise  again  of  his  town,  to 
which  he  has  gone  to  live!"  So  they  left  Minte'ebo  and  went  and 
found  the  Tortoise  living  at  Memvutu  Si.  The  Leopard  said,  "Move 
out  from  my  father's  village-site!  When  my  father  died,  they  buried 
him  in  this  little  palaver-house."  But  the  Tortoise  replied,  "No,  but 
let  us  go  and  settle  this  dispute  about  these  towns;  but  we  will  not 
argue  the  case  upon  the  earth,  but  before  the  spirits."  Then  the 
Tortoise  said,  "Come  to-morrow  morning." 

When  the  Tortoise  was  alone,  he  called  his  oldest  son,  and  said  to 
him,  "Go  and  call  all  the  Tortoises  in  this  forest,  and  put  them  into  the 
bottom  of  this  pit  here."  When  they  dug  the  pit,  they  dug  also  a 
little  hole  off  to  one  side,  about  the  middle  of  the  pit. 

When  the  next  morning  had  dawned,  the  Leopard  and  his  children 
came.  Then  the  Tortoise  said,  "Come,  now,  and  see  how  I  go  down 
to  the  spirits!"  And  he  took  a  bundle  of  spears  and  his  pouch,  and 
put  a  red  cap  on  his  head,  and  went  down  into  the  grave,  into  the  space 
off  to  one  side  of  the  grave.  Then  said  the  Tortoise,  "Come  hither!" 
and  Ekoto  Kulu  came  and  stood  beside  the  grave,  and  they  filled  xxyy  the 
grave. 

Thereupon  the  oldest  son  of  the  Tortoise,  whose  name  was  Ekoto 
Kulu,  said,  "My  father  and  the  Leopard  are  disputing  o\er  their 
towns:  my  father  lived  first  at  Minte'ebo,  again  at  Minte'ebo,  and  last 
at  Memvutu  Si;  but  the  Leopard  came  and  said,  'These  are  the 
village-sites  of  my  father.'  This  is  the  dispute  they  are  to  settle 
to-day.  If  the  Leopard  is  truly  the  owner  of  these  towns,  >ou  answer 
in  the  affirmative."  But  they  all  kept  silent.  Again  he  asked  the 
second  time,  but  again  they  all  remained  silent.  After  that  lie  said, 
"The  Tortoise  truly  owns  these  towns,  the  Leopard  is  only  tr\ing 
to  rob  them  from  him;"  and  they  all  rei)lie(l  in  the  artirmati\e.  Again 
he  asked  the  same  (|uestion  the  second  tiiiic,  and  ihcy  all  replied, 
"Yes,"  at  the  t(jp  of  their  voices.  Thereupon  lie  said,  "Opi-n  up  the 
grave!"  Then  cam(>  the  Tortoise  out  of  the  gra\e,  and  said,  "O 
Leoparfl !  wondcrfullN  beautiful  things  are  down  therewith  the  spirits; 
but  my  father  always  told  me,  'Don't  go,  lest  you  die!'" 

The  Leopard  said,  "The  Tortoise  is  trsing  to  get  ahead  of  me;" 
and  again  he  siiid  to  all  |)resciit.  "  I  am  going  now,"  and  so  down  into 
the  grave  he  went.  When  he  went  into  the  grave,  he  did  not  go 
into  the  little  by-path  from  which  the  Tortoise  came  back.  Tlu'n 
stood  Akulu  Ze,  the  oldest  son  of  the  Le()|)ar(l,  upini  the  gra\i',  and 
said,  "If  the  Leopard  himself  tcalK'  owns  these  towns,  >-ou  answer  in 


1 18  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

the  affirmative;"  but  ilicy  all  kept  silence.  Again  he  asked  the  second 
lime;  but  all  remained  silent  still.  Then  he  said,  "Does  the  Tortoise 
own  these  towns,  indeed  ?"  and  they  all  replied,  "Yes,"  at  the  top 
of  their  voices.  Thereupon  he  said,  "Open  up  the  grave!"  but  when 
they  opened  the  grave,  they  found  that  the  Leopard  had  died. 

Therefore  the  women  were  about  to  raise  a  chant  to  mourn  for  tlie 
Leopard;  but  he  said,  "No,  the  Leopard  has  died  because  of  his 
own  foolishness,  the  Tortoise  owns  these  towns." 

Thereupon  the  Tortoise  said,  "Did  not  I  say  unto  you,  'I  will  kill 
the  Leopard  yet,  and  that  before  very  long,  too'  ?  Have  you  seen  me 
do  it  now?" 

15.    THREE   MEN    WHO    QUARRELLED    ABOUT   AN    ELEPHANT 

Once  upon  a  time  three  men  went  on  a  journey.  One  of  them  had 
some  food  cooked  in  a  leaf;  another  one,  a  roll  of  cassava;  and  the 
third  one  had  a  dog  with  him.  Thus  they  were  journeying  together 
along  the  road. 

Thereupon  said  the  man  who  had  some  food  cooked  in  a  leaf  to  the 
one  who  had  the  cassava-roll,  "I  have  nothing  to  eat  with  my  food." 
Thus  said  also  the  one  who  had  the  cassava,  "I  have  nothing  to  eat 
with  my  cassava."  Therefore  they  sat  down  together,  and  ate  the 
cooked  food  in  the  leaf  and  also  the  roll  of  cassava. 

When  they  had  finished  eating,  they  threw  away  the  leaf;  and  the 
dog  went  and  licked  off  the  leaf,  while  the  men  went  on  ahead.  Then 
said  the  owner  of  the  dog  to  the  others,  "My  dog  is  left  behind,  I  will 
go  back  after  it;"  and  they  replied,  "Go  ahead!"  So  he  went  back  to 
get  the  dog.  When  the  man  came  to  the  place,  lo,  and  behold !  the 
dog  was  eating  an  elephant.  Then  he  took  an  ivory  tusk,  and  with 
the  dog  returned  to  where  he  had  left  the  men;  and  he  told  them,  "  My 
dog  found  a  dead  elephant."  Thereupon  they  said  to  him,  "The 
elephant  belongs  to  us."  But  he  said,  "  No,  come  along  with  me,  and 
we  will  settle  this  dispute  in  the  town!"     So  they  went  to  the  town. 

One  man  said,  "Were  it  not  that  I  brought  the  food  cooked  in  a 
leaf,  you  never  would  have  found  the  elephant."  Another  one  said, 
"Were  it  not  that  I  brought  the  cassava-roll,  you  never  would  have 
found  the  elephant."  The  owner  of  the  dog  said,  "I  myself  own  the 
elephant,  because  1  brought  the  dog." 

They  settled  the  dispute  as  follows:  "The  owner  of  the  dog  gets  one 
half  of  the  elephant,  the  other  two  take  the  other  half." 

16.  THE  YOUNG  SNAKE  AND  Till':  VOINC  FROG 

Once  upon  a  time  it  came  to  pass  that  famine  came  upon  all  the 
animals  of  the  forest,  so  that  they  had  not  a  thing  to  eat.  Upon  a 
certain  day  the  young  Snake  and  the  young  Frog  were  playing  on  a 


Bulu  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  119 

cleared  space  in  the  sand.  When  it  came  to  be  late  in  the  afternoon, 
the  young  Snake  said,  "I  am  tired  of  play,  I  am  going  home  now;" 
and  the  little  Frog  replied,  "Go  on  home!  We  will  meet  again  to- 
morrow."    Thus  they  separated. 

When  the  young  Snake  came  into  the  house  of  his  mother,  he  said 
to  his  mother,  "I  am  hungry."  Thereupon  the  mother  asked  him, 
"Where  do  you  come  from?"  and  he  replied,  "I  come  from  play,  the 
young  Frog  and  I  have  been  playing  together."  Then  said  his 
mother  to  him,  "That  is  food  which  you  have  let  go  again.  Why,  son, 
don't  you  really  know,  those  are  the  very  things  for  which  we  hunt? 
Now,  you  do  like  this  when  you  and  he  are  playing  together  again: 
then  you  just  catch  him  and  swallow  him." 

When  the  young  Frog  came  into  the  house  of  his  mother  again,  his 
mother  asked  him,  "Where  do  you  come  from?"  and  he  replied,  "I 
come  from  i)lay,  the  young  Snake  and  I  have  been  playing  together." 
Then  said  his  mother  to  him,  "Are  you,  indeed,  a  fool?  Don't  you 
really  know  that  the  Snakes  hunt  for  us?  Don't  you  go  there  again 
to-morrow!"  The  young  Frog  replied,  "I  will  not  go,  I  will  obey;" 
but  he  went  again  to  the  place  of  play. 

When  he  came  to  the  place  of  play,  the  young  Snake  said  to  him, 
"Come,  let  us  play!"  but  the  young  Frog  said  to  him,  "The  instruc- 
tions your  father  and  mother  gave  you,  the  same  kind  of  instructions 
(lid  my  father  and  mother  impart  to  me.     I  will  not  come  there." 

Thus  was  the  young  Snake  outwitted,  for  he  intended  to  catch  the 
>oung  Frog. 

17.     Tin:    T(JRTOISE    AND    THE    LEOPARD    AND    THE    PYTHON 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Leopard  came  to  the  Tortoise,  and  said  to 
her,  "Catch  the  Python  for  me!"  So  the  Tortoise  dug  a  pit  and 
covered  the  top.  Then  said  the  Python  also  to  the  Tortoise,  "Catch 
the  Leopard  for  mc!"     Therefore  the  Tortoise  felt  very  badly. 

When  the  Leopard  came  to  sec  the  Tortoise,  the  Tortoise  said  to 
liiin,  "Please  go  over  yonder!"  So,  as  the  Leojjard  went  o\er  to  the 
pit,  he  fell  into  it. 

When  the  Python  came  to  see  the  Tortoise,  the  Tortoise  said  to  her, 
"  Please  go  over  yonder!"  and  as  the  Python  was  going  across  the  pit, 
she  fell  into  it. 

Thereupon  said  the  Tortoi.se  to  the  Python  and  to  the  Leopard, 
"You  are  both  now  down  in  the  |)it:  settle  this  affair  as  you  wish  to 
between  you."  Then  said  the  Leoparil  to  the  Python,  "  I  have  indeed 
caught  very  many  beasts  of  the  forest,  but  1  have  never  caught  a 
python."  Thereupon  said  the  Python  also  to  the  Leopard,  "I  have 
caught,  indeed,  many  beastsof  the  forest,  but  have  I  ever  caught  you?" 
and  the  Leopard  replied,  "No."     'rhc>'  spoke  after  this  fashion,  be- 


120  Journal  oj  Aynerican  Folk-Lore 

cause  one  of  them  did  not  despise  the  other.     And  thereafter  they 
separated  as  friends. 

1 8.     THI-;    DOG    AND    TIIK    P.\NGOLIN 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Dog  went  to  visit  the  PangoHn;  and  the 
PangoHn  said  to  him,  "You  and  my  child  please  stay  here  and  crack 
these  gourd-seeds  for  me,  while  I  go  to  the  garden."  Thus  the  Dog 
and  the  child  were  left  together;  and  as  they  cracked  the  seeds,  the 
Dog  cracked  them  open  and  put  the  kernels  into  a  basin,  but  the  child 
cracked  them  and  put  them  into  his  mouth.  Therefore  the  Dog  asked 
the  child,  "Why  do  you  do  after  this  fashion?  I  crack  the  seeds  and 
put  the  kernels  into  a  basin,  but  you  put  the  kernels  into  your  mouth." 
When  the  Dog  had  finished  speaking  in  this  way,  the  child  died. 

When  the  Dog  was  about  to  return  to  his  town,  the  woman  asked 
him,  "Of  what  did  the  child  die?"  So  the  Dog  said  to  her,  "I  asked 
him,  'Why  do  you  do  like  this:  while  I  am  cracking  the  seeds,  you  put 
them  into  your  mouth?' "  and  when  the  Dog  had  finished  relating  this 
to  the  woman,  the  woman  also  fell  down  and  died.  And  all  the  people, 
—  when  they  asked  the  Dog,  and  he  replied,  "I  asked  him,  'Why  do 
you  put  the  kernels  into  your  mouth?'  and  he  answered  the  people  in 
that  way,"  —  the  people  suddenly  died. 

Finally  the  sister  of  the  Dog  came;  and  she  asked  the  Dog,  "Of 
what  did  the  people  die?"  and  he  said,  "You  do  like  this:  you  crack 
the  gourd-seeds  and  unexpectedly  eat  the  kernels,  thus  did  the  child  die 
unexpectedly."     Thereupon  his  sister  also  fell  down  and  died. 

Therefore  said  the  Dog,  "  If  it  is  after  this  fashion,  I  will  endure  living 
without  ever  speaking  to  people  again." 

Silent  with  that  silence  the  dog  remains  to  this  very  day. 

19.     THE  MAN  WHO  DIED  AND  LEFT  CHILDREN 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  man  who  begat  three  sons.  When 
their  father  died,  these  sons  were  left  poor  beggars.  Their  father  came 
and  appeared  to  them  by  night,  and  said,  "You  go  to-morrow  and  sit 
under  a  certain  butternut-tree." 

When  the  day  had  dawned,  they  arose  and  went  to  that  place,  and 
they  camped  there  one  night.  Then  said  their  father  unto  them,  "Of 
the  fruits  which  will  fall  from  this  tree,  the  one  which  falls  first  belongs 
to  the  oldest,  the  second  one  to  the  next  son,  and  the  last  one  will 
belong  to  the  one  born  last." 

When  the  fruits  began  to  fall,  they  said  to  the  youngest  son,  "You 
go  and  pick  it  up,  for  you  are  the  smallest."  After  this  the  second 
son  picked  up  the  second  fruit,  and  later  the  oldest  one  picked  up  the 
one  which  fell  last. 

Thereupon  they  all  took  up  their  fruits  and  started  for  home.     But 


BkIh  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  121 

as  they  were  going  along  the  road,  the  oldest  one  siiid.  "  M\  fruit  is  too 
heavy,  indeed,  I  will  open  it."  So  he  took  a  cutlass  and  split  the 
fruit  open,  so  all  the  riches  which  were  enclosed  in  the  fruit  went  to  the 
bush.  Therefore  he  howled  a  great  howl,  and  followed  after  his 
brothers,  and  said  unto  them,  "There  is  not  a  single  thing  in  these 
fruits."  Then  he  who  was  the  second  oldest,  he  also  split  open  the 
fruit;  and  then  all  the  riches  that  were  in  the  fruit  went  to  the  bush. 

Thereupon  the>-  planned  together  to  deceive  their  youngest  brother. 
Then  they  followed  him  in  haste,  because  they  thought  that  they 
would  catch  up  with  him  on  the  way,  and  they  would  then  say  unto 
him,  "Split  open  the  fruit,  there  is  nothing  in  it;"  but  instead  of  this, 
they  did  not  come  up  to  him  before  he  reached  town,  but  they  found 
him  already  seated  in  his  house. 

When  he  came  into  his  house,  however,  he  shut  the  door  and  fastened 
it  securely.  So  his  brothers  came  and  raised  their  voices,  and  said, 
"The  fruit  which  \ou  have,  there  is  not  a  thing  in  it."  After  that  he 
took  a  cutlass  and  split  the  fruit  open,  and  then  riches  of  all  sorts  came 
out  of  the  fruit,  which  filled  the  house  full. 

Thus  did  the  older  brothers  fail  to  obtain  riches,  because  the\-  were 
easily  tired  of  a  heavy  load:  therefore  they  again  begged  their  brother 
for  some  of  his  riches. 

20.     THE  BOY  AND  THE  GIRL 

Once  upon  a  time  a  sister  and  her  brother  went  fishing.  WIilii  ihey 
returned  to  the  town,  they  found  that  their  mother  and  father  and 
all  the  other  people  had  mo\cd  awa>'.  Thus  they  were  left  alone  on  the 
site  of  the  deserted  \  illagc.  Then  said  the  brother  to  his  sister,  "  My 
father  and  I  found  a  cave  in  the  rocks  over  yonder."  So  the  sister 
re[)lie<l,  "  Up,  and  let  us  go  and  live  there!"     So  the>'  went  there  to  live. 

While  they  were  living  in  that  i^lace,  on  several  mornings  the  sister 
went  to  visit  the  traps;  and  lo,  and  behold!  she  found  a  dead  elephant 
in  the  middle  of  the  i)ath.  Then  she  said,  "  Is  there  any  other  person 
in  this  forest.''"  And  as  she  was  listening,  there  was  a  man  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  forest.  Then  the  girl  called  out.  "Come,  let  us  cut 
up  this  elc|)hant!"  But  tin-  man  said  to  the  ^,Mrl,  "It  is  not  nou  who 
owns  this  elephant,  but  it  belonj^s  to  me."  Hut  the  girl  replied,  "NO. 
indeed!  I  myself  own  this  elephant."  Thereupon  said  the  man.  "If 
you  talk  there  a>.;ain.  I  will  kill  nou."  So  the  girl,  in  turn,  said  to 
him.  "When  we  are  cutting  up  the  elr|)lKint.  may  I  make  up  a  pl.in-'" 
And  he  replied,  "Yes,  make  your  plan  "  Therefore  she  said,  "It  is 
fitting  that  you  sln)ul(l  cut  up  the  ilcph.mt,  but  that  I  take  the  baskets 
full  of  meat  to  your  \illage/'  lie  replitd,  "^^•■-,  imlicil,  von  tiki-  tin- 
baskets  full  of  meat  to  my  village." 

But   instead  of  this  the  v;irl  carried  the  baski  t>  lull  nl   nu.it   to  the 


122  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

cave  in  the  rocks,  where  she  and  her  brother  lixed;  but  the  last  basket- 
ful she  carried  and  gave  to  the  wife  of  the  man  with  whom  she  dis- 
puted about  the  elephant.  Then  she  returned  in  haste,  and  entered 
the  cave  in  the  rocks,  where  she  and  her  brother  were  living. 

After  this  the  man  returned  to  his  village,  and  said  to  his  wife, 
"Come  and  wash  my  hands!"  His  wife  came  and  washed  his  hands; 
and  he  asked  her,  "Did  you  receive  the  elephant-meat  which  I  sent 
hither?"  And  the  wife  replied,  "I  have  seen  only  one  basketful, 
which  the  girl  brought."  To  this  he  replied,  "Do  you  really  mean 
it?"  And  she  replied,  "Certainly,  I  do!  Come  into  the  house  and 
look  for  yourself  !" 

Thereupon  said  the  husband,  "Ondoiiclo  Ejo,  where  will  she  be 
going  to-morrow?"  The  girl  who  stole  the  elephant-meat  had  that 
name;  and  she  said,  "  I  will  go  to  the  garden  to-morrow  for  plantains." 
Then  the  man  changed  himself  into  a  large  plantain-stalk.  When 
the  day  dawned,  Ondonelo  Ej6  went  to  get  plantains  in  the  garden. 
She  soon  finished  taking  the  plantains  that  were  small,  but  she  left 
the  one  which  was  large.  Then  said  she  to  him,  "When  you  came  and 
changed  yourself  into  a  large  plantain,  did  I  not  know  you?"  Then 
the  man  drove  her  away;  and  she  said,  "O  Edu  Akok,  Edu  Akok!" 
Then  the  brother  opened  the  rock  to  her.  Thus  he  and  she  together 
did  many  things  like  this. 

On  a  certain  day  this  man  went  to  Odime  Zezole,  and  asked  him, 
"How  can  I  kill  this  girl  ?"  And  Odime  Zezole  said  to  him,  "Go 
and  set  traps  in  the  place  where  she  will  go  in  the  morning;  and  thus 
it  will  happen,  that  when  you  run  after  her,  she  will  be  caught  in  a 
trap."  Thereupon  the  man  asked,  "Ondoiielo  Ejo,  where  will  she 
be  going  to-morrow  ?"  She  replied,  "I  am  not  going  anywhere  to- 
morrow." Thus  it  happens  and  thus  it  goes,  when  you  have  killed 
an  animal,  do  you  not  first  partake  of  the  meat  thereof?  Listen, 
now,  as  I  am  eating  the  liver  of  the  elephant  at  this  very  time. 

Finally  this  man  grew  weary  of  pursuing  this  girl,  for  she  surpassed 
him  in  shrewdness. 

21.  THE  DUNCE  WHO  FOUND  OUT  DECEPTION 

Once  upon  a  time  a  dunce  went  out  to  set  traps;  and  when  he  visited 
the  traps,  he  found  a  red  antelope  caught,  so  he  took  il  hoine.  The 
people,  however,  took  it  and  ate  it :  he  himself  did  not  eat  of  it,  because 
he  was  an  uninitiated  person.  Thus  he  killed  many  animals;  but 
they  said,  "You  are  not  able  to  eat  of  them,  for  you  are  an  uninitiated 
person." 

Upon  a  certain  day,  as  he  came  from  visiting  the  traps,  his  brothers 
asked  him,  "Whence  do  you  come?"  and  he  replied,  "  I  have  returned 
from  a  walk."     So  they  again  said,  "W1iy  do  you  answer  us  in  this 


Buhl  Tales  from  Kamerun,  West  Africa  123 

way?"  and  he  told  them,  "  I  can  kill  all  of  these  animals,  but  I  myself 
do  not  eat  of  them."  Therefore  they  said  to  him,  "Are  we  to  blame  for 
the  fact  that  \ou  are  not  initialed  ?" 

Again  the  boy  went  to  \isit  his  traps;  and  he  found  there  a  red 
antelope  iSo),  a  mouse-colored  one  (okpicen),  and  a  dark  one  (mvin). 
Then  he  took  all  of  these  animals  out  of  the  traps  and  carried  them 
away,  and  hung  them  up  at  the  cross-roads,  but  he  himself  hid 
beside  the  path. 

People  that  passed  by  that  place,  when  they  saw  the  animals, 
said,  "Look  yonder  and  see !  An  okpwen  and  mvin  and  So  are  hanging 
there!"  When  they  had  passed,  the  dunce  knew  which  one  was  the 
So  antelope.     After  that  he  took  the  game  and  went  to  town. 

When  he  arrived  in  town,  he  said  to  his  brothers,  "The  dunce  now 
knows  the  animal  which  you  call  So."  Therefore  he  took  only  the 
So  and  gave  it  to  them,  but  he  himself  took  the  other  two  antelopes 
and  went  to  his  mother's  house.  After  this  said  his  brothers  to  him, 
"We  perceive  now  that  this  dunce  knows  the  So  antelope;  and  he 
replied,  "Yes,  indeed,  I  do  know  the  So  antelope  now." 

[22.    THE   STORY   OF   THE   HUNGRY   ELEPHANT 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  an  Elephant;  and  he  said  to  himself, 
"  I  am  \cry  hungry."  Therefore  he  walked  in  a  path  of  the  forest, 
and  he  found  a  bamboo-palm  standing  in  a  swamp.  He  therefore  went 
in  haste  and  broke  down  the  palm,  and  he  found  in  it  a  tender  bud 
of  the  palm-leaves.  But  when  he  took  out  the  bud  of  the  palm,  it 
fell  into  the  water.  Therefore  he  hunted  and  hunted  for  it,  but  could 
not  find  it;  for  he  had  riled  up  the  water,  and  it  blinded  his  eyes. 
Then  a  Frog  began  to  talk,  and  said,  "Listen!"  The  Elephant  did 
not  hear,  however,  but  hunted  all  the  more.  Thereupon  the  Frog 
spoke  again,  and  said,  "Listen!"  Therefore  the  Elephant  stood 
perfectly  still.  Thereupon  the  water  became  clear  again,  so  that  he 
found  the  palm-bud  and  ale  il. 

2.V    TIIK  SON-IN-LAW  AND  HIS  FATHER-IN-LAW 

Once  upon  a  lime  a  >-oung  man  and  his  falher-in-law  arose  and 
said,  "Let  us  go  and  kill  porcupines  al  the  akam-trec-!"  Wlu-n  they 
had  come  to  the  akain-lrce,  iheN'  si-t  uj)  tlicii-  nets.  Then  said  tiii- 
father-in-law  Xo  llie  son-in-law,  "You  go  and  rrtuni  liitlitr,  and  I  will 
la\'  in  wail  here."  So  the  son-in-law  went  and  rrturiicd  again;  and 
a  porcupine  came  and  ran  into  the  ntt.aiid  the  fatlur-iii-law  (augiit 
it.  Al  that  time  his  bell  becanu-  unfastrned,  and  Uv  calli'd  out, 
"Ah,  my  son-in-law!  I  have  two  things  here  to  look  after."  .And  the 
son-in-law  rciilitd,  "Let  oiu-  of  them  go."  Sd  Iu-  nUascd  \hv  porcu- 
pine, and  fastened  his  bell  again. 


1 24  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

After  this  the  son-in-law  said  to  his  father-in-law,  "You  go  and  drive 
the  game  hither,  while  I  lay  in  wait  here."  When  he  drove,  a  porcu- 
pine ran  into  the  net,  and  the  son-in-law  caught  it,  but  the  string 
around  his  loin-cloth  became  loose.  So  he  said  to  his  father-in-law, 
"Here  I  hold  two  things."  So  the  father-in-law  replied,  "Let  one  of 
them  go!"  and  he  let  goof  the  cloth,  but  held  fast  to  the  porcupine. 

Thus  do  we  see  that  the  son-in-law  surpassed  his  father-in-law  in 
shrewdness. 

24.    THE   TORTOISE   WHO   WAITED   FOR   TOADSTOOLS 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  Tortoise;  and  one  day  he  saw  many 
toadstools  on  a  log:  so  he  said,  "  I  shall  not  leave  this  place  very  soon, 
not  until  these  toadstools  are  all  finished."  Just  about  the  time  he 
said  this,  some  men  said,  "Let  us  go  a-hunting!"  So  the  men 
went  on  a  hunt,  and  the  dogs  started  up  a  red  antelope.  So  they 
followed  the  antelope,  and  it  came  to  the  place  where  the  Tortoise  was. 
Then  said  the  Antelope  to  the  Tortoise,  "They  are  following  me;" 
but  the  Tortoise  said,  "I  wnll  never  leave  this  place  until  all  these 
toadstools  are  finished."  Thereupon  said  the  Antelope,  "Will  you 
please  protect  me,  lest  the  men  come  and  kill  both  me  and  you!" 
So  the  Tortoise  said,  "If  that  is  the  case,  there  is  nothing  for  me  to 
do  but  to  go;  not,  however,  to-day,  but  to-morrow."  After  that  the 
Antelope  said  to  him  again,  "Go  now!"  but  the  Tortoise  said,  "No!" 

So  the  Antelope  left  the  Tortoise  where  she  had  found  him,  but 
she  herself  ran  away.  Soon  after  this  the  dogs  came  along  and  picked, 
up  the  Tortoise;  and  when  the  men  came,  they  themselves  took  the 
Tortoise  and  brought  him  home  to  their  village. 

Great  Batanga, 

Kamerun,  West  Africa. 


Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  125 


NEGRO  TALES  FROM  GEORGIA 

[The  following  tales  were  collected  by  Mrs.  E.  M.  Backus  and  by 
Mrs.  Ethel  Hatton  Leitner  at  Grovetown,  Columbia  County,  Georgia. 
Those  collected  by  Mrs.  Backus  are  signed  E.  M.  B.;  those  collected 
by  Mrs.  Leitner,  E.  H.  L.  —  Ed.] 

1.     WHEN    BRER    RABBIT    SAW    BRER    DOG's    MOUTH    SO    BRER    DOG    CAN 

WHISTLE 

In  the  olc  times,  when  Brer  Dog  a  roaming  through  the  woods,  he 
come  up  with  Brer  Rabbit,  Brer  Dog  do.  Brer  Rabbit  he  set  on  the 
sand  just  a-whistling,  and  a-picking  of  the  banjo. 

Now,  in  them  times  Brer  Rabbit  was  a  master-hand  with  the  banjo. 
These  yer  hard  times  'pears  like  Brer  Rabbit  done  forget  how  to 
whistle,  and  you  don'  hear  him  pick  the  banjo  no  more;  but  in  the 
ole  times  Brer  Rabbit  he  whistle,  and  frolic,  and  frolic  and  whistle, 
from  morning  twell  night. 

Well,  Brer  Dog  he  mighty  envious  of  Brer  Rabbit,  'case  Brer 
Dog  he  can't  whistle,  and  he  can't  sing.  Brer  Dog  can't.  Brer  Dog 
he  think  he  give  anything  in  reason  if  he  could  whistle  like  Brer 
Rabbit,  so  Brer  Dog  he  beg  Brer  Rabbit  to  learn  hisself  to  whistle. 

Now,  Brer  Dog  he  called  the  most  reliable  man  in  the  county;  and 
he  have  some  standing.  Brer  Dog  do;  and  he  have  right  smart  of 
sense.  Brer  Dog  have;  but  bless  you,  Sah,  Brer  Dog  he  can't  conjure 
'longside  that  Ole  Brer  Rabbit,  that  he  can't. 

Well,  when  Brer  Dog  beg  Brer  Rabbit  will  he  learn  hisself  to  whistle, 
Brer  Rabbit  he  say,  "Brer  Dog,  your  mouth  ain'  shape  for  whistling." 
Brer  Rabbit  he  say,  "Name  of  goodness.  Brer  Dog,  how  come  you 
studying  'bout  whistling  with  that  mouth?  Now,  Brer  Dog,  you 
just  watch  my  mouth  and  try  youself;"  and  Brer  Rabbit  he  just 
corner  up  his  mouth  and  whistle  to  beat  all. 

Brer  Dog  he  try  his  best  to  corner  up  his  mouth  like  Brer  Rabbit; 
but  he  can't  do  it,  Brer  Dog  can't.  But  the  more  Brer  Dog  watch 
Brer  Rabbit  whistle,  the  more  envious  Brer  Dog  get  to  whistle  hisself. 

Now,  Brer  Dog  he  know  how  Brer  Rabbit  are  a  doctor;  so  Brer  Dog 
he  ax  Brer  Rabbit  can  he  fi.\  his  mouth  so  he  can  whistle? 

Brer  Rabbit,  he  'low  as  how  he  might  fix  Brer  Dog's  mouth  so  he 
can  whistle  just  lolcrablr,  but  Brir  Rabbit  he  'low  how  he  have  to 
saw  the  corners  of  Brer  Dog's  mouth  right  smart;  and  he  'low,  Brer 
Rabbit  do,  how  "it  be  mighty  worrysome  for  Brer  Dog." 

Now,  Brer  Dog,  he  that  envious  to  whistle  liki-  Hrrr  Rabbit,  Brtr 
Dog  he  'clare  he  let  Brer  Rabbit  saw  his  mouth. 


126  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Brer  Rabhit  he  say  as  how  he  don'  want  deceive  Brer  Dog;  and 
he  say,  Brer  Rabbit  do,  as  how  he  ain'  gwinc  promise  to  make  Brer 
Dog  whistle  more  same  as  hissclf,  but  he  say  he  "make  Brer  Dog 
whistle  tolerable." 

So  Brer  Rabbit  he  get  his  saw,  and  he  saw  a  slit  in  the  corners  Brer 
Dog's  mouth.  It  nateraly  just  nigh  'bout  kill  Ole  Brer  Dog;  but 
Brer  Dog  he  are  a  thorough-gwine  man,  and  what  Brer  Dog  say  he 
gwine  do,  he  gwine  do,  he  sure  is. 

So  Brer  Dog  he  just  hold  hisself  together,  and  let  Brer  Rabbit  saw 
his  mouth. 

Now,  Brer  Rabbit  he  know  in  his  own  mind  Brer  Dog  ain'  gwine 
whistle  sure  'nough,  but  Brer  Rabbit  he  don'  know  just  what  Brer 
Dog  gwine  say;  so  when  Brer  Rabbit  get  through  a-sawing  of  Brer 
Dog's  mouth.  Brer  Rabbit  he  say,  "Now  try  if  you  can  whistle!" 
Brer  Dog  he  open  his  mouth,  and  he  try  to  whistle;  and  he  say,  "Bow, 
wow,  wow!"     Brer  Dog  do  say  that  for  a  fact. 

Well,  when  Brer  Rabbit  hear  Brer  Dog  whistle  that  yer  way,  Brer 
Rabbit  he  that  scared  he  just  turn  and  fly  for  home;  but  Brer  Dog 
he  that  mad,  when  he  hears  hisself  whistle  that  yer  way,  he  say  he 
gwine  finish  Ole  Brer  Rabbit:  so  Brer  Dog  he  put  out  after  Brer 
Rabbit  just  a-hollering,  "Bow  wow,  bow  wow,  bow  wow!" 

Now,  in  them  times.  Brer  Rabbit  he  have  a  long  bushy  tail.  Brer 
Rabbit  he  mighty  proud  of  his  tail  in  the  ole  times. 

Well,  Brer  Rabbit  he  do  his  best,  and  he  just  burn  the  wind  through 
the  woods;  but  Brer  Dog  he  just  gwine  on  the  jump,  "Bow  wow, 
bow  wow!" 

Presently  Brer  Dog  he  see  Brer  Rabbit,  and  he  think  he  got  him; 
and  Brer  Dog  he  open  his  mouth  and  jump  for  Brer  Rabbit,  and 
Brer  Dog  he  just  bite  Brer  Rabbit's  fine  tail  plum  off. 

That  how  come  Brer  Ral)bit  have  such  little  no  count  tail  these 

yer  times;  and  Brer  Dog  he  that  mad  with  ole  Brer  Rabbit  'case  he 

saw  his  mouth,  when  he  run  Brer  Rabbit  through  the  woods,  he  still 

holler,  "Bow  wow,  bow  wow!"  and  you  take  noticement  how,  when 

Brer  Rabbit  hear  Brer  Dog  say  that.  Brer  Rabbit  he  just  pick  up  his 

fof)ts  and  fly,  'case  Brer  Rabbit  done  disremcmber  how  he  done  saw 

Brer  Dog's  mouth. 

E.  M.  B. 

2.     liRo'    RAHMIT    AN'    DK    \VATI:R-MILLI0NS 

Bro'  Rabbit  an'  Bro'  ("oon  dcy  go  inter  cohoot  full  ter  plant  dey 
crap  tergedder  an'  fuh  ter  stan'  by  one  annudder  ef  trubble  cum  erlong. 
One  day  dey  wus  wurkin'  in  dey  water-million  patch,  en  dey  bofe 
see  Colonel  Tiger  come  er  creepin'  roun'  de  fence,  lookin'  hungry 
crnough  fuh  ter  cat  dem  bofe.     Bro'  Coon  he  goes  back  on  Bro'  Rabbit, 


r-  Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  1 27 

en  climb  up  er  tree,  an  lefe  he  fren  fuh  ter  face  trubble  by  hesef. 
Bro'  Rabbit  carnt  climl),  an'  he  so  scard  dat  he  teef  rattle;  but  he 
grab  he  spade  an'  meek  haste  an'  dig  two  holes,  an'  bury  two  uf  he 
biggest  water-millions  in  dem,  &  kiver  em  wif  yearth,  an'  pat  dem 
smoove  wid  he  spade:  he  wurk  so  hard  dat  by  de  time  Colonel  Tiger 
git  ter  de  gate,  he  is  dun  got  annudder  hole  dug  most  deep  ernuf  fuh 
one  more. 

Colonel  Tiger  stan'  dar  —  in  he  fine  stripe  suit  —  watchin'  him,  an' 
he  mity  curious.  Colonel  Tiger  am:  when  he  see  dem  two  graves  dar, 
an'  Bro'  Rabbit  a-makin  one  more,  he  done  know  what  ter  think. 

So  finely  he  talk  out,  an'  ax  him.  "Bro'  Rabbit,"  he  ax,  "what's 
dat  yo  is  doin'  dar?"  Bro'  Rabbit  he  mity  scared,  but  he  hold  he 
heart  bold,  an'  he  meek  answer  out  loud  an'  brash  like  he  wus  mad. 
"/is  biiryin'  defalks  what  I  is  dun  kilt,"  he  say,  slappin'  de  grabes  wid 
he  spade.  "Dat  Bro'  Lion,  dat  Bro'  Bear;  an'  I'se  got  er  Coon  treed 
dar  what  I'se  dun  cungered,  but  I  ain't  kilt  him  yit.  Who  is  you 
axin'  me  questions,  anyhow?  I  ain't  got  time  ter  turn  roun'  ter  look 
at  yer;  but  yer  is  so  brash,  ef  yer'll  wait  'twell  I  gits  fru,  I'll  cum  out 
dar  an'  cunger  yo'  an'  kill  yo  too,  'case  I  wants  free  more  fools  fuh 
ter  finish  out  dis  row." 

Colonel  Tiger  wus  dat  scared,  he  jes  burn  de  wind,  gittin'  erway 
frum  dat  dangus-talkin'  man. 

Atter  he  gone,  Bro'  Coon  he  cum  down  he  tree,  en  meek  er  great 
miration  ober  Bro'  Rabbit;  but  Bro'  Rabbit  he  say,  "I  done  want 
none  er  yer  talk;  yo  ain't  no  true  fren',  en  done  keep  ter  de  'greemint, 
so  I'se  gwine  ter  vide  de  crap  an'  break  up." 

Bro'  Coon  he  say,  "How  yo  gwineter  vide?"  An'  Bro'  Rabbii  hu 
meek  answer,  en  say,  "You  is  de  biggest  Bro'  Coon,  so  yo  kin  teck  all 
dat  >er  kin  tote  erway.  I  is  de  littlest,  so  I'se  got  ter  teck  what  is  lef 
bi'hinc."  Bro'  Coon  kin  jes  lif  one  leetle  water-million  wif  er  rotten 
end;  an'  wid  dat  he  hafter  go  —  'case  Bro'  Rabbit  talk  so  big,  he  was 
scaid  of  him,  cnnvhow,  en  glad  fuh  ter  git  erwa\'. 

R.  U.  L. 

3.     IIKO'    FOX    A.N'    de    foolish    JAV-IJIKI) 

One  day  Bro'  Fox  bin  eatin'  sum  Turkey,  an'  he  git  er  bone  stuck  in 
he  l(K>ft  (tooth)  what  meek  it  mighty  hot,  an'  achey.  Hit  hurl  so 
bad  he  carnt  cat  nuffin  fur  four  days,  so  he  go  ter  Mr.  Jay-biril  an' 
ax  him  fur  ter  pull  de  piece  ob  bone  out.  Mr.  Ja\-bird  ergree  fur 
ter  pull  hit  out;  but  de  Jay-bird  wus  mighty  cute  an  sceamy  bird, 
he  wus  jealous  uf  Mr.  Mockin'-bird,  'case  he  wus  de  finest  singer,  an' 
he  hate  him  'case  he  mcxk  liiiii.  lb-  meek  er  j)Ian  in  he  mine  fur  ter 
get  Bro'  I"ox  ter  kill  Mr.  Mockin'-bird,  an'  all  he  fambly  so  he  ergree 
fur  ter  pull  out  de  |)iece  ob  bone;  but  he  meek  Bro'  I'ox  wait  er  long 

VOL.  XXV. — NO.  96. — 9 


128  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

time  fust,  whilst  he  tell  him  how  dangous  iiit  wus  tcr  chaw  big  bones; 
den  when  Bro'  Fox  git  mighty  impashunt,  he  hop  on  he  jaw,  an'  peck 
de  piece  ob  bone  out  he  tooft.     Bro'  Fox  mighty  releabed. 

"Dere  Bro'  Fox!"  he  say,  "dat  all  right.  Now  I'se  guyen  ter  gib 
yo'  some  good  advice:  you  eat  leetle  bones  atter  dis.  If  yer  has  er 
mine  ter,  jest  es  soon  es  hit  git  dark,  I'se  guyen  ter  show  yer  whar 
Mr.  Mockin'-bird  an'  he  hole  fambly  roost,  an'  den  yer  kin  cotch  'im, 
an'  taste  meat  what  am  sweet." 

An'  wid  dat  he  argufy  'bout  how  good  bird-bones  taste,  'twel  Bro* 
Fox  mouf  jest  water;  den  he  ax,  "Yer  feels  er  heap  better,  doan  yer, 
Bro'  Fox?"  an'  Bro'  Fox  he  say,  sorter  anxus-like,  "  I'se  'fraid  yo' 
is  dun  ief  er  leetle  piece  ob  dat  bone  in  dar  yit.  I  wish  yo'  wuld  jest 
step  in  ergin  an'  look,  Bro'  Jay-bird." 

Den,  when  Mr.  Jay-bird  hop  on  he  jaw,  fur  ter  look  in  he  tooft,  Bro' 
Fox  snap  he  mouf  too  an'  cotch  him,  an'  meek  remarkt,  fru  he  teetf, 
"Yes,  Mr.  Jay-bird,  I  does  feel  er  heap  better;- 1  feels  so  much  better 
dat  I  is  hongry,  an'  yer  dun  telt  me  so  much  erbout  de  fine  fiabor  ob 
de  leetle  bones,  dat  I  carnt  wait  twel  night  cum,  fur  ter  try  dem!" 

An'  wid  dat  he  chaw  him  up,  an'  say  de  flabor  were  berry  fine  in- 
deedy. 

When  yer  ha' r gins  ivij  er  rascal  fer  ter  harm  yer  frens,  yo  better  meek 
shore  yo'  is  in  a  safe  place  yosef  erf  ore  yer  bergins  ter  meek  yer  ergreemint. 

E.  H.  L. 

4.     WHEN    BRER    RABBIT    HELP    BRER    TERAPIN 

In  the  old  days  Brer  Wolf  he  have  a  mighty  grudge  against  Brer 
Terapin,  Brer  Wolf  do;  and  one  day  Brer  Wolf  come  up  with  old  Brer 
Terapin  in  the  woods;  and  he  say,  Brer  Wolf  do,  how  he  just  going  to 
make  a  end  of  Old  Brer  Terapin. 

But  Brer  Terapin  he  just  draw  in  his  foots  and  shut  the  door;  and 
he  draw  in  his  arms  and  shut  the  door;  and  then  if  the  old  man 
don'  bodaciously  draw  in  his  head  and  shut  the  door  right  in  Brer 
Wolf's  face. 

That  make  ole  Brer  Wolf  mighty  angry,  sure  it  natcrly  do;  but  he 
bound  he  ain'  going  to  be  outdone  that  er  way,  and  he  study  'bout 
how  he  going  smash  Brer  Terapin's  house  in;  but  there  ain'  no  rock 
there,  and  he  feared  to  leave  the  ole  man,  'case  he  know  direckly  he 
leave  him  the  ole  chap  going  open  the  doors  of  his  house  and  tote 
hisself  off. 

Well,  wiiilc  Brer  Wolf  study  'bout  it,  here  come  Brer  Rabbit;  but 
he  make  like  he  don'  see  Brer  Wolf,  'case  they  ain'  the  bestest  of 
friends  in  them  days,  Brer  Wolf  and  Brer  Rabbit  ain',  no,  that  they 
ain'. 

But  Brer  Wolf  he  call  out,  he  do,  "O  Brer  Rabbit,  Brer  Rabbit, 


Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  129 

come  here!"  So  Brer  Rabbit  he  draw  up,  and  he  see  Old  Brer  Tera- 
pin's  house  with  the  doors  all  shut;  and  he  say,  "Morning,  Brer 
Terapin!"  but  Brer  Terapin  ne\er  crack  his  door;  so  Brer  Wolf 
say,  he  do,  "  Brer  Rabbit,  you  stay  here  and  watch  the  ole  man,  while 
I  go  and  fotch  a  rock  to  smash  his  house!"  and  Brer  Wolf  he  take 
hisself  off. 

Directly  Brer  Wolf  gone,  ole  Brer  Terapin  he  open  his  door  and 
peak  out.  \ow.  Brer  Rabbit  and  Brer  Tarapin  was  the  best  friends 
in  the  ole  time;  and  Brer  Rabbit,  he  say,  he  do,  "Now,  Brer  Terapin, 
Brer  Wolf  done  gone  for  to  tote  a  rock  to  smash  your  house;"  and 
Brer  Terapin  say  he  going  move  on. 

Then  Brer  Rabbit  know  if  Brer  Wolf  come  back  and  find  he  let 
Brer  Terapin  make  ofT  with  his  house.  Brer  Wolf  going  fault  hisself; 
and  Brer  Wolf  are  a  strong  man,  and  he  are  a  bad  man;  and  poor  old 
Brer  Rabbit  he  take  his  hindermost  hand  and  he  scratch  his  head,  and 
clip  off  right  smart.     Brer  Rabbit  was  a  peart  man  them  days. 

Directly  he  come  u\)  with  old  Sis  Cow,  and  he  say,  "Howdy,  Sis 
Cow?  Is  you  got  a  tick  you  could  lend  out  to  >'Our  friends?"  and  he 
take  a  tick  and  tote  it  back,  and  put  it  on  the  rock  just  where  Brer 
Terapin  was. 

Presently  here  come  Brer  Wolf  back,  totin'  a  big  rock;  and  he 
see  Brer  Rabbit  just  tearing  his  hair  and  faning  his  hands,  and 
crying,  "Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!  I'se  feared  of  my  power,  I'se  feared 
of  my  power!"  but  Brer  Wolf  he  say,  "Where  old  man  Tcraj^in  gone 
wilii  iiis  house?  I  done  told  you  to  watch."  But  Brer  Rabbit  he 
only  cr\-  the  more,  and  he  say,  "That  what  I  clone  tell  you,  don't  you 
see  what  my  power  done  done?  There  all  what  left  of  poor  ole  Brer 
Terapin  ri^hi  there."  And  Brer  Rabbit  he  look  that  sorrowful-like, 
he  near  'bout  broke  down,  and  he  j^oint  to  the  cow-lick. 

But  Brer  Wc^lf  he  done  li\e  on  the  plantation  with  Brer  Rabbit  many 
a  day;  and  Brer  Wolf  lu-  say,  "Quit  \()ur  fooling,  ok*  man.  \n\\  done 
turn  Brer  Terapin  loose,  and  I  just  going  to  use  this  yer  rock  to  smash 
your  head."  Then  Brer  Rabbit  he  make  haste  to  make  out  to  Brer 
Wolf  how  that  little  chap  surely  are  all  what's  left  of  poor  old  Brer 
Terapin. 

And  Brer  Ral)l)it  he  make  out  how  tlic  power  an-  in  his  left  e\e  to 
make  a  big  man  perish  away;  and  Brer  K.iMiit  he  'low  liow  he  just 
happen  to  strike  his  left  eye  on  his  old  friiiid  Brer  ri.'ra|)in,  and  din-etly 
he  get  smaller  and  smaller,  twell  that  all  there  be  left  of  the  poor  old 
man.  WIuii  I'ltr  Rabbit  sa\'  that,  he  tinii  .iiid  cut  his  left  eye  sharp 
at  Iker  Wolf,  iker  Rabbit  do. 

Brer  Wolf  he  just  look  once  on  the  little  tick,  uid  he  sa\-,  "Don' 
look  at  me,  Brer  Rabbit  I  Don'  look  at  luel"  .md  Bier  Wolf  he  strike 
out,  and  he  ju^t  burn  the  wind  for  tin-  woods. 


130  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Then  Brer  Rabbit  he  cHp  it  off  down  the  road  twell  he  come  up 
with  old  Brer  Terapin;  and  they  strike  a  fire,  and  make  a  good  pot 
of  coffee,  and  talk  it  over. 

E.  M.  B. 


5.     WHEN    BRER    'POSSUM    ATTEND   MISS    FOX  S    HOUSE-PARTY 

Once  long  before  the  war,  when  times  was  good,  Miss  Fox  she  set 
out  for  to  give  a  house-party,  Miss  Fox  did. 

And  Miss  Fox  she  'low  she  ain'  going  invite  the  lastest  person  to  her 
house-party  'cepting  the  quality;  and  when  Brer  Fox  he  just  mention 
Brer  'Possum's  name,  Miss  Fox  she  rare  and  charge.  Miss  Fox  do. 
She  give  it  to  Brer  Fox,  and  she  'low  how  she  don'  invite  no  poor  white 
trash  to  her  house-party;  and  she  'low,  Miss  Fox  do,  how  Brer  Fox 
must  set  his  mind  on  giving  a  tacky  party. 

Brer  Fox  he  'low  how  Brer  'Possum  ain'  no  poor  white  trash;  but 
Miss  Fox  she  'clare  Brer  'Possum  ain'  no  more  than  a  half-strainer, 
and  so  Miss  Fox  she  don'  invite  Brer  'Possum  to  her  house-party. 

Well,  Brer  'Possum  he  feel  mighty  broke  up  when  he  hear  all  the  other 
creeters  talking  about  the  house-party,  'case  Brer  'Possum  he  have 
plenty  money.  Brer  'Possum  are  a  mighty  shifty  man,  and  always 
have  plenty  money. 

Well,  Brer  'Possum  he  tell  Brer  Rabbit  how  he  feel  'bout  Miss  Fox 
house-party;  and  he  ax  Brer  Rabbit,  Brer  'Possum  do,  why  he  don' 
be  invited. 

Brer  Rabbit  he  'low  it  all  because  Brer  'Possum  don'  hold  up  his 
head  and  wear  store  clothes;  and  Brer  Rabbit  he  advise  Brer  'Possum 
to  order  hisself  some  real  quality  clothes,  and  a  churn  hat,  and  go  to 
Miss  Fox  house-party;  and  he  'low,  Brer  Rabbit  do,  how  they  won't 
know  Brer  'Possum,  and  mistake  hisself  sure  for  some  man  from  the 
city. 

So  ole  Brer  'Possum  he  got  plenty  money,  and  he  go  to  the  city. 
Brer  'Possum  do;  and  he  order  just  a  quality  suit  of  clothes,  Brer 
'Possum  do;  and  he  go  to  the  barber,  and  get  hisself  shaved,  and  his 
hair  cut,  and  he  present  hisself  at  Miss  Fox  house-party. 

Well,  you  may  be  sure  Brer  'Possum  he  receive  flattering  attention, 
he  surely  did;  and  the  last  one  of  the  people  asking,  "Who  that  fine 
gentleman?"  "Who  that  city  gentleman?"  "Who  that  stinguished- 
looking  gentleman?"  and  Brer  Rabbit  he  make  hisself  forward  to 
introduce  Brer  'Possum  right  and  left,  "My  friend  Mr.  Potsum  from 
Augusta!"  That  old  Brer  Rabbit  he  done  say  "Potsum,"  'case  endur- 
ing they  find  him  out,  that  old  Brer  Rabbit  he  going  swear  and  kiss 
the  book  he  done  say  'possum,  all  the  time.  That  just  exactly  what 
that  old  man  Rabbit  going  to  do. 

But,  Lord  bless  you  !  they  all  that  taken  up  with  the  fine  gentleman, 


Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  131 

they  don'  spicion  hisself ;  and  he  pass  a  mighty  proudful  evening,  Brer 
'Possum  do. 

But  when  it  come  retiring-time,  and  the  gentlemans  all  get  their 
candles,  and  'scorted  to  their  rooms,  Brer  'Possum  he  look  at  the 
white  bed,  and  he  look  all  'bout  the  room,  and  he  feel  powerful  un- 
comfortable, Brer  'Possum  do,  'case  Brer  'Possum  he  never  sleep  in  a 
bed  in  all  his  born  days.     Brer  'Possum  he  just  can't  sleep  in  a  bed. 

The  poor  old  man  he  walk  round  the  room,  and  round  the  room, 
twell  the  house  get  asleep;  and  he  take  off  all  his  fine  clothes,  and  he 
open  the  door  softly,  and  step  out  all  to  hisself,  he  powerful  tired;  and 
he  just  climb  a  tree  what  stand  by  the  porch,  and  hang  hisself  off 
by  his  tail  and  fall  asleep. 

In  the  morning,  when  Miss  Fox  get  up  and  open  the  door,  she  see 
Brer  'Possum  hanging  from  the  limb.  She  that  astonished  she  can't 
believe  her  eyes;  but  Miss  Fox  know  a  fine  fat  'possum  when  she  see 
him,  she  surely  do. 

Well,  Miss  Fox  she  cotch  hold  of  Brer  'Possum  and  kill  him,  and 
dress  him,  and  serve  him  up  on  the  breakfast-table;  and  the  guests 
they  compliment  Miss  Fox  on  her  fine  'Possum  breakfast;  but  when 
they  go  call  the  fine  gentleman  from  the  City,  they  just  find  his  fine 
clothes,  but  they  never  suspicion  where  he  done  gone,  twcU  many  day 
after,  when  old  Brer  Rabbit  he  done  let  the  secret  out. 

E.  M.  B. 

6.     HOW    BRER    FOX    DREAM    HE    EAT    BRER    'POSSUM 

In  the  old  times  Brer  'Possum  he  have  a  long,  wide,  bushy  tail  like 
Brer  Fox.  Well,  one  day  Brer  Rabbit  and  Brer  Fox  get  a  mighty 
honcin'  to  set  er  tooth  in  some  fresh  meat,  and  tiicy  both  start  off  for 
to  find  some,  and  directly  they  lind  Brtr  'Fossuin  up  a  black  t,Him- 
tree. 

Now,  in  them  times  Brer  Rabbit  he  can  climl)  \\v\\  as  any  other  of 
the  creatures,  'case  he  has  sharp  claws  like  a  cat;  and  he  don't  set 
down  to  nobody  on  climbing,  Brer  Rabbit  don't.  So  when  tlu'\-  find 
Brer  'Possum  way  up  in  tlu'  lo|)  of  the  gum-tree,  Brer  Rabbit  iu-  ji-st 
climb  uj)  after  Brer  'Possum,  Brer  R,il)bit  do;  and  jest  heron-  he 
reach  him,  Brer  'Possum  he  wind  his  tiiil  011  the  limb.  ;m'  hani;  wid  he 
hade  down,  an'  swing  hisself  out. 

Brer  Rabbit  he  standing  on  the  limb;  an'  he  reaih  out.  and  he 
grab  Brer  'Possum's  tail  nigh  the  slum|),  Brer  j<ai)l)it  do;  and  Brer 
'Possum  he  swing  hisself  out,  and  try  to  reach  another  limb  with  he 
hand;  and  every  lime  Brer  'Possum  swing  out.  Brer  Rabbit's  hand 
slip  a  little  on  Brer  'Possum's  tail;  and  next  time  Brer  'Possum  swing 
and  reach  out,  lirer  Rabbit  he  hand  slip  a  little  more,  twell  Brer  Rabbit 
he  (lone  skin  the  whole  of  Brer  'Possum's  tail;  an'  Brer  'Possum  fall 


132  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

to  the  ground,  where  Brer  Fox  done  wait  for  liini,  and  Brer  Fox  done 
ketch  him  and  kill  him;  but  since  that  day  Brer  'Possum  he  never 
have  no  hair  on  his  tail.  Then  Brer  Rabbit  he  come  down,  Brer 
Rabbit  did,  and  they  study  how's  der  bestest  and  soonest  way  to  cook 
Brer  'Possum,  'case  dey  both  jes  er  droolin'  for  some  fresh  meat. 

Brer  Fox  he  say  "he  take  Brer  'Possum  home  and  cook  him,"  and 
he  invite  Brer  Rabbit  to  come  and  dine  with  him.  Brer  Rabbit 
agrees  to  that,  so  Brer  Fox  he  takes  Brer  'Possum  home  and  he  fly 
round  to  beat  all,  Brer  Fox  do;  and  he  gets  some  nice  fat  bacon  and 
yams,  and  he  just  cooks  dat  'Possum  up  fine  and  brown. 

Then  Brer  Fox  he  get  mighty  tired,  and  he  say,  "I  'dare,  I  plum 
too  tired  out  to  eat.  I  don't  know  if  I  better  eat  that  'Possum  now, 
and  go  to  sleep  and  dream  about  him,  or  whether  I  better  go  to  sleep 
and  dream  about  him  first,  and  then  wake  up  and  eat  him;"  and  he 
lay  down  on  the  bed  to  study  a  minute,  and  first  thing  Brer  Fox 
knowed  he  fast  asleep. 

Directly  here  come  Brer  Rabbit,  he  knock  on  the  door,  but  he  ain't 
get  no  answer;  but  he  smell  dat  'Possum,  and  the  bacon  and  the 
yams,  and  the  sage,  and  he  most  'stracted  to  set  he  tooth  in  it.  He 
crack  the  door  softly,  and  he  find  Brer  Fox  fast  asleep  on  the  bed, 
an'  the  nice  dinner  all  smoking  hot  on  the  table. 

Brer  Rabbit  he  just  draw  up  and  set  to.  Brer  Rabbit  do.  He  eat 
one  hind-leg;  and  it  so  fine,  he  say  to  hisself  he  bound  ter  try  er  fore- 
leg, and  then  Brer  Rabbit  'low  he  bound  ter  try  the  other  hind-leg. 

Well,  sar,  dat  old  man  Rabbit  he  set  there  and  eat  twell  the  lastest 
mouthful  of  that  'Possum  done  gone. 

Then  he  just  turn  to  wonderin',  Brer  Rabbit  did,  what  Brer  Fox 
gwine  to  say  when  he  done  wake  up  and  find  the  bestest  bits  of  that 
'Possum  gone. 

Brer  Rabbit  he  find  hisself  in  er  right  delicate  situation,  and  was 
disturbed.  Brer  Rabbit  was;  but  he  say  to  hisself  he  gwine  fool  Brer 
Fox;  and  Brer  Rabbit  he  take  all  the  bones,  and  he  put  them  on  the 
floor  in  a  row  round  Brer  Fox's  head ;  and  he  take  the  marrow-grease, 
and  he  rub  it  softly  on  the  whiskers  round  Brer  Fox's  mouth;  then 
he  go  out  softly  and  close  the  door,  and  put  he  eye  to  the  key-hole. 

Directly  Brer  Fox  he  yawn  and  stretch  hisself  and  wake  up;  and 
couse  his  mind  turn  to  that  'Possum,  and  he  rise  up;  and  shorely  he 
most  powerful  astonished  when  he  see  the  dish  empty,  and  the  bones 
all  'bout  hisself  on  the  floor. 

Directly  here  come  Brer  Rabbit's  knock.  Brer  Fox  say,  "  Come  in ! " 
and  Brer  Rabbit  say,  "  Brer  Fox,  I  come  for  my  share  of  that  'Possum," 
Brer  Fox  say,  "  Fore  de  Lord,  Brer  Rabbit,  where  that  'Possum  gone?" 
and  he  fling  he  hand  at  the  bones  on  the  floor. 

Brer  Rabbit  he  snap  he  eye,  like  he  most  mighty  got  er  way  with; 


Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  133 

and  he  say,  "Brer  Fox,  I  heard  the  creatures  tell  heap  er  powerful 
hard  tales  on  yourself,  but  I  'clare,  I  never  think  you  treat  a  friend 
dis  yer  way." 

Then  Brer  Fox  he  swear  and  kiss  the  book  he  ain't  set  er  tooth  in 
that  'Possum.  Then  Brer  Rabbit  he  look  most  mighty  puzzled;  and 
at  last  he  say,  "Brer  Fox,  I  tell  you  what  you  done  done,  you  just 
eat  the  lastest  mouthful  of  that  'Possum  in  your  sleep."  Brer  Fox 
he  rare  and  charge,  and  swear  he  ain't  "even  got  the  taste  of  'Possum 
in  he  mouth."  Then  Brer  Rabbit  he  take  Brer  Fox  to  the  glass, 
and  make  Brer  Fox  look  at  hisself;  and  he  say,  Brer  Rabbit  did, 
"Bre  rFox,  how  come  all  that  fresh  marrow-grease  on  your  whiskers?" 
and  Brer  Fox  he  look  mighty  set  down  on;  and  he  say,  "Well,  all  I 
'low  dat  the  most  unsatisfying  'Possum  I  ever  set  er  tooth  in." 

E.  M.  B. 

7.   SUPERSTITION  OF  THE  GRAVEYARD  SNAKE  AND  R.\BBIT 

Ain't  I  nebber  tole  yer  'bout  dem  grabeyard  snakes?  Bite?  No, 
hit  don't  bite!  Hit's  black,  most  ginerelly,  wid  yaller  splotches  on 
he's  back, an'  he  lib  all  de  time  in  de  Cemetterry,  whar  hit  greab  an' 
moan.  Yer  see,  when  de  Debbel  temp  Eab,  an  got  her  an'  Adam  druv 
outen  de  guarden  ob  Eden,  he  wus  dat  tickled  ober  hit,  dat  he  laft, 
an'  he  laft,  'twel  he  split  hesef  in  two.  So  de  Sperit  part  ob  him  go 
roun'  now,  temptin'  folks  ter  sin,  an'  he'pin'  de  Hoodoos.  But  de 
body  part  ob  him  wus  turn  by  de  Lord  inter  dem  grabeyard  snakes 
what  libs  in  de  grabeyards  whar  dey  moans  all  de  time  ober  de  death 
what  dey  is  brung  inter  dis  world.  En,  honey,  ef  yer  kin  git  de  skin  uv 
one  uv  dem  snakes,  an'  put  hit  roun'  yo  waist,  whar  noboddy  see  hit, 
yer  will  conquer  yo  ennemys  sho:  ef  yer  greases  yo  hand  wid  de  grease 
ob  a  grabeyard  snake,  an'  steals  things,  nobody  will  see  yer,  an'  yer 
won't  git  found  out;  'case  Satan  is  'bleged  ter  stan'  by  folks  what  are 
greased  wid  he  own  grease.  Hoodoo  folks  is  mighty  fond  er  eatin' 
snakes,  'case  hit  makes  dem  wise  an'  cute;  but  dc>'  don't  dar  ter  eat 
er  grabeyard  snake,  'case  dey  ud  be  eatin'  de  Debbel  hesef,  an*  he 
coulfln't  he'p  cm  no  more.  Dey  am  a  heap  ob  tings  dat  snake-ile 
am  gf)od  ferdat  I  is  dun  disrermembered;  !)ut  I  knows  dis  fer  sarting: 
ef  yo  hates  a  pusson,  an'  yo  makes  dey  image  outen  dat  ile  mix  up 
wifl  flour  er  san',  an'  den  names  hit  atter  de  pusson  yo  hates,  an' 
bakes  de  image  good  by  de  open  fire,  yer  kan  meek  dat  pusson  niiser'ble, 
'case  yer  got  em  snake  Hoodoo'd,  an  dat's  de  wus  kine  ob  Hootloo. 
If  yer  stick  pins  in  dat  image,  de  pusson  what  yer  dun  name  it  alter 
'ill  hab  pains  an'  misery  in  de  same  place  on  di'in  es  whar  de  pins  goes 
in  de  image.  I  once  know'd  a  man  whal  wus  kill  clean  dead  'case 
dey  slick  pins  inler  de  image  ov  him,  in  de  place  whar  he  heart  wus, 
do  dat  wus  er  mistook,  yer  see. 


134  Journal  of  A  mertcan  Folk-Lore 

Grabeyard  rabbets?  Oh,  yessum!  Dem  is  de  rabbits  what  de 
grabeyard  snakes  charm  fer  ter  meek  em  stay  dar,  an'  keep  dem  cum- 
pany.  Dey  don't  do  no  harm,  an'  dey  left  hine-foot  'ill  bring  good 
luck,  shore;  but  ef  yer  want  Satan  ter  cum  right  down  an'  foller  yer, 
an'  he'p  yer  in  ebberry-ting,  yo  jes'  git  de  button  offen  er  grabeyard 
rattlesnake,  an'  sew  hit  up  wid  a  piece  ob  silver  in  er  leetle  red  flannel 
bag,  en  war  hit  on  yo  heart.  Why,  ef  yer  do  dat  way,  an'  seys  er  varse 
outen  de  Bible  backards,  at  twelve  er'clock  on  de  crossroads,  uf  er 
moonlight  night,  de  ole  Nick  'ill  cum  walkin'  up  ter  meet  yer,  mos' 
any  time  yer  calls  him.  No,  I  ain't  nebber  tried  hit  mysef,  'case  de 
smell  uf  brimstone  allers  meek  me  narvous;  an'  I  nebber  would  like 
ter  be  took  dat  er  way,  'jes  lik  er  'oman. 

E.  H.  L.  and  E.  M.  B. 


8.  WHY  MR.  OWL  can't  SING 

When  Mr.  Owl  was  young,  he  could  sing  to  beat  all  the  birds  in  the 
woods.  This  ole  man  what  you  see  flying  about  calling  "whoo, 
whoo!"  in  the  ole  time  he  could  sing  so  fine  that  he  teach  the  singing- 
school. 

In  them  days  Mr.  Owl  he  never  wander  round,  like  he  do  in  these 
yer  times,  'case  he  have  a  happy  home,  and  he  stay  home  with  his 
wife  and  chillens,  like  a  spectable  man. 

But  that  poor  ole  man  done  see  a  heap  of  trouble  in  he  time,  he 
shore  has;  and  it  all  come  along  of  that  trifling  no  count  Miss  Cuckoo, 
what  too  sorry  to  build  her  nest  fer  herself,  but  go  about  laying  her 
eggs  in  her  neighbors'  nests. 

In  the  old  time,  Mr.  and  Miss  Owl  they  belong  to  the  quality;  end 
they  have  a  shore  'nufT  quality  house,  not  like  these  little  houses 
what  you  see  these  yer  times,  what  secondary  people  live  in. 

One  night  Miss  Owl  she  go  out  to  pay  a  visit,  and  she  leave  Mr. 
Owl  at  home  to  mind  the  chillens;  but  directly  she  gone,  Mr.  Owl 
he  take  he  fiddle  under  he  arm,  and  go  oft'  to  he  singing-school. 
Then  that  trifling  no  count  Miss  Cuckoo  come  sailing  along  calling 
"Cuckoo,  cuckoo!"  and  she  leave  her  eggs  in  Miss  Owl's  fine  nest, 
and  then  she  go  sailing  off,  calling,  "  Cuckoo,  cuckoo ! " 

Now,  presently  Miss  Owl  she  come  home;  and  when  she  find  that 
egg  in  her  nest,  she  rare  end  charge  on  the  p(Jor  ole  man  to  beat  all; 
and  she  tell  him  she  never  live  with  him  no  more  twcU  he  tell  her  who 
lay  that  egg;  but  the  poor  ole  man  can't  tell  her,  'case  he  don't  know 
hisself.  But  Miss  Owl  she  be  mighty  proud-spirited;  and  what  she 
done  say,  she  done  say. 

So  the  ole  man  he  leave  he  fine  Ikjiiic,  and  he  go  wandering  through 
the  woods  looking  for  the  one  what  lay  that  egg  and  make  all  he 


Negro  Tales  from  Georgia  135 

trouble.  And  the  ole  man  he  that  sorrowful  he  can't  sing  no  more» 
but  jest  go  sailing  'bout,  asking,  "Whoo,  whoo!"  But  Mr.  Owl  he 
never  find  out  to  this  day  who  lay  that  egg,  and  so  Miss  Owl  never  live 
with  him  no  more;  but  he  keep  on  asking,  "Whoo,  whoo?"  And  now 
it  done  been  that  long,  the  poor  ole  man  plum  forgot  how  to  sing,  and 
he  don't  play  he  fiddle  no  more,  and  can't  say  nothing  but  "\Vhoo» 
whoo!" 

E.  M.  B. 

9.    THE   negro's    superstition    OF  THE   SPANISH   MOSS 

Long  time  ago  there  was  a  powerful  wicked  man.  He  was  that  sinful, 
that  Death  he  don't  have  the  heart  to  cut  him  off  in  his  sins,  'cepten* 
he  give  him  a  warning.  So  one  day  Death  he  appear  to  the  wicked 
man,  and  he  tell  him  how  that  day  week  he  g^\ine  come  for  him.  The 
wicked  man  he  that  frightened,  he  get  on  his  knees  and  beg  Death  to 
let  him  live  a  little  longer.  The  wicked  man  he  take  on,  and  he  beg, 
'twell  Death  he  promise  he  won't  come  for  him  'twcll  he  give  him  one 
more  warning. 

Well,  the  years  go  by,  but  the  wicked  man  he  grow  more  wicked; 
and  one  day  Death  he  appear  to  him  again,  and  Death  he  tell  the 
wicked  man  how  that  day  week  he  gwine  come  for  him;  but  the  wicked 
man  he  more  frightened  than  what  he  was  before;  and  he  get  on  his 
knees,  the  wicked  man  do,  and  beg  Death  to  let  him  live  a  little  longer; 
and  Death  he  promise  the  wicked  man  how  before  he  come  for  him  he 
gwine  send  him  a  token  what  he  can  see  or  what  he  can  hear. 

Well,  the  years  go  by;  and  the  wicked  man  he  get  a  powerful  old 
man,  —  he  deaf  and  blind,  and  he  jest  drag  hisself  about.  One  day 
Death  he  done  come  for  the  wicked  man  once  more,  but  the  wicked 
man  he  say  how  Death  done  promise  him  he  won't  come  for  him  twcll 
he  send  him  a  token  what  he  can  see  or  hear;  and  Death  he  say  he 
done  send  a  token  what  he  can  see.  Then  the  wicked  man  he  say 
how  he  can't  sec  no  token,  'cause  he  say  how  he  done  blind.  Then 
Death  he  say  how  he  done  send  a  token  what  he  can  hear.  But  the 
wicked  man  he  say  how  he  plum  deaf,  and  he  sa\-  how  he  can't  hear 
no  token;  and  he  beg  Death  that  hard  to  let  him  live,  that  Death 
he  get  plum  outdone  with  the  wicked  man.  .iiul  Death  he  jest  go  off 
and  leave  him  to  hisself.  And  the  wicked  man  he  jest  wander  about 
the  w(Kxls,  and  his  chillen  all  die,  and  his  friends  all  die.  Still  he  jest 
wander  about  the  wockIs.  lie  Mind,  and  he  can't  see;  and  he  deaf» 
and  he  can't  hear.  He  that  blind  he  can't  see  to  find  no  f(M)d;  and  he 
that  deaf  he  never  know  when  anybody  try  to  speak  to  him.  .And  the 
wicked  man  he  done  perish  away  twell  he  jest  a  shatldow  with  long 
h.iir.      Ills  h.iir  it   ^row  Ioniser  and   longer,  and   it   blow  in   the  wind; 


1^6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

and  still  he  can't  die,  'cause  Death  he  done  pass  him  by.  So  he  here 
to  wander  and  blow  about  in  the  woods,  and  he  perish  away  twell  all 
yo  can  see  is  his  powerful  long  hair  blowing  all  'bout  the  trees;  and 
his  hair  it  done  blow  about  the  trees  twell  it  done  grow  fast,  and  now 
yo  all  folks  done  calls  it  Spanish  Moss. 

E.  M.  B. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  137 

SONGS   AND    RHYMES   FROM   THE  SOUTH 

BY    E.    C.    PERROW 

The  region  of  the  southern  Appalachian  Mountains,  embracing 
the  southwestern  portion  of  Virginia,  eastern  Kentuck>',  western 
North  CaroHna,  East  Tennessee,  and  the  northern  portions  of  Georgia 
and  Alabama,  constitutes  a  country  which,  though  di\ided  among 
several  States,  is  indeed  a  unit  with  regard  both  to  the  country  and 
to  the  character  of  its  people.  The  relative  inaccessibility  of  the 
countr>',  as  compared  with  the  surrounding  territory,  has  until  very 
recently  kept  back  the  tide  of  progress,  which,  swecjjing  around  this 
region,  has  shut  up  there  a  strange  survival  of  a  civilization  of  three 
hundred  >ears  ago. 

The  most  striking  thing  to  be  observed  about  the  Southern  people 
to-day  is,  I  think,  their  extreme  conservatism  with  regard  to  their 
customs,  their  manners,  and  their  habits  of  thought;  for  the  Southern 
people  brought  with  them  from  Europe  many  Middle-Age  traditions 
which  their  manner  of  life  has  tended  to  conserve.  Their  settlement 
in  the  plain  countr\',  on  large  and  comparatively  isolated  plantations, 
the  coming-in  of  the  slave  relation  (essentialU-  feudal  in  its  nature),  and 
the  complete  absence  of  immigration  during  recent  years,  ha\e  all 
tended  to  keep  alive  a  form  of  civilization  long  outgrown  b\-  other 
di\  isions  of  the  country. 

In  the  mountain  region  to  which  I  have  referred  the  conditions 
have  been  especially  such  as  might  be  expected  to  preserve  primitive 
ideals.  At  an  early  date  after  the  settlement  of  eastern  \'irginia 
and  North  Carolina  the  more  adventurous  spirits  began  to  thread  their 
way  through  the  mountain-defiles  of  what  was  then  the  unknown 
West,  and  to  build  their  cabins  along  the  creeks  that  broke  from  tiiat 
labyrinth  of  mountain  and  forest.  They  were  rough;  but  many  of 
them  were  worthy,  honest-hearted  people.  Among  them  were  not  a 
few  Scotch-Irish,  who  brought  with  them,  besides  their  Scottish  names 
and  many  Scottish  words,  thiir  native  sturdiness  of  character  and 
love  of  liberty.  Others  there  were,  no  doubt,  of  more  (juestionable 
condition,  —  men  who  had  been  outlawed  in  \irginia  and  .North 
Carolina  and  had  sought  refuge  in  these  fastnesses;  men  who  loved 
fighting  better  than  work,  and  freedom  better  than  the  restraints  of 
the  law. 

Since  their  settlement  in  this  region,  there  have  Ix'cn  few  enough 
influences  brought  to  bear  to  keep  this  isolated  people  in  line  with 
the  growth  of  the  outside  world.  Eor  a  long  time  commerce  left  the 
territory    unexploitt-d :  "Wh.it    sholde    it    lian    avayled    to    wcrreve? 


138  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Thcr  lay  no  profit,  ther  was  no  richesse."  The  rude  log  cabin  of  the 
mountaineer,  with  its  stone-stick-and-mud  chimney;  the  bit  of  truck 
garden  near  the  house,  tilled  by  the  women-folk;  the  hillside,  with  its 
scant  cover  of  Indian-corn,  with  now  and  then  a  creek-bottom  in  which 
weed  and  crop  struggle  on  equal  terms  for  the  mastery;  the  cold,  clear 
limestone  water  breaking  from  the  foot  of  the  ridges;  the  noisy  trout 
stream,  now  clear  as  glass,  now  swollen  by  the  almost  daily  thunder- 
storm ;  the  bold  knobs  rising  steep  from  the  valleys  and  covered  with 
blackberries  or  huckleberries;  and  in  the  background  wave  after  wave 
of  mountain  forest,  with  its  squirrel,  wild  geese,  'possum,  coon, 
"painter,"  rattlesnakes,  and  an  occasional  bear,  —  these  constituted 
the  wealth  of  the  country.  Of  course,  the  summer-resort  found  its 
place  among  us.  Thither  come,  summer  after  summer,  the  "quality" 
to  drink  the  far-famed  mineral  waters.  A  few  are  momentarily 
interested  in  the  dialect  and  habits  of  the  people,  and  some  return  to 
the  outside  world  to  write  stories  of  the  mountains  more  or  less  true 
to  the  characters  with  which  they  deal.^  But  such  visitors  leave  no 
impression  on  the  people.  Railroads  have  forced  their  way  through 
these  regions,  but  their  influences  have  touched  the  people  only 
superficially  —  given  them  something  to  sing  about,  or  possibly 
caused  some  of  those  living  near  the  stations  to  take  up  the  custom  of 
wearing  collars  instead  of  the  standard  red  handkerchief.  The  man 
back  in  the  ridges,  however,  they  have  left  unchanged. 

The  dialect  of  this  people  marks  them  as  belonging  to  another  age. 
Uninfluenced  by  books,  the  language  has  developed  according  to  its 
own  sweet  will,  so  that  certain  forms  have  become  standard  alike  for 
the  unlettered  and  the  better  educated.  Here  holp  is  the  preterite 
for  help,  sont  for  sent,  jotch  {or  J  etch,  dove  for  dive,  crope  for  creep,  drug 
for  drag,  seen  for  see  (sometimes  see,  cf.  Gower's  sigh),  taken  for  take. 
Many  old  forms  persist.     Many  old  words  appear,  such  as,  lay  (verb 

>  The  stories  of  Craddock  are  untrue  as  to  dialect,  and  show,  I  think,  an  over-ideal- 
ization of  character.  Her  work  has  been,  though,  of  great  value  in  awakening  an  interest 
in  the  country  of  which  she  writes.  Moonshining,  of  which  Craddock  made  so  much  in 
her  stories,  has  now  about  ceased  in  these  mountains.  1 1  is  less  risky  to  buy  cheap  ' '  rot-gut 
from  the  licensed  purveyors  in  Middlesboro,  Ky.,  although  for  the  consumer  it  is  much  less 
wholesome  than  the  purer  moonshine.  The  novels  of  Fox  are  interesting;  but  to  me,  at 
least,  the  atmosphere  is  far  from  convincing.  The  pictures  drawn  by  Opie  Reed  are,  I 
think,  much  nearer  the  truth.  Better  still  are  the  sketches  of  Charles  Forster  Smith 
(Nashville,  1908) ;  though  both  he  and  Craddock  are  wrong,  I  think,  in  what  they  say  about 
the  sadness  of  the  women.  Serious  they  are  always,  but  to  call  their  lives  unhappy  is  a 
kind  of  pathetic  fallacy.  Their  lot  is  simple,  but  they  love  their  homes  and  even  the 
monotony  of  their  daily  lives.  The  best  single  article  I  have  seen  about  these  people  is 
that  by  Adeline  Moffett  (Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  iv,  p.  314).  For  interesting 
lists  of  dialect  words,  see  Professor  Smith's  articles  in  Transactions  of  the  American 
Philological  Association  for  1883  and  1886,  and  in  The  Southern  Bivouac  for  November, 
1885.  Many  interesting  words  have  also  been  reported  to  Dialect  Notes  from  various 
parts  of  the  South,  most  of  which  are  current  in  East  Tennessee. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  139 

wager),  start-naked,  sned,  tarn  {teach),  find  (furnish),  outfavor  (to  be 
better  looking  than),  frail  (thrash),  ferninst  (apparently  a  corruption 
of  anent),  pidgin  (a  small  wooden  vessel  with  one  handle),  noggin  (such 
a  vessel  with  no  handle),  poke-supper  (at  which  the  food  is  served  from 
pokes),  buck  (to  bend),  smidgin,  and  hobberod  (cf.  AS.  hobbe). 

The  idea  of  compounding  words  is  still  alive  among  this  people. 
We  hear  stove-room  (for  kitchen),  undder-man,  home-house,  and  engineer- 
man.  Suffixes  are  still  alive:  we  hear  such  formations  as  pushency, 
bothcrment,  and  even  footback. 

There  are  some  peculiar  words  and  usages.  Several  means  "a  large 
number:"  "There  are  several  blackberries  this  year."  Thcmirs  is 
equivalent  to  young  chickens.  When  one  is  proficient  in  anything,  he 
is  said  to  be  a  cat  on  that  thing:  "She  is  a  cat  on  bread."  Proud 
means  happy.  Ficety  is  an  adjective  applied  to  one  who  is  "too  big 
for  his  breeches." 

The  pronunciation  seems  to  be  old.  Oi  has  invariably  the  older 
sound  of  ai  in  aisle;  so  in  roil,  poison,  coil  [kwail],  etc.  The  diphthong 
ou  has,  not  the  later  sound  of  a^  plus  uu  (as  in  the  speech  of  the  Vir- 
ginians and  in  what  I  take  to  be  the  speech  of  the  Englishman),  but 
the  older  sound  of  a  plus  uu,  with  usually  another  vowel  introduced 
before,  making  a  triphthong  e  plus  a  yAxxs  u.  Again,  the  diphthong 
represented  in  such  words  as  light,  wife,  wipe,  by  the  spelling  i,  has 
not,  as  in  the  speech  of  the  Virginians  and  in  that  of  the  Englishmen 
(cf.  Murray's  Dictionary),  the  sound  a  plus  i,  but  the  older  a  plus  /.- 

'  ^  =  vowel  in  bul. 

*  In  the  dialect  of  my  own  family  (Piedmont,  V'a.)  the  spelling  au,  ow,  is  pronounced 
a  plus  u  in  an  unclosed  syllable,  before  a  voiced  consonant,  and  before  /,  m,  n,  and  r;  so, 
now  [nau\,  thou,  loud,  mouth  (verb),  gouge,  foul,  sound,  town,  our,  tousle,  souse  (verb).  But 
before  a  voiceless  consonant  the  spelling  au,  ow,  is  pronounced  as  y  plus  u;  so,  louse  [huse] 
(conltaat  lousy) ,  lout  (contrast /owti).  mouth  (contrast  the  verb).  The  diphthong  represented 
by  the  sp«'lling  i,  y,  is  pronounced  a  i)lus  i  in  unclosed  syllables,  before  voiced  consonants, 
and  Ijcforc  /,  m,  «,  and  r;  so,  tribe  [traib],  ride,  writhe,  "  Tige,"  oblige,  mile,  time,  wine,  wire, 
wise,  rive.  But  before  voiceless  consonants  the  pronunciation  is  »  plus  i;  so.  wife  [w^ife] 
(contrast  wives),  like,  wipe,  vise  and  rice,  site,  "Smythe."  These  rules  hold  also  for  New 
England,  as  far  as  I  can  judge.  Sweet  represents  the  first  element  of  the  s|x<lling  au,  ow, 
as  Ix'ing  in  modern  English  the  low-mixed-wide,  which  is  probably  the  s<^>und  1  hear  in 
the  Virginia  hnu\e  [hfus].  The  Flnglishman,  it  seems  to  me,  has  let  his  (ti|)hth()ng  slip 
forward  for  practically  all  the  words  spi-lled  au,  ow.  The  same  tendency  is  obs<Tvable 
in  eastern  Virginia,  when-  one  hears  cow  [kju\,  our  [fu^],  and  the  plural  houses  [h^uzez\. 
I  think  this  is  l>ecausc  eastern  Virginia  has  been  more  closely  in  touch  with  the  mother 
country  and  the  developments  there.  But  in  Tennessee,  and  in  all  that  part  of  the  South 
which  has  not  b«'en  in  constant  intercour.se  with  the  mother  country,  all  the  au,  ow,  words 
are  pronounced  with  a  dii)hthong  made  up  of  the  mid-back-wide  plus  the  high-back-wide- 
round.  (It  must  bo  remeniljered  that  these  sounds,  both  in  \Mrginiu  and  Tenncss<T,  ar* 
often  moflified  by  the  introduction  l>efore  them  of  an  e  sound,  the  mid-fronl-narrow:  wi  that 
with  many  we  have  the  triphthongs,  [eau]  in  Tenne»s<>e,  and  |<*.»nl  in  \'irginia.)  Murray's 
Dictionary  records  that  in  England  the  diphthong  representetl  by  the  Hp<-lling  •',  y,  is  in 
almost  all  English  W()r<ls  the  mixed  vowel  plus  tin-  high-fronl-nomrw:  so.  limr  [l^im].  etc. 


140  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Further,  the  r,  now  reduced  to  a  mere  vocal  iiuirniur  in  the  standard 
pronunciation  of  the  English,  is  heard  here  with  all  the  snarl  that  it 
could  have  possessed  in  the  time  of  Ben  Jonson.^ 

Certain  customs,  too,  mark  this  people  as  of  another  age.  The 
practice  of  giving  nicknames  is  universal  among  them.  No  boy  grows 
up  without  being  called  by  something  other  than  the  name  his  parents 
gave  him.  Sometimes  the  nickname  of  the  father  will  become  a 
patronymic,  and  serve  as  a  surname  for  the  children.  Some  pecu- 
liarity of  personal  appearance,  speech,  or  habit,  or  some  action  in  which 
the  man  has  been  involved,  usually  serves  as  a  basis  for  the  nickname. 

The  custom  of  feasting  at  funerals  still  obtains.  When  a  death 
occurs,  all  the  neighborhood  gather  at  the  house  of  the  deceased. 
There  they  "sit  up"  with  the  body  day  and  night  for  several  days, 
and  eat  the  "funeral  baked  meats"  that  the  family  of  the  departed 
one  are  expected  to  prepare. 

The  people  are  for  the  most  part  rather  superstitious.  Almost 
every  affair  of  life  is  regulated  in  accordance  with  the  sign  of  the 
moon.  Scarcely  any  one  will  dig  a  well  without  consulting  a  water- 
witch,  who  with  his  peach-tree  fork,  together  with  a  good  supply  of 
native  judgment,  usually  succeeds  in  locating  a  stream.  The  belief 
in  "hants"  is  universal  here.  I  know  one  man  who,  professing  to 
communicate  with  the  dead,  keeps  the  whole  neighborhood  in  terror. 
Old  women  gather  "yarbs"  and  practise  medicine.  Charms  arc  used  to 
heal  diseases  in  man  and  beast,  and  sick  children  are  brought  many 
miles  to  be  breathed  upon  by  a  seventh  son  or  by  one  who  has  never 
seen  his  father. 

A  remarkable  degree  of  honesty  obtains  among  the  mountain  folk. 
I  was  among  them  for  over  twenty  years,  and  yet  I  never  heard  of  a 
burglary  in  the  county  in  which  I  lived.  Indeed,  I  heard  of  very 
little  stealing.  People  do  not  lock  their  corn-cribs  or  chicken-houses. 
Boats  on  the  river  are  common  property.  Any  one  may  use  a  boat, 
but  he  is  expected  to  bring  it  back  to  the  place  from  which  he  took  it. 
I  had  a  neighbor  who  was  sent  to  jail  for  a  term  as  a  punishment  for 
destroying  a  "neighbor's  landmark."  The  jailer  allowed  him  to 
return  home  on  Saturday  night  and  spend  Sunday  with  his  family. 
On  Monday  morning  he  was  always  promptly  back  at  his  work.  He 
never  thought  of  running  away.  There  is  maintained,  too,  a  very 
high  standard  of  sexual  relations.  Now  and  then  there  are  relations 
of  this  kind  between  young  folk;  but  it  is  almost  invariably  the  out- 
come of  a  pure  and  genuine  love,  and  the  boy  almost  invariably  stands 
by  the  girl  and  marries  her.  No  one  thinks  less  of  either  therefor; 
and  the  child  of  such  a  relation,  even  though  born  out  of  wedlock,  is 

'  For  an  excellent  treatment  of  the  southern  r,  sec  the  Louisiana  State  University 
Bulletin,  F"cbruary,  1910. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  141 

never  made  to  feel  that  there  is  any  stain  on  his  name.  Should  the 
boy  fail  to  stand  by  the  girl,  he  would  have  to  choose  "Texas  or  hell," 
the  choice  being  forced  both  by  public  sentiment  and  the  accuracy  of 
what  rifles  the  girl's  family  could  put  in  the  field. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  survivals  is  the  mountaineer's  idea  of 
law.  His  conception  is  pre-eminently  the  Germanic.  With  him  it  is 
not  an  affair  of  the  State,  such  as  may  be  modified  by  legislators  in 
distant  Nashville:  it  is  something  personal,  something  Vjelonging  to 
his  family,  a  heritage  that  cannot  be  alienated;  and  the  guaranty  of 
these  unwritten  rights  is  neither  sheriff  nor  governor,  but  his  own  right 
arm.  To  him  the  courts  are  an  impertinence.  No  one  could  appre- 
ciate better  than  he  the  feeling  of  Robin  Hood  toward  the  high  sheriff 
of  Nottingham. 

There  is  a  considerable  amount  of  shooting  going  on  in  this  country 
all  the  time,  though  formerly  there  was  more  than  there  is  now.  On 
one  occasion  a  generation  ago,  nine  men,  I  am  told,  were  hanged  at  one 
time  in  the  county  in  which  I  was  reared.  The  ninth  man  to  ascend 
the  scaffold  coolly  remarked  that  "it  seemed  the  sign  was  in  the  neck 
that  week."  There  was  a  tavern  at  no  great  distance  from  where  I 
lived,  at  which  fifty-seven  men  had  been  killed.  During  the  last 
summer  that  I  spent  in  my  county,  four  men  on  the  "yan  side  er 
Clinch"  shot  one  another  to  pieces  with  Winchester  rifles,  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  combatants  standing  by  her  husband,  and  handing  him 
ammunition  until  he  fell.  The  man  who  brought  across  the  news  to 
us  had  little  to  say  about  the  men,  but  remarked  that  it  was  a  pity 
to  see  lying  there  a  fine  horse  which  had  been  killed  by  a  stray  shot. 
These  are  men  of  war  from  their  youth.  The  training  with  "shootin'- 
irons"  begins  with  childhood;  and  the  boy  of  twelve  is  often,  in 
marksmanship,  the  match  for  an  experienced  man. 

But  while  outlawry  there  is  not  so  c(jmmon  as  it  once  was,  the  people 
still  admire  it,  and  will  sit  for  hours  telling  stories  of  men  who  have 
defied  the  courts.  Many  are  the  prose  sagas  told  there  of  men  like 
Macajah  Harp,  Bill  I'ugate,'  Bloof  Bundrant,  and  Har\ey  Logan. 
Nor  do  I  think  this  admiration  for  the  outlaw  is  anything  abnormal. 
It  is  only  another  expression  of  admiration  for  braver>',  whether  rightly 

'  I  have  a  friend  in  C'irainK<r  County  who  take**  great  pride  in  the  (act  that  lie  "run" 
with  Hill  KuKale.  Me  tells  many  stories  of  thirt  outlaw.  One  will  In-ar  re|K>atinK  here. 
The  MherifT  wnl  FuKatc  word  that  he  was  coniinK  for  him.  Fugate  sent  him  word  thai  if 
he  did,  he  had  l>ettrr  bring  a  "waKin"  with  which  to  haul  back  his  own  dead  body;  if, 
however,  the  sherifT  were  anxious  to  sec  him.  he  would  come  to  the  next  session  of  his  own 
accord.  At  the  appointed  time  Fugate  came,  took  his  seat  in  the  prisoner's  box,  and 
awaited  the  completion  of  his  trial.  lie  was  found  guilty,  and  the  judge  pronounced  the 
sentence.  The  sheriff  came  over  to  take  charge  of  the  prisoner;  but  that  in<lividual 
promptly  covered  the  sheriff  with  two  pistols,  told  the  crowd  tliat  if  all  remained  quiet, 
none  should  \tv  hurt,  backed  out  of  the  room,  sprung  on  his  horse,  and  rtxlc  back  to  the 
mountains. 


142  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

or  wrongly  exerted.  The  stories  of  Hereward,  Fulk  Fitz  Warine, 
Robin  Hood,  Grisli,  Grettir,  Wolf,  Wilhclm  Tell,  Eustace,  and  Fran- 
cisco are  just  such  expressions  as  have  come  from  earlier  periods  of  the 
English,  Scandinavian,  German,  French,  and  Spanish  peoples.  Even 
to-day  the  story  of  crime  still  holds  its  place  in  the  bookstalls;  and  we 
all,  old  and  young,  like  still  to  see  a  criminal  die  game. 

One  other  characteristic  of  this  folk  must  not  be  forgotten:  they 
sing  constantly.  If,  on  almost  any  "pretty  day,"  you  should  walk 
along  a  country  road  in  East  Tennessee,  you  could  listen  to  the  plough- 
man singing  or  whistling  in  the  fields,  while  across  the  neighboring 
creek  there  would  come  the  song  of  the  barefoot  country  girl  as  she 
helped  her  mother  hang  out  the  washing  or  "pack  water"  from  the 
spring.  If  you  should  pass  a  group  of  men  who,  having  been  "warned" 
to  work  the  road,  were  "putting  in  their  time"  on  the  highway,  you 
would  hear  them  continually  breaking  into  song  as  they  swung  the 
pick,  handled  the  shovel,  or  drove  the  steel  drill  into  some  projecting 
rock.  On  the  porch  of  the  cross-roads  store  you  would  find  a  party 
•of  idle  boys  and  men,  who,  if  not  eager  listeners  to  some  rude  banjo 
minstrel's  song,  would  be  singing  in  concert,  now  a  fragment  of  some 
hymn,  and  at  the  next  moment  some  song  of  baldest  ribaldry.  If  your 
visit  to  this  country  happened  to  be  at  the  proper  time  of  the  week, 
you  might  be  able  some  night  to  attend  a  "singin'."  You  would  find 
the  young  folk  gathered  at  the  "meetin'-house,"  or  still  more  probably 
at  the  home  of  one  member  of  the  "class."  The  songs  which  they 
have  gathered  to  practise  are  of  the  Sunday-school  variety,  such  as  have 
been  introduced  by  the  singing-school  teacher.^  In  this  gathering 
nearly  every  one  has  a  book  and  reads  his  music.  I  have  known 
people  who,  although  they  can  scarcely  read  a  word  of  English,  read 
music  well.  You  are  not  to  be  surprised,  too,  if  you  hear  some  very 
good  singing,  only  it  is  fearfully  loud,  each  singing  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  while  the  song  is  invariably  "entuned  in  the  nose."  They  often 
mispronounce  the  words,  and  still  oftener  have  no  idea  as  to  what  the 
words  mean,  but  that  does  not  matter:  the  song  goes  on.     After  the 

'  This  teacher,  called  the  "perfesser"  (a  title  given  in  the  South  to  all  male  teachers), 
teaches  ten  days  for  ten  dollars,  and  "boards  around"  with  his  "scholars."  He  is  a  repre- 
sentative of  what  was  once  the  travelling  minstrel.  Not  only  is  he  the  final  authority  on 
all  matters  musical,  and  the  high  priest  of  religious  music,  but  he  also,  from  time  to  time, 
essays  the  composition  of  both  poetry  and  music,  and  teaches  the  folk  to  sing  his  songs. 
Professor  Beatty  published  recently  in  the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore  (vol.  xxii,  p.  71) 
a  song  based  on  the  New  Market  wreck.  I  heard  last  summer  another  song  composed  on 
this  same  occurrence  by  one  of  these  travelling  minstrels.  I  have  also  in  mind  a  song  that 
the  teacher  who  "learned"  me  the  "rudiments"  composed  and  had  us  sing  at  the  farewell 
session  of  his  school.  Besides  the  fact  that  the  singing-master  is  the  custodian  of  all  religious 
music,  he  also  assumes  many  of  the  functions  of  the  preacher.  Teaching  in  the  churches 
and  drawing  his  patronage  from  the  members,  he  finds  it  necessary  also  to  "talk;"  and  so 
it  is  the  usual  thing  to  hear  religious  exhortation  mixed  with  instruction  in  music. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  143 

singing  is  over,  the  young  folk  make  their  way  home,  usually  singing  all 
the  way.  The  boys  who  have  not  a  "swing"  amuse  themselves  by 
firing  their  pistols  (the  togae  viriles  of  the  mountain  boy)  in  proud 
contempt  of  the  sheriff  and  all  that  with  him  ever  be. 

I  call  attention  to  this  religious  singing  because  it  is  one  of  the 
directions  that  the  popular  love  of  music  has  taken.  The  Church  has 
often,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  been  the  greatest  foe  to  the 
preservation  of  popular  tradition.  These  songs,  learned  at  Sunday- 
school,  take  the  place  of  all  others;  and  it  is  mostly  these  that,  on  the 
next  day,  occupy  the  girl  as  she  "battles"  the  clothes,  and  the  boy  as 
he  chops  out  the  "crap." 

But  as  strong  as  is  the  grip  of  the  Church,  back  in  the  coves  and 
hollows  the  spirit  of  mirth  still  dwells  in  other  than  idle  brains.  At 
"Square"  Murray's,  near  the  head  of  Wildcat,  there  is  pretty  sure 
to  be,  before  many  weeks  pass,  a  "quiltin',"  a  "house-raisin',"  a 
"workin',"  a  "watermelon-cuttin',"  a  "candy-pullin',"  or  a  "pea- 
huilin'."  At  the  last  named  the  tedious  task  of  shelling  the  summer's 
crop  of  peas  is  made  even  a  pleasure,  for  the  happy  thought  of  the 
hostess  has  seated  the  young  folk  two  by  two  on  the  sand-scoured 
floor  in  front  of  a  great  backlog  fire,  now  roaring,  in  the  wide-throated 
chimney,  against  the  wind  and  the  frost  outside.  About  eleven  o'clock 
the  floor  is  cleared  of  hulls,  the  banjo  and  the  fiddle  are  brought  in, 
and  some  of  the  >oung  folk  are  soon  dancing  to  the  time  of  "  Rabbit  in 
the  Pea-Patch,"  "I  Love  Somebody,"  "The  Arkansaw  Traveller," 
"Old  Folks  better  go  to  Bed,"  "The  Devil's  Dance,"  "Fire  in  the 
Mountain,"  or  some  other  characteristic  mountain  melody.  I  said 
"some  of  the  young  folk"  designedly;  for  not  all  are  bold  enough 
to  risk  the  anathema  of  the  circuit-rider  backed  by  the  entire  body 
of  the  Church.  In  fact,  the  parents  of  many  of  these  young  people 
allow  them  to  come  to  this  merry-making  only  on  condition  that 
they  do  not  dance.  But  these  young  church  members  arc  in- 
genious. They  propose  a  game  of  "Skip-to-my-loo,"  "\\ea\illy- 
Wheat,"  "Shoot-the-BufTalo,"  or  some  other  equally  innocent  form  of 
moving  to  the  time  of  music.  Mere,  of  course,  the  fiddle  is  left  out, 
and  the  "players"  sing  fc^r  an  accompaniment  to  their  "play."  This, 
as  evcrybfxly  knows,  is  notdancing,  this  is  "Skip-to-my-loo;"  and  yet 
by  this  name  it  seems  as  sweet  to  these  thoughtless  ones  as  the  forbid- 
den f)Ieasure  itself,  while  they  have  the  added  assurance  that  it  lea\es 
neither  soil  nor  cautel  to  besmirch  the  \irtue  of  tlnir  ( iuirch  records.' 

'  DanciiiK  is  con><iilcre(|  l>y  the  rrliKiously  inclined  as  une  of  llic  inosi  (laniniiiK  of  sins. 
It  sccniH  tf)  derive  its  wickedness  from  the  instrument  which  accompanies  it.  An  in'<tru- 
ment  of  music  is  considered  the  esjK-cial  proiH-rly  of  tli(r  Devil.  Not  ntany  churclu-s  will 
allow  even  an  organ  in  their  buildiuKS.  Particularly  does  the  Devil  ride  u|X)n  a  fuldlc- 
Bticlc.  People  who  think  it  a  little  thing  to  tak'.-  human  life  will  shudder  at  the  thought 
of  dancing. 

vol,.   XXV. — NO.   96.  — 10 


1 4^  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

That  song  is  instinctive  with  this  folk  is  further  shown,  I  think,  by 
the  fact  that  with  them  all  formal  discourse  is  sung.  I  do  not  here 
refer  to  the  sing-song  way  in  which  all  speech  is  carried  on  among  them; 
though  I  think  this,  too,  is  significant.  I  mean  that  whenever  a  man 
or  woman  speaking  in  public  becomes  deeply  interested  in  what  he  is 
saying,  he  begins  to  sing  to  a  definite  rhythm,  and  with  a  distinct 
regard  for  pitch,  all  that  he  has  to  say.  The  Hard-shell  Baptists  sing 
their  sermons  to  well-defined  melodies,  —  melodies  which  are  im- 
provised by  the  preacher  at  the  time  of  speaking.  Indeed,  this  gift 
of  singing  the  sermon  is  regarded  as  the  chief  criterion  of  a  call  to 
preach.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  members,  when  they  get 
happy  and  shout,  cry  out  in  the  same  rhythmic  movement,  and  some- 
times dance  —  after  King  David's  manner,  we  can  imagine  —  in 
perfect  time  to  their  shouting. 

Having  once  understood  how  completely  for  several  generations 
these  people  have  been  separated  from  the  advancing  civilization  of 
the  rest  of  the  world,  and  having  seen  how  thoroughly  instinctive 
with  them  is  their  love  for  song,  we  should  not  be  surprised  to  find 
that  among  them  there  still  exist  some  traces  of  the  ancient  ballad- 
making  faculty.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  many  of  the  traditional  ballads 
have  been  found  among  them  still  alive;  and  yet  other  songs,  ap- 
parently the  very  material  out  of  which  the  popular  ballad  is  made, 
may  be  picked  up  there  to-day. 

It  was  my  fortune,  while  I  was  yet  a  child,  to  move  with  my  parents 
to  the  mountains  of  East  Tennessee.  As  I  grew  up,  I  learned  a  good 
many  of  these  songs,  and  I  have  even  watched  some  of  them  in  the 
process  of  formation.  For  some  years  past  I  have  been  trying  to  make 
a  collection  of  such  fragments  of  popular  verse  as  I  could  remember  or 
could  induce  my  friends  to  write  down  for  me. 

Although  I  have  found  the  germ  of  this  collection  in  the  body  of 
verse  which  I  secured  from  the  mountains,  I  have  also  included  such 
kindred  verse  as  I  have  been  able  to  collect  in  other  Southern  States. 
I  have  even  gone  further;  for,  believing  that  the  Southern  negro  is, 
in  a  yet  greater  degree  than  the  white  man  of  the  South,  a  representa- 
tive of  the  ballad-making  epoch,  I  have  included  also  such  negro  verse 
as  I  could  readily  pick  up. 

The  entire  collection  I  have  divided  under  the  following  heads: 
(I)  Songs  of  Outlaws,  (II)  Songs  of  Animals,  (III)  Dance  Songs  and 
Nursery  Rhymes,  (IV)  Religious  Songs,  (V)  Songs  of  the  Railroad, 
(VI)  Songs  of  Drinking  and  Gambling,  (VII)  Songs  of  the  Plantation, 
(VIII)  Songs  of  Love,  and  (IX)  Miscellaneous  Verses. 

As  far  as  I  know,  the  material  I  have  has  never  appeared  in  print. 
It  is  certainly  in  the  possession  of  the  folk,  and  for  the  most  part,  I 
believe,  has  sprung  from  the  heart  of  the  folk.     Most  of  the  songs  I 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South 


HS 


am  reporting  are  mere  fragments.  Individuals  seldom  know  a  song 
in  its  entirety:  they  know  it  only  by  snatches.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, too,  that  these  songs  are  not  integral  things.  In  many  cases 
the  stanzas  have  no  definite  order;  and  some  stanzas  may  be  known  to 
one  person  and  community,  and  be  entirely  unknown  to  another. 
Further,  some  songs  have  become  hopelessly  confused  with  others. 
This  fact  is  due  chiefly,  I  think,  to  the  comparative  scarcity  of  melodies, 
one  melody  being  made  to  serve  for  se\eral  different  songs. 

In  such  songs  as  I  have  from  recitation,  I  have  attempted  to  repre- 
sent by  i)honetic  spelling  the  words  which  have  a  local  pronunciation. 
In  those  which  I  know  only  from  manuscript  I  ha\e  retained  the 
spelling  of  the  original,  although  that  spelling  rarely  represents  the 
true  sound.  Such  manuscripts  as  I  ha\e  been  able  to  secure  I  have 
deposited  in  the  Harvard  College  Library. 

I.    SONGS  OF  OUTL.WVS 

Besides  the  many  stories  of  outlaws  current  in  the  mountains,  we 
are  not  surprised  to  find  some  songs  of  outlaws.  Usually,  whenever 
an  outlaw  has  attracted  public  attention,  some  form  of  song  springs 
up  concerning  him.  A  few  summers  ago  Harvey  Logan,  an  outlaw 
of  national  reputation,  was  confined  in  the  Knoxville  jail.  The  public 
made  a  hero  of  him,  and  many  ladies  carried  him  flowers  during  his 
imprisonment.  During  the  same  summer  he  made  his  escape  from 
jail  in  a  very  sensational  manner.  He  was  after  this  more  than  ever 
considered  as  a  hero.  I  was  not  surprised,  then,  last  summer  to  find  a 
fragment  of  a  ballad  which  had  alrca(l\'  sprung  up  concerning  the 
deeds  of  this  outlaw.  Other  outlaws  are  honoretl  in  the  same  waN*. 
I  present  below  some  of  the  outlaw  songs  I  ha\  e  j)icked  up  in  the  South. 


I.     JESSE   JAMES' 


-I      i  0     0       0  -- 


•  Sec  Journal  of  Amtriean  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxii.  p.  2.|6.  for  a  version  from  North  Carolina. 


146  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

the  foregoing  Chorus. 


Variant  of  the  foregoing  Chorus.  jy  g 

Laid  Jes-se  James  in  his  grave,  Laid  Jes-se  James  in  bis  grave. 

A 
(From  East  Tennessee;  mountain  whites;  from  memory;  1905) 
Jesse  James  wuz  the  man  ^  who  travelled  thoo  the  Ian', 

Stealin'  en  robbin'  wuz  'is  trade; 
But  a  dirty  little  caoward  by  the  name  uv  Robert  Haoward  ^ 
Laid  Jesse  James  in  'is  grave.' 

Pore  Jesse  James!  Pore  Jesse  James! 

Laid  Jesse  James  in  'is  grave; 
En  a  dirty  little  caoward  by  the  name  uv  Robert  Haoward 

Laid  Jesse  James  in  'is  grave. 

Oh,  the  people  uv  the  West,  when  they  h'yerd  uv  Jesse's  death, 

Wondered  haow  the  hero  come  ter  die; 
But  a  dirty  little  caoward  by  the  name  uv  Robert  Haoward 

Laid  Jesse  James  in  'is  grave.'' 

It  wuz  late  one  Saddy^  night  when  the  moon  wuz  shinin'  bright 

Thet  Jesse  James  robbed  the  Danville^  train; 
But  thet  Smith  en  Wesson  ball  knocked  pore  Jesse  frum  the  wall  ^ 

En  laid  Jesse  James  in  'is  grave. 

B 

(From  Eastern  Kentucky;  mountain  whites;  MS.  of  C.  B.  House*) 
Oh!  Jesse  was  the  man,  he  travelled  through  the  land. 

For  money  Jesse  never  suffered  pain; 
Jesse  and  his  brother  Frank  they  robbed  Chicago  bank. 

And  stopped  the  Danville  train. 

Jesse  said  to  his  brother  Frank,  "  Will  you  stand  by  my  side 

Till  the  Danville  train  passes  by?" 
"  Yes;  ril  stand  by  your  side  and  fight  one  hundred  men  till  I  died* 

And  the  Danville  train  has  rolled  by." 

1  In  the  mountains  the  "short  a"  has  the  standard  English  sound  low-front-wide,  not 
the  low-front-narrow  of  other  parts  of  the  South. 

'  Compare  the  corresponding  Hne  in  C.  Howard  was  a  pseudonym  assumed  by  Jesse 
James  at  one  time  in  his  career. 

'  Assonance  is  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  songs  of  the  mountains. 

*  This  stanza  has  evidently  been  corrupted  by  the  slipping-out  of  the  last  two  lines, 
and  the  substitution  of  lines  from  the  refrain. 

'  A  night  much  beloved  by  the  negroes  and  poor  whites. 

«  Folk  etymology  for  Glendale,  a  railroad-station  in  Missouri  where  a  famous  robbery 
took  place.  The  name  of  the  station  was  afterward  changed  to  avoid  the  danger  of  frighten- 
ing passengers  for  the  road.  Uanvillc  is  a  natural  change;  the  mountain  folk  did  know 
Danville,  Ky. 

'  Jesse  James  was  hanging  a  picture  on  the  wall  when  his  pretended  friend  shot  him. 

»  Contributed  by  Mr.  C.  B.  House,  Manchester,  Ky. 

•  This  line  appears  to  be  too  long,  but  it  perhaps  never  existed  in  a  smoother  version. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  147 

Oh!  Robert  Ford  was  the  man,  he  travelled  through  the  land, 

He  never  robbed  a  train  in  his  life, ' 
But  he  told  the  courts  that  his  aims  was  to  kill  Jesse  James, 

And  to  live  in  peace  with  his  wife. 

Ten  thousand  dollars  reward  was  given  Robert  F"ord 

For  killing  Jesse  James  on  the  sly; 
Poor  Jesse  has  gone  to  rest  with  his  hands  upon  his  breast, 

And  I'll  remember  Jesse  James  till  I  die. 


(From  Jackson  County,   Missouri;    country  whites;    MS.    of    F.  A.   Brown,    student  in 

Harvard  University;  1907) 

How  the  people  held  their  breath 

When  they  heard  of  Jesse's  death, 

And  they  wondered  how  the  hero  came  to  die; 

It  was  for  the  great  reward 

That  little  2  Robert  Ford 

Shot  Jesse  James  on  the  sly. 

Jesse  had  a  wife, 

The  joy  of  his  life; 

His  children  they  were  brave; 

'Twas  a  thief  and  a  coward 

That  shot  Captain  Howard 

And  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

Jesse  James  was  a  man  and  a  friend  of  the  poor,* 

And  for  money  Jesse  never  suffered  pain; 

It  was  with  his  brother  Frank 

He  robbed  Chicago  bank 

And  stopped  the  Glendale  train. 

And  he  wandered  to  the  car  that  was  not  far  away  — 
For  the  money  in  the  safe  they  did  aim; 

'  A  good  expression  of  the  supreme  contempt  of  the  mountaineers  for  a  man  Hke  Ford. 
To  them  it  was  the  height  of  tragic  irony  that  such  a  man  should  kill  Jesse  James. 

'  Ford  was  only  a  youth  when  he  murdered  Jesse  James. 

•  One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  outlaw  hero  is  his  kindness  to  the  |>oor.  Com- 
pare the  legends  of  the  generosity  of  Hereward.  Fulk  Fitz  Warine,  and  Robin  Hinid.  Mr. 
F.  A.  Braun,  a  citizen  of  Jackson  County.  Missouri,  tells  me  the  following  story  of  Jesse 
James,  which  he  nays  is  current  in  his  county:  One  day  the  outlaw  stop|H'd  at  the  cottage 
of  a  jxHir  widow  and  asked  for  something  to  eat.  The  woman  generously  share<l  her  meal 
with  the  stranger.  But  the  latter  noticed  that  both  the  widow  and  her  children  were  in 
distress.  He  asked  the  \xh)T  woman  what  her  trouble  was.  With  tears  in  her  eyes  she 
told  hini  that  tin-  house  in  which  she  lived  was  mortgaged,  that  this  was  the  day  for  pay- 
ment, and  that  the  landlord  was  coming  for  his  money;  but  she  lacked  a  considerable 
amount  of  the  money  that  must  be  paid,  and  she  knew  that  nhc  should  be  turned  out. 
The  outlaw  counted  out  the  money  needed,  ma<le  her  a  present  of  It.  and  departed.  He 
did  not  go  far,  however,  but  hid  in  a  cornfield  near  the  roadside.  There  he  waited  tilt 
the  creditor  had  called  at  the  witlow's  cottage  and  was  returning  with  the  nioney.  There- 
upon Jesse  James  took  possession  of  the  entire  sum,  and  sent  the  creditor  home  with  empty 
saddle-bags. 


148  Journal  of  America7i  Folk-Lore 

While  the  agent  on  his  knees 

Delivered  up  the  keys 

To  Frank  and  Jesse  James. 

D 
(From  Jackson  County,  Missouri;  country  whites;  MS.  of  F.  A.  Brown;  1908) 

Jesse  James  was  a  man  and  the  friend  of  the  poor, 

And  for  money  he  never  sutTcred  pain, 

But  with  his  brother  Frank, 

He  robbed  Chicago  bank. 

And  stopped  the  Glendale  train. 

And  they  wandered  to  a  car  that  was  not  far  away, 

For  the  money  in  the  safe  was  their  aims. 

And  the  agent  on  his  knees 

Delivered  up  the  keys 

To  Frank  and  Jesse  James. 

Jesse  had  a  wife 

And  he  loved  her  dear  as  life, 

And  he  loved  his  children  brave. 

Oh  the  dirty  little  coward 

That  shot  Johnny  Howard 

And  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

E 

(From    Southern  Indiana;    country  whites;  recitation  of    U.    H.    Smith,  Bloomington, 

Ind.;  1908) 

Jesse  James  had  a  wife. 

The  joy  of  his  life, 

And  the  children,  they  were  brave; 

But  that  dirty  little  coward 

Who  shot  Johnny  Howard 

Has  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

F 
(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  Miss  Annie  Reedy,  student  in  the  Uni%'ersity 

of  Mississippi;  1908) 

Jesse  left  a  wife  to  mourn  all  her  life, 

Three  children  to  beg  for  bread; 

Oh,  the  dirty  little  coward  that  shot  Mr.  Howard, 

And  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

G 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  J.  E.  Rankin,  student  in  the  University  of 

Mississippi;  1908) 

Jesse  James  had  a  wife  who  mourned  all  her  life. 
Three  children  to  cry  for  bread; 

But  a  dirty  little  coward  shot  down  Thomas  Howard, 
And  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  149 

H 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  Ben  Bell,  student;  1908) 

Jesse  James  was  a  man,  a  pistol  in  each  hand 

He  flagged  down  the  great  Eastern  train; 

In  the  shade  of  the  trees,  he  delivered  up  the  keys 

Of  the  trains  he  had  robbed  years  ago. 

He  pulled  off  his  coat  and  hung  it  on  the  wall,'  — 
A  thing  he  had  never  done  before, — 
Robert  Ford  watched  his  eye,  and  shot  him  on  the  sly, 
Which  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

I 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  J.  L.  Byrd.  student;  1908) 
Little*  Jesse  James  was  a  man  of  his  own. 
Killed  many  men  and  expected  to  kill  as  many  more, 
When  he  was  shot  on  the  sly  by  little  Robert  Ford, 
\\'h(j  laid  poor  Jesse  in  his  grave. 

People  of  the  South,  ain't  you  sorry?   {thrice) 
They  laid  poor  Jesse  in  his  grave. 

J 
(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  W.  C.  Stokes,  student;  1908) 
Mother  I'm  dreaming. 
Mother  I'm  dreaming. 
Mother  I'm  dreaming. 

Of  Frank  and  Jesse  James. 

K 

(From  Mississippi;  negroes;  1909) 
O  Jesse  James,  why  didn't  yuh  run 
When  Hob  Ford  pulled  his  Gatlin  gun, 
Gatlin  gun,  Gatlin  ^un! 

2.     JACK    .MIDULETON 
(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  J.  E.  Rankin,  student;  1908) 
My  name,  it  is  Jack  Middleton; 
From  Arkansas  I  came; 
I  am  a  highway  roughian; 
Stage  robbing  is  my  game. 

I  wont  out  into  Texas, 

Some  gamblers  ther  to  sec; 

I  tell  you,  wild  and  reckless  boys, 

I  got  on  a  western  spree. 

I  wore  a  pair  of  six  shooters. 
Which  made  me  feel  quite  grand. 

'  Jwwe  James,  on  thia  occa»ion.  look  his  pietoU  ofT  and  tOMcd  Uum  on  ilir  Ix-.l. 
»  " Little ■'  appears  to  be  a  favorite  epithet  of  ballad  litcraturr. 


1 50  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

I  found  myself  in  camps  one  day 
With  Jesse  James's  band.* 

You  know  it  put  sad  feelings  o'er  me 
To  think  of  days  of  yore, 
And  it's  I'll  be  a  good  boy 
And  do  so  no  more.'' 

Jesse  passed  the  bottle  around; 
VVe  all  took  a  dram; 
Liquor  put  old  hell  in  me 
And  I  didn't  give  a  damn. 

There  was  Dick  Little,  Joe  Collins,  myself, 
And  Frank,  and  the  other  three, — 
A  squad  containing  seven  men, 
And  a  merry  bunch  was  we. 

Jesse  took  the  train  for  St.  Joe 
And  shipped  the  other  three. 
That  left  a  squad  containing 
Joe  Collins,  Frank,  and  me. 

Our  plan  was  to  cross  the  Rio  Grande ' 

And  enter  the  western  plains, 

To  intercept  the  U.  P. 

And  rob  the  West-bound  train. 

O'Bannan's  rangers  followed  us 
One  cold  and  stormy  night. 
At  last  we  saw  our  only  revenge 
Was  to  give  the  boys  a  fight. 

They  whistled  bullets  all  around  our  ears, 
Although  they  passed  us  by; 
But  every  time  our  rifles  cracked 
A  ranger  had  to  die.* 

I  then  pulled  for  old  Arkansas, 
I  thought  it  was  the  best. 
To  put  up  at  my  girl's  house, 
And  take  a  little  rest. 

There  the  sheriff  tackled  me, 

He  thought  he  was  the  boss; 

But  I  drew  old  Betsy*  from  my  side 

And  nailed  him  to  the  cross. 

'  This  is  interesting  as  connecting  a  group  of  other  men  with  the  Jesse  James  matter. 
'  Possibly  a  momentary  Falstaffian  repentance. 

*  Jesse  James's  band  did  some  of  their  robbing  across  the  border,  in  Mexico. 

*  A  touch  of  the  true  ballad  brevity. 

*  The  more  primitive  folk  are  fond  of  giving  names  to  their  weapons.     Compare  the 
practice  of  the  heroes  of  Romance. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  1 5 1 

3.     OLD    BRADY  ^ 
(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  R.  J.  Slay,  student;  1908) 

0  mamma,  mamma!  what  was  that? 

A  big  gun  busted  right  across  our  back! 

Ho,  ho!  he  has  been  on  the  jolly  too  long. 

1  went  a  little  closer  and  then  stepped  back, 
And  saw  the  blood  on  Brady's  back.' 

They  sent  for  the  doctor  in  a  mighty  haste. 

"  Oh,  yonder  comes  the  surgeon  in  a  racking'  pace!" 

He  raised  his  hand,  and  his  hand  was  red, 

"  Oh,  my  goodness  gracious!  old  Brady  is  dead!  " 

When  the  news  got  out  that  old  Brady  was  dead. 
Out  come  the  ladies  all  dressed  in  red. 

4.     DOCK    BISHOP* 
(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  J.  E.  Rankin;  1908) 

My  parents  advised  me  when  I  was  quite  young 
To  leave  off  night  walking,'  bad  company  to  shun. 
To  leave  off  night  walking,  bad  company  to  shun. 

But  to  their  advising  I  paid  little  care;* 

Kept  rambling  and  gambling  in  the  wildest  career. 

I  rambled  and  gambled  by  night  and  by  day 

All  to  maintain  pretty  Maggie  and  to  dress  her  so  gay. 

Ofttimes  I  have  wondered  how  women  could  love  men; 
But  more  times  I've  wondered  hcnv  men  could  love  them. 

They  will  bring  him  to  sorrow  and  sudden  downfall; 
They  will  bring  him  to  labor,  spring,  summer,  and  fall. 

When  I  was  on  shipboard,  pretty  Maggie  by  mc. 
Bound  down  in  strong  iron,  I  thought  myself  free. 

When  I  landed  from  shipboard,  my  old  father  did  stand, 
A-pulling  his  grey  locks  and  wringing  his  hands. 

Saying,  "  Son,  I  have  warned  you  before  to-day, 
And  now  I  am  ready  to  bt-  l.iid  in  the  clay." 

Farewell  to  young  men  and  ladies  so  gay; 
To-morrow  I'll  be  sleeping  in  the  coldest  of  clay! 

*  An  outlaw  who  wa-i  killed  oomc  years  ago  in  Mississippi. 

*  Irlcntiral  rhyme,  a  nf)t  uncommon  thinK  in  folk-|K>etry. 

*  A  Kait  of  a  horse  amountinK  to  about  a  mile  in  four  minutes. 

*  A  Mississippi  outlaw  who  claimed  that  he  was  driven  t«>  his  nefarious  trade  by  the 
expensive  tastes  of  his  wife.  This  is  a  good  example  of  the  l)allad  of  moral  advice  that 
gets  itself  comp<)sc«l  anent  the  execution  of  some  criminal.  Compare  the  broadsides, 
"The  Trial  and  Confession  of  Frederick  Prentice."  the  lamentation  of  James  Rogers' 
"John  Brown's  Bo<ly"  and  "Captain  Kidd." 

*  Compare  "night-riding"  as  used  at  present  in  the  Southern  States. 

*  Pronounced  to  rhyme  with  "career,"  ke-uh. 


152 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


5.     OLD    JOE    CLARK 

A 

(From  East  Tennessee;  mountain  whites;  from  memory;  1905) 


-cl- 


iii^^E^ 


Ole  Joe  Clark  'e  killed  a  man 
En  buried  'im  in  the  san'; 
Said  ef  'e  had  another  chance, 
He'd  kill  another  man. 

Good-by,  ole  Joe  Clark! 

Good-by,  I'm  gone! 
Good-by,  ole  Joe  Clark! 

Good-by,  Betty  Brown! 

B 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  R.  J.  Slay;  1908) 

Old  Joe  Clark,  he  is  a  sharp. 
Creeping  through  the  timber. 
Old  Joe  Clark  shot  at  a  lark 
And  killed  my  wife  in  the  window. 


6.     CAPTAIN    KELLY 

(From  West  Virginia;  mountain  whites;  MS.  of  Davidson;  1908 

As  I  walked  over  Mulberry  Mountain, 
I  met  Captain  Kelly;  his  money  he  was  counting, 
First  I  drew  my  pistol;  then  I  drew  my  rapier, 
"Stand  and  deliver,  for  I'm  your  money-taker!" 

Mush-a-ring-a-ring-a-rah ! 
Whack  fol-d'  the  dady  0! 
Whack  fol-d'  the  dady  0! 
Ther's  whiskey  in  the  jug. 

I  took  it  home  to  Molly, 

I  took  it  home  to  Molly, 

And  she  said  she'd  ne'er  receive  it, 

For  the  devil's  in  the  women. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  153 

7.     MY    ROWDY    BOY 
(From  West  Virginia;  mountain  whites;  MS.  of  Davidson;  1908) 
Where  is  my  rowdy  boy? 
Where  is  my  rowdy  boy? 
He's  been  to  the  pen, 
And  he's  got  to  go  again. 
Good-by,  my  rowdy  boy! 

8.     THE    STAGE    ROBBER 

E 

(From  Tennessee;  mountain  whites;  from  memory;  1905  ') 

O  farther,  O  farther!  whut  made  you  do  so, 
To  rob  the  pore  driver  in  the  lowlan's  so  low?  * 

9.     THE    DYING    COWBOY ' 

A 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  M.  A.  Kent;  1909) 

1  rode  to  fair  Laden,  fair  Laden, 

1  rode  to  fair  Laden  so  early  one  morn. 

And  there  I  fancied  a  handsome  young  cowboy, 

All  dressed  in  linen  and  ready  for  the  grave. 

Go  beat  the  drum  lowly,  and  play  the  fife  slowly. 

And  play  the  dead-march  as  they  carry  me  along; 

Go  carry  me  to  the  graveyard  and  throw  the  sod  o'er  me; 

For  I'm  a  poor  cowboy,  I  know  Lve  done  wrong! 

Oh,  once  in  the  saddle  I  used  to  be  dashing, 

Oh,  once  in  the  saddle  I  used  to  be  gay. 

'Twas  then  I  took  to  drinking,  from  that  to  card-playing. 

Cut  short  in  my  living,  now  dying  I  lay. 

Go  call  around  me  a  crowd  of  young  cowboys. 
And  tell  them  the  story  of  my  sad  fate; 
Go  tell  thelir]  dear  mothers,  before  they  go  further. 
Go  stop  lhe[ir]  wild  roving  before  it  is  too  late. 

Go  write  a  letter  to  my  grey-haired  mother. 

Go  write?  a  letter  to  my  sister  dear, 

Hut  then  there  is  another,  yes,  dearer  than  mother; 

What  will  she  say  when  she  knows  I  am  dead? 

•  Thin  in  the  only  Btan /a  1  (  an  rcmcinlxT  of  a  !«ong  brouRht  from  Texas.  It  I5  said  to 
have  Ix-'-n  romiKim-cl  by  the  dauKhtcr  of  the  criminal  and  sold  by  h<"r  at  the  execution  of 
her  fath<-r.  In  this  connrriion  the  following  story  is  of  interest.  Some  years  ago  an  outlaw 
named  ("allahan  was  cxrrutrcl  in  Kentucky.  Just  before  his  execution  he  sat  on  his  coffin 
anci  played  and  sang  a  ballad  of  his  own  com|M>sing,  and,  when  he  had  fmished,  broke  his 
tnusiail  instrument  over  his  knee.  The  situation  is,  of  coursr,  the  same  as  that  of  Burns's 
"Md'hcrson's  Farewell." 

•  With  this  refrain  compare  Journal  of  Amrrican  l'nlk-l^<rf.  vol.  xviii.  p.  laj. 

•  For  other  versions  of  this  well-kriown  s<mg  comp;ire  Ibid.,  vol.  xii,  p.  J.so;  and  vol. 
xxii.  p.  358. 


154 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


B 

(From  Mississippi;  country  whites;  MS.  of  J.  E.  Rankin;  1909) 

As  I  went  out  walking  early  one  morning, 

As  I  went  out  walking  one  morning  in  May, 

I  met  a  young  cowboy  all  dressed  in  white  linen, 

All  dressed  in  white  linen  and  ready  for  the  grave. 

Go  write  me  a  letter  to  my  grey-headed  mother; 
Go  write  me  a  letter  to  my  sister  so  dear; 
And  there  is  another  more  dear  than  a  mother, 
I  know  she'd  be  weeping  if  she  knew  I  lay  here. 

"  Go  bring  me  a  cup  of  cold  water,  cold  water; 
Go  bring  me  a  cup  of  cold  water,"  he  said; 
But  when  I  returned  with  the  cup  of  cold  water, 
I  found  the  poor  cowboy  lying  there  dead. 


(From  West  Virginia;  mountain  whites;  MS.  of  Davidson;  1908) 
Once  in  my  saddle  I  used  to  go  socking. 
Once  in  my  saddle  I  used  to  be  gay; 
I  first  took  to  drinking,  and  then  to  card-playing, 
Was  shot  in  the  breast,  now  dying  I  lay. 

10.    tateriiillI  • 

E 

(From  Tennessee;  mountain  whites;  from  memory;  1911) 


^— ^- 


1 


Ef  yer  want  ter  git  yer  head  knocked  off, 
Ef  yer  want  ter  git  yer  fill; 
Ef  yer  want  ter  git  yer  head  knocked  off. 
Go  back  ter  Taterhill. 

'  When  the  church  now  called  Mary's  Chapel  was  built,  there  was  much  dispute  among 
the  parishioners  as  to  what  the  church  should  be  named.  One  party  stood  for  "Mary's 
Chapel,"  another  for  "Mount  Zion,"  and  another  for  "Tate's  Hill."  Officially  the  first 
prevailed;  but  the  common  people  chose  the  last,  which  by  folk-etymology  they  trans- 
formed to  "Taterhill."  The  dispute,  however,  was  for  a  time  very  violent,  and  the  con- 
tending parties  several  times  came  to  blows, — "drawed  rocks  en  knives,"  as  my  friend  Dave 
Noe  expressed  it.  This  stanza  is  a  part  of  a  song  which  sprang  up  to  celebrate  this  contest. 
Even  to  this  day  it  is  not  infrequent  to  have  religious  meetings  broken  up  by  a  free-for-all 
fight.  The  men  bring  their  pistols  and  their  whiskey  to  the  church,  and,  if  things  do  not 
go  to  suit  them,  they  sometimes  resort  to  violence.  I  remember  on  one  occasion  the  group 
on  the  inside  of  the  church  were  besieged  by  the  Moore  clan  from  the  outside.  My  cousin 
succeeded  in  holding  the  doorway  against  them  by  knocking  down  each  man  as  he  came 
up  the  steps,  while  the  women  and  children  were  taken  out  through  a  window  at  the  back 
of  the  building. 


Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South  155 

II.      RAILROAD    BILL 

A 

(From  Alabama;  negroes;  recitation  of  Mrs.  C.  Brown;  1909) 

Railroad  Bill '  cut  a  mighty  big  dash; 
Killed  McMillan  like  a  lightnin'-flash. 
En  he'll  lay  yo  po  body  daown. 

Railroad  Bill  ride  on  de  train, 
Tryin  t'ac'  big  like  Cuba  en  Spain. - 
En  he'll  lay  yo  po  body  daown. 

Get  up,  olc  woman,  you  slee[)in'  loo  late! 
Ef  Railroad  Bill  come  knockin'  at  yo  gate, 
He'll  lay  yo  po  body  daown. 

Talk  abaout  yo  bill,  yo  ten-dollah  bill, 
But  you  never  seen  a  bill  like  Railroad  Bill. 
En  he'll  lay  yo  po  body  daown. 

B 

(From  Mississippi;  negroes;  MS.  of  R.  J.  Slay;  1909) 
Railroad  Fiill  said  before  he  died. 
He'd  fit  all  the  trains  so  the  rounders  could  ride. 
Oh,  ain't  he  bad,  oh,  railroad  man! 

Railroad  Bill  cut  a  mighty  big  dash; 
He  killed  Bill  Johnson  with  a  lightning-flash. 
Oh,  ain't  he  bad,  oh,  railroad  man! 

C 

(From  Mississippi;  negroes;  MS.  of  J.  R.  Anderson;  1909) 
Railroad  Bill  is  a  mighty  bad  man. 
Come  skipping  and  dodging  through  this  land. 

I) 
(From  Mississippi;  negroes;  MS.  of  Dr.  Ilerringlon;  1909) 
Talk  about  yer  five  er  yer  ten  dollar  bill; 
Ain't  no  bill  like  de  Railroad  Bill. 

12.     JOE    TIRNER 
(From  Min.siiMtippi;  negroes;  MS.  of  M.  F.  Rubcl;  1909) 

Tell  me  Jo  Turner's  come  to  town;  {thrice) 
He's  brought  along  one  thousand  links  er  ch.iiii; 
He's  gwine  ter  have  one  nigger  fcr  each  link, 
(jwine  ter  gel  this  nigger  fer  one  link. 
University  of  Louisvillk, 

LOV'ISVILLK.    Kv. 

>  Railroad  Bill  wan  a  "bird  nigguh  "  who  terrified  Alul>aina  aomc  years  ago. 
*  A  rcmini!«cencc  of  the  Siraninh-American  war. 

(7*0  he  conlinued) 


156  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

WILLIAM    CARTER,    TIIR    BENSONTOWN    HOMER 

BY    I'll  ILL  IPS    BARRY.    A.M. 

In  the  "  Harris  Collection  of  American  Poetry,"  at  Brown  Uni- 
versity, is  a  small  \()lume  of  \erse  by  a  forgotten  country  minstrel, 
printed  in  crude  fashion  on  a  poor  (juality  of  paper,  now  brittle  and 
brown  with  age.  It  was  published  at  Akron,  O.,  in  the  year  1848,  as 
appears  from  the  titlepage.^ 

"William  Lorenzo  Carter,  the  Author,"  to  quote  from  the  preface 
to  the  little  book,  "was  born  at  Benson,  Rutland  County,  Vermont, 
November  14,  1813,  and  was  blind  from  his  birth,  or  so  nearly  so  that 
he  could  not  distinguish  objects,  and  could  only  see  that  there  was 
light,-  without  receiving  any  benefit  from  that  knowledge.  His  father  ^ 
was  a  Baptist  Clergyman,  of  good  and  respectable  standing  at  Benson,* 
although  he  was  not  permanently  located  at  that  place.  He  resided 
mostly  at  Benson  until  William  was  sixteen  years  of  age,  when  the 
Author  lost  his  mother;  and  soon  after  this  event,  his  father  became  a 
Mormon,  and  in  1833,  removed  to  Kirtland  in  this  State. ^  He  there 
commenced  the  study  of  English  Grammar,  learning  it  from  lectures 
and  from  having  it  read  to  him.  He  made  very  good  proficiency  in 
this  study  while  he  continued  it.  But  in  1834,  his  father  went  to 
the  Mormon  Settlement  in  Missouri,  where  he  died,  leaving  the  Author 
without  any  means  of  prosecuting  his  study,  and  in  fact,  leaving  him 
without  a  home  or  any  means  of  support,  never  having  learned  any  trade 
(which,  of  course,  he  could  only  learn  by  the  sense  of  feeling).  In  1836, 
he  returned  to  the  East,  with  the  intention  of  having  his  eyes  operated 
upon,  in  the  hope  that  he  might  thereby  be  enabled,  partially,  to 

'  Miscellaneous  Poems  on  Various  Subjects.  Composed  by  Wm.  L.  Carter,  who  has 
been  blind  from  his  birth.     Printed  by  H.  Canfield,  Akron,  1848. 

'  W.  A.  S.,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  whose  maternal  grandmother  was  own  aunt  to  William 
Carter,  states,  however,  "There  must  have  been  one  small  perfect  spot  in  the  retina  of 
the  right  eye,  —  this  he  made  use  of  by  means  of  a  sort  of  ray  filter,  composed  of  glass 
arranged  in  layers,  and  enclosed  in  a  leather  tube,  —  by  means  of  this  he  was  able  to  read." 

»  Rev.  John  Carter.  Recent  information  from  Benson  is  to  the  effect  that  he  is  still 
remembered  by  old  people  now  living  in  that  town. 

*  W.  A.  S.  states  definitely  that  Rev.  John  Carter  was  a  "minister  in  the  Baptist 
Church  at  Benson." 

6  "  Kirtland,  O.,  was  the  seat  of  the  first  Mormon  colony.  There  was  built  the  first 
Mormon  temple.  The  name  of  John  S.  Carter,  evidently  our  Benson  minister,  appears 
in  the  list  of  high  priests  chosen  Feb.  17,  1834,  to  constitute  the  first  high  council  of  the 
Mormon  Church"  (J.  H.  Evans,  One  Hundred  Years  of  Mormonism,  p.  195).  The  identity 
is  settled  by  the  following  anecdote  in  the  Journal  of  H.  C.  Kimball:  In  1834,  "when  the 
cholera  first  broke  out  in  the  camp,  John  S.  Carter  was  the  first  who  went  forward  to 
rebuke  it,  but  himself  was  immediately  slain"  (I.  W.  Riley,  The  Founder  of  Mormonism, 
p.  28s).  The  camp  referred  to  was  the  refuge-camp  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  River,, 
whither  the  Mormons  went  after  the  breaking-up  of  their  colony  in  Missouri. 


William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer  157 

receive  his  sight,  if  not  wholly;  but  in  this  he  did  not  succeed.  He  then 
endeavored  to  find  some  opportunity  to  learn  a  trade,  hut  the  same 
evil  genius  that  seemed  to  preside  over  his  destiny  baffled  his  efforts 
in  this  respect.  He  next  made  application  for  admittance  into 
the  Institution  for  the  Blind  in  Boston,  but  through  some  defect  in 
the  mode  of  application,  he  was  rejected.  Thus  failing  entirely  in  the 
object  of  his  journey,  he  returned  to  Ohio,  and  in  1840,  entered  the 
Institution  for  the  Blind  at  Columbus,  and  remained  in  that  excellent 
Institution  about  a  year  and  a  half,  during  which  time  he  learned  to 
read  and  write,  and  also  continued  the  study  of  English  Grammar, 
which  he  had  before  begun;  he  also  made  some  proficiency  in  com- 
position while  at  this  Institution.  From  thence,  he  went  to  Illinois, 
where  he  remained  a  short  time,  and  tiicn'  returned  to  this  State,  where 
he  has  resided  ever  since." 

Thus  far  the  preface  to  the  volume  concerning  Carter.  \'er\-  little 
more  is  known  of  his  subsequent  life.  From  another  source  it  is 
known  that  "in  the  year  i860,  he  left  his  home,  near  Kirtland,  Ohio, 
to  walk  to  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  he  being  a  great  walker,  often  under- 
taking journeys  of  a  hundred  miles.  He  reached  the  State  of  Illinois, 
but  nothing  has  ever  been  heard  from  him  since.  No  clew  to  his 
whereabouts  has  ever  been  discovered."*  Evidently  our  poet  was  a 
zealous  Mormon,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  was  among  the  number 
of  the  pilgrims  who  fell  by  the  wayside  ere  the\'  reached  the  i)romised 
land. 

"He  commenced  composing  verses  and  singing  them,  when  at  the 
age  of  twelve,  for  his  own  amusement,  and  to  while  away  the  dull  and 
tedious  hours  which  hung  heavily  on  his  mind.  He  would  also  compose 
epigrams  of  a  satirical  character  to  gratify  the  picjues  that  he  had 
against  some  of  his  mates.  None  of  these  earlier  poems,  however, 
were  ever  reduced  to  writing,  but  were  composed  and  recited  from 
memory."*  The  entire  published  product  of  his  muse  consists  of  six 
poems,  five  of  them  original,  upon  mournful  subjects,  the  sixth  a 
Scripture  paraphrase.*  These  "were  composed  at  various  times,  some 
before,  and  some  after  he  remoxcd  t(»  ( )hi(),  -  hv  would  compose  them 
and  retain  them  in  his  memory,  until  he  could  get  some  friend  to 
write  them  ofT  for  him."  '  .\  few  stanzas  from  one  of  the  best  of  them 
are  worth  reprfxlucing  here. 

'  Doulttlriut  lir  wrnt  to  Nauvixi,  the  Mormon  city  founded  tiy  Jowpli  Sjuitli  in  1840. 
his  return  to  Kirtland  Ix-inK  (x'^^pB  due  to  the  Nauvoo  riots  of  184.). 

•  W.  A.  S..  I.ancantrr.  Pa. 

•  From  llio  prcfate  to  the  volume  of  poemii. 

•  CotUrnt.H  of  the  volume  of  Carter's  |v)rni!«:  The  Orphan's  Dream;  I-ines  on  the  Death 
of  a  Mother;  Lines  connxjstul  on  partinK  with  a  Sister;  Lines  composed  on  a  Mother's 
Last  Words  to  her  Son;  Lines  addressed  to  my  Sitters,  on  takinit  Leave  of  them  in  1845; 
Paraphrase  on  the  l-irst  Chapter  of  C.enesis. 

'  From  the  preface  to  the  volume  of  poems. 


158  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

'T  is  true,  thy  happiest  youthful  days 
Are  gone  and  cannot  be  recalled, — 
Many  a  friend  beloved  by  thee 
No  more  on  earth  thou  niay'st  behold. 

But  heaven  can  make  the  desert  smile. 
The  withered  bud  to  bloom  a  rose. 
Sweet  rills  of  pleasure  to  abound, 
Where  the  dark  stream  of  trouble  flows. 

Short  is  affliction's  night  at  best. 
And  soon  the  glorious  day  will  dawn, 
With  joy  immortal  to  the  poor. 
And  bid  their  sorrows  all  be  gone. 

When  Michael  stays  the  wheel  of  time 
And  calls  the  holy  martyrs  forth, 
With  all  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord, 
From  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north. 

Where  streams  of  joy  forever  roll. 
Beyond  all  trouble,  death  and  pain, 
Thy  happy  parents  thou  shalt  hail, 
Receive  their  loving  smiles  again.  * 

A  perusal  of  Carter's  published  compositions  would  lead  no  one  to 
affirm  that  upon  their  intrinsic  merit  as  poems  depends  his  place  amongf 
American  bards.  It  is  as  the  Bensontown  Homer  that  he  is  significant 
for  us.  This  title  befits  him  as  the  author  of  the  now  celebrated 
American  traditional  ballad,  "Fair  Charlotte." ^  This  ballad  is  now 
current  in  the  States  from  Maine  westward  to  Dakota,  thence  south- 
ward to  Oklahoma;'  it  has,  moreover,  lately  been  recorded  in  Nova 
Scotia.  It  is  a  highly  significant  fact  that  no  trace  of  it  has  appeared 
in  the  rich  "ballad  country"  of  the  Southeastern  States.  "There  is 
no  question  as  to  William  Carter  being  the  author  and  composer  of 
this  song,"*  the  motive  for  which,  according  to  the  statement  of  the 
poet's  cousin,  being  "the  happening  of  the  events  described,  in  his 
old  Vermont  town  of  Benson,  or  Bensontown,"*     It  appears  to  have 

>  W.  L.  Carter,  The  Orphan's  Dream,  stanzas  80-84. 

'  See  my  article,  "Native  American  Balladry,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
xxii.  pp.  365-373- 

'  In  my  collection  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  Stales  are  nineteen  versions,  dis- 
tributed as  follows:  Maine,  three;  Vermont,  one;  Massachusetts,  two;  Pennsylvania,  four; 
Ohio,  two;  Wisconsin,  two;  Kansas  and  Dakota,  one  each;  also  one  from  Nova  Scotia. 
The  Kansas  version  is  traced  to  Ohio;  both  Ohio  versions,  to  Vermont.  Professor  Henry 
M.  Belden,  Columbia,  Mo.,  has  collected  a  dozen  versions,  most  of  them  in  the  State 
of  Missouri.     The  Oklahoma  version  is  in  Cowboy  Songs  (edited  by  John  A.  Lomax), 

P-  239- 

*  W.  A.  S.,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  in  a  communication  dated  March  29,  1910. 

'  W.  A.  S.,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  so  testifies  on  the  authority  of  his  mother,  who  is  own  cousin 
to  William  Carter  himself. 


William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer  159 

passed  into  oral  circulation  probably  as  early  as  the  year  1835,^ 
so  that  its  life  as  a  traditional  ballad  covers  little  more  than  three- 
quarters  of  a  century. 

To-day  the  ballad  is  current  under  the  same  conditions  of  trans- 
mission that  govern  all  folk-song,  as  the  acquired  property*  of  the 
singing  folk.  It  is  quite  as  communal  as  the  best  of  the  ancient 
British  ballads.  That  it  has  become  so  widespread  in  its  distribution, 
is  due  largely  to  the  wanderings  of  the  nomadic  Carter  himself,  a 
modern  representative  of  the  old-time  wandering  minstrel.  We  might 
also  speak  of  it  as  a  brief  unwritten  chapter  in  the  history  of  the 
indirect  influence  of  the  Mormon  mo\ement.  Important  "foci  of 
infection,"  as  it  were,  for  the  ballad,  are  in  Vermont,  central  Penn- 
syKania,  northeastern  Ohio,  and  Missouri,  —  places  in  which  it  is 
known  that  Carter  or  some  member  of  his  family  has  tarried.*  It  is 
of  course,  at  this  late  day,  c|uite  be>ond  our  expectation  to  be  able  to 
reco\er  with  any  degree  of  certainty,  or  even  probability,  the  ipsissinia 
verba  of  Carter's  own  composition.  There  is  no  record  whatever  to  show 
that  it  was  ever  printed;  perhaps  it  was  never  even  written  down 
from  the  author's  dictation.  We  may  not  be  far  wrong,  however, 
in  assuming  that  a  version  presently  to  be  put  in  evidence,  said  to  be 
derived  from  a  native  of  \''ermont  "who  knew  that  the  story  was  as 
it  is  related,  taking  i)lace  on  New  Year's  E\e,  and  .  .  .  either  knew 
the  people  spoken  of,  or  those  who  knew  them,"  is  fairl\-  close  to 
Carter's  original.* 

FAIR    ni.VRLOTTE 
(Traditional  text  of  a  ballatJ  conipuscd  by  William  Lorenzo  Carter) 

1.  Fair  Charlotte  lived  on  a  mountain  side. 
In  a  wild  and  lonely  spot, 

No  dwelling  was  for  three  miles  round, 
E.xccpt  her  father's  cot. 

2.  On  many  a  cold  and  wintry  nij;ht, 
Young  swains  were  gathered  there, 
For  her  father  kept  a  social  board. 
And  she  was  very  fair. 

'  The  tjaliail,  of  course,  was  comintsed  before  Carter  lift  Wrniont,  in  iRj.?.  to  join  the 
Mormon  colony  in  Kirtland,  ().  A  KunHa.s  version,  kindly  conununicated  to  nic  by 
Profe»iior  A.  II.  Tolman,  ChicaKo,  111.,  i.t  one  of  u  number  of  ballads  taken  down  from  13.  S., 
Winfield,  Kan.,  whose  father.  K.  II.  I).,  lived  in  Ohio,  and  Irom  whom  I).  S.  K-ained  at  U*ast 
one  ballad  in  18J5. 

'  That  in,  folk-HonK  is  folk-song  solely  |jy  reason  of  its  traditional  currency  among  the 
BinKinK  folk.  Any  definition  by  origin  x*  Ijeside  the  (Miint.  Sec  my  article.  "Irish  Folk- 
SonK."  Journal  of  Ameritan  Folk-lAtre,  vol.  xxiv,  pp.  JJ2-J.U- 

*  Vermont,  of  course,  is  important  as  the  [mct'sown  home;  in  Lancaster,  I'a..  his  cousin 
lives;  northeastern  Ohio  knew  Carter  as  a  mendx-r  of  the  Mormon  colony  at  Kirtland; 
and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  accompanied  Ids  father  to  Missouri  in  18J4. 

*  "Fair  Chorlotte,"  K.  Folk-Sonn^  of  thr  \orth  Allantii  StaUs.  from  L.  P.  S.  Warten, 
O..  as  derived  from  M.  E.  L..  Warren,  (>.,  whose  grandfather  was  tlie  N'ermonter  to  whom 
reference  is  made.  L.  I*.  S..  whose  Kri'tt-Kreat-KranHalln-r  founded  the  village  of  Fair- 
Itavcn,  near  Henson,  Vt..  also  knows  the  ballad. 

VOL.  XXV. — NO.  96. —  It 


i6o  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

3.  Htr  father  loved  to  see  her  dress 
Fine  as  a  city  belle,  — 

She  was  the  only  child  he  had, 
And  he  loved  his  daughter  well, 

4.  On  New  Year's  eve,  when  the  sun  was  set, 
She  gazed  with  a  wistful  eye. 

Out  of  the  frosty  window  forth. 
To  see  the  sleighs  go  by.  > 

5.  She  restless  was,  and  longing  looked, 
Till  a  well  known  voice  she  heard, 
Came  dashing  up  to  her  father's  door. 
Young  Charley's  sleigh  appeared. 

6.  Her  mother  said,  —  "  My  daughter  dear, 
This  blanket  round  you  fold, 

For  't  is  an  awful  night  without, 
And  you'll  be  very  cold." 

7.  "  Oh  nay,  oh  nay,"  young  Charlotte  cried, 
And  she  laughed  like  a  Gypsy  queen, 

"  To  ride  in  blanket  mufifled  up, 
I  never  will  be  seen." 

8.  "  My  woolen  cloak  is  quite  enough. 
You  know  it  is  lined  throughout. 
Besides  I  have  my  silken  shawl. 
To  tie  my  neck  about." 

9.  Her  gloves  and  bonnet  being  on. 
She  jumped  into  the  sleigh. 

And  ofT  they  went,  down  the  mountain  side, 
And  over  the  hills  away.  - 

10.     With  muffled  faces,  silently. 

Five  long,  cold  miles  were  passed. 
When  Charles,  in  few  and  broken  words, 
The  silence  broke  at  last. 

1  N.  A.  S..  version  I,  from  J.  M.  L.,  Mahanoy  City.  Pa.,  has  after  this, 

4a.     At  the  village  inn,  fifteen  miles  off, 
There's  a  merry  ball  to-night, 
The  air  is  piercing  cold  as  death, 
But  her  heart  is  warm  and  light. 

It  appears  also  in  other  versions. 

2  N.  A.  S..  I.  has  after  this, — 

cja.     There's  music  in  the  sound  of  bells, 
As  o'er  the  hills  they  go, 
What  creaking  do  the  runners  make, 
As  they  leave  the  frozen  snow. 

Two  versions  only  have  both  stanzas. 


William  Carter,  the  Bensonton'n  Homer  i6i 

11.  "OhI  such  a  night  I  never  saw, 
My  lines  I  scarce  can  hold," — 

Fair  Charlotte  said,  in  a  feeble  voice, 
"  I  am  exceeding  cold." 

12.  He  cracked  his  whip  and  they  onward  sped, 
Much  faster  than  before, 

Until  five  other  dreary  miles. 
In  silence  they  passed  o'er. 

13.  "  How  fast,"  says  Charles,  "  the  frozen  ice 
Is  gathering  on  my  brow," 

Said  Charlotte,  in  a  weaker  voice, 
"  I'm  growing  warmer  now." 

14.  Thus  on  they  went  through  the  frosty'air, 
And  in  the  cold  starlight, 

Until  the  village  and  bright  ball-room, 
They  did  appear  in  sight. 

15.  Charles  drove  to  the  door,  andjjumping'out. 
He  held  his  hand  to  her, — 

"  Why  sit  you  there  like  a  monument. 
That  has  no  power  to  stir?  " 

16.  He  asked  her  once,  he  asked  her  twice. 
She  answered  never  a  word: 

He  asked  her  for  her  hand  again, 
But  still  she  never  stirred. 

17.  He  took  her  hand  into  his  own. 
Oh  God!  it  was  cold  as  stone! 

He  tore  the  mantle  from  her  brow, 
On  her  face  the  cold  stars  shone. 

18.  Then  quickly  to  the  lighted  hall. 
Her  lifeless  form  he  bore, 

Fair  Charlotte  was  a  frozen  corpse, 
.\iul  luT  lips  spake  never  more. 

ig.      He  threw  himself  down  by  her  side. 
And  the  bitter  tears  did  flow, 
.And  he  said.  ".My  own,  my  youlhful  bride, 
I  never  more  shall  know!" 

20.      He  twined  his  arms  around  her  neck. 
He  kissed  her  marble  br(»w, 

.\nd  his  thoughts  went  back  to  where^she  said. 
"I  am  growing  warmer  now."  ' 

2\.      lie  bore  her  body  to  the  sleigh, 
.\nd  with  it  he  drove  home: 
.And  when  he  reached  her  father's  door, 
Oh!  how  her  |)arentH  mourned! 

'    NJaiiy  versionf*  of  the  liall.nl  imkI  line. 


i62  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

22.     They  mourned  the  loss  of  a  daughter  dear, 
And  Charles  mourned  o'er  her  doom, 
Until  at  last  his  heart  did  break, 
And  they  both  lie  in  one  tomb.' 

This  text  is  a  representative  of  what  may  fairly  be  called  the  Vulgate 
text  of  "  Fair  Charlotte."  Of  the  thirty  versions  of  the  ballad  known 
to  me,  —  a  number  of  which,  however,  are  incomplete,  —  all  but  four 
conform  very  closely  to  it.  Of  these  four,  one  was  taken  down  in 
Hathorne,  Mass.;  another  in  Kansas  City,  Mo.;*  a  third  comes  from 
South  Dakota;'  the  fourth  from  Rome,  Pa.''  By  reason  of  the 
passing  uniqueness  of  certain  stanzas,*  the  Kansas  City  version,  the 
full  text  of  which  is  herewith  printed,  is  extremely  interesting. 

THE    FROZEN    GIRL  « 

Verse  i. 

Young  Charlotte  lived  by  the  mountain  side 

In  a  wild  and  lonely  spot 

No  dwellings  there  for  three  miles  round 

Except  her  father's  cot.' 

2nd 
At  evening  when  their  work  was  o'er, 
Young  swain  would  gather  there 
For  her  father  kept  a  social  board 
And  she  was  very  fair     Rep. 

3rd 
At  the  close  of  a  cold  and  stormy  day 
With  beaming  anxious  eye 
Young  Charlotte  by  the  window  stood 
To  see  the  sleighs  go  by. 

*  Five  versions  only  have  these  concluding  stanzas. 

2  From  J.  G.  H.,  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  as  sung  in  eastern  New  York  about  forty  years 
ago;  1907.     MS.  in  possession  of  Professor  Henry  M.  Beldcn,  Columbia,  Mo. 

*  From  M.  E.  H.,  a  student  at  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  —  a  version  for  which  I  am 
indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Professor  A.  Beatty.     In  it  is  the  following  noteworthy  stanza: 

He  took  her  lily-white  hand  in  his, 
O  God!  't  was  stiff  and  cold. 
He  took  her  bonnet  from  her  head. 
As  down  the  death-sweat  rolled. 

*  See  my  article  "Native  Balladry  in  America,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore, 
vol.  xxii,  pp.  365-373- 

'  Indicated  by  being  printed  in  Italics. 

«  MS.  of  J.  G.  H.,  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  kindly  communicated  to  me  for  this  article  by 
Professor  Belden.     (Copied  verbatim  el  lileratim.) 

'  Note  of  J.  G.  H.     "  In  singing,  the  two  last  lines  of  each  verse  are  repeated." 


William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer  163 

4 

The  snow  had  fallen  all  day  long 
The  wind  to  northward  veered  — 
And  dashing  up  to  the  cottage  door, 
Young  Charlie's  sleigh  appeared. 

(5) 
Charles  drove  a  pair  of  Morgan  blacks, 
That  were  his  special  pride, 
His  cutter  had  just  space  enough 
For  Lottie  at  his  side. 

(6) 

"At  a  village  inn  fifteen  miles  off 
There's  a  merry  ball  to-night" 
The  air  is  freezing  cold  as  death 
But  her  heart  is  warm  and  light 

(7) 
Her  father  just  then  coming  in^ 
It  took  not  long  to  gain 
Consent  from  him  and  his  good  wife 
For  Charles,  their  favorite  swain. 

(8) 

Her  mother  said,  "My  daughter  dear 
This  blanket  round  you  fold" 
For  it  is  a  dreadful  night  abroad 
You'll  take  your  death  of  cold 

(9) 
Oh  no!  Oh   no!  Young  Charlotte  cried 
For  she  felt  like  a  Gypsy  Queen 
To  ride  in  blankets  nuit'llcd  up 
I  never  can  be  seen. 

(10) 
Five  miles  along  the  mountain  roads 
Charles  drove  his  blacks  with  pride 
lie  was  as  proud  as  any  king 
With  Lottie  (it  his  side 

(w) 
Said  Charles  such  a  night  I  never  saw 
The  reins  I  scarce  can  h(jl(I 
When  Charlotte  said  in  a  fcible  voire 
I  am  exceeding  cold 

'  E.  A.  H..  from  whom  ihr  Soulli   Dakota  v<Tsii>n  was  obtained,  adds  lliat  there  was 
also  a  stanza  iH-KiiiniiiK 

Hit  (atlicr  he  was  a  dark,  stern  man. 


1 64  Journal  of  A  merican  Folk-Lore 

lie  cracked  his  whip  urged  on  his  team 

Much  faster  than  before 

Until  at  length  five  weary  miles 

In  silence  they  passed  o'er. 

(13) 
He  swung  his  arms,  chirped  to  his  team 
Dashed  frost  from  beard   &  brow 
When  Charlotte  said  in  a  voice  quite  low 
I'm  growing  warmer  now. 

An  interesting  point  remains  to  be  considered ;  namely,  the  signifi- 
cance of  "  Fair  Charlotte"  for  our  conception  of  the  ballad  as  a  species 
of  folk-song.  Defined  in  its  simplest  possible  terms,  a  ballad  is  the 
record  of  action  cast  in  poetical  form;  a  folk-ballad,  consisting  of  text 
and  melody,^  is  a  ballad  traditionally  current  among  the  singing  folk. 
Under  this  definition  there  is  no  question  of  the  right  of  Carter's 
"Fair  Charlotte,"  Saunders's  "Casey  Jones,"  =^  and  other  items  of 
American  balladry,  to  be  reckoned  among  folk-ballads.  Yet  into  this 
apparently  very  simple  situation  enter  at  once  certain  complications. 
Though  it  is  hardly  germane  to  a  general  treatment  of  the  subject  of 
folk-balladry  to  deal  with  texts  apart  from  melodies,^  we  have  still 
the  right  to  analyze  ballads  as  literature.  The  result  of  such  analysis 
has  been  the  discovery  that  not  all  folk-ballads  are  alike.  Two  distinct 
species  are  now  recognized,*  set  off  from  each  other  by  a  marked  di- 
vergence of  literary  convention.  That  is,  we  have,  in  the  first  place, 
the  "popular"  ballad,^  notable  for  its  dramatic  impressiveness,  its 
free  use  of  abrupt  dialogue  and  change  in  situation,  not  to  speak  of 

«  All  folk-ballads  are  sung,  and  always  have  been.  Recited  ballads  are  the  product 
of  accident.  A  folk-singer  may  be  unwilling  to  sing  because  of  age  or  infirmity,  or  before 
strangers. 

2  "Casey  Jones"  (.Railroad  Man's  Magazine,  May,  1908,  November,  1910,  December, 
191 1,  April,  1912)  was  composed  and  sung  by  Wallace  .Saunders,  a  negro  laborer.  Its 
subject  is  the  last  run  of  John  Luther  Jones,  nicknamed  "Casey  Jones,"  an  engineer  on 
the  Chicago  &  New  Orleans  Limited,  who,  on  March  18,  1900,  lost  his  life  in  a  rear-end 
collision  with  a  freight-train  at  Vaughans,  Miss.  It  is  current  in  many  parts  of  the  States, 
and  has  lately  been  recorded  in  the  Canal  zone. 

'  Mention  may  here  be  made  of  the  melodies  to  "Fair  Charlotte."  Eight  are  known. 
Of  these,  six  are  sets  of  the  original  air  to  which  Carter  himself  sang  the  ballad,  another 
remote  set  of  which  is  the  hymn-tune  "  Golden  Hill."  Five  of  the  sets  are  closely  related; 
the  sixth,  belonging  to  the  unique  Kansas  City  version  of  J.  G.  H..  being  more  distant. 
The  seventh  and  eighth,  from  Maine  and  Nova  Scotia  respectively,  are  sets  of  an  Irish 
air,  —  the  same  as  that  from  which  is  derived  the  melody  to  the  students'  song,   "Michae* 

Roy." 

*  H.  M.  Belden,  "The  Relation  of  Balladry  to  Folk-Lore,"  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  vol.  xxiv.  pp.  1-13.  "The  ballad  .  .  .  has  two  main  types.  .  .  .  Both  ...  are 
popular  in  character  and  in  vogue." 

»  For  instance.  "Earl  Brand."  or  "Lord  Randall." 


William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer  165 

its  characteristic  iterative  style.*  This  species  is  not  by  any  means 
extinct,  and  may  well  outlast  its  later-born  relative,  the  "vulgar" 
ballad,  so  called.-  Conventional  narration,  in  all  its  dead-level 
dulness,  is  the  touchstone  of  the  genuine  in  vulgar  balladry,  as  turned 
out  by  the  ton  from  the  presses  of  Pitts,  Such,  and  Jemmy  Catnatch. 
F"urthermore,  h(nve\cr  much  we  may  call  into  question  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  difference,  or  doubt  that  it  bears  witness  to  any  actual 
difference  in  origin;  however  much  we  may  deny  the  right  of  the 
critic  to  establish  upon  its  basis  a  ballad  aristocracy,'  —  we  cannot 
deny  that  the  difference  exists. 

Now  as  to  "Fair  Charlotte"  itself.  A  perusal  of  the  text,  as  given 
in  a  preceding  paragraph  of  this  article,  would  leave  us  little  hesitation 
as  to  where  to  place  the  ballad.  We  should,  perforce,  include  it  in  the 
second  category',  as  the  American  representative  of  the  British  "vul- 
gar" species.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  folk  is  not  content  to 
let  it  stay  there.  Evidence  is  at  hand  to  show  that,  under  the  influence 
of  seventy-five  years  of  communal  re-creation,*  Carter's  ballad  has 
develo[K'd  something  more  than  impersonality  of  authorship,  and 
multiplicity  of  version,  both  as  to  text  and  melody.  It  has  earned 
the  right,  provided  there  be  a  ballad  aristocracy,  with  its  noble  blood 
(letermiiicd  by  a  critical  test,  to  enrol  itself  in  the  number  of  the  no- 
bility; that  is,  it  has  begun,  at  least,  to  acquire  an  iterative  style, 
not  only  in  the  melody,'  but,  what  is  more  important  for  us  here,  in 
the  text  as  well.' 

Herewith  may  be  cited  in  full  the  acquired  characteristics  of  the 
versions  in  cjuestion.^ 

'  That  is.  the  cfTcctive  repetition  of  suRgestive  phrases,  verses,  or  stanzas.  The 
iterative  style  may  be  parallel,  as  in  Hebrew  poetry;  or  climactic,  as  in  the  ancient  ballad. 
Even  Niet/sche  recognized  its  effectiveness  (see  especially  Thus  Spake  Zarathustra,  The 
Vea  and  Amen  Lay). 

•  This  unfortunate  name  it  seems  impossible  to  better:  it  carries  with  it  no  connotation 
of  vulgarity  in  the  language  or  subject-matter. 

'  That  is,  to  regard  the  three  hundred  and  six  "  popular"  ballads  as  having  an  exclusive 
right  to  the  name  "ballad." 

•  By  "communal  re-creation"  is  meant  the  process  of  passing  through  the  minds  of  a 
large  numln-r  of  folk-singers,  gcnxl,  ba'l,  and  indifferent,  which  i.ssues  in  certain  well- 
known  effects  ui)on  the  text  and  melocJy  of  all  folk-s4)ngs. 

•  (iallad  melodies  (this  applies  cjuiti*  as  much  to  the  melodies  of  vulgar  as  of  iK>pular 
ballads)  j)os,Hess  an  important,  if  long  unrecognized,  characteristic  feature,  —  the  climactic 
iteration  of  partial  mehnlies  (see  my  artich-  "Folk-Music  in  America,"  Journol  of  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxii,  pp.  72  81). 

•  This  is  not  unprecedented,  as  will  later  ap|)ear. 

^  For  convenience,  the  references  to  re-created  stanzas  are  taken  in  the  order  in  which 
the  corresponding  stanzas  cKcur  in  the  archetyiK-. 


1 66  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Stanzas  4,  5  (Columbia,  Mo.') 
'T  was  New  Year's  eve,  and  the  sun  was  low, 

High  beams  her  lingering  eye, 
As  she  to  the  frozen  window  went, 

To  watch  the  sleighs  go  by. 

7/;,fj/;  beams  her  lingering  eye, 

When  a  well-known  voice  she  heard, 
As  she  to  the  frozen  window  went. 

Young  Charles  in  his  sleigh  appeared. 

An  effective  iterative  style  is  produced  by  subconscious  assimilation  of 

language.* 

Stanza  40  (Hathorne,  Mass.^) 

"In  yonder  village,  miles  away. 
There's  a  merry  ball  to-night, 
Although  it  is  extremely  cold. 
Our  hearts  are  warm  and  light." 

Here  is  a  direct  change  from  a  descriptive  passage  to  unintroduced 

dialogue. 

Stanzas  9a-i  I  (Cameron,  Mo.'') 

"There  is  music  in  the  sound  of  bells, 

As  o'er  the  hills  we  go, 
What  a  creaking  noise  those  runners  make, 

As  they  glide  o'er  the  frozen  snow. 

"  Such  a  night  as  this  I  never  seen. 
The  reins  I  scarce  can  hold." 

In  this  case,  a  passage  of  continuous  abrupt  dialogue  is  produced  by 
the  loss  of  stanza  10,  introductory  to  dialogue,  and  the  change  of  9a 
from  description  to  dialogue.  In  no  other  version  has  the  change  been 
so  marked,  though  in  four  others  the  dropping-out  of  stanza  10  has  left 
the  dialogue  in  stanza  11  unintroduced.^ 

Stanza  10  (Rome,  Pa.^) 
Along  the  bleak  and  dreary  way. 

How  keen  the  winds  do  blow! 
The  stars  did  never  shine  so  bright. 

How  creaks  the  frozen  snow! 

'  Recollected  by  J.  F.,  kindly  communicated  to  me  by  Professor  Belden. 
'  By  an  exactly  analogous  process,  folk-music  develops  an  iterative  style  (see  my  article 
"The  Origin  of  Folk-Melodies,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxiii,  pp.  440-445. 

•  "Fair  Charlotte,"  E,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States. 

•  From  W.  L.  H.,  for  which  I  am  indebted  to  Professor  Belden. 

'  In  one  Missouri  version,  that  of  J.  F.  (see  note  i),  iteration  occurs, 

"Such  a  night,  such  a  night,  I  never  saw!" 

•  "Fair  Charlotte."  D,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.  For  the  full  text 
see  my  article  "Native  Balladry  in  America,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxii, 
PP-  365-373- 


William  Carter,  the  Bensontown  Homer  167 

Along  the  bleak  and  dreary  way. 

Five  lonely  miles  they  passed, 
When  Charles  in  a  few  and  frozen  words 

The  silence  broke  at  last. 

This  iterative  passage  is  one  of  the  several  peculiarities  of  this  \crsion. 

Stanza  14  (West  Plains,  Mo.') 
This  on  the  way  through  the  frost  and  snow 

While  the  wintry  stars  shone  bright, 
"Oh,  now  we  are  to  the  village  inn. 

And  the  ball-room  is  in  sight." 

This  version  is  unicjiic  in  the  bold  chan.c;e  from  description  to  un- 
introduced  dialogue. 

Stanzas  15-16  (South  Dakota') 

"Why  sit  you  there  like  a  monument 

That  has  no  power  to  stir? 
He  asked  her  once,  he  asked  her  twice, 

But  received  no  answer  from  her, 
lie  asked  her  once,  he  asked  her  twice, 

But  she  answered  not  a  word. 
He  asked  her  for  her  hand  again,' 

And  still  she  never  stirred. 

The  iteration  is  accjuired  !)>•  the  simple  act  of  subconscious  repetition 
of  the  phrase  containing  the  thought  most  impressive  to  the  hearer. 

Stanza  18  (Hathorne,  Mass.*) 
A  lifeless  corpse  youn^  Charlotte  was, 

Por  she  froze  by  the  mountain  side, 
A  lifeless  corpse  young  Charles  he  bore, 

Into  the  inn's  fireside. 

The  admirable  ffferti\eness  of  the  iteration  in  this  passage  is  (juite 
in  keeping  with  the  style  of  the  ancient  ballad. 

It  might  be  objected  that  these  examples  are  few;  \et  the\'  are 
all  that,  imder  the  circumstances,  we  have  any  right  to  expect,  if  not 
more,  ("onuminal  re-creation  is  not  a  rapid  process,  nor  a  uniform 
one.  Carter's  ballad  has  been  subject  to  it  for  le>s  than  a  century, 
whereas  the  ancient  ballads  mav  well  ha\e  been  in  oral  circulation  for 
a  period  of  several  centuries.      I'urthermore,  whereas  their  hi^lory  has 

'  F"rom  MS.  ni  M.  I).  Wmt  Plninit.  Mo.,  kindly  communicntrd  to  mc  by  I'rofcMor 
Bfldrn. 

'  F'rom  M.  li.  H..  kindly  contril>ut(*d  to  inc  liy  rrofciwor  Bcally. 
•  In  N.  A.  S..  vcrition  E,  ihis  line  np(>rar!t  ait  intriKlucrd  dinloguc, — 

"Give  me  your  hand  I"  he  i«ui<l  again. 
«  "Fair  Charlotle. "  E.  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States. 


l68  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

been  laid  in  the  golden  age  of  folk-song,  it  has  Ijccn  the  fate  of  the 
American  ballad  to  struggle  into  life  during  a  period  of  decadence, 
when  the  fashion  of  folk-singing  was  on  the  decrease.  And  it  being 
admitted,  as  it  must  be,  that  the  iterative  style  is  a  very  old  form  of 
expression,  we  should  expect  exactly  what  we  find  to  be  the  case; 
namely,  that  reversions  to  this  primitive  form  —  literary  atavisms, 
as  we  may  call  them,  traceable  to  the  subconscious  action  of  communal 
re-creation  —  should  be  numerous  in  the  ancient  British  ballad,  and 
sporadic  in  the  late-born  child  of  the  American  folk-muse. 

Still  another  objection  must  be  met  and  answered.  In  the  vulgar 
ballad  of  Britain,  a  type  much  older  than  our  native  ballad,  only  the 
faintest  traces  of  the  "ballad  style,"  as  far  as  the  text  is  concerned, 
grow  out  of  communal  re-creation.*  Yet  the  very  fact  that  the 
iterative  style,  while  generally  present  in  the  melodies,'*  is  absent  in 
the  texts,  should  lead  us  to  suspect  the  presence  of  some  factor  inhibi- 
tive  of  communal  re-creation  with  respect  to  the  text  only.  This 
factor  is  the  busy  press  of  Jemmy  Catnatch  and  his  kind,  who  prac- 
tically never  printed  melodies.  The  cheapness  and  ready  accessibility 
of  the  broadsides  tended  to  produce  and  preserve  a  "vulgate  text," 
while  the  singers  were  left  free  to  vary  the  melody  according  as  the 
subconscious  fancy  led  them:  hence  the  absence,  except  in  sporadic 
cases,  of  the  iterative  style  from  the  text  of  the  vulgar  ballad  in  oral  tra- 
dition. The  ancient  ballads,  on  the  contrary,  were  many  of  them  never 
printed.  Such  as  were  printed  and  circulated  in  broadside  form  had 
been  in  oral  circulation  so  long  that  their  characteristic  style  was  fixed. 
It  has  been  the  good  fortune  of  Carter's  ballad  that,  like  "Lord  Ran- 
dall "  and  some  others,  it  never  fell  into  the  maw  of  the  broadside  press. 

In  the  last  analysis,  it  seems  that  much  of  our  "ballad  problem" 
has  been  one  of  our  own  making.  We  can  now  be  sure  that  folk-song 
and  folk-ballad  can  be  accounted  for  on  the  basis  of  individual  in- 
\ention,  with  subsequent  communal  re-creation;  moreover,  that  the 
characteristic  reversion  to  the  primitive  iterative  style,  with  its  dra- 
matic impressiveness,  develops  in  ballads  quite  spontaneously,  as  an 
effect  of  continual  folk-singing.  In  "Fair  Charlotte"  we  have  laid 
before  us  a  history,  in  miniature,  of  folk-song  and  folk-ballad  the  world 
over.  So  much  do  we  owe  to  the  humble  genius  of  William  Lorenzo 
Carter,  the  village  Homer  of  old  Bensontown. 

F ELTON  Hall. 

Cambridge,  Mass. 
'  It  does,  however,  appear  to  some  extent  in  versions  re-created  by  the  folk-singers 
of  the  Southeastern  States,  etc. 

'  See  my  article  "Folk-Music  in  America,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
xxii,   pp.  72  8i. 


A  Texas  Version  of  "  The  White  Captive  "  169 

A   TEXAS   \ERSION    OF    "THE   WHITF-:   CAPTIVE" 

BY    CHARLES    PEAB(JUV 

Two  \cTsions  of  this  ballad  have  been  published,  —  one  in  the 
Journal  of  American  1  itlk-Lore  for  1909,  pp.  256  and  257,  and  edited 
by  r..  F'.  Will;  and  the  other  in  "Cowboy  Songs"  (New  \"ork,  1910), 
by  John  A.  Loniax. 

Professor  Lomax's  version  is  by  far  the  most  complete,  and  probably 
approaches  nearer  to  the  original  form  than  either  of  the  others.  It 
contains  fourteen  \erses,  against  ten  and  a  half  in  the  present  form. 

In  addition  to  the  jiresentation,  there  is  not  miuii  lo  he  said.  In 
both  of  the  longer  versions  there  is  repetition  with(jut  any  addition  to 
the  story,  which  bears  the  marks  of  being  handed  down  from  mouth 
to  mouth. 

The  names  of  the  hero  and  heroine  in  Mr.  Lomax's  version  arc 
Albon  and  Amanda,  while  in  the  present  \ersion  the\'  are  Albion  and 
Amandia.  It  seems  likeK  that  the  original  \ersion  contained  "  .Xlijion  " 
and  "Amanda,"  which  became  "Amandia"  by  a  sort  of  attraction. 
Changes  in  familiar  names  are  not  uncommon;  as,  for  instance.  "  Elen- 
<ler"  and  "Alcnder"  in  the  American  versions  of  "Lord  Thomas."  ' 

As  regards  the  ballad  as  a  whole,  its  content  places  it  somewhere  in 
the  Appalachian  region,  whence  it  went  with  the  emigrants  to  the 
West;  for  all  three  versions  iiaii  from  Texas.  The  use  of  thi-  word 
"cot"  for  "cabin"  gives  the  impression  of  a  literary,  if  not  ICuropean 
origin.  So  far,  the  only  luiropean  cycle  suggested  by  it  is  the  "  Maiden 
Freed  from  the  Gallows"  (Child,  No. 95).  In  the  Continentcd  \ersions 
of  the  c>-cle  there  are  the  motives  of  the  abduction  and  of  the  self- 
sacrificing  Io\er,  but  the  similarit\'  ends  there. 

The  ballad  in  ([uc-stion  surcK'  harks  i)a(k  to  one  of  the  earl\-  wars 
of  this  country,  where  the  Indians  had  an  I'',ii^lishman  for  a  leader. 
Possibly  the  massacre  of  \V\'oming  in  the  Ke\-ohition.iry  W.ir  may  be 
faintly  echoed  here. 

The  music,  reduced  to  its  inter\al  order,  presents  a  major  scale 
lacking  its  fourth,  and  ma\'  be  a  suggestion  of  the  Celtic  pentatonic 
scale  or  r)f  the  hexacliDrdal  sc.ile  lacking  its  U-ading  tone,  that  sU|)it- 
sede<l  it  in  the  lifteentii  century  in  Scotland. 

THE    WMITF.    CATTIVK 


^Tf^^^^^^^^^m 


•  Compare  (i.  L.  KittrrdKc.  in  Journal  of  Amfrmnt  l-olk'ljnrt,  Nc».  LXXI.X.  p.  354; 
and  tlic  Hrrra  Quarlrrly  (or  y\pril,  1905. 


170  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

1.  The  sun  has  gone  down  o'er  the  hills  in  the  west, 

And  its  last  beams  have  faded  o'er  the  mossy  hill's  crest; 

The  beauty  of  nature,  the  charms  of  the  fair, 

A  maiden  was  bound  with  Iut  white  bosom  l)arc. 

2.  At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  Amandia  did  sigh 
At  the  hoot  of  an  owl  or  a  catamount  cry, 

At  the  howl  of  some  wolf  from  its  long  granite  cell 
Or  the  crush  of  some  dead  [forest]  tree  as  it  fell. 

3.  The  camp-fire  was  kindled  and  fanned  by  the  breeze, 
And  its  red  embers  shone  o'er  the  evergreen  trees; 
But  fierce  was  the  looks  of  that  wild  savage  scene, 
The  light  o'er  their  features  in  entrance  did  gleam. 

4.  The  watch-fire  was  kindled,  and  its  red  light  did  glare. 
This  maiden  was  bound  with  her  white  bosom  bare. 
Around  her  stood  this  mercerless  throng, 
Impatient  to  join  in  the  war-dancing  song. 

5.  They  brought  out  then  the  captive  all  friendless,  forlorn, 
Her  face  bathed  in  blood  and  her  garments  all  torn. 
She  counted  vengeance  in  the  face  of  the  foe. 

And  sighed  for  the  time  when  her  suff'rings  might  close. 

6.  They  waited  a  moment  while  they  gazed  on  the  fair, 
Whose  dark  hazel  eyes  were  uplifted  in  prayer. 
And  down  on  her  bosom  her  dark  locks  did  flow', 
Which  hid  from  the  gazers  her  bosom  of  snow. 

7.  The  chief  of  these  warriors,  young  Albion,  drew  near 
With  an  eye  like  an  eagle  and  a  step  like  a  deer. 

"Forbear,"  cried  young  Albion,  "your  freedom  to  crave," 
Gave  a  sigh  for  her  suff'ring,  and  a  tear  o'er  her  grave. 

8.  "Forbear,"  cried  young  Albion,  "your  tortures  forbear! 

This  maiden  shall  live,  by  the  heavens  I  sw'ear! 
To-night  if  a  victim  shall  burn  at  your  tree, 
Young  Albion,  your  leader,  your  victim  shall  be." 

9.  At  the  dawn  of  the  evening,  at  the  close  of  the  day, 
A  birch-tree  canoe  was  seen  gliding  away. 
Swifter  than  the  wild  duck  that  skims  o'er  the  tide 
Young  Albion  and  Amandia  together  did  ride. 

10.  At  the  dawn  of  next  morning  a  white  cot  was  seen 
With  its  blue  curling  smoke  o'er  the  wild  willows  green. 
But  great  was  the  joy  when  she  stepped  on  the  shore 
To  embrace  her  kind  father  and  mother  once  more. 

11.  But  all  that  he  asked  was  kindness  and  food, 

From  the  parents  of  Amandia  to  the  chief  of  the  woods. 
Cambridge,  Mass. 


Five  Old-Country  Ballads  171 


FIVE   OLD- COUNTRY    BALLADS' 

Of  the  following  ballads,  ihc  first  two  are  from  the  recollection  of 
Miss  Lucy  R.  Laws  of  Christian  College,  Columbia,  Mo.  She  learned 
them  in  her  childhood  in  Mercer  Count\-,  Kentuck\',  from  a  Shakeress 
who  was  a  nurse  in  the  family.  Concerning  "Andy  Bardan"  she 
writes,  "The  ballad  came  to  us  from  the  Shakeress's  son-in-law.  He 
was  a  pensioner  (jf  the  Ci\il  War,  brought  up  in  Indiana,  I  think,  but 
of  the  old  Kentucky  Sims  family.  He  came  to  Mercer  County  in  the 
late  sixties  to  look  up  an  orphan  half-sister  who  was  a  step-daughter 
of  the  Shakeress.  He  introduced  the  ballad  among  the  children  of  the 
neighborhood  about  that  time.  The  Shakeress  had  been  a  nurse  in 
our  family,  hence  we  had  the  benefit  of  the  songs.  Charlie  Sims,  the 
singer,  became  a  well-known  figure  in  the  counts',  and  died  in  Harrods- 
burg,  a  pensioner  upon  the  Go\ernment  and  upon  the  charity  of  the 
people.  On  one  side  he  was  connected  with  a  large  and  well-known 
family  in  West  Mercer  (the  hill  region)  and  adjoining  counties;  on 
the  other  side  he  must  have  been  of  very  obscure  and  undesirable 
extraction.  I  always  supposed  that  he  heard  the  ballad  while  in  army 
service,    though    the   Sims    family    might   well    have    preser\ed    folk 

ballads. Fhe    Gyptian    Laddie"    is    also    from    the    Shakeress's 

repertory;  though  Miss  Laws  tells  Professor  Belden  that  she  heard 
portions  of  it  in  Columbus,  Ind.,  in  1869.  The  tune  was  entirely 
different,  and  the  ballad  altogether  suggestive  of  conscious  coarseness: 

"Last  night  she  slept  in  a  warm  feather  bed 
And  in  her  arms  her  hal)>-; 
To-nij;ht  she  sleeps  the  Devil  knows  when-, 
In  the  arms  of  Gypsy  Davy." 

Chorus 
"  Hoops  now's  all  the  go, 
Sets  thf  darkies  crazy; 
This  is  the  way  we  all  shall  go 
Al<jng  o'  (iypsy  Davy."  * 

I.       ANDV    IIAKDAN' 

Three  brothers  in  old  Scotland  did  dwell, 
Three  loving  brothers  were  they; 
They  all  east  lots  to  sec  which  of  them 
Should  go  robbing  around  the  salt  .sea. 

'  Ndh.  I  (fir!tt  two  vi-miont).  2,  3.  4.  were  cnntril)Ut«Ml  ami  cilintl  liy  Profcjiiwr  II.  M. 
Bcldcn.  Ill  thf  Univrrsity  «>(  Mi«t!M>uri,  Culuml>ia,  Mo.;  the  third  veinion  trf  No.  i  was 
runtrtbutrd  l>y  I'rcjfciw«ir  George  B.  VVooilsi.  of  Miami  University,  Oxford.  O.;  N.>  c  t>y 
Dr.  Alma  Blount,  of  the  Stale  Normal  College.  Ypsilanti.  Mich.  —  G.  L.  K. 

•  Sometimes  "I3avy-o." 

*  Compare  Child  250,  E.  which  U  also  from  oral  tradition  in  America:  but  "Andy 
Bardan"  is  nearer  than  Child's  E  tf)  "Sir  Andrew  Barton."  since  it  has  kept  the  King's 


172  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

The  lot  fell  on  to  Andy  Bardan, 
The  youngest  of  the  three, 
For  to  maintain  the  other  two 
A-robbing  around  the  salt  sea. 

He  had  not  sailed  very  many  long  nights 

Before  a  ship  he  did  spy; 

It  sailed  far  off,  it  sailed  far  off, 

And  then  it  came  sailing  close  by. 

"Who's  there,  who's  there?"  said  Andy  Bardan, 
"Who's  there  that  sails  so  nigh?" 
"\Vc  are  the  rich  merchants  from  old  England; 
If  no  offense,  let  us  pass  by." 

"Oh  no!  oh   no!"  said  Andy  Bardan, 

"Oh  no,  that  never  can  be! 

Your  ship  and  your  cargo  we'll  have,  my  boys, 

And  your  bodies  sink  in  the  salt  sea." 

The  news  came  into  King  Henry 
(For  it  was  him  they  crowned) 
His  ship  and  his  cargo  both  were  lost 
And  all  his  merry  men  drowned. 

"Go  build  a  ship  both  wide  and  deep. 
And  build  it  safe  and  secure. 
And  if  Andy  Bardan  you  do  not  bring  in, 
Your  lives  shall  no  longer  endure." 

They  had  not  sailed  very  many  long  nights 

Before  a  ship  they  did  spy; 

It  sailed  far  off,  it  sailed  far  off. 

And  then  it  came  sailing  close  by. 

"Who's  there?     Who's  there?"  said  Cai)tain  Charles  Stewart, 

"  W'ho's  there  that  sails  so  nigh?" 

"We  are  the  bold  robbers  from  old  Scotland; 

If  no  offense,  let  us  pass  by." 

"Oh  no!  oh   no!"  said  Captain  Charles  Stewart, 
"Oh  no!  that  never  can  be; 
Your  ship  and  your  cargo  we'll  have,  my.  boys. 
And  your  bodies  sink  in  the  salt  sea." 

"Peel  on!  peel  on!"  said  Andy  Bardan, 

And  loud  the  cannon  did  roar; 

And  Captain  Charles  Stewart  took  Andy  Bardan, 

He  took  him  to  Fair  England's  shore. 

name  as  Henry,  not  George,  and  represents  the  pirate  as  conquered  and  taken  back  to 
England.     In  "Sir  Andrew  Barton"  he  is  killed,  and  liis  head  is  carried  back  as  a  trophy. 


Five  Old-Country  Ballads  173 

"What  now,  what  now,"  said  Andy  Hardan, 
"What  now  my  fate  it  shall  be! 
The  gallows  are  ready  for  Andy  Bardan, 
The  bold  robber  around  the  salt  sea. 

"Go  dig  my  grave  both  wide  and  deep, 
And  dig  it  close  to  the  sea; 
And  tell  my  brothers  as  they  pass  by, 
I'm  done  robbing  around  the  salt  sea." 

2.       THli    (.VITIAN    LADDIE    (Child,    200)' 

"O  would  you  leave  your  house  and  home, 
O  would  you  leave  your  honey? 
O  would  you  leave  your  three  little  babes 
To  go  with  the  Gyptian  laddie?" 

Chorus 
Raddle-um-a-ding,  a-ding,  ding,  ding, 
Raddle-um-a-ding-a-dar\-, 
Raddle-uni-a-ding,  a-ding,  ding,  ding, 
Raddle-um-a-ding-a-dary  {or,  She's  gone  with  the  Gyptian  laddie!) 

"O  yes.  I'd  leave  my  house  and  home, 
O  yes,  I'd  leave  my  honey, 

0  yes,  I'd  leave  my  three  little  babes 
To  go  with  the  Gyptian  laddie!" 

The  old  man  came  home  that  night. 
Inquiring  for  his  honey; 
The  maid  came  tripping  along  the  hall, — 
"She's  gone  with  the  Gyptian  laddie!" 

"Go  saddle  for  me  my  milk-white  steed, 
Go  bridle  for  me  my  brownie; 
I'll  ride  all  night  and  I'll  ride  all  day, 
I'll  overtake  my  honey." 

"O  come  go  back  with  me.  my  love, 
(io  back  with  me,  my  honey; 
I'll  lock  y(ni  up  in  a  chamber  so  high. 
Where  the  Gyptian  can't  come  near  you." 

"I  won't  go  back  with  you,  my  love, 

1  won't  go  back,  my  homy; 

I'd  rather  have  one  kiss  from  the  Gyplian's  lips 
Than  all  your  land  and  moncx ." 


•  A  vrmion  rr<.m  Mi^Miiiri  wa»  prinu-tl  m  il„-  J„i,rf,„l ,./  Amrruan  Folk-Lore.  v..|.  xix. 
pp.  294.  395- 

»  FofKottcn  slanzas.  in  which  he  liid^  hor  nirip  ofT  h.r  (iiury.  afur  whidi  thr  (optian 
casts  her  ofT. 


174  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

"Last  night  I  slept  in  my  fine  feather  bed, 

And  in  my  arms  my  dearie; 

Tonight  I  sleep  in  an  old   .   .   . 

And  the  Gyptian  won't  come  near  me."  ' 

Another  version  conies  to  me  through  Miss  G.  M.  Hamilton  from  D. 
Hogan  of  the  West  Plains  (Mo.)  High  School,  who  got  it  "from  an  old 
lady." 

BLACK    J.VCK    D.WY 

"Come  go  with  me,  nn-  prelt>-  little  i)ink, 
Come  go  with  me,  my  honey; 
Come  go  with  me  to  a  distant  land 
Where  we  never  will  need  for  money, 
Where  we  never  will  need  for  money." 


"The  river  slow,  the  heather  bright. 
The  sky  is  low  and  hazy, 
But  ere  the  morning  dawns  again 
You'll  be  gone  with  Black  Jack  Davy, 
You'll  be  gone  with  Black  Jack  Davy. 


"  Go  bring  me  out  my  high  heel  shoes 
That's  made  of  Spanish  leather, 
And  I  will  wear  them  out  to-day 
For  flowers  at  the  distant  heather. 
For  flowers  at  the  distant  heather." 


"  Go  bring  me  out  my  milk-white  horse 
Which  rides  so  light  and  steady; 
ril  ride  all  day  and  Fll  ride  all  night 
Till  I  overtake  my  lady." 

Still  another  version  was  communicated  in  December,  191 1,  by 
Professor  George  R.  Woods,  of  Miami  University,  Oxford,  O.,  who 
had  it  from  one  of  liis  i)ui)ils,  Mr.  C.  V.  Sensenbaugh.  The  ballad  was 
learned  by  Mr.  Sensenbaugh's  grandmother,  before  1850,  from  a 
family  named  Wolf.  Mr.  Sensenbaugh  says  that  "lonely"  is  some- 
times heard  instead  of  "shady"  in  stanza  3.  He  also  has  a  single  line 
("Surroimdcd  by  the  i^and  of  Gypsies")  which  seems  to  belong  to  an 
additional  stanza,  though  it  is  sometimes  sung  in  place  of  the  last  line 
of  the  last  stanza. 

THE    GYPSY    DAVY 

I.     A  Gypsy  riding  o'er  the  plain, 
He  sang  so  loud  and  clearly; 
He  sang  and  he  sang,  till  he  made  the  valley  ring, 
And  he  charmed  the  heart  of  a  lady. 
'  Or  "And  the  Oyptians  all  around  nie." 


Five  Old-Country  Ballads  175 

2.  "  Will  you  go  with  me,  my  bonnie  a  lass, 

Will  you  go  with  me,  my  honey? 
And  I  will  swear  to  the  sword  that  hangs  by  my  side 
You  shall  never  want  tor  money." 

3.  He  slipped  on  his  high-heek-d  boots 

Made  out  of  Si)anish  leather; 
She  slipped  on  her  low-cut  shoes, 
And  awav  they  tripped  together. 

4.  When  the  master  he  came  home  that  night 

Inquiring  for  his  lady. 
The  servant  made  him  a  bold  reply, 
"She's  gone  with  the  Gyi^sy  Davy." 

5.  "Go  saddle  me  my  old  gray  horse. 

The  black  one's  not  so  speedie; 
I'll  ride  all  day  and  I'll  ride  all  night 
Until  I  find  my  lady." 

6.  He  rode  and  he  rode  till  he  came  to  black  sea, 

Where  it  looked  so  dark  and  shady; 
The  tears  came  trickling  down  his  cheeks 
When  there  he  hehtid  his  lady. 

7.  "Will  you  forsake  >our  house  and  lot? 

\\  ill  you  forsake  your  baby? 
Will  you  forsake  your  new-wedded  lord 
And  go  with  the  Gypsy  Davy?" 

8.  "  \'es,  I'll  forsake  my  house  and  lot; 

Yes,  I'll  forsake  my  baby; 
Yes,  I'll  forsake  my  new-wedded  lord 
And  go  with  the  Ciypsy  Davy. 

9.  "Last  night  I  slei)t  on  my  own  feather-bed, 

And  in  my  arms  my  bal)y; 
To-night  I'll  sleep  in  the  low  wilderness 
In  the  arms  of  my  Gypsy  Davy. 

10.     "Last  night  I  slept  on  my  own  featlur-bed, 
And  in  my  arms  my  baby; 
To-night  I'll  sleep,  the  Lord  knows  where. 
Hut  with  my  Gypsy  Davy." 

,V       HANt.UM    AND   TIIK    HOAR    (Child.    iH) 

Sonu-  fr.igments  of  this  were  iirintcd  in  this  Joiirnal,  vol.  .\ix,  p.  235. 
The  followiii}^  version  was  written  out  for  Professor  Hclden  hy  Pro- 
fcss<ir  ("».  C*.  Rroadlu-ad  of  C'oliimliia,  Mo.,  who  till'^  liim  lu-  has  known 
it  for  nearly  sixty  years. 

"There  is  a  wild  boar  in  these  woods 
Dillum  do-uti  dtllum 

VOL.  XXV. NO.  96. —  li 


176  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

There  is  a  wild  boar  in  these  woods 

Dill II VI  down 
There  is  a  wild  boar  in  these  woods 
Who'll  eat  your  flesh  and  drink  your  blood." 

Kobhy  ky  cuddle  down  killy  quo  cum. 

"Oh  how  shall  I  this  wild  boar  see?" 
"  I'll  blow  a  blast  and  he'll  come  to  me." 

Old  Bangum  blew  both  loud  and  shrill; 
The  wild  board  heard  on  Temple  Hill. 

The  wild  boar  dashed  with  such  a  rash 
He  tore  his  way  through  oak  and  ash. 

Old  Bangum  drew  his  wooden  knife 
And  swore  he'd  take  the  wild  boar's  life. 

They  fought  four  hours  in  a  day; 
At  last  the  wild  boar  stole  away. 

They  traced  the  wild  boar  to  his  den, 
And  found  the  bones  of  a  thousand  men. 

4.   SHIPWRECK  (Child,  289) 
This  was  written  down  by  Agnes  Shibley  of  the  Kirksville  (Mo.) 
Normal  School,  who  learned  it  from  her  mother.     It  w^as  sent  to  Pro- 
fessor Belden  by  Miss  Hamilton. 

One  Saturday  night  as  we  set  sail, 

Not  being  far  from  shore, 

'Twas  then  that  I  spied  a  pretty  fair  maid 

With  a  glass  and  a  comb  in  her  hand,  her  hand. 

With  a  glass  and  a  comb  in  her  hand. 

Chorus 

The  stormy  wind  did  blow, 

And  the  raging  sea  did  roll. 

And  we  poor  sailors  came  leaping  to  the  top 

While  the  landsmen  lay  down  below,  below,  below, 

While  the  landsmen  lay  down  below. 

Then  up  came  a  boy  of  our  gallant  ship. 
And  a  noble-spoken  boy  was  he; 
Saying,  "I've  a  mother  in  distant  York  town 
This  night  is  a-weei)ing  for  me." 

Then  up  came  a  lad  of  our  gallant  ship, 

And  a  beautiful  lad  was  he. 

Saying,  "I've  a  sweetheart  in  distant  York  town 

This  night  is  a-looking  for  me." 


J 


Five  Old-Country  Ballads  177 

Then  up  came  the  clerk  of  our  gallant  ship, 
And  a  noble-spoken  man  was  he, 
Saying,  "I've  a  wife  in  distant  York  town 
This  night  a  widow  will  be." 

Then  up  came  the  cai)taiii  of  our  gallant  ship. 
There  is  no  braver  man  than  he. 

Saying,  "For  the  want  of  a  yawl-boat  we'll  be  drowned 
And  we'll  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

Then  three  times  round  our  gallant  ship  turned. 
Three  times  round  she  turned; 
Three  times  round  our  gallant  ship  turned. 
Then  she  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 


5.       CAPTAIN    WARD   (Child,   287) 

The  following  version  of  "Captain  Ward"  was  contributed  by  Dr. 
Alma  Blount,  of  the  State  Normal  College,  Ypsilanti,  Mich.,  March 
14,  1912,  as  written  down  by  Mr.  Kerns,  one  of  her  students.  It  has 
been  traditional  in  his  family  for  many  years.  About  twenty  years 
ago  one  of  them  made  a  written  copy.  The  Kerns  family  came  from 
the  North  of  England  to  New  Jersey  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years 
ago,  and  it  is  thought  they  brought  the  ballad  with  them  (in  memory, 
not  in  print). 

1.  Strike  up,  ye  lusty  gallants,  that  love  the  sound  of  drum! 
I  have  discovered  a  rover,  that  on  the  sea  doth  run; 

His  name  it  is  bold  Captain  Ward,  as  plain  it  doth  appear; 
There  hasn't  been  such  a  rover  found  out  this  hundred  year. 

2.  He  sent  a  letter  unto  our  ciueen  the  ninth  of  February, 
Desiring  that  he  might  come  in,  with  his  company  so  merry; 
Desiring  that  he  might  come  in,  and  when  his  tale  was  told, 
F"or  his  ransom  he  would  give  fully  thirty  tons  of  gold. 

3.  "Oh.  no!    oh,  no!"    tluMi  said  our  <iuc'«'ii.      "This  thing  it  nia>-  not  be. 
That  I  should  reign  U|)on  the  land  and  not  upon  the  sea. 

He  hath  deceived  the  Oucrn  of  I-Vance,  likewise  the  Oueen  of  Sfiain, 
And  how  should  he  prove  true  to  me  when  he  hath  (lecei\e<l  twain?" 

4.  Our  (jueen  then  fitted  out  a  ship,  a  gallant  shiji  of  fame, 

And  she  was  called  the  Rainbow,  if  you  would  know  her  name. 
So  well  she  was  jirovided  for,  and  fitted  for  the  sea, 
With  fifty  goorl  brass  pieces  to  bi-ar  her  ('om|)ani(-. 

5.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  wIumi  they  began  to  fight. 
And  cannons  they  kept  roaring  till  eight  o'clock  at  night. 

"Shf)ot  on!  shoot  on!"  says  Captain  Ward,  "yoiii  sport  well  |)leaseth  me; 
And  if  you  fight  a  month  or  more,  your  master  I  will  be!" 


178  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

6.     And  now  the  gallant  Rainbow  is  relurnint^  home  again, 

Saying,  "Yonder  sails  proud  Captain  Ward,  and  there  he  may  remain. 


[Several  stanzas  missing] 

"Alack!  alas!"  then  said  our  queen,  "for  I've  lost  jewels  three: 

There  was  Captain  Drake  and  Withcrington  and  bold  Lord  Willoughby. 

If  e'er  a  one  of  them  was  alive,  he'd  have  brought  proud  Ward  to  me." 


Brazilian  Songs 


179 


BRAZILIAN    SUNOS 

BY    ELEANOR    HAGUE 


The  first  three  of  the  following  songs  arc  sung  in  northern  Brazil. 
The  fourth  I  learned  originally  from  a  friend  who  had  heard  it  in  a 
remote  part  of  Portugal.     Later  I  found  that  it  is  also  sung  in  Brazil. 


is 


igggg^-; 


I.       N.\SCI    P.\R.\    TI    AMAR 


^-^ 


-m--» 


-r-^0-0- 


i: 


m 


:^ 


JBK    II 


i=^=p: 


^"^ 


1.  Nasoipa-ra  t«    a -mar,  Oh  aorte  fe   -   ri    -    na!  I'a  -  ra    te     ado 


*      *- 


-=^^r —P N — }y fv-H fK 


=t=:^ 


±;i 


rar      foi  min  -  ba      si    -    na!      Ob  Deaa  qaan-to  aof  -  fro    ea   -    ta 

N  ^ 


P9^JL^ — 1- — ^^-^-fvq^=: 

I  #H\y  >>  L. •— : i — d • P — ^ ■ 


^ 


:a=«: 


j(J    io  '   ^1^=^=^ 


(lAr!   Cin-pi  -  da  iia   fe  -  ri    -   da  d'este  a  -  nior!     Eu    von  fu  -  gir    de 


^^=r=^ 


s; 


azzp: 


i==tz=tr: 


ti,     Son  dea  -  pre  -  za  -  do,    Naa-oi    pa  -  ra    aof  -  frer   dea-ven  -  tn    - 


^^^^g^E^fe^-?-^^-^ 


ra     -     do,  Oh     Deu.s  (luan  -  to        8<>f    -    fro     1*9 


tA 


m 


^ 


^ 


^ 


:?^=qi^ 


^ 


¥ 


*=-#=? 


dAr!  Cin  -  k>  •  da     na      fe   -   ri     -     da      d'eatc        a     -     inor! 

2.       MKH    ANJO    ESCUTw\ 


^I^B^^^feLi^'  .r  J  ^  ji  J  ■>  gi^^j 


1.    Meo  An-JoMMni-te   n-tnn  flnnta  ao     Ion  -  ge,     De  tiin  pobre 


mljLLiLiJJu  ■  '^  '^^^^ 


l»ar  -  do  <nie  cm  -  loti  -  (|nt>  -  wu,  ( >iiv(>  h<<   a     ll.iu  -  t.t  n'unin  Ion  -  f^ 


I  So 


Joiinml  oj  American  Folk-Lore 


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que     ixft,  E'o   pobre  bar  -  do  sns  -  pi  -  ron,    nior  -  reu 


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flau  -  ta  n'nma  Ion  -  ga,  qneixa,      E'o  pobre   bar-do  sus  -  pi-ron,  mor  -  reu. 


2.  E  meia  noite  o  triste  bronza  chora, 
A  lua  occulta  sob  nuveni  obscuia, 
Calou-se  a  flauta-n'uma  longa  queixa, 
E  o  pobrc  bardo  morrcu  de  amargura. 

3.  Morreii  o  baido  que  nas  noites  bellas, 
Ao  som  da  flauta  supplicava  amor, 
Morreu  a  bella  que  adorava  a  bardo, 
Morreu  sonhando  n'um  provir  em  flor. 


3.      TORMENTOS    DA    VIDA 


7^ — ^ -f- 

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ba   -    far. 


I 


Brazilian  Songs 


i8i 


2.  Sinto  dorcs  que  ferem  meu  pel  to! 
Sinto  magoas  crueis  e  paixao! 
Eu  nao  vejo  no  mundo  aquem  dei, 
Nem  motives  en  meu  coracao. 


4.      OH,    FONTE    QUE    ESTAS    CHORANDO 


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53 


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tar  -  dii    -    riis 


n       sec    -    car, 


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fon      -        -      ten,         Qne  niio         pa   -    ram      de     clio    -  rar. 

Nkw  \()uk  City,  N.  V. 


1 82  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


BALLADS   FROM    NOVA  SCOTIA.  —  Continued 

BY   W.    ROY    MACKENZIE 
LITTLE    MATIIA    GROVE 

In  the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore  for  July-September,  1910, 
I  published,  under  the  title  "Little  Matha  Grove,"  a  version  of 
"Little  Musgrave  and  Lady  Barnard"  ^  (Child,  No.  81).  The  basis 
of  this  text  was  a  recitation  by  Mrs.  Levi  Langille,  of  Marshville, 
Nova  Scotia;  but  I  also  recorded  stanzas  and  lines  as  delivered  by 
three  other  persons  who  had  some  familiarity  with  the  ballad.  In 
August,  1911,  I  received  from  Mrs.  Bigney,  of  Pictou,  Nova  Scotia, 
additional  variants  on  a  few  of  the  stanzas;  and  these  variants  I  shall 
record  below,  indicating  their  positions  in  the  ballad  by  reference  to 
my  previously  published  version. 

Stanza  3  is  slightly  changed;  then  follows  a  new  stanza;  and  stanza  4, 
which  was  incomplete,  is  rounded  out.  The  three  new  stanzas  read 
thus: 

Lord  Daniel's  wife,  who  was  standing  by, 

On  him  she  cast  her  eye, 
Saying,  "This  very  night,  you  little  Matha  Grove, 
You  must  come  with  me  and  lie." 

"I  wouldn't  for  the  world,  I  wouldn't  for  my  life, 

For  fear  Lord  Daniel  should  hear. 
For  I  know  you  are  Lord  Daniel's  wife 

By  the  ring  on  your  hand  you  do  wear." 

"Well,  what  if  I  am  Lord  Daniel's  wife, 

As  you  suppose  me  to  be? 
Lord  Daniel's  away  to  the  New  Castle 

King  Henry  for  to  see." 

Stanza  14  is  thus  rendered: 

They  rumbled  and  tumbled  till  they  both  fell  asleep; 

And  not  a  word  did  they  say 
Till  Lord  Daniel  stood  by  the  bed-side 

Little  Matha  for  to  slay. 

The  following  combination  is  made  of  stanzas  17  and  18: 

"Get  up,  get  u]),  you  little  Matha  Grove, 

And  fight  me  for  your  life."  — 
"How  can  I  fight  when  you've  two  bright  swords, 

And  I've  got  scarcely  a  knife?" 

>  "Three  Ballads  from  Nova  Scotia,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore ,  vol.  xxiii  (July- 
September,  1910),  No.  LXXXIX. 


Ballads  from  Nova  Scotia  183 

Stanza  22  is  thus  rendered: 

"Cursed  be  my  wife,"  said  he, 

"And  curs6d  be  my  hand. 
They  have  caused  me  to  slay  the  prettiest  lad 

That  ever  trod  England's  land." 

THE   GREENWOOD    SIDING 

The  following  version  of  "The  Cruel  Mother"  (Child,  No.  20) 
I  also  obtained  in  August,  1911,  from  the  singing  and  recitation  of 
Mrs.  Bigne\',  of  Pictou,  No\a  Scotia. 

1.  There  was  a  lady  came  from  York 

Down  alone  in  the  lonely.' 
She  fell  in  love  with  her  father's  clerk 
Down  alone  by  the  greenwood  siding. 

2.  She  loved  him  well,  she  loved  him  long. 

Till  at  length  this  young  maid  with  child  she  did  prove. 

T,.     She  leaned  her  back  against  an  oak. 
When  first  it  bowed,  and  then  it  broke. 

4.  She  leaned  herself  against  a  thorn. 

And  then  her  two  babes  they  were  born. 

5.  She  took  her  penknife,  keen  and  sharp, 

And  she  pierced  it  through  ihtir  innocent  hearts. 

6.  She  dug  a  hole  seven  feet  deep, 

She  threw  them  in  and  bid  them  sleep. 

7.  It's  when  this  young  maid  was  returning  home 
She  saw  two  babes  a-playing  ball. 

8.  "O  babes,  O  babes!    if  you  were  mine, 
I  would  dress  you  up  in  silks  so  fine." 

9.  "O  mother,  mother!    when  we  were  thine, 
V^ou  did  not  dress  us  in  silks  so  fine. 

10.  "Mut  you  took  ><)ur  penknife,  keen  an<l  vh.irp. 
And  you  pierced  it  through  our  innociiil  hearts. 

11.  "You  <\uy!,  a  hole  seven  feet  deep. 
You  threw  us  in  and  bid  us  sleep." 

12.  "()  babes,  ()  babes!    what  shall  I  do 

I*'or  the  wickerl  criine  I  li.i\c  done  unto  you?" 

•  Mrs.  Palmrr,  whom  I  «liall  intriMlucr  prctictuly,  HubMtitutod  lu-rr  the  sliKhlly  different 
refrain.  — 

All  a  Ire  an'l  n  lonoy,  O. 


184  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

13.  "O  mother,  O  mother!    it's  us  can  tell, 

For  it's  seven  long  years  you  shall  ring  a  bell, 

14.  "And  seven  more  like  an  owl  in  the  woods, 
And  seven  more  like  a  whale  in  the  sea. 

15.  "The  rest  of  your  time  you  shall  be  in  hell. 
And  it's  there  you'll  be  fixed  for  eternity." 

DONALD   MUNRO 

The  following  ballad,  which  in  its  motive  is  reminiscent,  though 
rather  vaguely,  of  "Babylon,  or  The  Bonnie  Banks  O  Fordie,"  I 
obtained  in  September,  191 1,  from  the  singing  and  recitation  of 
Sandy  Murphy,  of  Cape  John,  Nova  Scotia.  Its  interest  is  due  partly 
to  the  glimpse  that  it  gives  of  America  from  the  Scottish  point  of  view. 

1.  Ye  sons  of  North  Britain,  you  that  used  to  range 

In  search  of  foreign  countries  and  lands  that  was  strange, 
Amongst  this  great  number  was  Donald  Munro. 
Away  to  America  he  likewise  did  go. 

2.  Two  sons  with  his  brother  he  caused  them  to  stay 
On  account  of  their  passage  he  could  not  well  pay. 
When  seven  long  winters  were  ended  and  gone, 
They  went  to  their  uncle  one  day  alone, 

3.  To  beg  his  consent  to  cross  o'er  the  main 

In  hopes  their  dear  parents  to  meet  with  again. 
Their  uncle  replied  then,  and  answered  them,  "No, 
Thou  hast  no  money  wherewith  thou  canst  go."  ^ 

4.  And  when  they  were  landed  in  that  country  wild. 
Surrounded  by  rebels  on  every  side, 

There  being  two  rebels  that  lurked  in  the  wood. 

They  pointed  their  pistols  where  the  two  brothers  stood. 

5.  And  lodging  a  bullet  in  each  brother's  breast. 
They  ran  for  their  prey  like  two  ravenous  beasts. 
"You  crudest  monsters,  you  bloodthirsty  hounds, 
Hou  could  you  have  killed  us  until  we  hath  found, 

6.  "Found  out  our  dear  parents  whom  we  sought  with  much  care? 
I'm  sure,  when  they  hear  it,  they'll  die  in  despair, 

For  they  left  us  in  Scotland  seven  twelvemonths  ago. 
Perhaps  you  might  know  them;  their  names  were  Munro." 

7.  "Oh,  curse  to  my  hands!     Oh,  what  have  I  done! 
Oh,  curse  to  my  hands,  I  have  murdered  my  sons!" 
"  Is  this  you,  dear  father?     How  did  you  come  by? 
And  since  I  have  seen  you,  contented  I'll  die." 

'  Either  the  two  brothers  were  persons  of  great  independence  and  spirit,  or  else  a 
stanza  is  missing  between  3  and  4. 


Ballads  from  Nova  Scotia  185 

6.     "I'll  sink  into  sorrow  till  life  it  is  o'er, 

In  hopes  for  to  meet  you  on  a  far  brighter  shore, 
In  hopes  for  to  meet  you  on  a  far  brighter  shore, 
Where  I'll  not  be  able  to  kill  you  no  more." 

THE    LADY    OF    THE    LAKE 

The  following  ballad  I  obtained  from  the  singing  and  recitation  of 
Mrs.  Palmer,  of  Brule,  Nova- Scotia.  It  is  a  version  of  the  pojiular 
modern  ballad  moti\e  including  the  meeting  between  the  young  man 
just  returned  from  the  sea,  or  from  some  foreign  land,  and  his  sweet- 
heart, who  does  not  recognize  him.  The  maiden  bewails  the  absence 
of  her  l()\er.  Tiie  young  man  states  that  he  has  known  the  lo\er, 
who  is  now  dead,  or,  worse  still,  happy  in  the  company  of  a  new 
mistress;  tiien,  at  the  signs  of  grief  which  prove  the  constancy  of  the 
maiden,  he  reveals  his  identity,  and  happiness  reigns.  "The  Lady  of 
the  Lake,"  like  "Donald  Munro,"  is  a  British  ballad  pointing  towards 
America. 

1.  As  I  walked  out  one  evening  down  by  the  river-side. 
Along  the  banks  of  sweet  Dundee  a  lovely  lass  I  spied. 
First  she  sighed,  and  then  did  say,  "  I  fear  I'll  rue  the  day  ' 

2.  "Once  I  had  a  kind  sweetheart,  his  name  was  Willie  Brown, 
And  in  the  'Lady  of  the  Lake'  he  sailed  from  Greenwich  Town, 
With  full  five  hundred  emigrants  bound  for  .Xmericay, 

And  on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland  I  am  told  they  were  cast  away." 

3.  When  she  made  mention  of  my  name,  I  to  myself  did  say, 
"Can  this  be  you  stands  by  my  side,  my  own  dear  Liza  Gray?" 
I  turned  myself  right  round  about,  my  tears  for  to  conceal, 
And  with  a  sigh  I  then  began  my  mournful  tale  to  tell. 

4.  "I  own  this  Ifjss  of  Greenokay.  for  I  in  that  vessel  went; 

.Mong  with  your  true  love,  Willie  Brown,  sonie  happy  hours  I  spent. 
Along  with  your  true  love,  Willie  Brown,  some  happy  hours  spent  we; 
He  was  my  chief  companion  uj)on  the  raging  sea. 

5.  "We  tf)ssed  u|)on  the  raging  main  five  hundred  miles  from  shore. 
The  nor'west  winds  and  fields  of  ice  down  on  our  vessel  lH)re. 
That  nigfit  the  'Lady  of  the  Lake'  to  |)ieces  she  was  sent, 

And  all  the  crew  but  thirty-two  down  to  the  lM>tt<)in  went." 

6.  She  said,  "Kind  sir,  if  that  be  true,  what  yi)U  rel.iie  to  me, 
Unto  all  earthly  pleasures  I'll  forever  bid  adieu. 

And  in  some  lonely  valley  I'll  wamler  for  his  siike, 

And  I'll  always  thitik  on  the  day  he  sailed  in  the  'Lady  of  the  Lake.'." 

'  I  li.ivc  »tranKl«'<l  tin-  tnnplation  to  roiiii'l  "ill  tliit  Mtan/.i.  I  Ik-  rhyiiiiiiK  word  for 
the  last  line  is  almost  ct-rlainly  "  Amcricay."  at  llir  next  !itan/.i  will  .hIiow. 


1 86  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

7.     "O  Liza,  lovely  Liza!    from  wcejiinp;  now  refrain; 

For,  don't  you  see,  the  Lord  spared  me  to  see  your  face  again? 
For  don't  you  see  what  you  gave  me  when  I  left  Grecnokay?" 
In  his  hand  he  bore  the  likeness  of  his  own  dear  Liza  Gray. 

The  specimens  just  presented  are  selected  from  a  fairly  large  and 
unsteadily  increasing  body  of  ballads  which  I  have  been  collecting 
from  summer  to  summer  in  Nova  Scotia.  The  last  two,  as  I  have 
indicated,  are  included  partly  because  of  their  mention  of  America. 
Practically  all  of  the  ballads  in  my  collection  are  English  and  Scottish, 
and  \ery  few  of  them  recognize  the  existence  of  the  country  in  which 
they  are  now  being  fostered. 

The  Mrs.  Bigney  who  furnished  me  with  the  additional  variants  to 
"Little  Matha  Grove"  is  Mrs.  Bigney  only  in  her  adopted  home  of 
Pictou.  In  the  district  where  she  was  reared  (i.  e.,  Marshvillc)  she 
is  "Isaac's  Ellen;"  that  is  to  say,  she  is  a  daughter  of  Isaac  Langille, 
who  was  a  neighbor  of  a  certain  patriarch  of  ballad-singers  whom  I 
mentioned  in  my  edition  of  this  ballad.  We  have,  then,  one  more 
road  leading  to  Rome,  which  city  is  in  my  tale  merely  a  symbol  for 
an  old  cobbler,  long  since  dead,  whose  name  was  Edward  Langille. 

It  was  by  purest  accident  that  I  obtained  from  "Isaac's  Ellen"  the 
ballad  presented  above  as  "The  Greenwood  Siding."  Ellen  had 
many  songs  that  she  considered  worthy  of  presentation  to  a  person 
of  taste  and  delicacy,  but  among  these  "The  Greenwood  Siding"  did 
not  appear.  It  is  to  her  small  niece,  who  was  too  young  to  have  eaten 
from  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  e\il,  that  my  thanks  are 
due.  The  latter  supplemented  my  indefinite  requests  for  "old  songs" 
by  a  suggestion  that  her  aunt  should  sing  "the  one  about  the  lady  that 
killed  her  two  babies,"  whereat  she  was  hastily  informed  that  there 
was  no  such  song,  and  further  requested  not  to  open  her  meddlesome 
mouth  again.  I  IxjUJly  supplemented  the  niece's  entreaties,  and 
extorted  the  admission  that  there  was  such  a  song,  but  was  assured 
that  it  was  incredibly  foolish,  very  indecent,  and  that  nobody  would 
be  offended  sooner  than  myself  if  it  were  sung  in  my  presence.  I 
averred  my  catholicity  of  taste,  and  finally  the  song  was  sung.  At 
my  expressed  delight  in  its  interest  and  mellow  anti(|uity,  however, 
Ellen  was  inclined  to  be  sardonic.  The  story,  she  asserted,  must  be 
an  out-and-out  lie.  There  migiit  be  such  things  as  ghosts,  though 
she  had  her  doubts  even  of  that;  but  when  it  came  to  a  game  of  ball 
and  a  long  sermon  from  two  babies  who  had  been  killed  and  buried, 
the  person  who  made  \\\)  the  lie  was  going  a  little  too  far.  And  as 
to  the  song  l)eing  an  old  one,  it  was  well  known  that  sidings  were 
synchronous  with  railroads,  and  it  was  not  so  very  long  since  railroads 
had  been  started.     Ellen  had  learned  the  ballad,  she  was  ashamed  to 


Ballads  from  Xova  Scotia  187 

say,  from  her  mother  and  her  two  uncles,  who,  many  years  ago,  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  foregathering  in  the  evenings  and  singing  ballads 
in  turn. 

As  to  the  provenience  of  "Donald  Mimro,"  no  definite  information 
was  given  by  my  authority,  and  consequently  none  can  be  hazarded 
by  me.  The  song  is  about  the  only  one  remaining  on  the  windy 
shores  of  Cape  John,  though  Sandy  could  "mind  well  of  the  days" 
when  songs  and  "ballats"  —  that  is,  songs  procured  and  transmitted 
orally  and  songs  printed  on  broadside  sheets  —  were  as  thick  as  the 
eel-grass  on  the  flats  below  his  house.  He  supposed  he  had  picked 
this  one  up  in  the  old  days,  but  he  didn't  know;  he  wasn't  the  singer 
that  he  used  to  be.  His  interest  was,  in  fact,  chiefly  centred  upon  a 
double  menace  to  the  efficiency  of  his  establishment,  arising  from  a 
cataract  on  his  wifi-'s  eye  and  a  stiff  joint  on  the  nigh  for'a'd  leg  of  his 
horse. 

The  way  ul  the  ballad-collector  is  hard;  but  seldom  is  it  so  beset 
with  rocks  and  so  overgrown  with  thistles  as  it  was  on  the  afternoon 
when  I  spent  two  solid  hours  receiving  the  solemn  assurances  of  old 
Ann  Wink,  or  the  Widow  Palmer,  that  she  "couldn't  mind  of  a  line 
nor  a  word"  from  one  of  the  ballads  that  she  was  known  to  have  sung 
in  times  past.  The  blight  on  her  memory  was  due  to  the  cause  that 
is  familiar  to  every  collector  of  ballads  in  these  e\il  class.  The  young 
fellows,  she  supposed,  were  just  coming  around  to  have  a  little  fun  with 
a  p(jor  old  woman  who  went  on  her  bare  feet  in  summer  and  was 
thought,  falsely,  U)  be  in  the  habit  of  singing  foolish  old  songs.  .After 
the  above-mentioned  two  hours  of  unflinching  gravity  under  close 
inspection,  confidence  was  at  last  established,  and  I  could  settle  down 
to  the  comparative  relaxation  of  copying  at  lightning  sjiecd  while  the 
Widow  alternately  sang  and  recited  her  list  of  ballads,  including 
"The  Lady  of  the  Lake."  She  had  begun  to  sing  them  so  long  ago, 
that  it  was  no  use  trying  to  remember  what  had  started  her  singing 
them.  liul  my  grief  at  this  paucity  of  iiifi)rmati()n  was  lost  in  my 
amazement  at  having  received  the  ballads  at  all. 

Washington  University, 
St.  Louis,  Mo. 


i88  Journal  oj   American  Folk-Lore 


NOTES  AND  QUERIES  f 

) 
American    Ballads.  —  The    writer  of    this  communication   is    making 

extended  researches  into  the  history  of  certain  American  folk-ballads,  and 

takes  this  opportunity  of  requesting  information  from  readers  of  the  Joupnal. 

1.  Fair  Charlolle  {Young  Charlotte,  Lottie).  —  Of  a  young  womt^i  who 
freezes  to  death  by  her  lover's  side,  while  riding  in  a  sleigh  with  hfm  to  a 
Christmas  Eve  ball.  This  ballad  was  composed  by  William  L.  Carter  of 
Benson,  \'t.,  before  1833.  It  is  current  in  popular  tradition  from  Nova 
Scotia  westward  through  the  States  from  New  England  to  Dakota,  and 
southward  to  Oklahoma. 

2.  Jealous  Lover  {Florilla,  Emma,  Nellie,  Lena,  Aurilla,  Ella,  Abbie 
Summers,  Weeping  Willoic's).  —  Of  a  youth  who  takes  his  lady-love  to  walk 
in  the  woods  and  there  stabs  her,  being  stricken  with  remorse  as  she  dies, 
forgiving  him.  This  ballad,  of  unknown  authorship,  is  current  from  Nova 
Scotia  westward  and  southward  through  the  States,  New  England  to  Ken- 
tucky, and  westward  to  Missouri.  Some  texts  contain  stanzas  derived  from 
a  song  "She  Never  Blamed  Him,"  by  Thomas  H.  Bayly. 

3.  Casey  Jones  {Cassidy,  Shannon,  etc.).  —  Of  the  last  run  of  an  engineer, 
who  becomes  a  hero  by  sticking  to  the  throttle  and  going  down  in  a  wreck 
with  his  engine,  while  the  fireman  jumps  to  safety.  This  ballad,  ascribed 
to  the  agile  fireman,  is  current  throughout  the  country,  and  is  the  source 
of  the   well-known   vaudeville   song. 

Information  is  eagerly  desired  concerning  the  origin,  authorship,  and 
currency  of  these  ballads,  and  particularly  texts  and  melodies,  for  which 
the  undersigned  will  be  duly  grateful  to  readers  of  the  Journal,  as  being 
desirous  of  collecting  all  known  versions. 

Phillips  Barry,  A.M. 
Felto.v  Hall, 

Cambridge,  Mass. 

Two  Abnaki  Legends.  —  The  following  legends  are  from  the  tribes  be- 
longing to  the  Confederacy,  whose  name,  Abnaki,  means  "the  whitening 
sky  at  daybreak,"  or  the  "Eastern  people."  I  remember  hearing  a  Passa- 
maquoddy,  I  believe  it  was,  tell  one  of  their  Creation  myths  which  I  think 
has  never  been  published.  He  was  around  selling  baskets  in  Augusta,  Me.; 
and  in  reply  to  some  question  of  my  grandmother's,  he  told  this  story  to 
show  the  Indian's  belief  in  his  divine  right  to  all  the  land.  I  was  a  little 
child  at  the  time,  and  the  language  made  an  impression  on  my  mind.  I 
give  the  story  in  his  own  words,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  them,  as  told 
at  my  childhood's  home  in  Augusta,  Me. 

I.  Creation  Myth.  —  When  the  Great  Spirit  come  to  make  man,  he  grab 
up  some  clay  from  anyu'here,  an'  slap  it  together  anyhow,  an'  toss  him  into 
the  oven  to  bake.  He  got  burnt  to  a  crisp,  so  his  hair  kinked  all  up;  an' 
this  was  the  black  man.  Then  the  Great  Sjjiril  thrt-w  him  way  across  the 
big  water. 


Notes  and  Queries  189 

Then  he  pick  out  some  better  clay,  an'  put  it  into  shape  more  careful, 
an'  put  him  in  the  oven  to  bake.  This  one  come  out  slack  done,  an'  he 
was  the  "pale-face."  Then  the  Great  Spirit  threw  him  over  the  big  water 
straight  towards  the  sunrise. 

But  the  Great  Spirit  no  give  up;  an'  He  said,  "This  time  there's  goin' 
to  be  a  man  just  right  every  way."  So  He  look  all  round  an'  pick  out  the 
very  best  clay,  an'  put  it  together  so  as  to  have  every  part  of  him  just  right. 
An'  all  the  time  he  was  in  the  oven  the  Great  Spirit  watch  every  minute, 
an'  take  him  out  when  he  had  just  the  right  bake  on;  an'  this  was  the  red 
man  that  was  made  to  live  right  here,  an'  everything  was  made  for  him. 
an'  the  Great  Spirit  gave  him  all  this  land. 

It  is  impossible  to  convey  to  you  the  full  idea  of  this  Indian's  self-sufficiency 
as  he  swept  his  arm  around  and  declared  their  divinely  given  rights. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  all  their  legends  was  told  to  my  father  by  a 
Penobscot  chief.  This  has  never  been  published  in  full,  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  a  single  sentence  of  the  story  has  ever  been  in  print. 

My  father  was  quick  to  catch  the  meaning  of  any  story  which  the  Indians 
told  in  their  dialect  or  broken  English;  but  he  preferred  to  give  me  this  in 
his  own  language,  because  at  first  I  was  too  young  to  grasp  more  than  the 
outlines  of  the  legend.  It  was  not  until  I  had  learned  the  names  of  our 
common  trees  and  [)lants,  and  knew  something  of  the  habits  of  animals, 
that  I  fully  comprehended  the  story,  although  I  was  never  tired  of  hear- 
ing it. 

2.  Origin  of  Vegetation.  —  This  bit  of  folk-lore  is  of  the  old,  old  time  whbn 
there  was  not  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  found  in  all  the  land,  and  there  was  not 
a  leaf  on  any  tree  except  those  needle-shaped  ones  that  grow  on  the  pines 
and  hemlocks.  It  was  so  bleak  and  cold  that  the  little  animals  crept  into 
h()ll(jw  trees  and  holes  in  the  ground  to  get  warm,  and  the  larger  beasts 
hid  themselves  in  caves. 

Then  the  Great  Spirit  pitied  His  children,  and  He  sent  a  wonderful  goddess 
to  visit  the  earth.  She  ran  over  the  hills  and  through  the  valleys,  bringing 
warmth  and  gladness  everywhere.  She  just  looked  at  the  bare  trees,  and 
green  leaves  came  out  on  them. 

Wherever  her  glance  rested,  there  ai)i)eared  beautiful  Mowers,  as  if  in 
response  to  her  look.  Wherever  she  touched  the  earth  in  any  way  (hand, 
elbow,  wrist,  or  any  part  of  her  body),  something  was  sure  to  grow  that  was 
good  to  eat.  Kvrry  plant  had  life  in  itself,  and  all  helped  the  Great  Spirit 
to  feed  His  children.  Every  movement  of  the  goddess  gave  rise  to  some 
distinct  sjjecies. 

I  think  the  whole  tradition  was  sujjposed  t(i  give  the  origin  of  ail  the 
plants  to  be  found  in  the  I'enobs(«)t  and  Ki-nnebec  valleys. 

.My  father  was  a  classical  scholar,  and  he  .saw  the  analogy  between  this 
legend  an<l  the  story  of  Persephone,  the  Greek  goddess  of  vegetation;  but 
it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  Indian  version  bore  internal  evidence  of  originality. 
The  Penobscot  legend,  if  told  in  full,  with  all  its  native  pl.mts,  would,  I 
think,  fit  no  other  place  in  the  universe. 

The  .American  ln<lian  is  very  reticent,  and  he  will  generally  allow  you 
to  think  that  he  recalls  no  legends  rather  than  to  speak  when  he    prefers 


1 90  Journal  of  A  mcrica n  FoJk-Lore 

to  keep  silence;  but  if  you  can  persuade  him  to  unlock  the  treasures  in  his 
stories  of  the  old,  old  time  (which  was  long  before  the  white  men  came  to 
these  shores),  you  will  find  a  wealth  of  poetic  imagery.  The  Indian  will 
rarely  waste  his  folk-lore  stories  on  those  who  are  unable  to  appre- 
ciate them. 

Helen  Keith  Frost 
Westford,  Mass. 


THE  JOURNAL  OF 

AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE 

Vol.  XXV.  — JULY-SEPTEMBER,  191 2  — No.  XCV 


FOUR   MEXICAN-SPANISH   FAIRY-TALES   FROM 
AZQUELTAN,   JALISCO 

BY    J.    ALDEN    MASON 

The  following  four  fairy-tales  were  collected  by  the  writer  in  the 
pueblo  of  Azqueltdn,  state  of  Jalisco,  Mexico,  January,  1912.  This 
little  village  is  the  centre  of  a  small  and  rapidly  disintegrating  popu- 
lation of  an  isolated  branch  of  the  Tepehuane,  heretofore,  but  probably 
incorrectly,  known  as  Tepecano.  The  collection  of  these  few  tales 
was  merely  incidental  to  a  more  extended  study  of  the  language  and 
religious  customs  of  the  group,  made  under  the  auspices  of  the  Inter- 
national School  of  American  Archaeology  and  Ethnology  in  Mexico. 

Like  most  of  the  Indian  peoples  of  Mexico,  the  aboriginal  culture 
of  the  people  has  been  greatly  changed  under  Spanish  influence, 
practically  all  phases  of  primitive  material  culture  having  almost 
entirely  disappeared,  and  native  language,  mythology,  and  religion 
being  on  the  verge  of  extinction.  Of  native  mythology,  it  has  been 
possible  to  secure  only  comparatively  few  mythological  texts  from  the 
older  natives.  The  native  mythology  has,  however,  to  a  great  extent 
been  replaced  by  European  material  of  the  familiar  "fairy-tale"  type 
introduced  by  the  Spanish.  These  are  known  in  considerable  numbers 
by  the  natives. 

The  four  tales  here  given  are  European  fairy-tales.  In  some  of  the 
incidents  a  slight  assimilaticjn  to  Mexican  customs  is  noted;  but,  on  the 
whole,  there  is  a  remarkably  close  adherence  to  incidents  and  customs 
pertinent  only  to  European  traditions,  and  entirely  foreign  to  the  life 
of  the  Mexican  Indian. 

I.  Till-:  FROG-WOMAN  {Cuctito  (Ic  la  Ranita) 

Once  there  was  a  king  who  had  two  sons,  one  of  whom  was  betrothed 
to  a  maiden.  The  other  prince  went  one  day  to  the  edge  of  the  lake 
to  water  the  donkeys,  and  there  the  I-Yog-Woman  appeared  to  him. 
She  asked  him  to  marry  her,  and  he  finally  agreed.  So  he  went  to  his 
father  and  asked  him  to  give  him  the  necessary  money,  so  that  he 
VOL.  XXV. — NO.  96.  — 13  191 


192  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

might  marry  the  Frog-Woman.  The  king  was  surprised,  and  asked 
him  why  he  wished  to  serve  the  Frog-Woman,  but  nevertheless  gave 
him  the  money. 

Then  the  king  ordered  both  of  his  daughters-in-law  to  be  dressed 
in  elegant  clothes,  in  order  that  he  might  see  which  of  the  two  was  the 
more  womanly;  and  he  gave  to  each  a  dog  and  a  bird.  He  gave 
instructions  that  the  two  princes  be  kept  secluded  in  the  castle,  and 
then  went  to  see  his  daughters-in-law. 

First,  all  sat  down  to  a  banquet,  and  then  the  king  expressed  his 
desire  to  dance  with  his  daughters-in-law.  First  he  danced  with  the 
maiden;  and  w'hile  so  engaged,  the  Frog-Woman  seized  some  chicken- 
bones  from  the  table,  and  began  to  cast  magic  spells  by  means  of  them. 
When  the  maiden  saw  this,  she  desired  to  do  the  same.  Then  the 
king  left  her,  and  began  to  dance  with  the  Frog-Woman,  who  con- 
tinued casting  the  bones  while  dancing;  but  no  sooner  did  she  begin 
to  throw  them  than  they  changed  into  pure  gold.  When  the  maiden 
saw  this,  she  was  more  anxious  than  ever  to  do  the  same,  and,  seizing 
some  chicken-bones  from  the  table,  she  likewise  cast  them;  but  the 
first  bone  hit  the  Frog- Woman  on  the  head  and  killed  her. 

2.  CINDER-MARY  {Cuento  de  Maria  Ceniza) 
Once  there  was  a  poor  orphan-girl  who  lived  in  an  ash-hole  belonging 
to  the  Black  Moors.  One  day  when  one  of  them  went  there  to  throw 
out  the  ashes,  he  saw  her,  and  asked  her  to  come  to  their  house.  There 
they  asked  her  name;  but  the  poor  girl  did  not  know  her  own  name, 
nor  were  they  able  to  discover  it.  Finally  they  gave  her  the  name  of 
Maria  Ceniza  (Cinder-Mary).  Now,  the  Black  Moors  were  witches; 
but  they  did  not  wish  Cinder-Mary  to  learn  the  fact,  so  they  gave 
her  a  black  sheep's  skin  and  a  half-rea/*  of  soap,  and  sent  her  to  the 
river,  telling  her  not  to  waste  the  soap,  but  to  wash  the  sheep-skin 
until  it  was  as  white  as  a  pod  of  cotton. 

Cinder-Mary  knelt  by  the  river  and  wept,  because  she  could  not 
wash  the  sheep-skin  as  the  Moors  had  commanded  her.  Suddenly 
there  appeared  a  lady,  who  asked  her  why  she  was  weeping;  and 
Cinder-Mary  replied,  that,  if  she  could  not  wash  the  black  sheep-skin 
as  white  as  a  pod  of  cotton,  the  Black  Moors  would  kill  her.  Then  the 
lady  told  her  that  she  would  bring  her  two  white  stones  with  which 
she  would  be  able  to  wash  the  black  sheep-skin.  Presently  she 
returned,  and  soon  Cinder-Mary  had  washed  the  sheep-skin  as  white 
as  a  pod  of  cotton.  Then  the  lady  gave  her  a  magic  wand,  and  told 
her  that  when  she  needed  anything,  she  need  only  speak  to  the  wand. 
Then,  placing  a  tiny  star  on  Cinder-Mary's  forehead,  she  disappeared. 
Now,  one  of  the  Black  Moors  had  a  daughter;  and  when  she  saw 

'  I  real  =  12.5  centavos,  Mexican  code. 


Fairy-Tales  from  Azqueltan,  Jalisco  193 

the  star  on  the  forehead  of  Cinder-Man,-,  she  was  very  jealous,  and 
asked  her  mother  to  have  a  black  lamb  killed,  that  she  also  might  go 
to  the  river  to  wash  the  skin.  So,  going  to  the  river,  she  commenced 
to  weep;  and  when  the  lady  appeared  to  her  and  asked  her  why  she 
was  weeping,  she  replied  that  it  was  because  she  could  not  wash  the 
black  sheep-skin.  Then  she  asked  her  if  she  would  not  put  a  star  on 
her  forehead  likewise,  but  the  lady  replied  that  she  would  put  nothing 
but  "mango  de  burro"  there.  Then  the  girl  returned  to  the  house  of 
the  Black  Moors. 

Another  day  the  Moors  said  to  Cinder-Mary  that  they  were  going 
to  mass,  and  they  left  her  behind  to  prepare  the  breakfast.  "If  you 
have  not  a  good  breakfast  ready  when  we  return,  we  shall  kill  you," 
they  said.  Then  Cinder-Mary  asked  her  magic  wand  to  give  her  a 
dress  such  as  had  never  before  been  seen  in  the  world,  and  some  shoes, 
in  order  that  she  might  go  to  mass.  Then  she  followed  a  little  behind 
the  Moors,  and  entered  the  church;  and  neither  the  Moors  nor  the 
rest  of  the  people  recognized  her.  When  the  priest  saw  her,  he  was 
much  impressed  with  her  beauty,  and  thought  that  she  would  make 
an  excellent  wife  for  the  prince;  so  he  gave  orders  that  double  guards 
be  stationed  at  the  doors  of  the  parish,  and  that  she  be  not  allowed  to 
leave.  This,  however,  did  not  deter  Cinder-Mary,  who  fastened  some 
wings  to  her  back,  so  that  they  might  not  catch  her.  The  guards  tried 
to  restrain  her,  but  only  succeeded  in  catching  one  of  her  shoes.  Then 
she  flew  back  to  the  house  of  the  Moors  and  ordered  her  magic  wand 
to  prepare  a  breakfast  with  good  food.  Soon  the  Moors  came  home, 
and  began  to  talk  about  the  beautiful  maiden  whom  they  had  seen 
with  a  star  which  illumined  everything  up  to  the  grand  altar;  but  it 
was  Cinder-Mary. 

Then  the  king  ordered  his  men  to  search  all  the  villages  and  ranchos  for 
the  maiden  who  had  left  the  shoe  behind.  Soon  they  came  to  the 
house  of  the  Black  Moors,  and  found  Cinder-Mary's  other  shoe. 
They  were  about  to  carry  the  daughter  of  the  Moor  to  the  king,  when 
a  little  dog  commenced  to  howl,  saying,  "Mango  de  Burro  goes,  and 
Star  of  Cold  remains."  Then  the  king's  retainers  demanded  to  see 
the  other  maiden  who  was  hidden  in  the  house.  Acconlingly  they 
left  the  girl  who  had  the  "  mango  de  burro  "  on  her  forehead,  and  carried 
Cinder-Mary  to  the  king,  that  she  might  marry  the  prince.  There 
was  a  grand  wedding,  and  Cinder-Mary  was  given  a  castle  in  which 
to  live  with  the  prince. 

Soon  afterwards  the  Black  Moors  came  to  the  castle  ami  asked 
that  they  be  allowed  to  louse  Cinder-Mary.  They  came  to  her  while 
she  was  bathing,  with  her  hair  loose,  and  commenced  to  louse  her. 
Suddenly  they  stuck  a  j)in  into  her  head,  so  that  she  became  enchanted 
and  tltw  away,  for  they  were  .ifr.iid  th.it  shr  would  denounce  them 


194  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

because  they  were  witches.  Then  they  left  without  as  much  as  saying 
good -by. 

When  her  attendants  came  for  Cinder-Mary,  she  was  gone,  and  the 
only  living  being  they  could  find  was  a  dove  in  a  cypress-tree.  Then 
they  went  to  the  head  servant  and  asked  him  how  much  he  would  give 
them  for  the  dove  which  they  had  found  singing  in  the  cypress-tree, 
and  which  said  in  its  song  that  it  wanted  to  see  the  king  in  his  palace. 
The  dove,  they  said,  was  crying  pitcously.  The  servant  went  at  once 
to  the  king  and  told  him  about  the  dove.  Then  the  king  asked  him 
how  much  he  wanted  for  bringing  the  dove  to  him;  and  the  servant 
replied,  that  if  he  would  give  him  five  hundred  pesos,  he  would  luring  it. 
The  king  agreed,  and  the  servant  went  and  brought  him  the  bird. 
While  stroking  its  back,  the  king  found  a  pin  stuck  in  its  head,  and 
pulled  it  out.  Immediately  the  bird  became  Cinder-Mary.  Then  he 
asked  her  why  the  Black  Moors  had  thus  bewitched  her;  and  she 
replied,  that  it  was  because  they  were  witches,  and  were  afraid  that 
she  would  denounce  them. 

Then  the  king  ordered  that  the  Moors  be  brought  before  him,  and 
he  condemned  them  all  to  be  burned  to  death  with  green  wood.  But 
Cinder-Mary  entered  the  palace  where  she  was  to  live,  and  locked  the 
door,  so  that  no  one  might  open  it  for  live  days.  When  at  last  the 
door  was  opened,  it  was  a  virgin  who  was  shut  in  there. 

3.  THE  BIRD  OF  THE  SWEET  SONG  {Cueuto  del  Pajaro  del  Duke  Canto) 
Once  there  was  an  old  man  who  was  blind,  and  the  sorcerers  whom 
he  consulted  told  him  that  the  only  thing  which  would  cure  his 
blindness  was  a  certain  sweet-voiced  bird.  So  his  son  started  out  to 
find  the  bird.  Soon  he  came  to  a  rancho,  where  he  found  a  dead  man 
who  had  no  one  to  bury  him.  Feeling  reverence  for  the  dead,  he 
sought  a  man  to  attend  the  corpse,  and  then  sent  for  a  priest  to  bury 
him.  The  priest  inquired  of  the  messenger  whether  he  came  on  his 
own  business  or  for  another,  remarking  that  it  were  better  if  the  other 
should  himself  come  to  present  his  requests.  Nevertheless  he  went, 
and  the  corpse  was  buried  with  responses.     Then  the  boy  went  on 

his  way. 

Soon  afterwards  he  met  in  the  road  the  spirit  of  the  dead  man  to 
whom  he  had  given  the  charity  of  burial.  It  had  assumed  the  form 
of  a  Fox,  who  asked  him  where  he  was  going,  and  why.  He  replied 
that  he  was  going  to  the  country  of  the  Moors  to  fetch  the  bird  of  the 
sweet  song.  Then  the  Fox  told  him  that  it  was  very  near,  and  that 
he  would  give  him  a  horse  to  assist  him.  The  Fox  knew  whether  the 
horse  was  given  pasture  or  not.  He  further  advised  him  that  if  he 
should  find  the  Moors  with  their  eyes  open,  it  was  a  sign  that  they 
were  sleeping,  but  that  if  their  eyes  were  closed,  then  he  should  know 


Fairy-Tales  front  Azqueltan,  Jalisco  195 

that  they  were  wide  awake.  But  the  Fox  warned  him  that  he  must 
not  carry  away  any  of  the  beautiful  maidens  which  he  would  find  in 
the  house  of  the  Moors. 

Soon  the  boy  arrived  at  the  castle  of  the  Moors,  and  entered.  There 
he  found  the  Moors  with  their  eyes  open,  and  by  this  he  knew  that 
they  were  sleeping.  Many  birds  were  there  in  beautiful  cages;  but 
he  passed  these  by,  and  took  a  plain,  common  cage  in  which  was  a 
homely  bird,  for  he  knew  that  this  was  the  bird  of  the  sweet  song. 
Likewise  he  seized  one  of  the  beautiful  maidens,  contrary  to  the  Fox's 
orders,  mounted  a  wooden  horse  which  he  found  there,  and  flew 
through  the  window. 

Then  the  Moors  awakened,  and  pursued  them,  and  soon  overtook 
them.  They  carried  the  boy  and  the  maiden  back  to  their  castle,  and 
imprisoned  them  there.  Soon  the  Fox  re-appeared  to  him,  and  said, 
"You  did  not  do  as  I  instructed  you."  He  then  told  him  that  the 
maiden  was  in  the  garden  and  would  speak  to  no  one,  and  that  the 
bird  refused  to  sing,  but  that  he  had  gone  for  some  charcoal,  and 
begged  permission  of  the  Moors  to  give  her  two  pieces.  Then  she  at 
once  began  to  talk,  the  bird  to  sing,  and  the  horse  to  neigh. 

Soon  afterward  the  boy  again  seized  the  maiden  and  the  bird, 
mounted  the  horse,  and  flew  away.  Again  the  Fox  re-appeared, 
warning  them  not  to  cross  the  river  with  the  bargemen,  for,  should 
they  attempt  to  do  so,  they  would  never  reach  the  other  shore;  but, 
disregarding  the  warning,  they  kept  on  until  they  came  to  the  river 
where  they  met  the  bargemen.  These  said  that  they  did  not  have 
room  for  all  to  cross  at  once,  but  that  they  would  first  cross  with  the 
maiden,  the  bird,  and  the  horse,  and  later  return  for  the  boy.  The 
girl,  bird,  and  horse  were  safely  landed  on  the  other  shore,  and  the 
bargemen  then  returned  for  the  boy;  but  when  they  reached  the  middle 
of  the  river,  the  boat  was  upset.  Now,  it  happened  that  there  was  a 
sabino-tree  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  the  boy  held  tightly  to  this. 

Then  su<l(lenly  the  Fox  appeared  on  the  river-bank,  and  toUl  him 
to  hold  tight  until  he  made  a  rope.  So  he  began  to  pull  the  h.iirs 
out  of  his  tail,  and  twisted  them  to  form  a  rope.  When  it  was  long 
enough,  he  threw  it  out  to  the  boy,  and  told  him  to  tie  it  about  his 
waist,  s^)  that  lu-  might  pull  him  ashore.  Reaching  the  shore,  the  boy 
went  sadly  home,  leaving  the  bird  of  the  sweet  song,  tlu-  in.ii»Kn  and 
the  horse,  on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

When  the  blind  father  heard  that  his  son  had  lost  the  bin!  of  the 
sweet  song,  he  again  went  to  the  sorcerers,  who  told  him  that  the 
sole  remedy  now  for  his  blindness  was  to  bathe  in  thr  sea  i'\cry  .ificr- 
noon.  The  first  day  that  he  went  there,  an  ugly  W«)rm  appeared, 
and  told  him  that  if  he  would  give  him  one  of  his  three  daughters,  he 
would  cure  his  infirmity.     Returning,  he  told  his  daughters  of  this; 


196  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

and  they  agreed,  that,  if  the  Worm  would  cure  their  father,  one  of 
them  would  go  with  the  Worm.  So  the  next  afternoon  the  old  man 
took  his  eldest  daughter;  but  when  she  saw  the  Worm,  she  was  horri- 
fied, and  said  that  she  would  never  go  with  such  an  ugly  creature. 
The  next  afternoon  when  the  blind  father  went  to  bathe,  he  took  his 
second  daughter;  but  she  likewise  refused  to  go  when  she  saw  the 
ugliness  of  the  Worm.  Now,  only  the  youngest  remained,  but  she 
said  that  she  would  gladly  do  anything  if  only  her  father  might  be 
cured.  So  she  went  with  him  the  next  afternoon  when  he  went  to 
bathe.  Then  the  ugly  Worm  appeared,  and  asked  her  if  she  were 
willing  to  go  with  him.  Turning  to  her  father,  she  asked  him  to  give 
her  his  blessing.  Then  from  the  sea  there  came  a  great  wave  which 
carried  the  maiden  and  the  Worm  out  to  sea  with  it. 

4.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  SUN  AND  THE  MOON  {Cucnto  del  Sol  y  la  LunaY 
Once  there  was  a  soldier  who  saw  a  maiden  in  his  house  one  night. 
He  thought  he  might  have  been  dreaming  when  he  saw  her,  and  decided 
to  watch  again  the  next  night.  When  she  appeared  again,  he  lighted 
a  candle,  that  he  might  see  how  beautiful  she  was;  but  no  sooner  had 
he  done  so,  than  he  received  a  blow  in  the  face  which  caused  him  to 
drop  the  candle  and  spill  a  drop  of  wax  on  the  floor.  Then  the  maiden 
disappeared.  "I  will  go  and  search  for  her,"  said  the  soldier,  and 
he  set  out. 

Soon  he  met  on  the  road  two  brothers  who  were  fighting  about 
their  inheritance.  One  of  them  said  to  the  other,  "Here  comes  a 
man  who  will  know  how  to  arrange  it."  When  the  soldier  came  up 
to  them,  he  asked,  "What  are  you  doing,  my  good  men?"  And  they 
replied,  "We  are  fighting  over  our  inheritance."  —  "My  father," 
said  one  of  them,  "had  these  magical  boots,  this  magical  cudgel,  and 
this  hat;  and  my  brother  wishes  to  inherit  all  of  them.  So  I  told  him 
that  you  would  arrange  the  matter  for  us."  The  soldier  agreed,  and 
told  the  boys  to  run  a  race  to  a  near-by  hill  and  back.  "Whoever 
arrives  here  first,"  said  he,  "will  be  the  owner  of  all  that  your  father 
possessed."  The  boys  agreed,  and  started  ofT;  but  when  they  re- 
turned, the  soldier  had  disappeared  with  the  magical  objects.  "Did 
I  not  tell  you  that  he  would  settle  the  matter  for  us?"  said  one  to  the 
other. 

Then  the  soldier  went  on,  taking  three  leagues  at  a  step,  with  the 
aid  of  his  magic  boots,  until  he  came  to  the  house  of  the  Sun.  Enter- 
ing, he  said  to  the  old  woman  there,  "Good  evening,  grandmother!"  — 

'  Compare  Sergio  Hernandez  cle  Soto,  Cuentos  populares  de  Extremadura,  in  BiblioUca 
de  las  tradiciones  populares  espaHolas,  vol.  x  (1886):  "EI  magico  Palermo,"  p.  48;  "El 
Caatillo  de  '  Iras  y  no  volveras."  p.  63;  "  Don  Juan  Jugador,"  p.  76;  "  Fernando,"  p.  90; 
and  Note,  p.  105.  Antonio  Machado  y  Alvarez,  Cuentos  populares  espaHoles,  Ibid.;  vol. 
i,  p.  126.  —  Ed. 


Fairy-  Tales  from  A zqueltan,  Jalisco  1 97 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  my  good  son?"  she  asked.  " WTien  my  son 
comes  home,  he  will  eat  you!"  Soon  they  heard  the  Sun  approaching; 
and  when  he  came  in,  he  was  very  angry.  "Mamma,  mamma!"  he 
cried.  "Here  is  a  human  being!  Give  him  to  me!  I  will  eat  him!" 
But  the  old  woman  only  replied,  "No,  my  son!  It  is  only  a  poor 
traveller,  who  is  stopping  here."  And  then  she  gave  the  Sun  a  little 
box  on  the  ear. 

Then  the  soldier  w^ent  on,  taking  three  leagues  at  a  step,  until  he 
came  to  the  house  of  the  Moon,  and  went  within  to  greet  the  occupants. 
Seeing  an  old  woman,  he  said  to  her,  "Good  evening,  grandmother ! "  — 
"Why  have  you  come  here,  my  good  son?"  she  asked.  "My  son  w^ill 
come  home  and  eat  you!"  And  soon  arrived  the  Moon,  very  angry, 
and  cried  out,  "Here  is  a  human  being!  Give  him  to  me!  I  will  eat 
him!"  But  the  old  woman,  the  mother  of  the  Moon,  merely  replied, 
"No,  my  son,  you  must  not  eat  him.  It  is  only  a  poor  traveller,  who 
is  stopping  here."     Then  she  boxed  his  ears. 

The  soldier  went  on  until  he  came  to  the  house  of  the  mother  of  the 
Wind.  Here  he  found  the  Wind  weeping  because  his  mother  had  just 
died.  So  he  said  to  the  Wind,  "What  will  you  give  me  if  I  revive 
her?"  —  "Would  that  you  could  do  so,  my  friend!"  cried  the  Wind. 
"If  you  succeed,  I  will  go  with  you  to  seek  your  lady."  Then  the 
soldier  hit  the  old  woman  three  times  with  his  magic  cudgel,  and  she 
rose  up  and  began  to  talk.  Then  the  soldier  said,  "Let  us  go  to  seek 
my  lady.  I  will  go  ahead,  and  you  follow  behind."  Then  he  set  out 
at  such  a  pace  that  the  Wind  was  unable  to  keep  up  with  him.  "  It  is 
these  boots  which  make  me  travel  so  fast,"  he  said  to  the  Wind. 
"Lend  me  one  of  them,"  replied  the  Wind.  "Then  we  may  converse 
as  we  go." 

Finally  the  Wind  said,  "Wait  here  a  little  while.  I  will  go  to  see 
the  maiden  for  whom  we  are  searching."  Presently  he  arrived,  and 
found  the  mother  of  the  maiden  warming  herself.  He  entered  very 
briskly;  and  the  old  woman  said,  "Daughter,  go  to  your  sister  and 
give  her  food."  So  the  girl  went  to  carry  the  food.  Then  the  Wind 
said,  "I  told  the  soldier  to  follow  a  little  ways  behind." 

Soon  the  soldier  came  in,  and  did  not  stop  until  he  had  looked 
through  the  entire  house  for  his  lady.  After  opening  the  seven  doors, 
he  at  last  found  her,  and  she  immediately  commenced  to  give  thanks 
to  GckI.  Then  she  and  the  soldier  began  to  arrange  a  plan  of  escape 
from  the  place  where  she  was  confined.  He  told  her  to  get  a  comb, 
a  brush  of  pine  needles,  a  thimbleful  of  ashes,  and  another  of  salt. 
Then  he  gave  her  a  piece  of  the  magic  hat,  a  bit  of  the  b<K)t,  and  another 
piece  of  the  cudgel.  He  embraced  her,  and  they  kft  the  room  wlure 
she  had  been  imprisoned.     Then  they  tletl. 

Soon  the  old  woman  found  that  they  were  gone,  and  commenced  to 


198  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

pursue  them,  and  soon  drew  near  to  them.  "Throw  down  the  piece 
of  comb!"  said  the  soldier;  and  immediately  there  grew  up  a  thick 
brush  behind  them,  and  the  fugitives  fled  on.  Soon  the  old  woman 
was  near  overtaking  them  again,  and  the  girl  threw  behind  them  the 
brush ;  and  immediately  there  grew  up  a  wood  of  spiny  pine-trees,  and 
the  fugitives  fled  on.  Again  the  old  woman  came  nearer,  and  this 
time  they  threw  down  the  thimble  of  ashes,  and  there  appeared  a  fog 
of  great  density,  and  the  fugitives  fled  on.  But  again  the  old  woman 
approached  them;  and  this  time  they  threw  down  the  thimble  of  salt, 
and  there  appeared  behind  them  a  great  river.  Then  the  old  woman 
sat  down  on  the  bank  and  began  to  weep,  crying,  "Oh,  ungrateful 
daughter!  The  grain  of  corn  will  return  in  the  spring  of  water!" 
Then  the  girl  turned  to  the  soldier,  and  said,  "You  have  released  me 
from  the  prison  where  I  was  confined,  but  not  from  the  curse  which 
my  mother  has  laid  upon  me." 

Soon  the  soldier  said  to  the  maiden,  "I  will  leave  you  here  a  little 
while,  and  go  to  see  my  parents."  —  "Very  well,"  she  replied.  "  I  will 
tie  three  knots  in  your  belt.  In  one  I  will  tie  my  clothes;  the  second 
is  that  you  may  not  forget  me;  and  the  third  is  that  you  do  not  allow 
your  parents,  nor  your  brothers  and  sisters,  nor  any  of  your  kinsfolk, 
to  embrace  you."  So  the  soldier  went  home  and  met  his  family;  but 
at  night,  while  he  was  sleeping,  his  grandmother  came  and  embraced 
him,  and  immediately  he  forgot  the  maiden  whom  he  had  left  at  the 
spring  of  water. 

Then  the  parents  of  the  soldier  decided  to  marry  him  with  another 
woman,  and  the  wedding  was  about  to  be  celebrated.  Then  there 
came  to  the  wedding  the  maiden  whom  the  soldier  had  left  at  the  spring 
of  water,  begging  that  she  be  allowed  to  give  an  entertainment  at  the 
wedding  feast.  So,  when  all  were  assembled,  she  took  two  little  doves, 
and  said  to  them,  "You  remember,  ungrateful  little  dove,  that  you 
released  me  from  the  prison  where  I  was  confined,  but  from  the  curse 
of  my  mother,  no!"  —  "Kurukuku,  I  do  not  remember."  —  "You 
remember,  ungrateful  little  dove,  that  you  left  me  at  the  spring  of 
water."  —  "  Kurukuku,  I  believe  that  I  am  beginning  to  remember." — 
"You  remember,  ungrateful  little  dove,  that  I  tied  my  clothes  in  your 
belt."  Then  the  little  dove  remembered,  and  the  soldier  embraced 
the  maiden  and  they  went  away.  But  the  other  woman  they  killed, 
and  so  ends  the  story  of  the  Sun  and  the  Moon. 

Philadelphia.  Pa., 
June  I,  1912. 


Stories  from  Tuxtepec,  Oaxaca  199 

STORIES   FROM   TUXTEPEC,   OAXACA 

BY    \VM.    H.    MECHLING 

The  following  stories  were  collected  in  Tuxtepec,  in  the  Mexican 
state  of  Oaxaca,  during  the  past  winter,  while  studying  the  dialect 
of  that  village  for  the  International  School  of  American  Archaeology 
and  Ethnology.  Since  very  little  is  known  about  the  ethnology  of 
that  part  of  Mexico,  a  short  description  of  Tuxtepec  and  its  inhab- 
itants may  not  be  out  of  place. 

Tuxtepec  is  a  pretty,  tropical  town  on  the  Rio  Popolohudpam,  not 
far  from  the  Vera  Cruz  border.  Being  the  outlet  of  the  famous 
tobacco  of  the  Valle  National,  and  of  the  coffee  of  the  Ejutla  district, 
it  is  a  rather  prominent  place  in  that  region.  It  is  only  about  two 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea-level,  and  therefore  resembles  the  state  of 
Vera  Cruz  climatically  more  than  the  state  of  Oaxaca. 

The  language  formerly  spoken  was  Mexican.  This  has  been 
superseded  by  Spanish,  partly  as  the  result  of  the  influx  of  new  settlers. 
Out  of  the  entire  population  of  several  thousand,  there  are  to-day  not 
over  a  hundred  who  understand  Mexican.  Of  these,  not  over  one- 
half  speak  it  fluently,  while  not  over  one-eighth  use  it  habitually. 
I  did  not  find  any  of  the  latter  number  satisfactory  informants. 

Though  Tuxtepec  itself  is  an  old  Aztec  village,  all  the  surrounding 
villages  are  either  Chinantec  or  Mazatec.  The  nearest  Aztec  village 
is  quite  a  distance  away,  over  a  hundred  kilometres  (and,  by  the  way, 
the  people  speak  a  different  dialect  of  Aztec). 

Tradition  says  that  Tuxtepec  was  occupied  by  a  garrison  of  Aztec 
troops,  who  collected  tribute  from  the  Chinantecs,  Mazatecs,  and 
Popolocos,  for  the  Mexican  Emperor.  If  this  is  true,  the  soldiers 
must  have  come  from  another  place  than  the  valley  of  Mexico,  for 
the  dialect  spoken  at  Tuxtepec  does  not  belong  to  that  group  of 
Mexican. 

There  are  several  places  not  far  from  Tuxtepec  where  archaeological 
remains  are  found,  which,  I  regret  to  say,  I  did  not  have  suflicicnt 
time  to  study  carefully.  The  most  important  of  these  is  about  a  mile 
above  Tuxtepec,  and  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  river.  On  the 
river  side  of  the  road  arc  several  mounds.  However,  there  are  no 
traces  of  architecture  or  pottery  on  them. 

A  little  farther  along,  on  the  opposite  sitle  of  the  road,  entirely 
iiiddcn  by  the  jungle,  is  what  is  locally  known  as  "The  I'ort,"  but  more 
probably  it  was  a  temple. 

Opposite  the  mounds  large  quantities  of  obsidian  rejects  are  found. 
In  all   probability  a  workshop  of  obsidian   implements  was  located 


200  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

there.  Broken  pieces  of  pottery  may  be  picked  up  practically  any- 
where within  a  radius  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The  type  of  this  pottery 
is  quite  different  from  that  found  in  the  valley  of  Mexico.  It  is  very 
thin  and  fine,  and  has  very  little  decoration  in  colors.  Small  heads  of 
men  and  animals,  a  little  over  an  inch  high,  are  quite  numerous. 

There  does  not  seem  to  be  an  abundance  of  folk-lore  of  any  descrip- 
tion among  the  present  inhabitants  of  Tuxtepec,  and  what  can  be 
found  is  chiefly  European.  However,  I  managed  to  collect  two 
versions  of  the  Coyote  story.  They  are  very  much  alike.  The 
only  episode  that  is  different  is  the  last  one. 

The  first  episode  —  "Rabbit  and  Tar  Baby"  —  is  quite  a  common 
one,  and  is  found  widely  distributed  over  America.  It  occurs  among 
the  Yuchi  in  almost  identical  form.  In  California  (Yana)  and  Oregon 
(Takelma)  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  Coyote  is  substituted  for 
Rabbit.     The  other  incidents  of  these  myths  call  for  no  comment. 

The  story  of  Lion  is  typical  of  the  European  folk-lore,  which  has 
largely  replaced  the  native  American. 

COYOTE  STORY  {first  versioti) 

An  old  woman  had  one  son.  This  son  cultivated  a  field  and  planted 
beans,  but  Rabbit  came  and  did  them  much  harm.  Indeed,  he  did 
them  much  damage.  Said  the  son  to  his  mother,  "What  shall  we  do 
to  catch  Rabbit?"  His  mother  answered,  "We  will  make  a  doll-baby, 
and  place  it  where  Rabbit  enters  the  field."  So  they  made  the  doll- 
baby  and  placed  it  where  Rabbit  entered. 

That  night  Rabbit  came  and  fell  over  the  doll-baby,  and  stuck 
fast  with  one  foot.  Then  Rabbit  said,  "Let  go,  and  give  me  room  to 
pass!"  The  doll-baby  did  not  answer;  so  this  made  Rabbit  angry, 
and  he  said,  "If  you  do  not  give  me  room  to  pass,  I  shall  hit  you." 
But  the  doll-baby  did  not  answer.  Then  Rabbit  struck  him,  and 
said,  "You  will  see  how  I  shall  hit  you."  But  his  hand  stuck  fast, 
and  he  cried,  "Let  me  go,  or  I  will  give  you  another  blow!"  So  he 
kicked  him,  and  his  foot  stuck  fast;  and  Rabbit  cried,  "Let  me  go, 
or  I  shall  strike  you  again!"  The  doll-baby  did  not  answer;  so  this 
made  Rabbit  more  angry,  and  he  struck  him  again.  Then  he  was 
fast  with  both  hands  and  feet. 

Now  Rabbit  said,  "Let  me  go,  or  I  shall  bite  you!"  Again  the 
doll-baby  did  not  reply,  and  again  he  got  angry  and  bit  the  doll-baby. 

Now  he  was  fast  with  hands  and  feet  and  mouth.  A  little  later 
the  old  woman  came,  and  said,  "What  are  you  doing,  Rabbit?  Now 
you  have  finished  eating  my  bean-field."  Then  she  seized  Rabbit  and 
put  him  in  a  bag,  and  tied  the  mouth  of  the  bag.  Next  the  old 
woman  went  to  her  house  to  heat  a  spit.  While  she  was  gone.  Coyote 
came,  and  found  Rabbit  in  the  bag.     Coyote  said  to  him,  "What  are 


Stories  from  Tuxtepec,  Oaxaca  201 

you  doing  here?"  Rabbit  answered,  "I  am  tied  in  here,  because  the 
old  woman  wants  me  to  marry  her  daughter;  but  I  don't  want  to  marry 
her,  because  I  am  very  small,  and  the  girl  is  very  large."  Then 
Coyote  said,  "Come  out,  and  I  will  get  in!"  So  Rabbit  jumped  out, 
and  Coyote  got  in.  Then  Rabbit  tied  up  the  mouth  of  the  bag  and 
ran  away. 

Then  the  old  woman  came  with  her  spit  which  she  had  heated,  and, 
thinking  Rabbit  was  in  the  bag,  she  stuck  the  spit  into  Coyote.  Then 
Coyote  ran  away.  Meanwhile  Rabbit  had  gone  into  a  wood,  and  was 
in  a  zapote-tree  eating  zapotes.  Coyote  passed  by,  and  Rabbit  called 
to  him,  "Where  are  you  going.  Uncle  Coyote?"  Coyote  answered, 
"  Now  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  But  Rabbit  answered,  "  Don't  eat  me! 
I  am  going  to  give  you  a  zapote."  —  "Well,"  said  Coyote,  "throw  me 
one!"  So  Rabbit  threw  him  first  a  good  one;  but  afterwards  he 
threw  him  a  green  one,  which  stuck  fast  in  his  throat.  W^hile  Coyote 
was  choking.  Rabbit  ran  away,  and  hid  in  a  place  where  there  were 
many  reeds.     Here  he  was  playing  on  a  guitar  when  Coyote  passed. 

He  said  to  Coyote,  "Where  are  you  going?"  Coyote  answered, 
"Now  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  Rabbit  answered,  "Don't  eat  me!  I 
am  hiding  here,  waiting  for  the  bride  and  groom.  They  have  just 
gone  to  get  married.  Come  here  and  play!  When  you  hear  the 
noise  of  their  approach,  play  louder."  So  Rabbit  went  to  set  fire  to 
the  reeds,  and  then  ran  and  hid  in  the  thick  underbush. 

The  fire  came  and  burnt  Coyote,  who  then  fled  in  search  of  Rabbit, 
Meanwhile  Rabbit  had  gotten  under  a  stone.  Coyote  passed  by; 
and  Rabbit  shouted,  "Halloo,  Coyote!" 

Then  said  Coyote,  "Now,  surely,  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  —  "No, 
don't  eat  me!  If  you  do,  the  world  will  end.  Come  here.  Uncle 
Coyote,  and  get  under  this  stone;  for,  if  this  stone  is  thrown  down, 
the  world  will  come  to  an  end." 

So  Coyote  got  under  the  stone;  and  Rabbit  ran  behind  him  and 
threw  another  stone  on  top  of  it,  so  that  Coyote  died;  and  Rabbit 
said,  "Now  you  are  dying,  but  I  am  free." 

COYOTE  STORY  {sccotid  versiott) 

This  version  is  not  as  clear  as  the  first,  and  seems  to  have  several 
omissions.     It  differs  but  slightly  from  the  first. 

The  old  woman  bought  a  doll-baby  imuneco),  and  placed  it  at  the 
entrance  of  her  bean-ficld.  When  Rabbit  came  there  and  found 
the  doll-baby,  he  said  to  it,  "Friend,  give  me  room  to  pass."  Since 
the  doll-baby  clid  not  answer,  Ral)l)it  got  angry,  and  sla|i|)ed  the 
doll-b.iby.  His  hand  stuck  fast.  [The  doll-baby  was  evidently  made 
of  tar,  or  some  such  adhesive  substance,  although  neither  version  states 
this  to  be  the  ca.se.] 


202  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

He  then  repeated,  "Give  me  room  to  pass!"  Since  the  doll-baby 
did  not  seem  to  want  to  give  him  room,  he  kicked  it,  and  found  that 
his  foot  also  stuck  fast.  Then  Rabbit  said,  "Let  me  go,  or  I'll  bite 
you!"  Since  the  doll-baby  did  not  answer,  he  bit  him.  Then  his 
hands  and  feet  and  teeth  were  all  fast. 

Then  the  old  woman  came  up,  and  said  to  the  knave  (picaro),  "  Have 
you  already  fallen  into  my  hands?"  Saying  this,  she  picked  him  up 
and  put  him  in  a  bag.  Then  she  went  away  to  heat  a  spit  to  cook 
Rabbit  on. 

While  she  was  gone,  Uncle  Coyote  came  up,  and  said,  "Nephew, 
what  are  you  doing  in  that  bag?" 

Rabbit  answered,  "They  want  me  to  get  married;  but  I  don't  want 
to,  because  I  am  very  small,  while  the  girl  is  very  large.  You,  uncle, 
are  very  large,  so  get  inside  in  my  place."  Coyote  did  as  was  sug- 
gested, and  Rabbit  ran  away. 

A  little  later  the  old  woman  returned  with  her  spit,  and  stuck  Coyote 
with  it;  so  Coyote  jumped  up  and  ran  in  search  of  Rabbit.  He 
found  him  in  a  zapote-tree,  eating  zapotes. 

Coyote  said  to  the  knave,  "Now  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  But 
Rabbit  answered,  "Now,  look  here,  uncle!  Don't  eat  me!  See  what 
fine  zapotes  these  are,  eat  a  fine  ripe  one  of  these!" 

"Well,  then,  throw  me  one!"  said  Coyote;  and  Rabbit  threw 
Coyote  a  ripe  one,  which  he  ate.  The  next  one  that  Rabbit  threw 
him  was  a  green  one,  and  this  stuck  in  Coyote's  throat  and  choked 
him.     Rabbit  climbed  down  and  ran  away,  while  Coyote  was  choking. 

When  Coyote  recovered,  he  went  in  search  of  Rabbit.  He  found 
him  in  a  place  where  reed-grass  abounds,  lying  in  a  hammock  and 
playing  a  guitar. 

Coyote  said  to  Rabbit,  "Now,  surely,  I  am  going  to  eat  you!" 
But  Rabbit  answered,  "No,  Uncle,  don't  do  that!  Don't  you  see 
why  I  am  hidden  here?  Now  there  is  going  to  be  a  wedding,  so  I  am 
waiting  to  serenade  the  bride  and  groom;  you  can  help  me.  I  will  go 
to  find  the  rest  of  the  party.  When  you  hear  the  noise  of  the  wedding 
party  approaching,  play  all  the  louder  and  faster  until  the  couple 
arrives."  Coyote  agreed,  and  in  this  manner  Rabbit  was  able  to 
escape,  leaving  Coyote  playing.  So  Rabbit  set  fire  to  the  reeds. 
When  Coyote  heard  the  noise  of  the  fire,  he  played  all  the  louder, 
thinking  it  was  the  wedding  party  approaching. 

Finally  Coyote  saw  the  fire;  so  he  fled  in  search  of  Rabbit,  in  order 
to  revenge  himself.  He  found  Rabbit  on  the  shore  of  a  lake,  and  said 
to  him,  "Now,  knave,  surely  you  will  not  escape  from  m.y  hands!" 
But  Rabbit  answered,  "First  let  us  eat  some  cheese!  Don't  you  see 
that  one  out  in  the  lake?  We  will  drink  all  the  water  we  can,  and  then 
take  a  rest." 


Stories  from  Tuxtepec,  Oaxaca  203 

So  they  started  to  drink;  and  Coyote  drank  so  much,  that  he  burst 
his  stomach  and  died.  However,  it  was  not  cheese,  but  the  reflection 
of  the  sun  in  the  lake. 

THE   LION 

A  hungry'  Hon  pursued  a  calf  and  a  lamb,  which,  full  of  fear,  fled, 
and  hid  in  a  dense  forest.  The  Lion,  who  was  very  weak  from  hunger, 
said  to  himself,  "I  am  going  to  die."  Then  he  shouted  and  yelled, 
saying  that  he  was  very  sick,  for  he  thought  this  pretext  would  serve 
to  bring  some  animals  to  him. 

There  were  several  who  were  in  the  vicinity;  but  they  remembered 
that  the  Lion  was  sick  on  account  of  hunger,  and  would  cat  all  who 
came  to  see  him. 

The  Fox  was  one  of  these.  He  drew  near  to  the  door  of  the  Lion's 
den.  When  the  Lion  saw  him,  he  said,  "Come  in  and  sit  down  beside 
me,  just  as  the  other  animals  do,  for  I  am  very  fond  of  the  Fox!" 
But  the  Fox  answered,  "  I  can  come  in,  but  I  couldn't  go  out."  So  he 
departed. 

Harvard  University, 
Cambridge,  Mass. 


204  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


NOTES  ON  MEXICAN  FOLK-LORE 

BY   FRANZ    BOAS 

The  following  notes  were  collected  while  I  was  engaged  in  work  for 
the  International  School  of  American  Archaeology  and  Ethnology 
in  Mexico. 

I.  FOLK-LORE  OF  POCHULATA,  OAXACA 

In  January  and  February  of  this  year  I  visited  Pochutla,  a  village 
in  the  southern  part  of  Oaxaca,  not  far  from  Puerto  Angel  on  the 
Pacific  coast,  and  about  one  hundred  miles  west  of  Tehuantepec. 
In  former  times  Zapotecan  was  spoken  in  all  the  villages  around 
Pochutla,  while  in  the  village  itself  a  dialect  closely  akin  to  the 
Mexican  (Nahua)  of  the  valley  of  Mexico  was  spoken.  The  dialect 
is  almost  extinct,  but  I  was  able  to  collect  enough  to  show  its  close 
relation  to  the  Mexican  dialects  of  southern  Vera  Cruz,  and  probably 
of  Tabasco.  The  people  of  Pochutla  to-day  speak  Spanish,  and  their 
folk-lore  is  based  largely  on  Spanish  sources.  An  important  position 
among  the  folk-tales  is  held  by  the  "Rabbit  and  Coyote"  tales,  which 
are  known  from  Mexico  City  eastward  to  the  Gulf  coast,  and  south- 
ward to  Central  America. 

Besides  the  tales,  I  recorded  a  number  of  verses  which  are  sung  to 
the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar,  riddles,  and  "decimas"  such  as  are 
presented  by  young  men  to  the  girls  whom  they  court.  The  tales  were 
dictated  to  me  by  an  elderly  man,  Pedro  Marcelino  Pastor,  and  by  his 
daughters.     I  give  here  English  translations  and  the  Spanish  original. 

I.    TALE   OF   THE    RABBIT 

There  was  a  woman  who  had  a  c/it/e-garden ;  and  every  day  she 
went  to  watch  it,  because  the  Rabbit  ate  much  of  it.  One  day  she 
went,  and  on  the  road  met  an  arriera,^  and  asked  her  if  she  did 
not  know  how  to  prevent  the  Rabbit  from  eating  the  chile.  The 
arriera  replied  that  she  did  not  know,  and  that  she  should  ask  her 
sister  the  barendera,^  who  came  behind.  She  met  the  barendera,  and 
asked  her.  Then  she  said  that  she  should  make  four  little  monkeys 
of  wax,  and  that  she  should  nail  them  up  in  the  opening  in  the  wall 
where  the  Rabbit  entered,  two  on  each  side,  and  that  she  should  go 
the  next  day  to  see  if  the  Rabbit  had  fallen  into  the  trap. 

She  placed  the  four  little  monkeys  of  wax;  and  the  Rabbit  arrived, 
and  said  to  them,  "See  here,  monkey  of  wax!  If  you  do  not  let  me 
pass,  I'll  box  your  ears;"  and  he  boxed  his  ears,  and  his  little  hand 
stuck  fast.  He  said  again,  "Look  here,  little  monkey  of  wax!  If  you 
don't  let  me  pass,  I  have  another  hand,  and  I'll  box  your  ears  again;" 

1 A  kind  of  ant. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  205 

and  he  boxed  his  ears,  and  the  other  Httle  hand  stuck  fast.  He  said 
again,  "Look  here,  Httle  monkey  of  wax!  If  you  do  not  let  go  of  my 
little  hands,  I'll  kick  you;"  and  he  kicked  him,  and  his  little  foot 
stuck  fast.  He  said  again,  "Look  here,  little  monkey  of  wax!  If  you 
don't  let  go  of  my  hands  and  of  my  foot,  I'll  kick  you  again.  I  have 
ianother  little  foot." 

They  were  talking  thus  when  the  good  little  daughter  arrived,  and 
said  to  him,  "Ah,  it  must  be  you  who  eats  my  chile!  Now  you'll  pay 
it  to  me."  She  put  him  in  a  net  which  she  was  carrying,  and  took 
him  to  her  house.  When  she  arrived,  she  hung  him  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  house,  and  said,  "What  shall  I  do  with  you?"  She  thought 
she  would  throw  boiling  water  over  him;  but  the  lady  had  no  water, 
and  went  to  fetch  it  and  left  the  door  locked. 

The  Rabbit  was  still  hanging  in  the  net;  but  since  the  house  stood 
by  the  roadside,  it  so  happened  that  a  Coyote  passed  by,  and  the 
Rabbit,  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  Coyote,  began  to  talk,  to  speak,  and 
said,  "How  can  they  want  to  marry  me  by  force  —  me,  who  is  so 
small,  and  I  do  not  want  to  marry!"  Then  the  Coyote  drew  near, 
and  asked  him  what  he  was  saying;  and  Rabbit  spoke  to  him,  (asking 
him)  if  he  (the  Coyote)  would  not  place  himself  in  that  net,  for  he 
himself  was  caught  in  the  net  because  they  wanted  to  marry  him  to  a 
pretty  girl,  and  he  did  not  want  to  marry.  Then  the  Coyote  said 
to  him  that  he  accepted  what  the  Rabbit  proposed.  The  Coyote 
placed  himself  in  the  net,  and  the  Rabbit  escaped. 

When  the  dear  old  woman  found  the  Coyote,  she  said  to  him,  "Ah, 
how  did  the  Rabbit  turn  into  a  Coyote!"  put  the  pot  of  water  over 
the  fire,  and,  when  it  was  boiling,  she  threw  it  over  the  Coyote.  The 
Coyote  was  burnt,  but  only  his  backside  was  burnt.  Then  the 
Coyote  left,  rolling  himself  on  the  road,  but  the  Rabbit  was  on  a 
^i/a/za^'a-plantation . 

When  the  Coyote  passed  by,  the  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "Good -day. 
Uncle  Coyote!"  and  then  the  Coyote  turned  to  see  who  spoke  to  him, 
and  the  Coyote  said,  "Why  did  you  deceive  me?"  And  the  Rabbit 
rci)lied,  "Because  they  did  not  find  me,  they  punished  you;  but  really 
I  was  about  to  marry  a  girl."  Then  he  said  to  him,  "Better  let  us 
eat  pitahayas,'"  and  threw  one  down  from  above.  He  said  to  him, 
"Shut  your  eyes  and  open  your  mouth!"  He  threw  one  down,  and 
then  another  one.  The  two  were  clean;  but  the  third  one  he  did  not 
clean,  but  threw  it  down  with  all  the  spines  on  it.  The  Coyote 
nulled  about,  and  the  Rabbit  went  away. 

He  saw  the  Coyote  pass  by,  and  said  to  him,  "Coyote,  burnt 
backsides!"  The  Coyote  said,  "What  do  you  say  to  me?"  and  the 
Rabbit  replied,  "  I  say  to  you,  that  you  shall  come  and  help  me  rock 
my  little  sister,  who  is  crying,  and   my  mother  is  not  here."     The 


2o6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Coyote  did  not  reply  to  this.  "You  owe  mc  much.  You  deceived 
me,  saying  that  I  was  going  to  marry,  and  then  you  threw  me  a 
pitahaya  with  spines,  and  now  I'll  take  revenge  for  what  you  have 
done  to  me."  He  said  to  him,  "But  I  do  not  know  you,  and  have 
never  seen  you.  Maybe  those  are  others,  perhaps  my  brothers." 
And  the  Coyote  said  to  him,  "Then  you  have  brothers?"  —  "Cer- 
tainly," he  said  to  him.  "Man  alive,  who  knows  which  one  that 
may  be!"  —  "And  you,  what  are  you  doing  here?"  —  "My  mother 
has  been  away  a  long  time  to  get  tortillas  to  eat,  and  left  me  here 
rocking  this  little  girl.  Now  I  wish  that  you  would  stay  here  in  my 
place,  while  I  go  to  look  for  her,  that  she  may  come."  The  Coyote 
staid  there.  When  the  Rabbit  left,  he  said  to  him,  "If  you  see  that 
my  sister  does  not  stop  crying,  box  her  ears  and  leave  her."  The 
Coyote  did  so.  He  got  tired  of  rocking  the  cradle,  and  the  noise 
did  not  stop.  He  boxed  her  ears  with  vigor,  and  out  came  a  swarm 
of  wasps,  who  gave  the  Coyote  a  good  dose  and  flew  away. 

The  Coyote  followed  the  road,  and  said  to  himself,  "Where  shall 
I  find  the  Rabbit?"  He  walked  along  the  road.  The  Rabbit  spoke 
to  him,  and  said,  "Coyote,  burnt  backsides!"  and  the  Coyote  asked 
him  what  he  was  saying.  The  Rabbit  said  to  him  that  he  was  asking 
him  to  help  him  pull  out  a  cheese  that  was  there.  The  Rabbit  was 
in  a  pond,  and  the  moon  was  shining  and  was  seen  in  the  water,  and 
this  was  the  cheese  which  the  Rabbit  said  he  was  pulling  out.  The 
Rabbit  left  the  Coyote  there,  saying  that  he  was  going  to  rest  for  a 
while,  because  he  was  very  tired.  The  Coyote  began  to  pull  at  the 
cheese;  but  since  he  could  never  do  it,  he  got  tired  and  went  on  his  way. 

After  that  he  walked  along  the  road,  when  the  Rabbit  spoke  to 
him,  and  said,  "Good-day,  Uncle  Coyote!"  The  Coyote  said  to  him, 
"Now  you  won't  escape  me,  for  you  have  deceived  me  much."  — 
"  No,"  said  the  Rabbit  to  him,  "it  is  not  I.  Since  the  world  has  existed 
I  have  been  placed  here  in  this  place,  with  this  stone  in  my  hand;" 
for  the  Rabbit,  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  the  Coyote,  put  a  large  stone 
into  his  hand,  and  said  that  he  had  been  left  right  there  supporting 
that  stone,  for,  if  he  let  go  of  it,  the  world  would  be  lost.  The  Coyote 
believed  him;  and  the  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "Sir,  will  you  not  help  me 
a  little  while  with  this  stone,  for  I  am  very  tired?"  The  Coyote 
took  the  stone.  The  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "O  Uncle  Coyote,  sir! 
Don't  let  go  of  the  stone,  else  the  world  will  be  lost." 

The  Rabbit  went  away,  saying  to  the  Coyote  that  he  would  soon 
return;  but  the  Rabbit  did  not  come  back.  He  went  on;  and  the 
Coyote,  who  was  tired,  let  the  stone  down  gradually,  and  looked  at 
the  sky  to  see  if  it  was  coming  down.  But  when  he  looked  and  saw 
that  it  was  not  so,  he  let  the  stone  down  until  he  put  it  down  on  the 
ground. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  207 

He  left  it  and  went,  and  said,  "Whenever  I  find  the  Rabbit,  I 
must  kill  him,  because  he  has  fooled  me  too  much." 

The  Rabbit  placed  himself  by  the  wayside,  among  the  reeds.  When 
the  Coyote  passed  by,  the  Rabbit  held  a  guitar,  which,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  the  Coyote,  he  began  to  play,  and  said,  "Good-day,  Uncle 
Coyote!"  The  Coyote  said  to  him,  "Come  down,  that  we  may  talk 
together!"  —  "No,  Uncle  Coyote!  Indeed,  sir,  you  are  much 
annoyed  with  me."  The  Coyote  said  to  him,  "You  have  deceived  me 
much,  and  therefore  I  am  annoyed."  —  "No,  Uncle  Coyote,"  he  said 
to  him,  "I  am  the  best  one  of  all,  and,  sir,  don't  be  annoyed  with  me. 
I  know  well  what  has  happened,  but  I  did  not  do  those  things.  My 
brother,  he  is  a  very  bad  one,  it  is  he  who  has  done  all  these  things. 
But  now  he  is  about  to  marry,  and  I  am  waiting  for  them.  They 
have  been  delayed  a  very  long  time.  Who  knows  what  they  are 
doing!  I  should  like  to  go  and  look  for  them  if  you  would  stay  here 
and  play  the  guitar;  I'll  give  you  a  sign,  sir,  when  the  bridal  couple  are 
coming.  I'll  fire  some  rockets,  so  that  you  may  know  it,  sir;  and  then 
you  must  play  more  strongly,  so  that  they  can  dance  when  they 
come." 

The  Coyote  did  so.  The  Rabbit  went.  After  a  little  while  the 
Rabbit  came  and  set  fire  to  the  reeds.  The  Coyote,  believing  that 
the  bridal  couple  were  coming,  continued  to  play  and  began  to  dance. 
Before  he  knew  it,  he  was  in  the  midst  of  the  flames.  He  could  not 
escape;  and  the  poor  Coyote  was  burnt,  and  died. 

The  Rabbit  came  to  look,  and  mourned  the  death  of  the  Coyote, 
and  said  to  himself,  "Poor  Uncle  Coyote!  Now  he  is  dead,  indeed, 
and  where  shall  I  go  now?" 

The  Rabbit  went  to  the  bank  of  a  river.  He  could  not  cross  the 
river,  and  began  to  say,  "Whoever  takes  me  across  may  eat  me." 
He  was  saying  thus,  when  the  Alligator  came,  and  said  to  him,  "I'll 
take  you  across."  —  "Well!"  said  the  Rabbit.  He  climbed  up  on  the 
back  of  the  Alligator.  When  he  came  near  the  other  bank,  the  Alli- 
gator said  to  him,  "Now  I  am  going  to  eat  you."  —  "And  don't  you 
feel  any  pity,"  replied  the  Rabbit,  "to  eat  such  a  little  fatty  as  myself?" 
The  Alligator  said,  "What  shall  we  do?"  —  "Let  us  go  nearer  the 
bank,"  replied  the  Rabbit,  "  that  you  may  eat  me  easily,  sir."  Already 
they  were  on  the  bank.  The  Rabbit  said  to  the  Alligator,  "Does  it 
not  seem  to  you,  sir,  that  there  are  some  large  leaves  there?  I'll 
fetch  them;  and  then  I  shall  throw  myself  down,  that  you  may  not 
lose  anything."  The  Alligator  agreed.  The  Rabbit  went,  and  never 
came  back. 

On  the  other,  side  there  were  old  stubblos;  and  tin-  Rabi)it  found 
only  a  little  piece  of  field,  and  thou^lit,  "I'll  sell  much  corn,  and  to 
whom  shall  I  sell  it?     I'll  sell  one  bushel  to  Aunt  Cockroach,  another 

VOL.   XXV. — NO.   96.  — 14 


2o8  Journal  oj  American  Folk- Lore 

one  to  Aunt  Hen,  one  to  Uncle  Dog,  one  to  Uncle  Lion,  and  one  to 
Uncle  Hunter." 

The  time  came  when  the  corn  was  to  be  delivered.  The  Rabbit 
had  a  little  ranch;  and  when  he  went  out  to  take  a  walk,  he  used  to 
lock  the  door  of  the  ranch.  Since,  however,  he  had  fooled  the  Alli- 
gator and  owed  him  his  life,  the  Alligator  informed  himself  as  to 
where  he  lived,  and  went  to  place  himself  near  his  bed,  that  the 
Alligator  might  eat  the  Rabbit  when  he  arrived. 

The  Rabbit  was  on  his  guard;  and  when  he  arrived,  he  said,  "Good- 
day,  dear  House!"  The  House  never  replied;  but  one  day  when  he 
said,  "Good-day,  dear  House!"  the  Alligator  replied,  "Good-day, 
Rabbit!"  —  "What?  You  never  answer  me,  dear  House!"  He 
opened  the  door,  looked  inside,  and,  when  he  saw  the  back  of  the 
Alligator,  he  said,  "What  are  those  pegs  that  I  see  here?  I  am  not  a 
guitar-player,  and  I  am  not  a  violinist.  I  had  better  go  to  another 
ranch!" 

There  he  was  when  the  Cockroach  arrived.  "Good-day,  Uncle 
Rabbit ! "  —  "Good-day,  Aunt  Cockroach."  — "  I  come  for  my  corn."  — 
"All  right,  only  it  is  very  early.  Let  us  lunch  first,  and  then  we  will 
go."  They  were  waiting  for  their  lunch  when  they  saw  the  Hen. 
The  Rabbit  said  to  the  Cockroach,  "Listen,  Aunt  Cockroach!  Will 
not  the  Hen  want  to  eat  you?"  —  "Certainly,  where  shall  I  hide?" 
The  Rabbit  said  to  her,  "Madam,  hide  under  this  piece  of  bark  here." 

When  the  Hen  arrived,  "Good-day,  Uncle  Rabbit!"  —  "Good-day, 
Aunt  Hen!"  —  "I  came  for  my  corn."  —  "Certainly,  let  us  first  take 
lunch,  and  then  we  will  go  and  shell  it."  The  Hen  sat  down;  and  the 
Rabbit  said  to  her,  "Madam,  would  you  not  like  to  eat  a  cockroach?" 
—  " Certainly,"  said  the  Hen,  "where  is  it? "  The  Rabbit  showed  her 
the  cockroach;  and  the  Rabbit  said,  "Thus  I  am  getting  rid  of  my 
troubles." 

The  Rabbit  and  the  Hen  were  talking  when  they  discovered  the  Dog, 
who  was  coming.  The  Rabbit  said,  "Where  are  you  going  to  hide, 
madam?  for  the  Dog  is  coming,  and  will  want  to  eat  you.  Hide  under 
this  carrying-basket."     The  Hen  hid,  and  the  Dog  arrived. 

"Good-day,  Uncle  Rabbit!"  —  "Good-day,  Uncle  Dog!"  — "I 
came  for  my  corn."  —  "Certainly!  Sit  down  for  a  moment."  The 
Dog  seated  himself;  and  the  Rabbit  said,  "Listen,  sir!  Would  you 
not  like  to  eat  a  hen?"  —  "Where  is  it?"  —  "  It  is  under  this  basket." 
The  Dog  ate  the  hen,  and  continued  to  talk  with  the  Rabbit. 

They  were  still  talking  when  they  saw  the  Lion;  and  the  Rabbit 
asked  the  Dog  if  he  was  not  afraid  that  the  Lion  would  eat  him. 
The  Dog  said,  "I  am  frightened.  Where  shall  I  hide?"  and  the  Dog 
hid  behind  the  house. 

The    Lion    arrived.     "Good-day,    Uncle    Rabbit!"  —  "Good-day, 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk -Lore  209 

Uncle  Lion!" — "I  came  for  my  corn."  The  Rabbit  said  to  him, 
"Sir,  enter  for  a  moment,  we  will  go  right  away."  The  Lion  entered; 
and  the  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "I'll  tell  you  something,  sir.  Would 
you  not  like  to  eat  a  dog?"  —  "Why  not?  Where  is  it?"  The 
Rabbit  showed  him  where  the  dog  was,  and  the  Lion  ate  it  at  once. 

There  they  were  still  talking  when  they  discovered  the  Hunter,  who 
was  coming;  and  the  Rabbit  said,  "Will  he  not  want  to  kill  you,  sir?"  — 
"Certainly,"  said  the  Lion.  "Where  shall  I  hide?"  —  "Hide  on 
the  rafter  of  the  house.  There  he  will  not  see  you,  sir,  even  if  he 
should  come.     He  will  not  do  you  any  harm." 

The  Hunter  arrived.  "Good-day,  Uncle  Rabbit!"  —  "Good-day, 
Uncle  Hunter!"  —  "I  came  for  my  corn."  —  "Certainly,"  he  said  to 
him.  "Come  in,  sir,  and  take  a  lunch  first  of  hot  cakes  and  fresh 
cheese,  and  then  we  will  go  to  shell  the  corn.  This  is  the  only  remaining 
debt  that  I  have.  Meanwhile,  sir,  would  you  not  like  to  kill  a  lion?" 
The  Hunter  said  "Where  is  it?"  The  Rabbit  showed  him  where  the 
lion  was,  which  the  Hunter  killed.  The  Hunter  killed  the  lion,  and 
the  Rabbit  made  his  escape.  When  the  Hunter  came  back  to  the 
house  to  look  for  the  Rabbit,  he  did  not  find  him.  The  Rabbit  had 
gone  away. 

He  went  on,  and  met  a  Serpent,  who  was  under  a  stone  and  could 
in  no  way  get  out;  and  she  asked  every  one  who  passed  to  pull  her  out. 
The  Rabbit  took  pity  on  her  and  went  to  get  some  levers.  He  lifted 
the  stone,  and  the  Serpent  was  able  to  get  out.  When  she  was  free, 
she  wanted  to  cat  the  Rabbit,  Then  he  said  to  her,  "Why  do  you 
want  to  do  this  to  me?  Haven't  I  done  you  a  favor  in  taking  you 
out  from  under  that  stone?"  The  Serpent  said  to  him,  "Certainly, 
but  don't  you  know  that  a  good  deed  is  repaid  by  evil  deeds?"  — 
"Allow  me  three  witnesses  before  I  die." 

When  two  horses  came  down,  the  Rabbit  said,  "Excuse  me,  gentle- 
men! Just  one  word!  Is  it  true  that  a  good  deed  is  repaid  by  an  evil 
deed?"  —  "That  is  very  true,"  said  the  Horse,  "for  formerly  I  was  a 
good  horse  for  my  master.  When  he  was  a  boy,  he  loved  me  well, 
and  fefl  me  well.  Now  I  am  old,  and  he  has  let  me  go  into  the  fields 
without  caring  how  I  fare.  Thus  it  is  well  said  that  good  deeds  are 
repaid  by  bad  ones." 

The  Serpent  said  tf)  him,  "Now,  do  you  see?  You  have  only  two 
more  chances."  When  two  Steers  passed  by,  the  Rabbit  said, 
"Excuse  mc,  gentlemen!  Just  one  word!  Is  it  true  that  a  go<Kl  deed 
is  repaid  by  evil  ones?"  The  Steers  s.iid,  "  I'lven  if  it  causes  sorrow, 
f(jr  once  my  master  considered  me  a  valuable  animal.  I  served  him 
well  in  my  time.  I  was  very  obedient.  As  I  scrvctl  him,  he  love<l  mc 
well.  Now  I  am  old;  I  am  useless;  and  he  has  said  that  he  has  let  me 
i^n  to  the  field  to  re(  uper.ite  a  little,  so  lli.ii   \u-  can  kill  me." 


2IO  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

They  went  on,  and  met  a  Donkey.  He  was  standing  on  one  side 
of  the  road,  and  was  very  sad.  "Friend,"  said  the  Rabbit,  "is  it  true 
that  a  good  deed  is  repaid  by  evil  ones? "  —  "Even  if  it  causes  sorrow," 
answered  the  Donkey,  "for  I  gave  good  service  to  my  master  when  he 
was  a  boy;  and  to-day,  when  I  am  okl,  he  does  not  want  to  look  at 
me.  I  just  come  from  receiving  a  sound  beating,  which  they  gave  me 
because  I  went  to  see  my  master." — "There  is  no  help,"  said  the 
Serpent,  "you  must  di?." 

They  were  talking  when  a  Rooster  passed  by;  and  he  said  to  him, 
"Friend,  I  must  die  because  of  a  good  deed."  —  "What  good  deed 
have  you  done?"  said  the  Rooster.  "  I  pulled  the  Serpent  from  under 
a  stone,  where  she  had  been  a  long  time."  The  Rooster  said,  "How 
was  she?"  The  Serpent  placed  herself  just  in  the  same  way  as  she 
had  been  under  the  rock;  and  he  said,  "That  is  the  way  you  were 
placed?"  The  Serpent  replied,  "Yes."  Then  he  said,  "If  you 
were  in  this  position,  stay  in  it."  The  Rabbit  replied,  "I  owe  you 
my  life." 

He  followed  on  his  way;  and  they  were  nearing  a  town,  when  the 
Hunter  arrived  at  his  house,  and  saw  the  Rabbit.  "There  is  no  help, 
I'll  kill  you."  He  put  a  ball  through  him,  and  the  Rabbit  died.  The 
Hunter  took  the  Rabbit,  who  was  half  dead;  and  the  Rabbit  said, 
"Now  I  believe  that  a  good  deed  is  repaid  by  evil  ones."  ^ 

EL    CUENTO    DEL    CONEJO ^ 

Estaba  una  seiiora  que  tenia  un  chilarro  y  todos  los  dias  lo  iba  cuidando  porque 
mucho  lo  comi6  el  conejo.  Un  dia  fue  y  se  encontr6  con  una  arriera  en  el 
camino  y  le  dijo  que  si  sabia  un  remedio  para  curar  el  conejo  que  no  comiera 
el  chilarro.  La  arriera  contcst6  que  no  sabia,  que  le  preguntara  a  su  hermana 
que  era  la  barendera  que  atras  venia.  Se  encontr6  con  la  barendera  y  la  pre- 
gunt6.  Entonces  ella  le  dijo  que  hiciera  cuatro  monitos  de  cera,  y  que  los  clavara 
en  el  portillo  4  donde  entraba  el  conejo,  dos  a  cada  lado,  y  que  al  dia  siguiente 
fuera  a  ver  si  ya  habia  caido  el  conejo  en  la  trampa. 

Puso  los  cuatro  monitos  de  cera,  y  el  conejo  lleg6,  y  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "  Mira, 
monito  de  cera,  si  no  me  dejas  pasar  te  doy  una  trompada,"  y  le  di6  la  trompada 
y  quedo  la  manita  pegada.  Le  volvi6  4  decir,  "  Mira,  monito  de  cera,  si  no  me 
dejas  pasar  tengo  mi  otra  manita,  y  te  doy  otra  trompada,"  y  le  di6  la  trompada 
y  qued6  la  otra  manita  pegada.  Le  volvi6  4  decir,  "Mira,  monito  de  cera,  si 
no  sueltas  mis  manitas  te  doy  una  patada,"  y  le  di6  la  patada;  y  qued6  la  patita 
pegada.  Le  volvi6  k  decir,  "Mira,  monito  de  cera,  si  no  sueltas  mis  manitas 
y  mi  patita  te  doy  otra  patada.     Tengo  mi  patita." 

En  estas  pldticas  estaban  cuando  lleg6  la  buena  viejita  y  Ic  dijo,  "Ah,  tu  eres 
quien  comes  mi  chilarro.     Ahora  me  lo  vas  d  pagar."     Lo  puso  en  una  red  que 

1  The  incidents  of  this  story  beginning  with  the  talc  of  the  Rabbit  and  the  Alligator 
do  not  seem  to  form  part  of  the  regular  Rabbit  and  Coyote  cycle.  The  two  Aesopian 
fables  of  the  Man  and  the  Serpent  and  the  Ingratitude  of  Man  are  often  told  in  vari- 
ous parts  of  Mexico,  but  do  not  ordinarily  form  part  of  the  Rabbit  cycle. 

*  The  Spanish  is  here  given  without  change  from  the  dictated  form. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk'Lore  211 

llevaba  y  lo  llev6  k  su  casa.  Llegando  alld  le  colg6  en  media  casa  y  dijo,  "  i  Qu6 
hard  contigo?"  Pens6  que  le  iba  d  echar  un  poco  de  agua  caliente,  i)ero  no 
tenia  agua  la  senora  y  se  fu6  4  traerla  y  dej6  la  puerta  cerrada. 

El  conejo  siempre  colgaba  en  la  red,  pero  la  casa  estaba  en  frcnte  del  camino, 
asi  es  que  pasaba  un  coyote,  y  el  conejo,  tan  luego  como  vi6  al  coyote,  conienz6 
&  hablar,  4  decir,  diciendo,  "  C6mo  es  posible  que  me  quieran  casar  k  la  fuerza, 
cuando  yo  estoy  muy  chiquito  y  no  quiero  casarme."  Entonces  se  acerc6  el 
coyote,  y  le  pregunt6  qu6  cosa  es  lo  que  61  decfa;  y  le  dijo,  que  si  no  se  queria 
poner  el  coyote  en  esa  red,  porque  el  estaba  preso  porque  querian  casarlo  con 
una  muchacha  muy  bonita,  y  61  no  queria.  Entonces  el  coyote  le  dijo  que  si 
aceptaba  lo  que  el  conejo  decia.  EI  coyote  se  meti6  en  la  red  y  el  conejo  se 
sali6. 

Cuando  lleg6  la  buena  vieja  y  se  encontr6  con  el  coyote,  le  dijo,  "jAh,  como 
el  conejo  se  volvi6  coyote!"  puso  la  olla  de  agua  en  la  lumbre  y,  despues  que 
estaba  hirviendo,  la  echaba  al  coyote.  El  coyote  se  quem6,  pero  no  se  quem6 
mds  que  atrds  en  las  nalgas.  Entonces  se  fu6  el  coyote;  revolcando  en  el  camino 
se  fu6,  mas  el  conejo  estaba  en  un  pitahajal. 

Cuando  el  coyote  pasaba  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "Adi6s,  tio  coyote,"  y  entonces 
volvi6  el  coyote  quien  le  hablaba,  y  le  dijo  el  coyote,  "<{ Porque  me  engafiastes?  " 
Y  el  conejo  contest6  que  "  Porque  ya  no  me  encontraron,  por  eso  le  dieron  d  Vd. 
un  castigo;  pero,  en  verdad,  me  iba  d  casar  con  una  muchacha."  FIntonces  le 
dijo,  "  Mejor  serd  vamos  d  comer  pitahayas,"  y  le  tir6  una  desde  arriba.  Le  dijo, 
"jCierre  Vd.  los  ojos  y  abra  Vd.  la  boca!"  Letir6una,  y  le  tir6  otra.  P2staban 
las  dos  limpias,  pero  la  tercera  no  la  limpi6,  sino  la  tir6  con  todas  las  espinas 
y  aguates  que  tenia.     El  coyote  se  qued6  revolcando  y  el  conejo  se  fu6. 

Vi6  pasar  al  coyote  y  le  dijo,  "j Coyote,  nalgas  quemadas!"  El  coyote  dijo, 
*' I  Qu6  es  lo  que  me  dices?"  y  el  conejo  contest6,  "Te  digo  que  me  vengas  d 
ayudar  d  mecer  d  mi  hcrmanita  que  estd  llorando,  y  mi  mamd  no  estd."  Nada  de 
eso  le  contest6  el  coyote.  "  Tu  me  debes  mucho.  Tii  me  engafiastes  que  me  iba 
k  casar,  y  luego  me  tirastes  la  pitahaya  con  espinas,  y  ahora  me  voy  d  vengar  de 
lo  que  me  has  hecho,"  Le  dijo,  "  Pero  yo  no  te  conozco  ni  te  vi.  Tal  vez  serdn 
otros,  mis  hermanos  que  tengo."  Y  le  dijo  el  coyote  "d  Entonces  tienes  mds 
hermanos?" — "  Pues  si,"  le  dijo.  "  Pues  hombre,  quien  sal>e  quien  de  ellos 
serd." — "^Y  tu,  qu6  haccs  atjui?" — "  Hace  tieni|)o  que  mi  mamd  se  fu6  d 
buscar  tortillas  para  comer  y  me  dcj6  mecicndo  d  esta  miichachita.  Ahora 
quiero  que  te  quedes  aqui  en  mi  lugar,  mientrae  yo  me  voy  d  buscarla  que  vcnga." 
El  coyote  se  qued6.  El  conejo  al  irec  le  dijo,  "Si  ves  que  mi  hermanita  no  para 
de  llorar,  le  pegas  una  trompada  y  la  dcjas."  El  coyote  asi  lo  hizo.  Se  enfad6 
de  mecerla  y  no  [)araba  el  ruiiUi.  Le  tli6  una  tronipada  fuorte,  y  entoncet  salieron 
un  mont6n  de  avispas  (jue  le  dieron  su  buena  tunda  al  coyote  y  se  fueron. 

\\\  coyote  sigui6  su  camino  y  se  dijo  "^  A  d6nde  encontrar6al  conejo?"  En 
el  camino  iba,  andando.  El  conejo  le  habl6  y  le  dijo,  "i Coyote,  nalgas  que- 
madas!" y  el  coyote  le  dijo  que  es  lo  que  el  decia.  El  conejo  le  dijo,  que  le 
rogaba  que  fuera  d  donde  t\  estaba  para  que  le  ayudara  d  sacar  un  (|ucso  que 
estaba  alll.  V.\  conejo  estaba  en  una  lagutia  de  agua,  y  la  luna  era  la  que  la 
alumbraba  y  fjue  se  miraba  adrntro  del  agua,  y  eso  era  el  (jueso  (|ue  el  conejo 
le  dijo  al  coyote  que  s;u-aba.  AIM  di-j/)  el  conrjf)  al  coyote,  mientras  le  dijo  que 
61  se  iba  d  dcscanzar  un  rato,  porque  61  estaba  muy  cansado.  El  coyote  empcz6 
k  sacar  el  queso,  pero  como  nunca  pudo  haccrlo,  sc  enfad6  y  mejor  se  fu6. 

Despu6s  iba  en  el  camino,  cuando  el  conejo  le  habK')  y  le  dijo,   "iAdi6s,   tio 


212  Journal  oj  American  Folk- Lore 

coyote!"  El  coyote  le  dijo,  "Ora  no  te  me  escapas,  porque  tu  me  has  enganado 
mucho." — "No,"  le  dijo  el  conejo,  "yo  no  soy.  Desde  que  el  mundo  es  mundo 
me  pusieron  aqui  en  este  lugar  con  esta  piedra  en  la  mano,"  porque  el  conejo, 
tan  luego  como  vi6  al  coyote,  se  puso  una  piedra  grande  en  la  mano  y  dijo,  que 
ahi  lo  habian  dejado  sosteniendo  esa  piedra,  porque,  si  el  la  soltaba,  el  mundo  se 
perderia.  El  coyote  lo  crey6  y  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "  I  Vd.  no  me  quiere  ayudar 
un  momento  con  esta  piedra?  porque  es  que  yo  cstoy  cansado."  El  coyote 
agarr6  la  piedra.  El  conejo  le  dijo,  "jAy,  tio  coyote,  no  venga  Vd.  soltar  la 
piedra,  porque  entonces  se  pierde  el  mundo." 

El  conejo  se  fu6  diciendo  al  coyote  que  volveria  luego.  El  conejo  ya  no 
volvi6.  Se  fu6  adelante  y  el  coyote,  ya  cansado,  poco  d  poco  fu6  bajando  la 
piedra  y  miraba  61  al  cielo  k  ver  si  si  venia  abajo.  Pero  como  miraba  que  no 
era  asi,  fu6  bajando  la  piedra  hasla  que  !a  puso  al  suelo. 

La  dej6,  y  se  fue,  y  dijo,  "A  donde  yo  encuentro  al  conejo,  lo  tengo  que 
matar,  porque  mucho  se  ha  burlado  de  mi." 

El  conejo  se  puso  A  la  orilla  del  camino,  encima  de  un  carrizal.  Cuando  el 
coyote  pasaba,  el  conejo  tenia  una  guitarra  que,  tan  luego  como  vi6  al  coyote, 
empez6  4  tocarla  y  le  dijo  "iAdi6s,  tio  coyote!"  El  coyote  le  dijo,  "Bdjate 
que  vamos  d  hablar." — "No,  tio  coyote;  si  Vd.  esta  muy  enojado  conmigo." 
El  coyote  le  dijo,  "Tu  me  has  enganado  mucho,  y  por  eso  es  que  estoy  enojado." 
— "No,  tio  coyote,"  le  dijo,  "yo  soy  el  m4s  bueno  de  todos,  y  no  se  enoje  Vd. 
conmigo.  Yo  s6  bien  lo  que  ha  pasado,  pero  yo  no  he  hecho  4  Vd.  estas  cosas. 
El  hermano  mio,  ese  es  muy  malo,  y  es  quien  ha  hecho  tantas  cosas.  Pero 
ahora  se  va  4  casar,  y  estoy  en  espera  de  ellos.  Se  han  dilatado  mucho.  Quien 
sabe  que  hardn.  Yo  quisiera  ir  k  verlos,  si  Vd.  se  quedara  tocando  esa  guitarra. 
Le  voy  k  dar  k  Vd.  una  seiia  cuando  ya  vengan  los  novios.  Voy  k  tirar  dos 
cohetes  para  que  Vd.  sepa,  y  entonces  toca  Vd.  mis  para  cuando  ellos  vengan, 
vengan  k  bailar." 

El  coyote  si  lo  hizo.  El  conejo  se  fu6.  A  poco  rato  vino  el  conejo  y  le 
prendi6  lumbre  al  carrizal.  El  coyote  creyendo  que  los  novios  venian,  sigui6 
k  tocar  y  empezaba  k  bailar.  Cuando  el  menos  sinti6  estaba  en  medio  de  las 
llamas.     Ya  no  pudo  escapar  el  pobre  coyote  y  se  muri6  quemado. 

El  conejo  vino  k  ver  y  llor6  la  muerte  del  coyote  y  se  dijo,  "  Pobre  tio  coyote, 
ahora  si  se  muri6  y  iahora  por  d6nde  me  ir6?" 

El  conejo  se  fu6  k  la  orilla  de  un  rio.  No  podia  pasar  el  rio  y  empez6  k  decir, 
"EI  quien  me  pase,  me  comerA."  Asi  estuvo  diciendo,  cuando  el  lagarto  lleg6 
y  le  dijo,  "Yo  te  paso." — "Esti  bueno,"  le  dijo  el  conejo.  Se  subi6  sobre  la 
espalda  del  largarto.  Ya  que  iba  cerca  de  la  orilla  del  otro  lado,  le  dijo  el  lagarto, 
"Ahora  si  te  voy  i  comer." — ",iYque  no  led^A  Vd.  listima,"  contest6  el  conejo, 
"comer  k  este  animal  tan  gordito  que  estoy?"  El  lagarto  dijo,  "  ^  Qu6  hacemos? " 
— "i Vamos  mks  k  la  orilla!"  contest6  el  conejo,  "para  que  Vd.  pueda  comerme 
bien."  Ya  estaban  en  la  orilla.  El  conejo  dijo  al  lagarto,  "No  le  parece  k 
Vd.  que  alii  estin  unas  hojas  muy  grandotas,  Voy  k  traerlas  y  alii  me  echo 
para  que  Vd.  no  pierda  nada."  El  lagarto  le  dijo  que  si.  El  conejo  se  fu6,  y 
jamis  volvi6. 

Al  otro  lado  estaba  un  rastrojo  viejo,  y  no  encontr6  mis  el  conejo  que  un 
piecito  de  milpa,  y  pens6,  "Voy  k  vender  mucho  maiz  ^y  con  quien  vender^? 
Voy  i  vender  con  tia  cucaracha  una  fanega,  y  otra  con  tia  gallina,  otra  con  tio 
perro,  otra  con  tio  le6n,  otra  con  tio  cazador." 

El  tiempo  Ileg6  de  entregar  el  maiz;  y  61  tenia  un  ranchito,  que,  cuando  el 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  2 1 3 

conejo  sali6  k  pasear,  cerraba  la  puerta  del  ranchito.  Pero,  como  habia  enganado 
al  lagarto,  y  le  debia  la  vida,  el  lagarto  se  inform6  k  donde  vivia  y  f ue  a  colocarse 
cerca  de  su  cama,  para  que,  cuando  el  conejo  llegaba,  el  lagarto  lo  comia. 

El  conejo  era  muy  listo,  y  un  dia  que  lleg6,  dijo  61  solo,  "  Buenos  dias,  casita." 
La  casita  nunca  le  contestaba,  pero  hubo  un  dia  que  dijo,  "  Buenos  dias,  casita," 
el  lagarto  contest6,  "Buenos  dJas,  conejo." — "iQu6?  Si  k  mi  nunca  me  con- 
testastes,  mi  casita."  Abri6  la  puerta  y  vi6  asi  adentro,  cuando  vi6  el  lomo  del 
lagarto,  y  dijo,  "^Y  que  son  estas  clavijas  que  veo  ahi?  Yo  no  soy  guitarrista 
y  no  soy  violinista.     jMejor  me  voy  k  otro  ranchito!" 

Alii  estaba  cuando  la  cucaracha  lleg6.  "  Buenos  dias,  tio  conejo." — "  Buenos 
dias,  tfa  cucaracha." — "Vengo  por  mi  maiz." — "Est4  bien.  Nada  mis  que 
estd  muy  temprano.  Vamos  k  almorzar  primero  y  en  seguida  nos  vamos." 
Estaban  esperando  el  almuerzo  cuando  divisaron  k  tia'gallina.  El  conejo  dijo 
k  la  cucaracha,  "Oiga,  tia  cucaracha,  ique  no  quedrd  (querr4)  comer  k  Vd.  la 
gallina?" — "j Como  no!  i  A  d6nde  meescondo?"  El  conejo  le  dijo,  "Esc6ndase 
V'd.  bajo  esta  cdscara  de  palo  que  est4  ahi." 

Cuando  lleg6  la  gallina,  "  Buenos  dias,  tio  conejo." — "  Buenos  dias,  tia  gallina." 
— "Vengo  por  mi  maiz." — "Como  no,  pero  primero  almorzaremos  y  en  seguida 
iremos  k  desgranarlo."  La  gallina  se  sent6  y  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "iV^d.  no  quisiera 
comer  una  cucaracha?" — "Como  no,"  dijo  la  gallina,  ",[4  d6nde  est4?"  El 
conejo  le  ensen6  k  la  cucaracha  y  el  conejo  dijo,  "Asi  me  voy  quitando  las 
drogas." 

Estaban  platicando  el  conejo  y  la  gallina,  cuando  divisaron  al  perro  que 
ya  venia.  El  conejo  dijo,  "A  d6nde  se  esconderd  Vd.,  porque  el  perro  viene  y 
la  quedra  (querri)  comer.  Esc6ndase  Vd,  bajo  de  este  cargador.  "  La  gallina  se 
escondi6,  el  perro  lleg6. 

"  Buenos  dias,  tio  conejo." — "  Buenos  dias,  tio  perro." — "Vengo  por  mi  maiz." 
— "Como  no.  i  Si6ntese  Vd.  un  momento ! "  El  perro  se  sent6  y  el  conejo  dijo, 
"Oiga  Vd.,  i  no  quisiera  \d.  comer  una  gallina?" — '' l\  d6nde  esti?" — "  Est4 
bajo  ese  cargador."     El  perro  comi6  k  la  gallina  y  sigui6  k  platicai  con  el  conejo. 

Platicando  estaban  cuando  divisaron  al  Ie6n  y  le  dijo  al  perro  que  si  no  tenia 
miedo  del  le6n  que  lo  fuera  k  comer.  El  perro  dijo,  "Me  da  mucho  miedo. 
<[A  d6nde  me  escondo?"  y  el  perro  se  escondi6  atrds  de  la  casita. 

El  le6n  llcg6.  "Buenos  dias,  tio  conejo." — "Buenos  dias,  tio  le6n." — 
"Vengo  por  mi  maiz."  El  conejo  le  dijo,  "Entre  Vd.  un  momento  que  orita 
nos  vamos."  El  le6n  entr6  y  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "Voy  k  decir  k  Vd.  una  cosa. 
^Vd.  no  quisiera  comer  un  perro?" — " lY  porqu6  no?  <;A  d6nde  est4?"  El 
conejo  le  ensen6  k  donde  estaba  el  perro  y  el  le6n  luego  lo  comi6. 

Dcspu6s  estaban  platicando,  cuando  divisaron  al  cazador,  quicn  ya  venfa, 
y  el  conejo  dijo,  "<  Que  no  cjucdr/i  (querrd)  matar  el  cazador  A  Vd.?" — "Como 
no,"  dijo  el  le6n.  "dA  d6nde  me  escondo?" — "  Esc6ndasc  Vd.  en  cl  tirante  de 
la  casa.     Ahi  no  le  v6  aunque  venga.     No  le  hace  nada." 

El  cazador  llcg6.  "Buenos  dias,  tio  conejo." — "Buenos  dias,  tio  cazador." 
— "Vengo  por  mi  maiz." — "Como  no,"  le  dijo.  "  Pase  Vd.  Vamos  k  almorzar 
primero  tortillas  calientcs  y  queso  fresco,  y  en  seguida  nos  iremos  k  desgranar 
el  maiz.  Es  la  unica  deuda  que  me  queda.  Entre  tanlo  iVd.  no  quisiera  malar 
un  lc6n?"  El  cazador  Ic  dijo,  "<  A  d6ndc  cstA?"  El  conejo  le  ensen6  k  donde 
estaba  el  Ie6n  que  cl  cazador  mat6.  Mat6  al  Ie6n  cl  cazador,  y  el  conejo  se 
huy6.  Cuando  volvi6  cl  cazador  k  la  casa  para  buscar  al  conejo  ya  no  le  en- 
contr6.     El  conejo  sc  fu6. 


214  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Adelante  iba,  cuando  encontr6  A  una  serpiente  que  estaba  bajo  una  piedra  y 
no  podfa  salir  de  ningun  niodo,  y  cada  persona  que  pasaba,  le  suplicaba  que  la 
sacara.  El  conejo  se  compadeci6  y  fu6  A  traer  unas  palancas.  Alz6  la  piedra 
y  la  serpiente  pudo  salir.  Despu6s  que  estaba  libre  queria  comer  al  conejo. 
Entonces  le  dijo,  "I  Porqud  me  quieres  hacer  eso?  I  No  es  un  bien  que  yo  te 
he  hecho  en  sacarte  de  esa  piedra?"  La  serpiente  le  dijo,  "Como  no,  I  pero 
tu  no  sabes  que  un  bien  con  un  mal  se  paga?" — "  Permiteme  tres  testigos  antes 
de  morir." 

Cuando  bajaban  dos  caballos,  el  conejo  dijo,  "  Dispensen  Vdes.  una  palabra. 
<;  Es  cierto  que  un  bien  con  un  mal  se  paga?  " — "  Es  muy  cierto,"  dijo  el  caballo, 
"porque  antes  yo  fuf  buen  caballo  para  mi  amo.  Cuando  era  muchacho  me 
queria  mucho,  me  asistia  muy  bien.  Ahora  estoy  viejo,  y  me  ha  largado  al 
campo  sin  saber  de  mi  \4da.  Asi  es  que  estd  muy  bien  dicho  que  un  bien  con 
un  mal  se  paga." 

La  serpiente  le  contest6,  "tYa  ves?  No  te  faltan  m^s  que  dos."  Cuando 
iban  pasando  dos  bueyes,  y  dijo  el  conejo,  "  Disp6nsenme  Vdes.  una  palabra. 
i  Es  cierto  que  un  bien  con  un  mal  se  paga?"  Los  bueyes  dijeron,  "Aunque 
cause  sentimiento,  porque  yo  fui  un  buen  animal  para  mi  amo.  Le  servi  mucho 
en  mi  tiempo.  Fui  muy  obediente.  Como  le  servia  me  queria  mucho.  Ahora 
estoy  viejo;  ya  no  le  sirvo  para  nada,  y  ha  dicho  que  me  larg6  al  campo  para 
que  me  repusiera  un  poco  y  asi  podrA  matarme." 

En  seguida  siguieron  adelante  y  encontraron  k  un  asno.  Estaba  k  un  lado 
del  camino  muy  triste.  "Amigo,"  dijo  el  conejo.  "i  Es  cierto  que  un  bien  con 
un  mal  se  paga?" — "Aunque  cause  sentimiento,"  contest6  el  asno,  "porque 
yo,  cuando  era  muchacho  le  di  buenos  servicios  4  mi  amo,  y  ahora  que  estoy 
viejo  ya  no  quiere  verme.  Acabo  de  llcgar  de  una  fuerte  paliza  que  me  dieron 
por  ir  k  visitar  k  mi  amo." — "No  tiene  remedio, "  dijo  la  serpiente,  "Tienes  que 
morir." 

Estaban  platicando  cuando  pasaba  un  gallo  que  le  dijo,  "Amigo,"  me  voy  k 
morir  por  hacer  un  bien." — "  I  Qu6  bien  has  hecho?  "  dijo  el  gallo.  "  He  sacado 
esta  serpiente  que  estaba  bajo  unai  piedra  hace  mucho  tiempo."  El  gallo  dijo, 
"^  C6mo  estaba?"  La  serpiente  se  puso  enteramente  igual  como  estaba  bajo 
la  pena  y  le  dijo,  "<:  Asi  esta bas?"  La  serpiente  dijo,  "Asi."  EI  dijo,  "Asi 
estabas,  asi  te  quedas."     El  conejo  contest6,  "A  ti  te  debo  la  vida." 

Sigui6  su  camino  y  iban  Uegando  cerca  de  una  poblaci6n,  cuando  el  cazador 
Uegaba  k  su  casa  y  divis6  al  conejo.  "Sin  remedio  voy  k  matarte."  Le  peg6 
un  balazo  y  el  conejo  se  muri6.  El  cazador  cogi6  al  conejo  que  estaba  medio 
muerte  y  el  conejo  le  dijo,  "Ahora  si  acabo  de  creer,  que  un  bien  con  un  mal  se 
paga." 

2.    RABBIT   AND    TOAD 

The  Toad  challenged  the  Rabbit  to  run  a  race  of  five  hundred 
metres.  The  Rabbit  asserted  that  he  would  even  bet  his  life;  when 
he  saw  that  the  Toad  was  very  stout,  he  was  sure  that  he  would  win. 
The  stake  amounted  to  fi\c  hundred  dollars.  The  Toad  risked  the 
bet  because  he  saw  that  he  could  not  run  fast  enough;  but  he  worked 
it  in  such  a  way  that  he  gathered  five  hundred  companions,  and  placed 
them  in  a  straight  line.  Once  the  line  was  formed,  they  tore  away; 
and  with  the  first  jump  the  Rabbit  made,  he  said,  "dtrepon;"  and  the 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  2 1 5 

Toad  replied,  "drrabon."  —  "Atrepon."  —  "Arrabon."  When  the 
Rabbit  saw  that  he  could  not  win  over  the  Toad  —  how  could  he 
win  when  the  five  hundred  tore  away  all  at  the  same  time?  The 
Toad  had  to  win  because  the  Rabbit  was  one,  and  they  were  five 
hundred.     He  lost  the  bet. 

CONEJO   Y   SAPO 

El  sapo  le  llam6  la  atenci6n  al  conejo  para  que  ccharan  una  carrera  de  quinien- 
tos  metros.  El  conejo  aseguraba  que  apostaba  hasta  su  vida;  de  vcr  el  sapo 
tan  barrig6n  aseguraba  que  no  le  habia  de  ganar.  La  apuesta  era  de  quinientos 
pesos.  El  sapo  se  arrisc6  k  aix)star  porque  lo  vi6  que  no  corria  bastante,  pero 
el  sapo  trabaj6  de  tal  manera  que  fu6  k  recoger  quinientos  companeros  y  los 
form6  en  linea  recta.  Una  vez  que  estaba  formada,  entonces  arrancaron  y 
cuando  el  primer  salto  que  peg6  el  conejo,  decia,  "4tre|x>n,"  y  el  sapo  contest6, 
"4rrabon." — "Atre{X)n." — "Arrabon."'  V'iendo  el  conejo  que  no  le  pudo 
ganar  al  sapo,  —  ic6mo  habi'a  de  ganar  cuando  los  quinientos  arrancaban  k  un 
mismo  tiempo?  Tuvo  que  ganar  el  sapo  porque  el  conejo  era  uno  y  aquellos 
eran  quinientos.     Perdi6  la  apuesta. 

3.   GOD 

There  was  a  man  who  had  three  sons.  One  day  the  oldest  one  said 
to  his  father,  "Father  give  me  your  blessing,  for  I  am  going  to  seek 
my  fortune;"  and  he  went.  He  walked  and  walked  along  a  road 
until  he  came  to  an  old  hut,  and  there  was  an  old  man  who  was  God. 
The  boy  said,  "Good-day,  sir!"  —  "Good-day,  son!"  replied  the  old 
man.  "Have  you  no  work,  sir?"  —  "Certainly,"  replied  the  old 
man.  "Come  in!  Be  seated!  Let  us  take  lunch,  and  then  you 
shall  go  and  take  a  letter  to  Monjas."  After  the  boy  had  eaten,  he 
said  to  him,  "Sweep  the  house,  and  saddle  this  donkey  and  go  and 
take  this  letter." 

The  boy  went,  and  came  on  the  road  to  a  red  river,  and  he  was 
much  frightened.  He  threw  the  letter  into  the  river  and  went  back. 
The  old  man  said  at  once,  "Have  you  come  back  already,  son?"  — 
"Already,  sir,"  he  said  to  him.  "Did  you  deliver  the  letter?"  — 
"Yes;"  and  the  letter  had  come  back  again  to  the  hands  of  G(x\. 

"All  right!"  he  saifl.  "Now  what  do  you  want?  —  money  or 
grace?"  —  "Money,"  he  said  to  him.  "Then  take  this  naj^kin," 
he  said  to  him,  "and  you  will  have  in  it  whatever  you  wish  for." 

The  boy  went  to  his  house  well  satisfied,  and  Siiid,  "I'atlur.  here 
I  bring  this  na()kin,  and  we  must  lunch  with  it  presently.  '  Iluii  the 
boy  said,  "Napkin,  by  the  virtue  given  to  thee  by  Gcxl,  I  ask  thee  to 
give  me  a  lunrh;"  and  at  once  a  table  w.is  llure,  with  much  to  eat. 

After  this  the  second  brother  said,  "Father,  give  me  your  blessing, 
for  I  am  going  tf)  seek  my  ff)rtune;"  and  he  went  the  way  which  his 
brother  had  taken.  He  found  the  old  hut  and  also  the  oUl  man.  He 
'  Atrap6n,  "  cJccrivcr  "?;  r^lx^n.  "tnillriw"  .' 


2i6  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

said,  "Good-day,  sir!"  —  "Good-day,  my  son!"  —  "Have  you 
nothing  to  do,  sir?"  —  "Yes,"  replied  the  old  man.  "Come  in! 
Be  seated!  We  will  lunch.  Then  sweep  the  house,  put  flowers  on 
the  altar;  saddle  the  donkey,  and  go  to  take  this  letter  to  Monjas." 

The  boy  did  so,  and  also  met  the  red  river,  threw  the  letter  into  the 
river,  and  came  back.     The  letter  came  again  to  the  hands  of  God. 

The  boy  arrived;  and  the  old  man  said  to  him,  "Have  you  come 
already,  son?"  —  "Already,  sir,"  he  replied.  "And  now,  what  do 
you  want?  —  money  or  grace?"  —  "Money,"  replied  the  boy.  Then 
he  presented  him  with  an  empty  trunk,  took  a  little  pole,  touched  the 
top  of  the  trunk  with  it,  and  said,  "Pole,  pole,  by  the  virtue  that 
God  has  given  to  thee,  put  this  trunk  in  my  house;"  and  immediately 
the  trunk  was  transferred  to  the  house  of  the  boy.  He  bade  good-by 
to  the  old  man;  and  when  he  arrived  in  his  house,  the  trunk  was  there 
full  of  money. 

Then  the  youngest  brother  said,  "Father  give  me  your  blessing,  for 
I,  too,  will  seek  my  fortune."  The  father  gave  him  his  blessing,  and 
the  boy  took  the  same  road.  He  found  the  old  hut  and  God  who  lived 
there.  The  boy  said,  "Good-day,  sir!"  —  "Good-day,  boy!"  replied 
the  old  man.  "Have  you  no  work,  sir?"  —  "Yes,"  replied  the  old 
man.  "Come  in!  Be  seated!  We  will  lunch,"  and  he  gave  him 
some  very  tough  cakes  to  eat;  and  the  boy  said  to  himself,  "Poor  old 
man!  How  can  he  sustain  himself  on  those  tough  cakes?"  and  God 
heard  him,  and  said,  "Arise,  sweep  the  house;  put  flowers  on  the 
altar,  saddle  this  donkey,  and  go  to  Monjas  to  take  this  letter 
there." 

The  boy  went.  First  he  came  to  the  red  river.  He  had  no  fear, 
passed  it,  and  the  water  reached  to  the  hoofs  of  the  donkey.  He  went 
on.  He  walked  and  walked.  He  came  to  a  white,  white  river.  He 
passed  it.  Then  he  came  to  a  green,  green  river.  He  passed  it. 
Then  he  came  to  a  grassy  hill,  and  the  cattle  that  roamed  there,  how 
lean  they  were!  Then  he  came  to  a  barren  hill,  and  the  cattle  that 
roamed  there  were  fat.  He  walked  on  and  on,  and  came  to  rocks 
which  were  striking  one  another.  Again  he  walked  on  and  on,  and 
came  to  a  roast  that  was  roasting. 

He  arrived  at  Monjas,  inquired  for  the  church,  and  delivered  the 
letter  into  the  hands  of  the  Virgin.  Then  the  Virgin  said  to  the  boy, 
"Take  this  little  hat  as  a  sign  that  you  have  delivered  to  me  my  letter. 
Tell  God  what  you  have  seen  on  the  road." 

When  the  boy  went  back,  there  was  nothing  on  the  road.  He 
reached  the  hut  of  the  old  man,  and  the  old  man  said  to  him,  "Have 
you  come  already,  son?"  —  "Already,"  replied  the  boy.  "Well," 
said  the  old  man  to  him,  "tell  me  about  what  you  have  seen  on  the 
road." 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  217 

"Sir,"  said  the  boy  to  him,  "first  I  saw  a  red,  red  river."  —  "That 
red  river,"  said  God,  "is  the  blood  that  your  mother  shed  for  you." 

"Then  I  saw  a  white,  white  river."  —  "That  is  the  milk  that  you 
have  sucked." 

"Then  I  saw  a  green,  green  river."  —  "Those  are  your  mother's 
veins." 

"Then  I  saw  a  grassy  hill  with  lean  cattle."  —  "Those  are  the  cattle 
of  the  rich." 

"Then  I  saw  a  barren  hill  with  fat  cattle."  —  "Those  are  the  cattle 
of  the  poor." 

"Then  I  saw  several  rocks  which  struck  one  another."  —  "Those 
are  the  godmothers  when  they  are  fighting." 

"When  I  came  to  Monjas  there  was  a  roast  roasting."  —  "That  is 
the  tongue  of  the  gossip." 

"Well,  son,"  said  God  to  him,  "and  now  what  do  you  want?  — 
money  or  grace?"  —  "Grace,"  replied  the  boy.  "All  right!"  said 
the  old  man  to  him.  "Take  this  crucifix,  and  on  the  base  you  will 
find  a  present  every  day." 

The  boy  left  well  satisfied.  When  he  arrived  at  his  house,  he  placed 
the  crucifix  on  his  altar;  and  every  day  early,  when  he  awoke,  he  found 
two  dollars  on  the  base  of  the  crucifix. 

One  day  when  the  boy  was  eating,  he  saw  at  a  distance  an  old  man 
wrapped  in  his  sheet,  and  full  of  ulcers,  and  disgusting  to  see.  He  came 
to  the  entrance,  and  said,  "Good-day!"  —  "Good-day,  sir!"  replied 
the  boy;  while  the  other  brothers  began  to  cover  the  food,  because 
the  old  man  was  very  disgusting  to  see.  Only  the  youngest  boy  gave 
the  old  man  to  eat. 

Then  the  Lord  said,  "You  have  not  felt  disgust  at  seeing  me;  and 
now  I'll  take  you  up,  body  and  soul."  He  took  up  the  boy,  and  the 
brothers  remained  with  their  food  full  of  grubs,  and  in  the  pot,  instead 
of  the  fcxxJ,  a  snake. 

DIOS 

Kra  un  honibrc  que  tenia  Ires  hijos.  Un  dfa  Ic  dijo  cl  mis  grande  A  su  papA, 
"  I'apA,  Scheme  Vd.  la  bcndici6n  [wrque  me  voy  &  rogar  sucrte,"  y  sc  fu^.  Anda 
y  anda  por  un  camino,  cuando  sc  cncontr6  con  una  casita  vieja  y  alii  cstaba 
un  vicjccito  (juc  era  Dios.  Dijo  cl  nirto,  "j  Buenos  d(as,  scnor!" — "i  Buenos 
dlas,  hij«j!"  contesK')  el  viejecito.  "^  No  ticnc  Vd.  trabajo?" — "Conio  no," 
r()ntest6  el  viejecito.  "l-^ntra,  Hi6ntate.  Vamos  A  ainior/ar,  y  en  scguida  tc 
vas  &  dcjar  una  carta  A  Monjas."  Acal>6  dc  alniorzar  el  nino  y  le  dijo,  "  Barrc 
la  casa  y  cnsilla  cstc  burro,  y  tc  vas  k  dcjar  csta  carta." 

Sc  fu6  el  nino,  y  en  cl  camino  sc  cncontr6  con  un  rlo  Colorado  y  sc  a8ust6 
nuicho.  Tir^  la  carta  en  cl  rio  y  sc  regres6.  Luego  le  dijo  cl  vicjccito,  "^Ya 
venistes,  hijo?" — "Ya,  scAor,"  Ic  dijo.  "<  Kntregastcs  la  carta?" — "S(,"  y  la 
carta  haMa  vuelto  otra  vez  A  las  manos  de  Dios. 

"  Bueno,"  dijo,  "<:(|uc  quicres  ahora?  <  Dincro  6  las  gracias?" — "Dinero," 
le  dijo.  "Pues  ten  csta  servieta,"  Ic  dijo,  "y  todo  lo  que  quicras,  lo  tcndria 
en  clla." 


2l8  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Se  fu6  el  nino  para  su  casa  muy  contento  y  dijo,  "PapA,  aqui  traigo  esta 
servieta  que  con  ella  tendr6mos  que  almorzar  orita."  Entonces  dijo  el  nino, 
"Servieta,  por  la  virtud  que  te  ha  dado  Dios,  quiero  que  me  des  un  almuerzo," 
y  luego  se  form6  una  mesa  con  mucho  que  comer. 

En  seguida  dijo  el  segundo  hermano,  "  Pap&  Scheme  Vd.  su  bendici6n,  porque 
me  voy  k  rogar  suerte,"  y  se  fue  por  el  camino  que  tom6  su  hermano.  Se 
encontr6  con  la  casita  vieja  y  el  viejecito  tambidn.  Dijo,  "i  Buenos  dias,  senor!  " 
— "jBuenosdias,  hijo  mio!" — "iQue  tiene  Vd.  que  trabajar?" — "Si,"  contest6 
el  viejecito.  "Entra,  si^ntate,  vamos  4  almorzar.  En  seguida  barres  la  casa 
y  echas  florecitas  al  altar;  ensillas  el  burro  y  te  vas  k  dejar  esta  carta  k  Monjas." 
Asf  lo  hizo  el  nino  y  se  volvi6  k  encontrar  con  el  rio  Colorado,  tir6  la  carta  en 
el  rio  y  se  regres6.     Volvi6  otra  vez  la  carta  k  las  manos  de  Dios. 

Lleg6  el  nino  y  le  dijo  el  viejecito,  "^Ya  venistes,  hijo?" — "Ya,  senor,"  con- 
test6.  "  Y  ahora  I  qu6  quieres?  i  Dinero  6  las  gracias?" — "Dinero,"  contest6 
el  nino.  Entonces  le  regal6  un  baul  vacio,  y  cogi6  una  barrita  y  le  toc6  encima 
del  baul  y  dijo,  "Barrita,  barrita,  por  la  virtud  que  te  ha  dado  Dios,  ponme 
este  baul  k  mi  casa,"  y  luego  se  traslad6  el  baul  a  la  casa  del  nino.  Se  despidi6 
del  viejecito  y  cuando  lleg6  a  su  casa,  estaba  el  baul  lleno  de  dinero. 

Entonces  dijo  el  hermanito  mas  pequeno,  "Papd  echeme  Vd.  su  bendici6n, 
porque  yo  tambien  me  voy  k  rogar  suerte."  Le  ech6  su  bendici6n  el  padre  y 
tom6  el  nino  el  mismo  camino.  Se  encontr6  con  la  casita  vieja  y  Dios  que  estaba 
alli.  Dijo  el  nino,  "i Buenos  dias,  senor!" — "Buenos  dias,  niiio!"  contest6 
el  viejecito.  "  I  Que  tiene  Vd.  trabajo?  " — "  Si,"  contest6  el  viejecito.  "  Entra, 
sientate,  vamos  k  almorzar,"  y  le  di6  que  almorzar  unas  tortillas  muy  duras, 
y  dijo  el  nifio  entre  si,  "  Pobre  viejecito,  como  se  mantiene  con  estas  tortillas  tan 
duras,"  y  Dios  lo  oy6  y  dijo,  "Lev^ntate;  barre  la  casa;  6chale  florecitas  al 
altar,  ensillas  este  burro,  y  te  vas  para  Monjas  k  dejar  esta  carta." 

Se  fu6  el  nine.  Primero  se  encontr6  con  el  rio  Colorado.  No  tuvo  miedo, 
pas6,  y  le  daba  el  agua  hasta  los  cascos  del  burro.  Se  fu6.  Anda  y  anda.  Se 
encontr6  con  un  rio  bianco,  bianco.  Pas6.  En  seguida  se  encontr6  con  un 
rio  verde,  verde.  Pas6.  Despu6s  se  encontr6  con  un  cerro  zacatoso  y  se  rodaban 
las  vacas  de  flacas  que  estaban  las  vacas.  Despues  se  encontr6  con  un  cerro 
pel6n  y  se  rodaban  las  vacas  de  gordas.  Luego  anda  y  anda,  y  se  encontr6 
con  unas  piedras  que  se  encontraban  unas  con  otras.  Despues  anda  y  anda 
otra  vez  y  se  encontr6  con  una  asadura  que  estaba  asando. 

Lleg6  k  Monjas,  se  los  prcgunt6  la  iglesia  y  entreg6  la  carta  en  manos  de  la  Vir- 
gen.  Entonces  le  dijo  la  Virgen  al  nino,  "Toma  este  sombrerito  como  sena  que 
me  entregastes  mi  carta.     Dile  k  Dios  todo  lo  que  has  visto  en  el  camino." 

Cuando  el  nino  regres6  ya  no  habia  nada  en  el  camino.  Lleg6  k  la  casita 
vieja  y  le  dijo  el  viejecito,  "^Ya  venistes,  hijo?" — "Ya,"  contest6  el  nino. 
"jBueno!"  le  dijo  el  viejecito,  "cu6ntame  algo  de  lo  que  vistes  en  el  camino." 

"Sefior,"  le  dijo  el  niiio,  "primero  vi  un  r  o  Colorado,  Colorado." — "Pues  ese 
rio  Colorado  es,"  le  dijo  Dios,  "la  sangre  que  derram6  tu  madre  por  ti!" 

"Despu6s  vi  un  rio  bianco,  bianco." — "Ese  es  la  leche  que  mamastes." 

"Despues  vi  un  rio  verde,  verde." — "Ese  son  las  venas  de  tu  madre." 

"Despues  vi  un  cerro  zacatoso  que  se  rodaban  las  vacas  de  flacas." — "Esas 
son  las  vacas  de  los  ricos." 

"Despu6s  vi  un  cerro  pel6n,  que  se  rodaban  las  vacas  de  gordas." — "Esas 
son  las  vacas  de  los  pobres." 

"Despud's  vi  unas  piedras  que  se  pegaban  unas  con  otras." — "Esas  son  las 
comadres  de  pila  cuando  se  pelean." 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  219 

"Cuando  lleguc  a  Monjas  estaba  una  asadura  as4ndose." — "Esa  es  la  lengua 
del  chismoso." 

"  Bueno,  hijo,"  le  dijo  Dios,  "  ly  ahora  qu6  quiercs,  cl  dinero  6  las  gracias?" 
— "Las  gracias,"  contcst6  el  nino.  "Estd  bien,"  le  dijo  el  viejccito,  "ten  este 
crucifijo,  y  en  la  peana  (peana)  encontrards  todos  los  dias  un  diario." 

Se  fu6  el  nino  miiy  contento.  Cuando  llcg6  k  su  casa  le  coloc6  en  su  altar 
y  todo5  los  dias  cuando  amanecia,  encontr6  dos  pesos  en  la  peana  del  crucifijo. 

Cuando  un  dia  de  tantos  estaba  el  nino  almorzando,  divis6  k  lo  lejos  un  vieje- 
cito  envuelto  en  su  sdbana  y  lleno  de  llagas,  asqueroso.  Llcg6  hasta  las  puertas 
y  dijo,  "(Buenos  dias!" — "i  Buenos  dias,  senor!"  contest6  el  niiio,  y  sus  demds 
hermanos  comenzaron  d  tapar  la  comida,  porque  les  daba  mucho  asco.  Sola- 
mente  el  nino  mds  pequeno  le  sirvi6  de  comer  al  viejecito. 

Entonces  dijo  el  sefior,  "Tii  no  has  tenido  asco  de  mi,  y  ahora  te  llevard  en 
cuerpo  y  alma."  Se  lo  llev6  al  nino,  y  sus  hermanos  se  quedaron  con  sus  comidas 
llenas  de  gusanos  y  en  la  olla,  en  lugar  de  comida,  una  culebra. 

4.    THE    LONG-LEGS  ' 

There  was  a  Long-Legs,  and  it  was  very  cold.  He  was  sleeping  in 
the  foliage  of  a  tree,  and  on  the  next  day  he  could  not  sleep  because 
his  foot  was  broken. 

Then  said  the  Long-Legs,  "Cold,  cold,  how  strong  you  are,  who  have 
broken  my  foot!"  Then  the  Cold  said,  "But  stronger  is  the  Sun, 
because  he  heats  me." 

He  went  to  where  the  Sun  is,  and  said  to  him,  "Sun,  how  strong  you 
are,  —  Sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  —  "But 
stronger  is  the  cloud,  because  it  covers  me." 

"Cloud,  how  strong  you  are,  —  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats 
frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  —  "  But  stronger  is  the  wind,  because 
it  dissolves  me." 

"Wind,  how  strong  you  are,  —  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that 
covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  tliat  broke  my  foot!"  —  "But 
stronger  is  the  wall,  because  it  resists  me." 

"Wall,  how  strong  you  arc,  —  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dis- 
solves cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  tiiat  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke 
my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  mouse,  because  he  perforates  me." 

"  Mouse,  how  strong  you  are,  —  mouse  tiiat  i)erforates  wall,  wall  that 
resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that 
heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  cat, 
because  he  cats  mc." 

"Cat,  how  strong  you  are,  —  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that 
perforates  wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud 
that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  m\-  foot!"  — 
"But  stronger  is  the  stick,  because  it  kills  me." 

"Stick,  how  strong  you  are,  —  stick  th.it  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats 
mouse,  mouse  that  perff)rates  wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that 
'  A  kind  of  mosquito  wuh  \rrv  |i«ng  legs. 


220  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that 
broke  my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  fire,  because  it  burns  me." 

"Fire,  how  strong  you  are,  —  fire  that  burns  stick,  stick  that  kills 
cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that  perforates  wall,  wall  that  resists 
wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats 
frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  water, 
because  it  quenches  me." 

"Water,  how  strong  you  are,  —  water  that  quenches  fire,  fire  that 
burns  stick,  stick  that  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that 
perforates  wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud 
that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  — 
"But  stronger  is  the  steer,  because  he  drinks  me." 

"Steer,  how  strong  you  are,  —  steer  that  drinks  water,  water  that 
quenches  fire,  fire  that  burns  stick,  stick  that  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats 
mouse,  mouse  that  perforates  wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that 
dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that 
broke  my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  knife,  because  it  kills  me." 

"Knife,  how  strong  you  are,  —  knife  that  kills  steer,  steer  that 
drinks  water,  water  that  quenches  fire,  fire  that  burns  stick,  stick  that 
kills  cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that  perforates  wall,  wall  that 
resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that 
heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  the  black- 
smith, because  he  makes  me." 

"Blacksmith,  how  strong  you  are,  —  blacksmith  who  makes  knife, 
knife  that  kills  steer,  steer  that  drinks  water,  water  that  quenches 
fire,  fire  that  burns  stick,  stick  that  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse, 
mouse  that  perforates  wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves 
cloud,  cloud  that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my 
foot!"  —  "But  stronger  is  Death,  because  he  kills  me." 

He  went  to  Death,  and  said,  "Death,  how  strong  you  are, — 
death  that  kills  blacksmith,  blacksmith  who  makes  knife,  knife  that 
kills  steer,  steer  that  drinks  water,  water  that  quenches  fire,  fire  that 
burns  stick,  stick  that  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that  per- 
forates wall,  wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud 
that  covers  sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!"  — 
"But  stronger  is  God,  because  he  sends  me." 

"God,  how  strong  you  are,  —  God  who  sends  Death,  Death  who 
kills  blacksmith,  blacksmith  who  makes  knife,  knife  that  kills  steer, 
steer  that  drinks  water,  water  that  quenches  fire,  fire  that  burns  stick, 
stick  that  kills  cat,  cat  that  eats  mouse,  mouse  that  perforates  wall, 
wall  that  resists  wind,  wind  that  dissolves  cloud,  cloud  that  covers 
sun,  sun  that  heats  frost,  frost  that  broke  my  foot!" 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  221 

ZANCUDO 

Era  un  Zancudo.  Hacia  mucho  frio  y  se  qued6  dormido  en  la  hoja  de  un 
drbol,  y  el  dia  siguiente  ya  no  pudo  volar  porque  se  lo  quebr6  su  pi6. 

Entoncesdijo  el  Zancudo,  "Frio,  frio,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu,  quehasquebrado 
k  mi  pi6."  Entonces  le  dijo  el  frio,  "Pero  mds  valiente  es  el  sol,  porque  me 
calienta." 

Fu6  k  donde  estd  el  sol  y  le  dijo,  "  Sol  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — sol  que  calienta 
al  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mAs  valiente  es  la  nube  porque  me 
tapa." 

"Nube,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  a!  hielo, 
hielo  que  quebr6  d  mi  pie." — "  Pero  mds  valiente  es  el  aire,  porque  me  deshace." 

"Aire,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol, 
sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mds  valiente  es  la 
pared,  porque  me  resiste." 

"Pared,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — pared  que  resiste  al  aire,  aire  que  deshace 
nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — Pero 
mds  valiente  es  el  rat6n  porque  me  agujerea." 

"  Rat6n,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — rat6n  que  agujerea  pared,  pared  que  resiste 
aire,  aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que 
quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mks  valiente  es  el  gato  porque  me  come." 

"Gato,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — gato  que  come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerea 
pared,  pared  que  resiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que 
calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "  Pero  mks  valiente  es  el  palo  porque 
me  mata." 

"Palo,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que  come  rat6n, 
rat6n  que  agujerea  pared,  pared  que  resiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube 
que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pie." — "Pero  mks 
valiente  es  la  lumbre  porque  me  quenia." 

"Lumbre,  qud  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — lumbre  que  quema  palo,  palo  que  mata 
gato,  gato  que  come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerea  pared,  pared  que  resiste  aire, 
aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  que- 
br6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mks  valiente  es  el  agua  porque  me  apaga." 

"  Agua,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — agua  que  apaga  lumbre,  lumbre  que  quema 
palo,  palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que  come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerea  pared,  pared 
que  resiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo, 
hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mks  valiente  es  el  buey  pxjrque  me  bebe." 

"  Buey,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tij, — buey  que  bebe  agua,  agua  que  apaga  lumbre, 
lumbre  que  (juema  palo,  palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que  come  ral6n.  raton  que 
agujerea  pared,  pared  que  resiste  aire,  aire  (|uc  deshace  nube,  nube  que  tapa  st)l, 
sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "Pero  mAs  valiente  es  el 
cuchillo  porque  me  mata." 

"Cuchillo,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tii, — cuchillo  que  mata  buey,  buey  que  Ih-1)C 
agua,  agua  que  ajjaga  lumbre,  lumbre  que  quema  palo,  palo  que  mata  gato, 
gato  que  come  rat6n,  ral6n  (lue  agujerea  pared,  pared  (jue  resiste  aire,  aire  que 
deshace  nulx*,  nube  (jue  tai)a  sol,  sol  (|ue  calienta  hielo,  hit-lo  c]ue  c|uel)r6  k  mi 
pi6." — "  Pero  m.'is  valiente  es  el  herrero  jK)r(|ue  me  hace." 

"  Herrero,  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — herrero  cjue  hace  cuchillo,  cuchillo  que  mata 
buey,  buey  que  bebe  agua,  agua  que  apaga  lumbre,  lumbre  que  quema  palo, 
palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que  come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerea  jiared,  pared  que 
resiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace  nube,  nul)e  c|ue  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo, 
hielo  ([ue  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." — "  Pero  mks  valiente  es  la  nuicrte  iwrcjue  me  mata." 


222  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

Fu6  A  la  muerte  y  dijo,  "  Muerte  qu6  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — niucrte  que  mata 
herrero,  herrcro  que  hace  cuchillo,  cuchillo  que  mata  buey,  buey  que  bebe  agua, 
agua  que  apaga  lumbre,  lumbre  que  quema  palo,  palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que 
come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerca  pared,  pared  que  rcsiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace 
nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calicnta  hiclo,  hielo  ciue  quebr6  d  mi  pi6." — "  Pcro 
mAs  valiente  es  Dies  porque  me  manda." 

"  Uios,  que  tan  valiente  eres  tu, — Dios  que  manda  muerte,  muerte  que  mata 
herrero,  herrero  que  hace  cuchillo,  cuchillo  que  mata  buey,  buey  que  bebe  agua, 
agua  que  apaga  lumbre,  lumbre  que  quema  palo,  palo  que  mata  gato,  gato  que 
come  rat6n,  rat6n  que  agujerea  pared,  pared  que  resiste  aire,  aire  que  deshace 
nube,  nube  que  tapa  sol,  sol  que  calienta  hielo,  hielo  que  quebr6  k  mi  pi6." 

5.   THE   CHARCOAL-BURNER 

There  was  a  charcoal-burner  who  had  a  friend  who  was  very  poor 
and  went  to  sell  a  basketful  of  charcoal  every  day.  He  gained  four 
reales.  Once  upon  a  time  he  came  to  a  very  lonely  brook,  and  found 
some  boxes  of  cigarettes  and  cigars,  several  large  tables,  and  began 
to  sweep  under  the  tree.     He  found  four  reales. 

He  went  home  well  satisfied,  and  went  to  talk  with  his  friend  about 
what  he  had  found.  His  friend  said  at  once,  "I'll  go  too,  and  do 
the  same."  —  "All  right!"  said  he.  He  gave  him  instructions,  telling 
him  what  he  had  to  do. 

His  friend  arrived  at  the  brook  and  began  to  sweep,  and  found  the 
four  reales;  and  this  was  the  cave  of  the  robbers.  He  climbed  a  tree. 
At  midnight  the  robbers  arrived.  They  began  to  play  at  dice,  and 
the  man  in  the  tree  above  coughed.  Then  the  robbers  took  him  down 
from  the  tree  and  left  him  half  dead.  They  gathered  up  his  money 
and  took  it  along. 

When  a  coachman  passed  by,  the  charcoal-burner  asked  him  to  take 
him  to  his  house.  The  coachman  agreed.  When  he  arrived  at  home,  he 
complained  to  his  friend,  and  said,  "You  are  to  blame  for  my  mis- 
fortune."—  "Don't  trouble  yourself,"  he  said  to  him,  "I'll  give  you 
alms  every  day.     Come  to  my  house,  and  I'll  give  you  bread." 

He  went  every  day;  and  one  day  his  friend  got  tired,  and  said  to 
him,  "Look  here,  friend!  I'll  give  you  a  very  great  present,  and  then 
you  shall  never  come  back  to  molest  mc."  Then  he  ordered  several 
cakes  to  be  made,  and  in  every  cake  a  guinea  to  be  put,  and  then  he 
sent  them  to  the  house  of  his  friend. 

Then  the  sick  friend  said  to  his  daughter,  "Look  here,  daughter! 
Let  us  go  and  distribute  these  cakes  among  our  neighbors!  for  we 
have  enough,  and  what  shall  we  do  with  so  many  cakes?"  They 
distributed  them,  and  not  one  was  left  to  them. 

Then  they  went  again  to  the  house  of  the  friend.  "  How  is  this  ?" 
said  the  friend  to  him,  "when  I  gave  you  so  large  a  present,  that  you 
should  never  come  again  and  trouble  me?     Imagine!  in  every  cake 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  223 

there  was  one  guinea."  Then  the  friend  said  to  him,  "I  have  just 
distributed  them  among  my  neighbors,  for  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with  so  many." 

Before  this  he  had  told  his  daughter  to  set  fire  to  his  hut  when  she 
should  see  him  from  afar,  and  the  daughter  did  so.  She  set  fire  to 
the  hut,  and  it  is  still  burning. 

EL    CARBONERO 

Era  un  carbonero  que  tenia  un  compadre  que  era  sumamente  pobre  y  que 
iba  &  vender  un  canasto  de  carb6n  todos  los  dJas.  Ganaba  cuatro  reales.  Una 
vez  Ileg6  d  un  arroyo  muy  solo,  y  encontr6  unas  cajitas  de  cigarros,  de  puros, 
y  unas  mesas  grandes,  y  comenz6  4  barrer  debajo  del  Arbol.  Encontr6  cuatro 
reales. 

Se  fu6  para  su  casa  muy  contento,  y  61  fu6  k  platicar  4  su  compadre  lo  que  se 
habia  encontrado.  Luego  el  compadre  le  dijo,  "Yo  tambien  voy  k  hacer  lo 
mismo." — "EstA  bien,"  le  dijo.  Le  di6  todas  las  indicaciones,  que  habia  de 
hacer. 

Llcg6  el  compadre  al  arroyo  y  comenz6  k  barrer  y  encontr6  los  cuatro  reales, 
y  era  la  cueva  de  los  ladroncs.  Se  trej^i  al  irbol.  A  media  noche  llcgaron  los 
ladrones.  Comenzaron  k  jugar  k  los  dados,  y  el  senor  que  estaba  en  el  drbol 
arriba  tosi6.  Entonces  los  ladrones  lo  bajaron  del  4rbol  y  lo  dejaron  medio 
muerto.     Recogieron  su  dinero  y  se  lo  llevaron. 

Cuando  pas6  un  cochero  y  le  rog6  el  carbonero  que  lo  trajera  k  su  casa. 
Acept6  el  cochero.  Llegando  k  su  casa  se  quej6  con  su  compadre  y  le  dijo, 
"Tu  tienes  la  culpa  que  haya  quedado  infeliz." — "No  tengas  cuidado,"  le  dijo, 
"yo  te  dart  una  limosna  todos  los  dias.  V'ienes  k  mi  casa  para  que  yo  te  d6 
el  pan." 

Iba  todos  los  dlas,  y  un  dia  de  tantos  se  enfad6  el  compadre,  y  Ic  dijo,  "  Mira, 
compadre,  te  voy  k  dar  una  limosna  muy  grande,  para  que  jamds  y  nunca  me 
vengas  k  molestar."  Entonces  mand6  hacer  unas  tortas  de  pan  y  en  cada  torta 
de  pan  una  onza  de  oro,  y  se  lo  mand6  k  la  casa  del  comi)adre. 

Entonces  el  compadre  enfermo  le  dijo  k  su  hija,  "  Mira,  hija;  vamos  k  repartir 
estas  tortas  k  los  vecinos,  porque  tenemos  bastantes,  y  dque  har6moscon  tantas?" 
Comenzaron  k  rcpartirlas  sin  que  le  quedaba  ninguna. 

Se  fueron  en  seguida  otra  vez  k  la  casa  del  compadre.  "  cC6mo,"  le  dijo 
el  compadre,  "(Jsi  ya  te  di  una  limosna  tan  grande,  para  (jue  jamAs  y  nunca  me 
viniera.s  k  niolestar?  Eigi'irate  que  cada  torta  de  pan  tenia  una  onza  de  oro." 
Entonces  el  compadre  le  dijo.  "Las  acab6  de  repartir  con  mis  vecinos,  porque 
no  sabia  (juc  hacer  con  tantas." 

MA.H  antes  le  habia  dicho  k  su  hija,  que  cuando  lo  viera  de  lejos.  le  enccndiera 
lumbre  k  su  ca.'ta,  y  asl  lo  hizo  su  hij.i.  I^  encendi6  lumbre  A  la  rasa  y  hasta 
ahora  se  cstA  qucmando. 

6.  TMK  DF.VIl. 
There  was  a  man  pursued  by  the  Devil,  to  whom,  wherever  lie  went, 
he  appeared  in,  the  form  of  a  manikin.  Once  upon  a  lime  the  man 
went  to  mass,  and  there  was  the  DeviL  Whatever  the  padre  did  at 
mass,  thf  Devil  did  too.  He  alighted  on  the  shoulders  of  the  boys, 
and  made  them  sleep, 
vol..  XYv. — NO.  96.  — 15 


224  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

The  man  went  and  talked  with  the  curate;  and  the  padre  said, 
"I'll  take  your  confession,  in  order  to  see  why  you  have  these  visions. 
To-morrow  go  to  early  mass,  in  order  to  see  if  you'll  again  see  that 
manikin." 

The  man  went  to  mass,  and  there  he  was.  Then  he  went  to  con- 
fession, and  the  Demon  went  there  also.  Then  the  padre  said,  "My 
son,  take  this  string,  and  follow  the  Demon  wherever  he  goes,  catch 
him  with  this  string,  and  bring  him  to  me." 

Again  the  man  went  to  church  with  the  string  in  his  hand.  The 
Demon  left  the  church,  and  the  man  followed  behind.  He  saw  how 
he  made  some  dogs  fight;  he  saw  how  he  made  some  drunkards  fight; 
and  the  man  followed  the  Demon.  He  entered  a  saloon,  and  put 
himself  into  a  pot  of  tepache} 

Then  he  went  to  notify  the  curate  that  the  Demon  had  put  himself 
in  a  pot  of  tepache;  and  the  curate  said  to  him,  "Go  and  ask  the  lady 
how  much  she  wants  to  allow  you  to  put  your  hand  in  and  pull  out 
that  beast  that  is  in  the  pot."  The  lady  was  frightened,  and  said, 
"You  shall  pay  me  nothing,  only  pull  that  beast  out  of  there."  Then 
the  man  put  his  hand  and  the  string  in,  and  caught  him  in  a  noose.  It 
was  not  a  manikin  that  came  out,  but  a  person  with  the  feet  of  a 
rooster;  and  he  took  him  to  where  the  padre  was;  and  the  padre  said 
tc  him,  "Tie  him  up  here,  and  give  him  hay  to  eat." 

Then  the  padre  went  to  where  the  beast  had  been  tied  up,  and  said 
to  him,  "Why  are  you  interfering  where  it  does  not  behoove  you?" 
The  Demon  said  to  him,  "Let  me  go!  Promise  to  free  me,  and  I'll 
tell  you  why."  —  "Yes,"  said  the  padre.  "I  promise  to  free  you; 
But  tell  me,  why  do  you  come  to  my  church?"  Then  the  Demon 
replied,  "  Because  you  owe  a  vow  to  Rome;  and  if  you  wish  to  fulfill  it, 
I'll  take  you  there  in  four  and  twenty  hours."  —  "Yes,"  said  the 
padre  to  him.  "But  you  know,"  said  the  Demon,  "we  shall  not 
travel  by  land,  but  by  sea."  —  "All  right!"  said  the  padre.  "Early 
to-morrow  we  will  go." 

The  next  day,  when  daylight  broke,  a  saddled  mule  was  in  front  of 
the  door  of  the  curate's  house.  The  padre  mounted,  and  they  went  on 
the  waters.     In  four  and  twenty  hours  they  were  in  Rome. 

The  padre  arrived  at  a  house,  and  tied  up  his  mule.  The  padre 
went  to  church,  and  brought  from  there  many  relics,  pictures,  and 
rosaries,  which  he  put  into  a  satchel.  He  did  not  find  the  mule  tied 
up,  but  the  people  of  the  house  were  very  much  frightened  because  the 
mule  had  turned  into  a  man;  and  the  man  said  to  the  landlord,  "Would 
you  like  to  see  how  I  put  myself  into  this  bottle  of  wine  here?"  — 
"Yes,"  said  the  people,  "we  should  like  to  see  how  you  do  it."  Then 
he  put  himself  into  the  bottle. 

'  An  alcoholic  liquor  made  of  a  solution  of  unrefined  cane-sugar  (canela). 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  225 

The  padre  came,  put  the  string  inside  the  bottle,  caught  him  in  the 
noose,  and  pulled  him  out  in  the  shape  of  a  man.  "Let  us  go!"  he 
said,  "  I  am  ready."  He  tied  up  the  man  by  the  nape  of  his  neck,  and 
he  turned  again  into  a  saddled  mule,  and  the  curate  mounted  her. 
Then  the  mule  could  not  walk,  on  account  of  the  relics  which  the 
curate  carried.  The  Mule  said  to  him,  "Throw  away  those  things 
which  you  are  carrying,  for  they  burn  me  much.  I  promise  you  that 
you  shall  find  them  on  your  table." 

Then  the  padre  threw  his  relics  into  the  middle  of  the  sea,  and  in 
four  and  twenty  hours  he  arrived  at  his  house.  The  padre  let  him  go, 
and  said,  "Go  away,  accursed  one,  and  never  come  again  to  trouble 
me."     The  Demon  did  not  come  back. 

EL    DIABLO 

Era  un  hombre  perseguido  del  diablo  que,  dondequiera  que  iba,  siempre  se  le 
andaba  apareciendo  en  figura  dc  un  machin.  Una  vez  se  fu6  k  misa  el  hombre 
y  allf  estaba  el  diablo.  Todo  lo  que  hacia  el  padre  en  misa  lo  hacia  el  demonio 
tambi6n.     Se  iba  en  el  hombro  de  los  ninos  y  los  echaba  k  dormir. 

Fu6  el  hombre  y  se  lo  platic6  al  cura;  y  le  dijo  el  padre,  "Ahora  te  voy  d 
confesar,  4  ver  porque  andas  mirando  esas  visiones.  Vas  manana  A  misa  tem- 
prano  k  ver  si  vuelves  otra  vez  k  ver  ese  machin." 

Fu6  el  hombre  k  misa  y  alii  estaba.  En  seguida  se  fu6  k  confesar  y  alii  iba 
el  demonio.  Entonces  le  dijo  el  padre,  "Ten,  hijo,  este  cord6n,  y  dondequiera 
que  vaya  el  demonio,  tu  lo  sigues  y  lo  lazas  con  este  cord6n  y  me  lo  traes  aqui." 

Se  fu6  el  hombre  otra  vez  k  la  iglesia  con  el  cord6n  en  la  mano.  Sali6  el 
demonio  de  la  iglesia  y  el  hombre  detris.  Vi6  como  ech6  unos  perros  k  pelear; 
vi6  como  ech6  k  unos  borrachos  k  pelear,  y  sigui6  el  hombre  al  demonio.  Entr6 
en  una  taverna  y  se  meti6  en  una  de  las  ollas  de  tepache. 

Entonces  le  fu6  k  avisar  al  cura  que  ya  estaba  alii  metido  en  una  de  las  ollas 
de  tepache,  y  le  dijo  el  cura,  "Anda  preguntale  k  la  sefiora  que  cuanto  quiere 
por  que  le  metas  la  mano  y  saques  k  este  animal  que  estA  dentro  de  la  olla." 
Entonces  la  senora  se  asust6  mucho  y  le  dijo,  "  Nada  me  pagarAs,  pero  saca  ese 
animal  de  alii."  Entonces  el  hombre  meti6  la  mano  y  el  cord6n,  y  lo  laz6. 
Ya  no  sali6  el  machin  sino  que  un  hombre  que  tenia  pi6s  de  gallo;  y  se  lo  lUv6 
4  donde  estaba  el  padre;  y  le  dijo  cl  [)adre,  "  Amdrralo  allf,  y  6chale  zacate  que 
comer." 

Entonces  vino  el  padre  k  donde  estaba  amarrado  el  animal  y  le  dijo,  "(•'Porqud' 
tlj  te  andas  mctiendo  k  donde  no  te  convicne?"  Entonces  le  dijo  el  demonic, 
"ilJ6jame  ir!  I'rom^tcmc  que  me  sueltas  y  (c  dir6  porcju^." — "Si,"  lo  dijo 
cl  padre.  "Te  prometo  sf)ltarte,  pero  dime  ,J[)<)rciu6  tc  vas  en  mi  tcmplo?" 
EntfMiccs  contest6  cl  demonio,  "  Porque  debcs  una  promesa  k  Roma,  y  si  quicrcs 
ir  k  cumplirlo  yo  tc  llevar6  en  veinticuatro  boras." — "S(,"  le  dijo  el  padre. 
"Pero  salK's,"  le  dijo  el  demonio,  "que  no  vamos  k  raminar  por  tierra,  sino  que 
por  el  mar." — "  EstA  bien,"  le  dijo  el  padre.  ".Manana  muy  temprano  nos 
irenios." 

Al  otrodia,  ruandoamancci*'),  una  mula  ensillada  estaba  en  la  piierta  drl  rurato, 
y  se  mont6  cl  padre,  y  se  fiicron  cncinia  dr  las  aguas.  En  vciiiticualro  horas 
ya  estaban  en  Roma. 

Llcg6  el  padre  A  una  casa  y  aniarr*')  la  mula.     Se  fu«''  cl  padre  al  tcmplo,  y 


226  Journal  of  Americayi  Folk-Lore 

trajo  de  alia  muchas  reliquias,  estampas,  rosarios.  Le  coloc6  en  una  jjetaca. 
Ya  no  encontr6  A  la  mula  ainarrada,  sino  que  la  gente  de  la  casa  estaba  muy 
asustada  porque  se  volvi6  en  hombre  la  mula,  y  el  hombre  le  dijo  al  dueno  de 
la  casa,  "<Quieren  Vdes.  ver  que  yo  me  puedo  meter  en  esta  botella  que  est4 
ahJ?" — "SI,"  le  dijeron  los  hombres,  "queremos  ver  que  tc  mctas."  Y  entonces 
se  meti6  en  la  botella. 

Lleg6  el  padre,  mcti6  el  cord6n  dentro  de  la  botella,  lo  laz6  y  lo  sac6  en  figura 
de  un  hombre.  "VAmonos,"  le  dijo,  "ya  estoy  listo."  Amarr6  al  hombre  del 
pescuczo  y  se  volvi6  otra  vez  la  mula  ensillada,  y  se  mont6  en  ella  el  cura.  En- 
tonces ya  no  podia  andar  la  mula  por  las  reliquias  que  llevaba  el  cura.  Le  dijo 
la  mula,  "Tira  esos  mecates  que  llevas,  porque  me  queman  mucho.  Te  prometo 
que  en  tu  mesa  los  encontrar^s." 

Entonces  el  padre  tir6  sus  reliquias  en  medio  del  mar  y  en  veinticuatro  horas 
lleg6  al  curato.  Lo  solt6  el  padre  y  le  dijo,  "jAnda,  vete  maldito!  ya  no  me 
vengas  d  perturbar  jamis."     Ya  no  volvi6  el  demonio. 

7.   THE   DEAD 

There  was  an  old  woman  who  worked  much  at  night,  spinning  and 
weaving  her  cloth.  One  moonlight  night  her  dog  howled  much;  and 
the  old  woman  said,  "Why  does  my  dog  howl  so  much?"  She  took 
it  in  her  arms,  and  took  the  excretion  out  of  the  eyes  of  the  dog  and 
put  it  in  her  own  eyes,  and  remained  there  looking  out  on  the  street, 
and  she  saw  a  procession  coming,  —  many  people  with  burning  candles 
in  their  hands.  She  stood  there,  and  the  procession  passed  the  door 
of  her  house. 

Then  one  person  came  out  of  the  procession  and  gave  a  candle  to 
the  old  woman  who  was  standing  in  the  doorway.  He  said  to  her, 
"Take  this  candle,  and  to-morrow,  when  we  pass  again  at  the  same 
hour,  give  it  to  me."  —  "Well,"  said  the  old  woman.  She  took  the 
candle  and  put  it  on  her  altar.  She  took  the  excretion  out  of  her 
eyes  and  went  to  sleep. 

The  next  day,  early  in  the  morning,  there  was  no  candle,  but  the 
shin-bone  of  a  dead  person.  The  old  woman  was  frightened,  and  went 
to  confession.  Then  the  padre  said  to  her,  "  Go  get  a  very  young  infant, 
and  stand  in  the  doorway  of  your  house  with  the  shin-bone  in  one  hand, 
and  the  infant  in  the  other.  When  the  procession  passes  and  the  man 
asks  for  the  candle  which  he  gave  you  last  night,  and  when  you  give 
it  to  him,  pinch  the  baby  so  that  it  cries,  and  give  the  man  the  candle 
with  your  other  hand." 

The  old  woman  did  so.  She  stood  in  the  doorway  and  pinched  the 
baby  while  she  passed  the  candle  to  the  man;  and  the  Dead  said  to  the 
old  woman,  "This  protects  you,  for  this  was  the  hour  when  we  were  to 
take  you;"  and  thus  the  old  woman  freed  herself. 

LOS   MUERTOS 

Pues,  era  una  vicjecita  que  trabajaba  mucho  de  nochc  en  hilar  y  tejer  su  manta. 
Una  nochc  de  luna  lloraba  mucho  un  perro  que  tenia,  y  dijo  la  viejecita,  "  dPorqufe 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore 


227 


llorard  tanto  mi  perro?"  Entonces  abraz6  al  perro  y  le  quit6  las  chinciuinas 
de  los  ojos  del  perro,  y  se  lo  coloc6  ella  en  sus  ojos,  y  se  qued6  mirando  k  la  calle, 
y  vi6  una  procesi6n  que  ven(a:  mucha  gente  con  velas  en  la  mano  ardiendo.  Se 
qued6  parada  ella  y  pas6  la  proccsi6n  en  la  puerta  de  la  casa. 

Entonces  sali6  uno  de  ellos  y  le  di6  una  vela  4  la  viejecita  que  estaba  parada 
en  la  puerta.  Le  dijo,  "Ten  esta  vela,  y  manana,  cuando  volvamos  a  pasar 
d  estas  niismas  horas,  me  la  das." — "Bueno,"  dijo  la  viejecita,  cogi6  la  vela  y 
la  puso  en  su  altar.     Se  quit6  las  chinquinas  y  sc  fue  ^  dormir. 

Al  otro  dia  ya  no  amaneci6  la  vela,  sino  que  una  canilla  de  muerto.  Se 
asust6  la  viejecita  y  se  fu6  k  confesar.  Entonces  le  dijo  el  padre,  "  Vas  k  buscar 
una  criatura  tierna,  y  te  paras  en  la  puerta  de  la  casa  con  la  canilla  en  tu  mano, 
y  la  criatura  en  la  otra  mano.  Cuando  pase  la  procesi6n  entonces  te  pide  la 
vela  el  hombre  que  te  la  di6  anoche,  y  cuando  tu  le  des  la  vela,  entonces  le  jiegas 
un  pellizco  al  nene  para  que  llore,  y  con  la  otra  mano  le  das  la  vela  al  hombre." 

Asf  hizo  la  viejecita.  Se  par6  en  la  puerta  y  le  di6  un  pellizco  al  nene  cuando 
le  pas6  la  vela  al  hombre;  y  le  dijeron  los  muertos  k  la  viejecita  "que  te  valga 
eso,  sino  ahora  era  tiempK)  para  que  te  llev^ramos,"  y  asf  se  libr6  la  viejecita. 


RIDDLES  ' 
I. 

In  a  very  dark  room  is  a  dead  one, 
the  living  one  handling  the  dead  one, 
and  the  dead  one  is  shouting. 

A  piano. 
2. 
They  say  I  am  king,  and  I  have  no 

kingdom. 
They  say  I  am  blonde,  and  have  no 

hair. 
I  set  the  watch,  and  am  no  watch- 
maker. 

The  sun. 


ADI  VINOS  » 

I. 

En  un  cuarto  muy  oscuro  cstd  un 
muerto,  el  vivo  tentandoal  muerto,  y 
el  muerto  dando  gritos. 

El  piano. 
2. 

Dicen  que  soy  rey  y  no  tengo  reino. 
Diccn  que  soy  rubio  y  no  tengo  pelo. 
Comp>ongo  reloj  y  no  soy  relojero. 

El  sol. 


(Chile  695-697;  Dem.  927) 


I  am  round,  like  the  world; 
I  am  lady  with  a  wreath; 
lour  hundred  sons  I  have. 
And  with  my  tail  I  hold  them. 

Pomegranate. 


Soy  redondo  como  el  mundo, 
Soy  senora  con  corona, 
Cuatrocicntos  hijos  tengo 
Y  con  la  cola  los  mantengo. 

I^  granada. 
(Chile  305,  758;  Dem.  loio) 


Dark  and  black 
He  goes  to  the  sky, 
Anrl  then  falls  l>ark. 
After  giving  a  cry. 


Un  ncgrito 
Siil)i6  al  cielo, 
PegA  un  grito, 
Cay6  al  suelo. 


4- 


A  rocket.  Cohcte. 

•The  romparativr  notrn  arc  from  Eliodoro  Florrn,  AdxxiHanzai  eorrimlfi  tn  ChiU, 
SantiaKo  (Ir  Chile.  1911  (qiif)tpd:  Chile);  Antonio  Machndo  y  Alvarex  ([lem6rilo\  CoUc- 
cidn  de  F.nin'nas  y  Adivinanzas,  Sevilla  18S0  (rjuolrd  Dem.);  FernAn  C'al>aliero,  Cuenlos. 
Oraciotifs,  Adivinas  y  Rrfrane\  (Mpularr^  i  infantiUi.  I-eip/iu  1K7K  (nuotefl  Cal>.);  F.  R. 
Marin,  Canlo^  popularr^  fspaHoU^  I.  Srvilla  iMMa  Cqiioted  Mar.).  Tlie  referenrm  to  ihc 
three  last-namcfl   hooks  liavr   hern  taken  from   the  notes  to  Flore*"   collection. 


228 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


(A  play  on  5a«ta  and  judia.) 


6. 


A  play  on  plata-no. 


In  a  very  dark  hole 
Is  a  man 

Mending  his  rain-coat 
With  a  turkey-feather. 


8. 

White  vine, 
Black  seeds, 
Five  little  bulls. 
One  calf. 

Paper,  ink,  fingers,  pen. 

9. 

A  watered  court, 

A  dry  court, 

Out  comes  a  monkey 

Quite  tipsy  (?). 

10. 

White  as  a  dove. 

Black  as  pitch, 

It  talks  and  has  no  tongue. 

It  runs  and  has  no  feet. 


Garlick. 


The  toad. 


A  letter. 


II. 
In  the  field  has  well  arisen 
That  which  never  has  been  sowed. 
With  its  green  cape 
And  its  pretty  red. 

Gold. 


12. 


No  soy  santa.  ni  judia 
Hasta  la  semana  santa 
Lleg6  mi  dia. 

La  sandia. 
(Compare  Chile  674) 


Oro  no  es,  plata  no  es, 
Abre  la  cortina 
Y  ver^s  lo  que  es. 

El  plitano. 
(Chile  618,  619;  Dem.  823) 

7- 
En  un  barranco  muy  oscuro 
Estd  un  hombre 
Remendando  su  capote 
Con  pluma  de  guajalote. 

El  ajo. 
(Compare  Chile  400) 

8. 

P^mpano  bianco, 
Semillas  negras, 
Cinco  toritos, 
Una  ternera. 

Papel,  tinta,  dedos,  pluma. 
(Chile  548) 

9- 
Patio  regado. 

Patio  4rido, 

Sale  un  monito 

Bien  empinado. 


EI  sapo. 


10. 


Tivirivirl 
Tavaravar4 


Blanca  como  la  paloma, 
Negra  como  la  pez, 
Habla  y  no  tiene  lengua, 
Corre  y  no  tiene  pi6s. 

Una  carta. 
(Chile  166;  Dem.  251,  252;  Cab.  129) 

II. 
En  el  campo  bien  nacido 
Lo  que  nunca  fu6  sembrado, 
Con  su  capotito  verde 
Y  su  bonito  encarnado. 

Oro. 
(Chile  174) 

12. 
Tiviriviri 
Tavaravard 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore 


229 


Painted  sheet, 
What  may  it  be? 


The  sky. 


13- 


Pingre  pingre  is  hanging, 
Mdngara  mdngara  is  standing. 
If  pingre  pingre  should  take  a  fall, 
Mdngara  mdngara  would  eat  it  all. 
Meat  and  cat. 


A  pinpin, 
A  tantan, 
A  chirivin,' 
A  scorpion. 


14. 


Bells. 


15- 


(A  play  on  cala  [cut  of  a  melon]  and 
basa.) 


Calabash. 


16. 


Letters  come  and  letters  go. 
Through  the  air  above  they  blow. 

Clouds. 


17- 
A  little  basket  filled  with  flowers 
Opens  at  night 
And  closes  in  the  day. 

The  stars. 


S^bana  pintada, 
(jQue  cosa  sera? 


Cielo. 


13. 


Pingre  pingre  estd  colgado, 
Mdngara  mAngara  estA  parado. 
Si  pingre  pingre  se  cayera, 
Mingara  mingara  lo  comiera. 

Carne  y  gato. 
(Chile  222;  Dem.  563;  Cab.  120) 


Un  pinpin, 
Un  tantdn, 
Un  chirivin, 
Un  alacrin. 


14. 


Campanas. 


15- 


Calabasa. 


En  la  cala  del  mel6n 
Tengo  fijado  mi  nombre; 

Y  en  la  basa  del  jugador 
Mi  sobre  nombre. 

16. 
Cartas  ven  y  cartas  vienen, 
En  el  aire  se  mantienen. 

Las  nubes. 
(Compare  Chile  192;  Dem.  275) 

17- 

Una  canastita  llenita  de  flores 
De  noche  se  extiende 

Y  de  dia  se  recoje. 

Las  cstrellas. 
(Chile  272,  296) 


Button  over  button. 

Button  of  filigree. 

You  don't  guess  me  now, 

And  not  from  here  till  to-morrow. 

rincapple. 


Bot6n  sobre  bot6n, 
Bot6n  de  filigrana. 
No  me  adivinas  ahora, 
Pero  ni  de  aquf  A  manana. 

Pinas. 
(Compare  Chile  178,  179) 


19- 
(Play  on  words  on  agua-calc.) 


19. 
Agua  pasa  por  mi  casa 
CaU  dc  mi  coraz6n 
No  me  divinas  ora 
Pcro  ni  dc  acjul  ix.  la  ocasi6n. 


Aguacate 


•  A  kind  of  root. 


230 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


20. 


A  little  black  one  above, 
And  red  Juan  below. 

Baking-plate  on  fire. 


21. 


Without  being  mule  in  the  mill, 
I  go  with  my  eyes  covered 
And  feet  apart. 

Scissors. 


20. 

Chico  negrito  arriba 

Y  Ju4n  Colorado  abajo. 

Comal  y  lumbre. 

21. 

Sin  ser  mulo  de  molina 
Voy  con  los  ojos  tapado 

Y  las  patas  al  compds. 

Las  tijeras. 
(Compare  Chile  725-731,  733) 


22. 


An  oven. 

Four  pillars, 

Two  man-frighteners. 

One  fly-frightener. 


A  cow 


22. 

Un  horno  de  pan, 
Cuatro  pilares, 
Dos  espanta-gentes, 
Un  espanta-mosca. 

La  vaca. 
(Chile  117,  761-764;  Dem.  ioi2;Cab.  78) 


23- 
A  cow  of  many  colors 
Threw  herself  into  the  sea. 
My  sea-water 
It  could  not  pass  (?). 


Darkness. 


24. 
In  a  mountain 
Is  a  man. 

He  has  teeth  and  does  not  eat, 
He  has  a  beard  and  is  no  man. 

Ear  of  corn. 


23. 
Una  vaca  pinta 
Se  tir6  k  la  mar. 
Mi  agua  de  mar 
No  pudo  pasar  (?). 


La  oscuridad. 
(Chile  488,  701) 


24. 
En  un  monte  monterano 
Estci  un  hombre  franco  sano,' 
Tiene  diente  y  no  come, 
Tiene  barbas  y  no  es  hombre. 

Mazorca. 
(Chile  36,  40,  41,  231;  Dem.  47) 


25. 
A  lady  is  coming  who  has  a  lord 
With  many  patches 
Without  a  stitch. 

A  hen. 


25. 
Una  senorita  viene  asenorada 
Con  muchos  remiendos 
Sin  una  puntada. 

La  galHna. 

(Chile  286,  287;  Dem.  461;  Emilia  Pardo  Bazan, 
"Folk-Lore  Gallego,"  in  Biblioleca  de  las  Tra- 
diciones  Popularcs,  vol.  iv,  p.  69) 


26. 
He  is  small,  like  a  rooster. 
But  can  stand  more  than  a  horse. 
? 


26. 
Chiquit'to,  como  un  gallo 
Pero  aguanta  mas  que  un  caballo. 

Las  cAmaras 
(Chile  149) 


•  In  Chili,  hay  un  padre  franciscano. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk -Lore 


231 


A  pock-marked  Indian 
Called  Barrabas 
Who  pushes  the  women 
To  and  fro. 


The  metate. 


Un  indito  cacarizo 
Que  se  llama  Barrab&s 
Que  empuje  d  las  mujeres 
Per  delante  y  por  detrds. 


El  metate. 


28. 
I  come  from  Pochutla 
Displeased  with  Tutepec 
My  eyes  are  black 
And  my  heart  yellow. 


The  egg. 


29. 

What  is  that  thing  which  one  orders 

weeping,  and  that  one  uses  singing? 

He  pays  for  it  who  does  not  want  it, 

and  he  uses  it  who  does  not  order  it. 

A  coffin. 


28. 
De  Pochutla  vengo  arriba 
De  Tutepec  ofendido 
Traigo  los  ojitos  negros 
Y  el  coraz6n  amarillo. 

El  huevo. 
(Chile  345,   346,  447;   Dem.   536, 
541,  543) 

29. 
lCuk\  es  el  objeto  que  se  encarga 
Uorando,  y  se  trabaja  cantando?     Lo 
paga  61  que  no  lo  quiere;  y  lo  usa  61 
que  no  lo  encarga. 

El  ataud. 
(Chile  69,  70,  71;  Dem.  188) 


SONGS 
(Sung  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar) 

1.  A  las  mujeres  quererlas 

Y  no  darles  de  comer 
Darles  palo  como  burro 

Y  agua  caliente  k  beber. 

2.  Anda,  vete  y  d6jame 
Estoy  cansado  de  amarte. 
No  me  metas  en  peligro 
De  matar  6  que  me  maten. 

3.  Dfme  si  ya  t'enojastes 

Que  no  me  hablas  te  agradczco. 
Del  mismo  gcnio  soy  yo 
Que  cuan   j  quiero  aborrczco. 

4.  Las  mujeres  son  los  diablo 
Parientc  de  los  demonio. 
Con  una  tijcra  vicja 
Pclaron  A  San  Antonio. 


5.  Para  qucdarme  dormido 
En  medio  de  tus  brazitos 
Como  nine  conscntido 
Mamando  los  pechitos. 


232  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

6.  Yo  le  pregunt6  k  Cupido 
Que  si  se  aman  las  casada ; 

Y  me  respondi6  afligido 
Que  esas  son  las  apreciada 
Que  ofenden  k  su  marido 

.    Y  sin  interes  de  nada. 

7.  No  duermo  por  adorarte 

Y  por  que  verte  me  despero 
Que  t'estimo  hast'  en  el  sueno 
Pero  cuando  la  rana  crie  pelo. 

8.  Yo  te  quisiera  decir; 
Pero  si  me  duele  el  alma, 
Gertrudis  y  Margarita, 
Dolores  y  Feliciana. 

9.  Tus  ojitos  me  han  gustado 
En  compania  de  tu  ceja; 
Tus  ojos  me  quieren  hablar 
Pero  si  tu  no  los  deja. 

10.  Cupido  con  Salom6n 
Salieron  al  campo  un  dia, 
Pudo  mis  el  interes 
Que  el  amor  que  le  tenia. 

11.  Navegando  en  una  balsa 
Me  quise  desvanecer, 

Y  me  agarr6  de  una  zarza 
No  me  pude  detener. 
Por  una  cuartilla  falsa 
Me  despreci6  una  mujer. 

12.  Me  embarqu6  en  una  falua 
En  un  barco  navegu6. 
Anda,  vete  tii  por  agua, 
Que  yo  por  tierra  me  \rt. 

13.  Que  bonito  par  de  ojitos 
Me  las  quisieras  vender 
Me  gusta  per  San  Ganito 

Que  hast'  en  el  modo  de  ver(?). 

14.  Si  la  pasi6n  te  domina 
0  te  hace  grado  el  amor 
T'  estiende  la  vista  y  mira 
'Hora  que  estds  en  la  flor 
No  despu^s  te  cause  envidia 

Y  quedris  otro  mejor. 

15.  Cupido  con  su  chulona 
En  el  sueno  le  decia, 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  233 

"Si  no  me  quieres,  pelona, 
Abrdzame,  vida  mia 
Mu6rdeme,  no  seas  chiquiona." 

16.  La  mujer  de  Salom6n 
Lo  vide  y  le  quise  hablar 
Y  me  respondi6  afligido: 
"  P6ngase  k  considerar 
El  que  se  meta  conmigo 
La  vida  le  va  d  costar." 

17.  De  Salom6n  y  Cupido 
Traigo  versos  muy  bonito. 

18.  Las  mujeres  al  querer 
Tienen  dem^s  un  sentido 
Querellan  k  sus  marido 
Como  potro  k  persogado 
Rclinchido  y  relinchido. 

19.  Soy  como  '1  amante  mudo 
Que  ama  sin  poder  hablar 

La  lengua  sf  me  hace  un  nudo 
Cuando  me  quiero  explicar. 

20.  Quisiera  ser  pavo  real 
Para  tener  plumas  bonita 
Pero  he  sido  cardinal 
Criado  en  las  tortolita 
Como  el  que  quiso  no  pudo 
Querer  k  la  mks  bonita. 

DECIMAS 
(Poems  presented  by  young  men  to  their  sweethearts) 
I. 
Un  jardfn  voy  k  formar 
De  todas  las  senoritas 
Unas  para  convcrtirlas  en  flores 
Y  otras  en  puras  rositas. 

I.  Las  Petronas  son  manzanas 
Las  Antonias  chirimoyas 
Las  Grcgoritas  cebollas 

Y  limas  las  Cayctanas 
Duraznos  scrdn  las  Juanas 
Que  k  todo  lo  han  de  hcrmosear 

Y  cl  quicn  quisicrc  coinprar 
Prev^ngase  de  antcmano 
Que  para  ser  hortclano 

Un  jardin  voy  d  formar. 


2^4  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

2.  Uvas  ser4n  las  Marcelas 
Las  Candelarias  sandias 
Calabasas  las  Marias 

Y  las  Teresitas  son  peras 
Las  Matianas  y  Ccberas 
Ni  m&s  ni  menos  zapote 
Las  Marcelinas  camote 
Buenos  para  refrescar 
Las  Angelas  tejocote 

Del  jardin  que  he  de  Jormar. 

3.  Pinas  serin  las  Panchitas 
Las  LoHtas  azucenas 
Propias  para  verbenas 
Creo  son  las  Margaritas 
Lechugas  las  Josefitas 
Las  Guadalupes  pepinas 
Las  Ignacias  son  cominos 
Que  tambi6n  debo  plantar 
Ha  de  quedar  de  primera 
El  jardin  que  he  de  formar. 

En  fin :        4.  Brevas  serin  las  Torribias 
Las  Juanitas  anonovias 
Guayabitas  las  Zenobias 

Y  naranjas  las  Emilias 
Guineo  son  las  Basilias 
Conio  son  las  Leonarditas 
Las  M6nicas  y  Mariquitas 
Que  k  la  vista  han  de  agradar 

Y  con  puras  Margaritas 
Un  jardin  voy  d  Jormar. 

Fin. 


n. 

Hasta  el  muelle  fuf  con  ella 
Comunicando  los  dos 
Ahi  fueron  los  suspiros 
Cuando  ella  me  dijo  adi6s. 

La  prenda  que  yo  estimaba 
Ya  se  apart6  de  mi  lado 
No  s6  que  causa  le  he  dado 
Tanto  como  lo  adoraba. 
Ella  nada  le  faltaba 
Era  reluciente  estrella 
De  m{  no  tuvo  quebrantc  ella 
En  todo  era  muy  cumplida 
Pero  no  se  fu6  sentida 
Ilasta  el  mucllc  fui  con  ella. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk- Lore  235 

2.  Le  pregunt6  4  mi  lucero 
Por  qu6  causa  se  me  iba 

Y  me  respondi6  sentida 

"Yo  no  me  voy  porque  quiero." 
Me  dijo  con  mucho  esmero 
"Ahora  te  quedas  con  Dios," 
Se  le  cerraba  la  voz 
Pues  ya  de  tanto  Uorar 
Cuando  ella  ya  iba  &.  montar 
Comunicando  los  dos. 

3.  Todo  se  le  iba  en  llorar 
ComunicAndome  k  mJ 
Con  dolor  me  despedf 
Cuando  'la  fui  k  encaminar. 
Pues  ya  de  tanto  llorar 
Dos  corazones  heridos 

Ya  se  echaban  los  retires 
En  aquel  pueblo  tirano 
Cuando  ella  me  di6  la  mano 
Alii  fueron  los  suspiros. 

En  fin:    4.  Ella  se  qued6  llorando 

Yo  puse  el  pi6  en  el  estribo 
Me  dijo,  "Vente  conmigo 
Que  por  tf  voy  suspirando." 

Y  yo  le  dije  llorando 
Con  un  llanto  muy  atroz 
Despidi6ndonos  los  dos 

"Para  acordarme  de  tf." 
No  pude  volver  en  sf 
Cuando  ella  me  dijo  adiSs. 
Fin. 

II.  THE  TALE  OF  COYOTE  AND  RABBIT  OF  THE  CHATINO.  OAXACA 

The  following  tale  was  recorded  by  me  in  Pochutla,  Oaxaca.  It  was 
dictated  in  Spanish  by  S.  Ez6quiel  Vazquez,  a  Chatino  who  lived  in 
Pochutla  in  the  winter  of  191 1-12. 

There  was  a  dear  old  woman  who  had  three  sons  and  had  a  field  of 
chilarro.  Rvery  ni^ht  a  Rahhil  rame  and  did  damajjc  to  it.  One  tiay 
the  dear  old  woman  bethought  herself  of  a  way  to  catch  the  Rabbit. 
After  she  had  consulted  several  persons,  one  of  them  advised  her  to 
make  a  little  monkey  of  wax,  and,  aflrr  covering'  the  field  thai  held 
the  chilarro,  to  leave  an  entrance  and  to  place  there  the  monkey  of  wax. 

At  ni^ht  the  Ral)hit  came,  and  found  the  monkey  in  the  d(K)rway. 
Ik-  be^jan  lo  talk  with  him.  He  said  to  him,  "Let  me  enter!  I  am 
very  hungry.  I  offer  you  lii.it  you  may  eat  mc"  Since  the  monkey 
did  not  answer,  he  struck  liim  with  one  hand,  and  stuck  fast.      He 


236  Jour?tal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

said,  "If  you  hold  this  hand,  I  have  another  one."  He  struck  him 
with  the  other  hand  also,  and  stuck  fast.  Again  he  said,  "You  are 
holding  my  hands,  but  I  tell  you  that  I  have  also  two  feet."  He  struck 
him  with  one  foot,  and  stuck  fast.  He  struck  him  with  the  other  one, 
and  stuck  fast.  Again  he  said,  "I  have  other  parts  of  my  body." 
He  struck  him  with  his  head,  and  stuck  fast.  He  struck  him  with  his 
tail,  and  stuck  fast.     He  struck  him  with  his  chest,  and  stuck  fast. 

On  the  following  morning  the  dear  old  woman  arrived,  and  found 
the  dear  Rabbit  stuck  to  the  monkey,  and  said  to  him,  "So  you  must 
be  the  one  who  eats  my  chile!"  She  took  him  home,  and  placed 
him  in  a  net  which  was  hanging  from  one  of  the  rafters  of  the  house. 

At  that  time  the  Coyote  passed  by;  and  the  Rabbit  said  to  him, 
"Good-day,  Uncle  Coyote!  Where  are  you  going?"  The  Coyote 
replied,  "Man  alive,  what  are  you  doing  here?"  —  "O  Uncle  Coyote! 
they  have  brought  me  here,  because  they  want  to  marry  me  to  the 
young  daughter  of  the  lady  of  this  house,  and  I  do  not  want  to  marry 
her.  If  you  are  willing  to  enter  into  this  marriage,  pull  me  out  of 
here,  and  you  shall  be  married."  The  Coyote  obediently  untied  the 
net  in  which  the  Rabbit  was  caught,  put  himself  inside,  and  the  Rabbit 
hung  the  net  up  again  where  it  had  been  and  went  away. 

After  a  little  while  the  dear  old  woman  entered  the  room  where  this 
had  happened,  and  saw  the  Coyote  hanging  in  the  net.  She  said  to 
him,  "You  have  turned  from  a  Rabbit  into  a  Coyote;  but,  whatever 
may  happen,  you  will  suffer  your  punishment."  She  sent  for  a  pot 
of  boiling  water  and  put  down  a  tub,  into  which  she  poured  the  hot 
water,  and  then  she  put  the  Coyote  into  it.  When  he  felt  the  heat, 
he  began  to  retreat,  until  finally  he  could  make  his  escape  and  promised 
to  pursue  the  Rabbit  and  to  eat  him. 

After  walking  some  distance  in  search  of  him  in  various  places,  he 
came  upon  him  on  a  hillside  where  a  cactus  grew  which  had  many 
prickly-pears  {tuna),  and  he  found  the  dear  Rabbit  eating  prickly- 
pears.  When  he  saw  the  Coyote,  he  said  to  him,  "Good-day,  Uncle, 
Uncle  Burnt-Backside!"  The  Coyote  said  to  him,  "Now,  indeed, 
I'll  eat  you,  because  you  have  fooled  me."  The  Rabbit  said  to  him, 
"  No,  uncle,  I  am  not  the  one  who  fooled  you.  See,  indeed,  what  good 
prickly-pears  I  am  eating!"  The  Coyote  said,  "Throw  me  down 
one!"  The  Rabbit  carefully  removed  the  spines,  and  threw  it  down 
to  him.  "How  good  they  are!"  said  the  Coyote.  "  Throw  me  another 
one!"  He  cleaned  the  second  one  also,  and  threw  it  down  to  him. 
"Man  alive,  Rabbit,  don't  get  tired  of  it!  Throw  me  down  another 
one!"  He  threw  down  another  one,  but  without  cleaning  it.  The 
greedy  Coyote  ate  the  third  prickly-pear,  and  felt  in  his  throat  the 
pains  of  the  spines.  While  he  began  to  free  himself  of  these,  the 
Rabbit  fled,  after  having  committed  this  knavery. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk- Lore  237 

The  Coyote  promised  to  pursue  the  Rabbit  until  he  would  eat  him. 
After  searching  for  him  a  long  time,  he  met  him  on  the  slope  of  a  great 
mountain.  When  he  saw  the  Coyote,  he  placed  himself  close  to  a 
rock,  and  said  to  him,  "Good-day,  Uncle,  Uncle  Burnt-Backside!"  — 
"Now,  indeed,  I'll  eat  you,  Uncle  Rabbit,"  said  the  Coyote  to  him. 
The  dear  little  Rabbit  replied,  "No,  uncle,  you  won't  eat  me.  See, 
I  am  holding  now  this  rock.  If  I  let  go  of  it,  the  world  will  come  to 
an  end,  and  I  beg  of  you  to  help  me  a  while.  I  am  very  hungry,  and 
should  like  to  go  and  take  a  lunch."  The  Coyote,  very  obediently, 
took  hold  of  the  rock,  and  the  Rabbit  made  his  escape.  After  the 
Coyote  had  been  there  quite  a  while  holding  the  rock,  he  got  tired,  and 
said,  "I'll  let  go  of  the  rock,  even  if  the  world  does  come  to  an  end. 
I  can't  stand  it  any  longer,"  and  he  let  go  of  it.  The  rock  began  to 
roll;  and  the  Coyote  looked  at  it  and  nothing  happened;  and  he  said, 
"Now  it  is  twice  that  the  Rabbit  has  fooled  me;  the  third  time  I'll 
surely  eat  him." 

He  pursued  him  again,  until  he  found  him  in  a  field  alone,  where 
he  stood  close  to  a  hive;  and  when  he  saw  the  Coyote,  he  said  to  him, 
"Good-day,  Uncle,  Uncle  Burnt-Backside!  What  are  you  doing  here?" 
The  Coyote  replied  to  him,  "I  am  looking  for  you;  and  now,  indeed, 
I'll  eat  you,  for  you  have  fooled  me  many  a  time." — "No,  uncle," 
answered  the  Rabbit,  "I  am  not  the  one  who  has  fooled  you.  That 
must  be  one  of  my  companions,  for  I  have  been  teacher  of  this  school 
for  quite  a  while.  If  you  like  to  have  a  good  salary,  I'll  give  you  this 
place."  The  Coyote  accepted;  and  when  he  asked  the  Rabbit  for 
some  instructions,  the  Rabbit  replied,  "If  these  boys  do  not  want  to 
study,  say  to  them,  'Study; '  and  if  ihcy  do  not  obey,  take  this  cane  and 
touch  the  hive  three  times." 

After  ha\ing  given  the  Coyote  this  instruction,  he  went  away. 
The  Coyote  remained  i)laying  his  role,  and  said  from  time  to  time, 
"Study,  study!"  and  the  bees  in  that  hive  did  not  obey.  Then  the 
Coyote  struck  the  hive  according  to  the  instructions  of  the  Rabbit 
until  the  bees  came  out  and  stung  him,  so  that  he  rolled  about. 

The  Coyote,  much  offended  by  tiu-  many  tricks  that  the  R  ibliit 
ii.KJ  i)layed  him,  promised  to  pursue  him  again,  until  he  should  find 
liitn  and  eat  him.  After  ha\ing  searched  for  him  in  se\cral  places,  he 
met  him  on  the  shore  of  a  lake.  When  he  saw  the  Coyote,  he  said, 
"Ciood-day,  Uncle,  Uncle  Burnt-Backside!  What  are  you  doing  here- 
abouts?" The  Coyote  refjlied  to  him,  "I  am  in  search  of  you;  and 
now,  indeed,  I  am  going  to  cat  you,  for  you  have  fooled  me  too  much, 
and  I'll  punish  you  for  your  misdeeds."  Tlu*  dear  little  Rabbit  said 
to  him,  "  No,  inule,  I  am  not  the  one  who  has  fooletl  you.  I  le  who  has 
fooled  you  must  have  been  one  of  my  com|>anions.  See!  I  have 
been  given  as  a  present  a  very  large  cheese  for  my  lunch    to-day; 


238  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

but  since  I  have  other  better  things  ready,  if  you  like  it,  I'll  give  it 
to  you."  The  Coyote,  well  satisfied,  accepted  the  present,  which, 
thereupon,  he  gave  to  him.  The  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "When  you  are 
hungry,  go  into  the  lake,  until  you  arrive  at  the  place  where  the  cheese 
is,  and  eat  it."  The  Coyote  thanked  him,  and  the  Rabbit  went 
away. 

The  moon,  which  was  full,  was  reflected  in  the  water,  and  looked 
like  a  cheese.  The  Coyote,  who  was  hungry,  went  into  the  water 
several  times,  and,  since  he  did  not  reach  the  cheese,  said  that  the 
Rabbit  had  fooled  him  again.  Indeed,  when  he  looked  up  to  the  sky, 
he  saw  the  full  moon.  Filled  with  indignation,  the  Coyote  said,  "  Now, 
indeed,  I'll  go  in  search  of  the  Rabbit,  and  I'll  eat  him." 

After  having  searched  the  longest  time,  he  came  to  the  bank  of  a 
river,  and  saw  the  Rabbit,  who  was  rocking  himself  in  a  deep  place 
by  means  of  some  lianas.  When  he  saw  the  Coyote,  he  said,  "Good- 
day,  Uncle,  Uncle  Burnt-Backside!"  and  the  Coyote  said  to  him, 
"Now,  indeed,  scoundrel,  am  I  going  to  eat  you,  for  I  have  been  fooled 
by  you  time  and  again,  and  your  misdeeds  deserve  punishment." 
The  Rabbit  said  to  him,  "Why  do  you  say  that  to  me,  Mr.  Uncle? 
I  am  not  the  one  who  has  fooled  you.  Maybe  some  of  my  companions 
have  done  it.  See,  indeed!  I  am  taking  delightfully  fresh  air  in  this 
hammock;  and  if  you  wish  to  refresh  yourself,  —  for  without  doubt 
you  are  much  heated  by  your  walk,  —  and  meanwhile  refresh 
yourself."  The  Coyote  accepted  the  proposal,  and  when  he  had 
reached  the  hammock,  the  Rabbit  climbed  up  some  rocks  from  which 
the  lianas  hung  down,  and  began  to  gnaw  at  them  until  they  broke; 
and  therewith  a  detonation  was  heard  in  the  water,  when  the  Coyote 
had  fallen  into  it.  The  Rabbit  went  his  way,  and  the  Coyote  was  in 
great  trouble  to  get  out  of  the  deep  hole.  Once  out  of  the  hole,  he 
said  he  would  pursue  the  Rabbit  until  he  should  find  and  eat  him. 

After  going  several  days  in  search  of  the  Rabbit,  he  met  him  in  a 
large  reed,  and  said  to  him,  "Now,  indeed,  I'll  eat  you,  for  you  have 
fooled  me  too  much,  Rabbit."  The  Rabbit  replied,  "No,  uncle! 
When  did  I  fool  you?  See,  it  is  true,  I  must  assist  at  a  marriage,  and 
should  like  you  to  play  the  guitar.  Look  here,  see  how  many  jars  of 
pulque  I  have!  If  you  accept,  they  shall  all  be  yours."  The  Rabbit 
gave  a  leaf  of  corn  to  the  Coyote,  for  that  was  his  guitar,  "And  when 
you  hear  the  noise  of  rockets,  play  the  guitar  more  vigorously;  then 
I'll  bring  the  bridal  couple,  and  I'll  come  at  once  and  we'll  dance  the 
fandango." 

The  dear  little  Rabbit,  when  he  left  the  reeds,  set  fire  to  the  dry 
leaves,  and  a  great  fire  started.  When  the  Coyote  heard  the  noise  of 
the  green  reeds  which  were  burning,  he  played  the  corn-leaves  more 
vigorously.     When  he  felt  that  it  was  the  fire  that  had  come  near  him. 


Notes  071  Mexican  Folk-Lore  239 

he  could  not  get  out,  however  liard  he  tried,  and  had  to  die  of  asfixi- 
ation. 

COYOTE    Y    CONEJO 

Era  una  vicjecita  que  tenia  tres  hijos,  y  tenia  una  sembradura  de  chilarro. 
Todas  las  noches  iba  un  conejo  d  hacerle  dano.  Un  dia  la  vicjecita  invent6  cual 
seria  la  manera  de  coger  el  conejito.  Despu6s  de  haber  consultado  con  varias 
personas  le  indic6  una  que  hiciera  un  monito  de  cera,  y  despu6s  de  cubrir  el 
corral,  que  contenia  los  chilarros,  dejar  un  portillito  {sic!)  y  dejar  allf  el  mone- 
cito  de  cera. 

En  la  noche  lleg6  el  conejo  y  encontr6  al  monecito  en  la  pucrta.  Comenz6 
k  conversar  con  61.  Le  dijo,  "  D6jame  entrar  que  traigo  mucha  hambre.  Te 
ofrezco  que  me  comas."  No  habiendo  contestado  el  monecito,  le  acometi6  con 
una  mano  y  se  qued6  ix?gadu.  Le  dijo,  "  Si  me  agarras  esta  mano  tengo  la  otra." 
V'olvi6  ci  [x;garle  con  la  otra  mano  y  se  qucd6  pegado.  Volvi6  a  decirle,  "Ya 
me  tienes  de  las  dos  manos,  pero  tambien  te  dir6  que  tengo  dos  pi6s."  Le 
peg6  con  un  pi6  y  se  qued6  pegado.  Le  f)eg6  con  el  otro  y  se  qued6  pegado. 
Volvi6  h.  decircle,  "  De  mi  cuerpo  tengo  otras  cosas  mds."  Le  peg6  con  la  cabeza, 
se  qued6  pegado.  Le  peg6  con  la  cola,  se  qucd6  i>egado.  Le  peg6  con  la  caja 
del  cuerpo  y  se  qued6  pegado. 

A  la  mafiana  siguiente  lleg6  la  vicjecita  y  encontr6  al  conejito  pegado  al 
mono  y  le  dijo,  "Tu  eres  el  que  te  estds  comiendo  mischilarritos."  Se  lo  llev6 
para  su  casa  y  lo  coloc6  en  una  red  colgada  en  uno  de  los  atravezanos  de  la  casa. 

En  esto  pasaba  el  coyote,  y  le  dijo  el  conejo,  "Adi6s,  tio  coyote.  <;A  d6nde 
vas?"  El  coyote  le  contest6,  "dQu^  haces  ahf,  hombre?" — "Ay,  tio  coyote, 
pues  me  han  traido  aqui  que  quieren  casarme  con  la  nina  hija  de  la  senora  de 
esta  casa,  y  yo  no  quiero.  Pues,  si  tu  quieres  contraer  dicho  enlace,  s4came  de 
aqui  y  te  casarAs."  El  coyote  obedientc  desat6  la  red  donde  estaba  el  conejo 
preso,  y  se  meti6,  y  volvi6  el  conejo  d  colgarla  donde  estaba  y  se  fu6. 

I)espu6s  de  algunos  instantes  entr6  la  viejecita  en  la  pieza  4  donde  sucedi6 
esto  y  vi6  al  coyote  que  estaba  colgado  en  la  red.  Le  dijo,  "  De  conejo  te 
volvistes  coyote,  pero  no  le  hace  como  quiera,  sufrirAs  tu  castigo."  Mand6 
traer  una  olla  de  agua  hirvicndo  y  coI(k-6  una  lina  en  donde  crh6  el  agua  calicntc 
y  meti6  al  coyote.  Este,  al  scntir  los  ardorcs,  comcnz6  d  retrasar  hasta  que  por 
tin  pudo  cscaparse  prometiendo  que  scguiria  al  conejo  hasta  com6rselo. 

I)espu6s  de  hal)er  andado  algo  busc'indolo  por  varios  puntos,  vino  k  encon- 
trario  en  una  loma  d  donde  habia  un  nopal  (|ue  tenia  inuchas  tunas  y  cncontrA- 
base  el  conejito  coniicndo  tunas.  Al  divisar  el  coyote,  le  dijo,  "Adi6s,  tio, 
tio  Culito  Quemaflo."  I-.l  coyote  le  dijo,  ".Ahora  si  te  voy  A  comer  jerque  me 
ha.s  engaftado."  El  conejo  le  dijo,  "  No,  tie,  yo  no  soy  61  que  te  he  cngartado. 
Mira,  vcrAs,  que  bucnas  tunas  me  estoy  comiendo."  El  coyote  dijo,  "j  Fxhaine 
una!"  El  conejo  Ic  (iiiit6  bien  los  agnates  y  so  la  tir6.  "Que  bucnas  est.'in," 
dijo  tio  coyote.  "iEchamc  otra!"  Volvi6  d  Hmpiar  la  sogunda  tuna  y  se  le 
tir6.  "i Hombre  conejo,  no  to  cnfadcs!  jTiramc  otra!"  Volvi6  A  tirarlc 
pero  sin  limpiarla.  El  goloso  coyote  sc  comi6  la  tcrccra  tuna  y  sinti6  en  la 
garganta  los  ardf)r»'s  del  aguatc.  Comenzando  A  (juitarHC  dc  aqucllos  el  conejo 
esrajx'j  dcspuc.H  dc  lialxT  (Dmctido  esta  pirardia. 

V\  coyote  promcti6  seguir  al  conejo  hasta  rom6rsolo.  Dcsputs  dc  halxr  lo 
buscado  mucho,  lo  vino  A  cncontrar  en  una  gran  ladera.  .Al  ver  al  coyote  sc 
VOL.  XXV.  —  NO.  96. — 16 


240  Journal  of  American  Folk -Lore 

peg6  junto  4  una  peiia  y  le  dijo,  "  Adi6s,  tio,  tio  Culito  Quemado." — "  Ahora  si 
te  voy  d  comer,  do  concjo,"  le  dijo  el  coyote.  El  conejito  le  contest6,  "No, 
tlo,  no  me  comas.  Mira,  que  ahora  estoy  teniendo  esta  pena.  Pues  si  la  suelto, 
se  acaba  el  mundo,  y  te  suplico  que  me  ayudes  un  rato.  Pues  tengo  una  hambre 
y  quiero  ir  d  almorzar."  El  coyote,  muy  obediente,  agarr6  la  pena,  y  el  conejo 
se  escap6.  Despu6s  de  un  gran  rato  de  estar  el  coyote  deteniendo  la  pena  se 
cans6  y  dijo,  "  Pues  yo  suelto  la  pena  aunque  se  acabe  el  mundo.  Pues  ya  no 
aguanto,"  y  la  solt6.  La  pena  comenz6  k  rodar,  y  el  coyote  se  qued6  mirindola 
sin  haber  pasado  nada,  y  dijo,  "Pues  que  con  esta  van  dos  que  me  engana  el 
conejo,  y  k  las  tres,  sJ  me  lo  c6mo." 

Volvi6  d  perseguirlo,  hasta  encontrarlo  en  un  campo  solo,  donde  estaba 
junto  k  un  panal,  y  al  divisar  al  coyote  le  dice,  "Adi6s,  tio,  tio  Culito  Quemado. 
iQu6  andas  haciendo?"  El  coyote  le  contest6,  "Te  ando  buscando,  porque 
ahora  si  te  voy  k  comer,  porque  ya  me  has  engafiado  muchas  veces." — "No, 
tio,"  le  contest6  el  conejo,  "no  fui  yo  quien  te  ha  engaiiado.  Seria  mi  otro 
companero,  porque  yo  ya  tengo  tiempo  de  ser  preceptor  de  esta  escuela.  Pues 
si  quieres  ganar  buen  salario,  te  dar6  este  destino."  El  coyote  acept6  y  despu6s 
de  pedirle  algunas  instrucciones  el  conejito  le  contest6,  "Cuando  no  quicran 
estudiar  estos  muchachos,  les  dir&s  'estudien,'  y  si  no  te  quieren  obedecer,  tome 
esta  varita  y  le  tocards  al  panal  tres  veces." 

Despu6s  de  haberle  dado  esta  instrucci6n  al  coyote  se  fu6.  El  coyote  se 
qued6  desempenando  su  papel  y  de  cuando  en  cuando  decia,  'estudien,  estudien;' 
y  las  abejas  de  este  panal  no  obedecian.  Entonces  el  coyote  peg6  al  panal  segi'm 
las  indicaciones  del  conejito  alborotando  las  abejas  que  le  picaron  hasta  re- 
volcarlo. 

El  coyote  ofendido  con  tantas  burlas  que  el  conejo  le  habia  hecho  prometid 
seguirlo  de  nuevo,  hasta  encontrarlo  para  comerlo.  Despu6s  de  haberlo  buscado 
en  varies  lugares  lo  encontr6  en  la  orilla  de  un  lago.  Al  ver  al  coyote  le  dijo, 
"Adi6s,  tio,  tio  Culito  Quemado.  <iQu6  andas  haciendo  por  estos  rumbos?" 
El  coyote  le  contest6,  "Ando  en  busca  tuya,  y  ahora  si  te  voy  i  comer,  pues  me 
has  engafiado  mucho,  y  te  voy  k  castigar  tus  faltas."  El  conejito  le  dijo,  "No, 
tio,  no  he  sido  yo  que  te  ha  engafiado.  El  que  te  ha  engafiado  habrd  sido  mi 
compaiiero.  Pues  mira,  me  han  regalado  este  grandisimo  queso  para  almorzarme 
hoy.  Pero  como  tengo  preparadas  otras  cosas  mks  buenas,  si  tu  quieres  com6r- 
telo,  te  lo  regalar6."  El  coyote,  muy  contento,  acept6  el  regalo  que  entonces 
le  hacia.  El  conejo  le  dijo,  "Cuando  ya  tengas  hambre,  te  sumes  en  este  lago 
hasta  llegar  k  donde  est4  el  queso  y  te  lo  comerds."  El  coyote  le  di6  gracias, 
y  el  conejo  se  fu6. 

Como  la  luna  estaba  en  su  llena,  reflejaba  en  el  agua,  figurando  un  queso.  El 
coyote,  teniendo  ya  hambre,  se  sumi6  en  el  agua  varias  veces,  y  no  alcanzando  el 
queso,  dijo,  que  ya  lo  habia  vuelto  k  engafiar  el  conejo.  En  efccto,  al  mirar 
para  el  cielo  vi6  que  la  luna  estaba  en  su  llena.  Lleno  de  indignaci6n  el  coyote 
dijo,  "Ahora  si  me  voy  k  buscar  al  concjo,  y  me  lo  c6mo." 

Despu^s  de  haber  buscado  muchisimo,  lleg6  k  la  orilla  de  un  rio,  y  vi6  al 
conejo  que  se  mecia  por  medio  de  unos  bejucos  en  una  hondura.  Al  ver  al 
coyote  dijo,  "Adi6s,  tio,  tio  Culito  Quemado;"  y  le  dice  el  coyote,  "Ahora  si, 
picaro,  te  voy  k  comer,  pues  he  sido  engafiado  por  ti  varias  veces,  y  tu  falta 
merece  castigo."     El  conejo  le  dijo,  "iPorqu^  me  dice  Vd.  eso,  tio?     No  he 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  241 

sido  yo  quien  te  ha  enganado.  Tal  vez  sean  olros  conipaneros.  Pues  niira, 
ver4s,  que  me  estoy  dando  un  aire  tan  fresco  en  esta  hamaca,  y  si  quieres  re- 
frescarte, — porque  sin  duda  vendr^s  muy  caluroso  y  mientras  refr^scate." 
El  coyote  acept6  la  propuesta,  y  habiendo  Uegado  d  la  hamaca,  el  conejo  se 
trep6  sobre  unas  penas  donde  dej)endia  el  bejuco,  y  comenz6  k  morderlo  hasta 
reventarlo,  y  con  esto  se  oy6  una  detonaci6n  dentro  del  agua  donde  cay6  el 
coyote.  El  conejo  se  ixxh  y  el  coyote  qued6  en  grandes  aflicciones  para  salir  de 
aquella  hondura.  Una  vez  salido  el  coyote  de  aquella  hondura  dijo,  que  se- 
guiria  al  conejo  hasta  encontrarlo  para  com^rselo. 

Despu6s  de  vzu"ios  diJis  de  andar  el  coyote  en  busca  del  conejo,  lo  vino  (x 
encontrar  entre  un  gran  carrizal  y  le  dice,  "Ahora  si  te  voy  k  comer,  porque  me 
has  enganado  mucho,  conejito."  El  conejo  le  contest6,  "No,  tio;  icuando  te 
he  yo  engafiado?  Mira,  de  veras,  que  tengo  que  apadrinar  un  casamiento  y 
quiero  que  tu  toques  la  guitarra.  Pues,  mira,  cuantas  ollas  de  pulque  tengo 
preparadas;  y  si  aceptas,  tuyo  sera  todo  eso."  El  conejo  le  pas6  un  totomoztle 
al  coyote,  que  ese  era  la  guitarra,  "  Y  cuando  oigas  la  tronadera  de  cohctes,  me 
tocas  la  guitarra  mas  recio,  pues  voy  d  traer  los  novios  y  luego  vengo  para 
que  sigamos  el  fandango." 

El  conejito  al  salir  del  carrizal  encendi6  las  hojas  secas  y  comenz6  un  gran 
quemaz6n.  El  coyote,  al  oir  la  tronadera  de  los  carrizos  verdes  que  estaban 
quemando,  mds  recio  le  daba  el  totomoztle.  Cuando  sinti6  era  que  la  lumbre 
habfa  llegado  junto  4  61  y  por  mds  esfuerzos  que  hizo  para  salir,  nada  puda 
lograr  y  tuvo  que  morir  asfixiado. 

HI.  TALi:s  FROM  TEHUANTEPEC 
The  following  tales  were  obtained  from  a  young  Tehuano,  Samuel 
Villalolx)  in  Tehuantepec,  who  wrote  them  out  in  the  Tehuano  dialect 
of  the  Zapotecan  language.  Since  I  had  not  sufficient  time  to  revise 
the  Za{)otecan  phonetics,  I  give  here  merely  the  English  translation, 
which  I  obtained  from  another  Tehuano,  Seiior  Anselmo  Cortez. 

I.     JUAN    TKIRE 

A  man  and  his  wife  were  living  on  their  ranch  at  the  outskirts  of  a 
village.  They  had  several  head  of  cattle  which  they  milked  excry 
day.  They  used  pari  of  the  milk  for  selling,  and  part  for  making 
cheese.  The  wife  was  pious,  almost  a  fanatic,  and  wi-iit  to  mass  every 
day  just  before  her  husl)and  finished  milking;  then  she  took  the  milk 
of  the  first  cows  along  for  s<ile,  and  fulfilled  her  religious  diitics  at  the 
same  lime. 

One  Sunday  it  hapixned  that  she  ury^ed  Iut  hu^^b and  to  go  to  mass. 
After  they  had  agreed  u|M)n  this,  he  went  to  (  hun  h,  while  she  remained 
behind  to  milk  the  cows. 

rnfortunatcly,  that  day  one  of  them  did  not  rome  to  the  corral, 
and,  as  it  was  getting  late,  the  woman  went  out  t()l(K>k  for  her  all  around 
the  corral;  but  instead  of  finding  the  cow  of  wliirh  she  was  in  search, 
she   met   a   tiger;  and    before  she  realized   what    was  happening,   the 


242  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

beast  carried  her  to  his  cave,  where  he  kept  her  locked  up  many  years. 
During  this  time  the  poor  woman  Hved  on  raw  meat,  which  the  tiger 
obtained  from  the  herd  of  her  ow^n  husband.  At  the  end  of  one  year 
the  woman  gave  birth  to  a  boy,  the  son  of  the  tiger,  who  grew  up, 
strong  and  fierce,  Hke  his  father,  but  who  had  human  form.  The 
years  passed,  and  the  boy  developed  extraordinary  strength.  There- 
fore he  opened  the  stone  door  of  the  cavern,  which  his  mother  had  not 
been  able  to  move  with  all  the  efforts  she  had  made.  The  mother, 
with  the  tenderness  that  belongs  to  all  of  them,  taught  him  to  speak,  and 
told  him  her  story  as  soon  as  she  thought  that  her  son  understood  her. 

The  boy  asked  her  one  day  if  she  wished  to  leave  her  prison,  and 
said  that  he  could  free  her  by  killing  his  own  father.  The  woman  ac- 
cepted the  proposal  of  her  son,  although  with  great  fear,  and  made  up 
her  mind  to  sufTer  the  consequences  in  case  he  should  not  succeed. 
The  beast  had  gone  out  to  bring  meat  for  his  family.  Then  the  boy, 
who  was  seven  years  old,  searched  for  a  weapon,  and  found  near  the 
cave  a  stout  and  heavy  pole,  with  which  he  prepared  himself  to  murder 
his  father.  The  boy  kept  in  hiding  outside  of  the  enormous  rock 
which  served  as  his  mother's  prison,  when  the  tiger's  terrific  and  wild 
howl  was  heard,  which  terrified  the  poor  woman  inside  the  cave  as 
never  before.  The  wild  beast  came  to  the  door,  and,  when  he  tried 
to  open  it,  he  received  a  tremendous  blow  on  the  head,  which  killed 
him  almost  immediately.  A  second  blow  ended  the  life  of  the  animal, 
who  lay  there,  extending  his  teeth  and  his  claws  for  a  little  while, 
as  though  he  wanted  to  imbed  them  in  the  flesh  of  his  enemy. 

The  boy  and  his  mother  left  the  dark  place  in  which  they  had 
passed  such  sad  days  of  their  existence,  and  travelled  to  the  ranch  of 
the  woman's  husband.  As  might  be  supposed,  the  woman  had  not 
even  a  rag  with  which  to  cover  herself.  While  they  were  walking 
through  the  woods,  she  covered  herself  with  leaves;  but  when  they 
came  near  the  hut,  she  sent  her  son  to  see  the  master,  and  to  ask  him 
for  a  garment  for  his  mother,  who  was  naked.  That  poor  man  was  no 
other  than  her  husband,  who  preserved  as  a  sacred  token  of  remem- 
brance the  dresses  of  his  beloved  wife,  whom  he  believed  to  have  been 
dead  for  many  years. 

The  woman  reached  the  home  of  her  husband,  to  whom  she  did  not 
disclose  herself  at  once.  She  only  asked  for  a  room  in  which  she 
and  her  son  might  sleep  several  days.  But  while  these  days  were 
passing,  he  became  convinced  that  she  was  his  wife.  He  questioned 
her  one  day.  "Do  you  remember  Mr.  H.?  You  say  that  you  lived 
here  a  long  time  ago?"  —  "Certainly,"  replied  she.  "He  was  a  very 
good  and  true  man."  Then  he  noticed  in  her  face  an  expression  of 
sadness  which  overshadowed  her  soul  and  tortured  her.  He  did  not 
doubt  any  longer,  and  said  to  her,    "You  must  be  my  wife  Maria, 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  243 

whom  I  have  not  forgotten  a  single  moment,  and  whom  I  love  with  all 
my  soul."  Maria  could  not  restrain  her  tears,  and  said,  "Yes,  I 
am  your  wife;  rather,  I  have  been  your  wife;  for  now,  although  I 
should  like  to  call  myself  so,  I  am  unworthy  of  loving  you.  I  have 
li\ed  with  a  tiger  that  took  me  from  your  side."  And  she  told  him  all 
the  bitterness  and  sadness  she  had  endured  in  the  dark  abode  of  that 
wild  beast. 

The  couple  lived  united,  and  loving  each  other  more  than  in  the 
first  years  after  their  marriage.  They  agreed  to  take  the  boy  to  be 
baptized;  and  they  called  him  Juan,  and  his  godfather  was  the  priest 
of  the  village.  They  sent  the  boy  to  school;  but  as  soon  as  his  fellows 
saw  him,  they  made  fun  of  him,  and  called  him  Ladi  ri  giiicha  hiiini 
(Little-Hairy-Body)  or  Juan  Tigre.  And  Juan,  who  had  in  his  veins 
the  blood  of  the  tiger,  wMth  one  stroke  of  his  fist  left  all  those  who  made 
fun  of  him  foolish  for  all  their  lives.  His  parents,  in  order  to  reform 
him,  left  him  with  his  godfather,  the  priest.  He  thought  he  could 
reform  Juan  by  frightening  him  by  means  of  the  skulls  of  the  dead, 
which,  according  to  the  beliefs  of  the  people,  haunted  the  steeple  of 
the  church.  One  day,  when  Juan  went  up  to  toll  the  bells,  he  saw 
two  skulls,  which  jumped  about  as  though  moved  by  a  mysterious 
power.  Juan  smiled,  threw  them  down  so  that  they  rolled  about,  and, 
when  he  arrived  at  home  after  calling  to  mass,  he  said  to  the  priest, 
"Godfather,  your  servant-girl  is  very  careless;  she  left  on  the  stairs 
of  the  steeple  the  two  calabashes  in  which  she  makes  atole."  The 
priest  was  surprised  at  the  courage  of  the  boy,  and  replied,  saying  that 
he  would  tell  the  girl  to  take  better  care  of  her  things. 

Then  he  sent  him  to  another  town  to  take  a  letter  to  the  priest  there, 
with  the  condition  that  he  should  sleep  alone  in  a  hut  which  stood  all 
by  itself  in  the  fields.  Juan  staid  there,  as  he  had  been  told,  continued 
his  way  on  the  following  day,  and  on  his  way  back  he  slept  there 
again.  He  had  hunger,  but  had  no  wood  to  heat  the  food  that  he  was 
carrying.  Juan  said  to  himself,  "Why  is  there  no  wood  or  straw  of 
any  kind  to  make  a  fire,  and  heat  my  supper?"  At  the  same  moment 
he  heard  a  noise  which  announced  a  falling  body.  They  were  bones 
of  skeletons,  which  Juan  used  as  fuel  to  heat  his  me.il.  Undoubtetlly 
the  ghosts  (Uis  penas)  knew  his  courage,  and  said,  "  In  the  corner  which 
looks  southward,  at  a  depth  of  half  a  yard,  you  will  find  a  pot  full  of 
gfjld  and  silver  coin,  for,  on  account  of  this  money,  we  have  been  haunting 
this  spot  for  a  long  lime." 

Juan  left  there,  and  directed  his  steps  to  his  go<lfather,  to  whom  ho 
ga\e  tin-  rt-ply  to  his  message,  an<l  explained  to  him  the  place  that  had 
been  indicated  to  him,  and  where  the  money  was.  The  priest  took 
this  wealth  away  in  small  quantities,  so  that  nolxKJy  should  know 
what  In-  was  doing. 


244  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Two  years  passed.  The  father  of  Juan  had  come  to  be  rich,  because 
he  participated  in  the  enormous  wealth  that  his  son  had  found.  He, 
however,  on  account  of  his  instincts,  had  to  look  for  adventures,  and 
make  himself  famous  by  his  deeds  throughout  the  world. 

He  left  his  home,  armed  only  with  a  goodly  iron  pole,  which  he  alone, 
on  account  of  his  extraordinary  strength,  could  manage.  He  met  a 
ghost  (duende),  a  man  who  carried  enormous  stones,  and  a  very  noted 
person  called  "Big-Finger"  {Dedo  mayor)  because  he  lifted  whatever 
he  liked  with  his  first  finger  and  without  any  efifort.  These  three 
wished  to  fight  Juan  Tigre;  but  it  was  impossible  to  vanquish  him, 
and  he  made  them  his  slaves.  They  travelled  about  several  days,  and 
came  to  a  hut  in  the  field  which  seemed  to  be  inhabited.  Notwith- 
standing appearances,  nobody  lived  there. 

The  ghost  staid  there,  and  was  to  prepare  dinner  for  his  fellows  who 
went  out  to  hunt.  Poor  ghost!  He  would  better  have  gone  with  his 
friends!  A  negro,  ugly,  exceedingly  ugly,  came  to  the  hut,  beat  him, 
threw  away  his  dinner,  and  ordered  him  to  leave  at  once,  or  else  he 
would  kill  him.  The  hunters  came  back,  and  the  ghost  explained  to 
them  what  had  happened.  Then  Juan  Tigre,  the  chief,  scolded  him 
severely,  and  ordered  that  on  the  following  day  Big-Finger  should 
stay  at  home.  To  him  and  to  Stone-Carrier  happened  the  same  as 
to  the  ghost. 

Then  Juan  Tigre  said,  "You  all  go  and  hunt,  I  shall  await  the  negro 
and  see  what  he  wants."  Poor  negro!  Better  he  had  not  come! 
Juan  beat  him  so  hard,  that  the  poor  negro  had  to  flee  precipitately, 
leaving  a  line  of  blood  on  the  road,  for  he  had  torn  off  one  of  his  ears. 
When  Juan's  companions  arrived,  he  gave  them  a  good  dinner  to  eat, 
while  they  had  not  been  able  to  provide  a  meal. 

After  dinner  they  followed  the  tracks  of  the  negro,  and  noted  that 
in  all  probability  he  had  gone  down  into  a  well.  They  brought 
halters;  and  Juan  went  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  well,  telling  his 
companions  to  pull  him  up  as  soon  as  he  should  shake  the  rope.  After 
a  few  moments  Juan  shook  the  rope,  and  his  companions  began  to 
pull  up  something  heavy.  They  were  surprised  to  see  a  beautiful 
maiden  tied  in  the  halter.  They  lowered  the  rope  again,  and  pulled  up 
another,  younger  girl.  The  same  happened  a  third  time.  Then  each 
one  of  these  bad  people  said,  "This  one  shall  be  my  wife!"  and  each 
one  took  his  future  wife  by  the  arm.  They  left  Juan  in  the  dark  well. 
When  the  chief  saw  that  the  halter  was  not  coming  down  again,  he 
threatened  the  negro  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  and  who  was  in  the 
bottom  of  the  well,  howling  on  account  of  the  loss  of  his  ear,  with 
death,  if  he  should  not  take  him  out  of  there.  The  negro  said,  "Do 
not  kill  me!  Let  me  live  here!  If  you  wish  for  anything,  bite  my  ear 
which  you  have,  and  you  will  get  your  wish."     Juan  bit  the  ear,  and, 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  245 

to  his  great  surprise,  he  saw  himself  out  of  the  well  without  knowing 
how  it  had  happened. 

By  means  of  the  ear  he  also  learned  the  whereabouts  of  his  com- 
panions, who  thought  Juan  would  die  in  the  well,  and  took  those 
beautiful  maidens  to  the  house  of  the  King,  who  said  that  he  was  their 
father,  and  that  they  had  been  carried  away  by  a  negro  whose  where- 
abouts could  not  be  discovered. 

The  King  compelled  his  daughters  to  marry  the  bad  persons  who  had 
returned  them  to  their  father.  They  protested,  saying  that  the  person 
who  had  saved  them  was  a  stout,  fierce,  and  ugly  man,  with  whom  each 
of  them  had  left  a  ring.  The  father  insisted  on  his  idea;  and  the  mis- 
erable companions  of  Juan  would  have  triumphed,  if  he  had  not  ap- 
peared on  time  at  the  castle  of  the  King  and  shown  the  rings  which  his 
daughters  had  given  him. 

The  King  ordered  the  treacherous  friends  of  Juan  to  be  shot,  and 
said  to  him,  "You  shall  be  the  master  of  my  daughters.  They  love 
you,  because  you  have  saved  them  from  the  claws  of  the  monster; 
and  as  a  prize  for  your  virtues  and  strength  you  shall  be  my  heir." 

2.   A   RASCAL 

There  was  a  Tehuano  who  one  gay  night  saw  a  light  of  the  kind  which 
they  say  produces  money,  and,  thinking  himself  unable  to  visit  the 
light  and  to  mark  the  place  where  he  had  seen  it,  he  put  off  doing  so, 
intending  to  go  with  one  of  his  friends.  On  the  following  day  he  told 
his  friend  about  what  he  had  seen.  They  went  to  the  place,  marked  it, 
and  agreed  to  meet  that  same  night  with  crowbars,  to  proceed  with  the 
excavation,  and  to  divide  what  they  were  going  to  take  out.  The 
friend  of  the  man  who  had  seen  the  light  went  that  night,  as  agreed 
upon,  but  the  other  one  did  not  go.  Therefore  the  other  one  proceeded 
alone  to  open  the  ground,  pulled  out  the  money,  and  took  it  to  his 
house  without  telling  the  man  who  had  seen  the  light.  This  one 
also  went  alone  the  following  night  with  the  idea  of  taking  away  the 
hicifit-n  monry.  What  was  his  surprise,  when  he  saw  the  hole  from 
which  his  friend  had  taken  the  money!  On  account  of  this,  and 
sure  that  nobody  else  knew  about  it,  he  looked  up  his  friend,  who  had 
already  jjut  on  new  clothes  and  a  fine  hat.  He  reproached  him,  and 
demanded  one-half  of  the  money  that  he  had  taken  out.  The  other 
one  said  that  he  did  not  know  who  had  done  it.  The  former  man  was 
much  annoyed,  and  intended  to  frighten  the  other  one  with  the 
judge,  so  that  he  should  return  the  money. 

When  he  received  the  summons,  he  went  to  a  lawyer  who  w.»s  to 
defend  him.  The  lawyer  advised  him  to  tell  him  the  truth,  so  that 
he  might  save  him.  lie  confided  the  truth,  and  said  that  he  had 
found  and  taken  two   thousand  dollars.     The  lawyer  s^iid  (hat   if  lie 


246  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

would  give  him  one-half  of  that  sum  for  the  work  that  he  would  have 
to  do,  he  would  defend  him.  He  agreed,  and  the  lawyer  instructed 
him,  saying  that  he  was  to  go  to  see  the  judge  on  the  day  and  at  the 
hour  specified  in  the  summons,  and  that  he  should  pretend  to  be  mute; 
after  he  had  greeted  the  judge  with  gestures,  he  should  deliver  the 
summons;  and  when  the  judge  should  make  known  to  him  the  claim 
against  him,  he  should  make  with  his  fingers  twice  "  pis  pis  pis,  pis  pis 
pis;  "  and  if  the  judge  should  ask  him  to  act  according  to  the  truth,  he 
should  do  the  same,  so  as  to  tire  him  out. 

He  did  so.  He  went  to  see  the  judge,  greeted  him  with  movements 
of  the  head;  and  when  he  delivered  the  summons,  he  did  everything 
the  lawyer  had  told  him.  The  judge  could  not  do  anything.  He 
got  tired,  and  sent  both  away,  calling  them  fools. 

The  lawyer,  who  had  seen  all  that  happened,  followed  the  man  to 
his  home;  and  when  he  asked  him  about  all  that  had  occurred,  he 
answered  him  the  same  way  with  "  pis  pis  pis,  pis  pis  pis."  The 
lawyer  asked  him  to  stop  his  fooling  and  to  bring  one-half  of  the  money 
agreed  upon,  but  he  did  not  obtain  anything.  He  asked  him  for  one- 
fourth  of  the  money,  but  to  no  eflfect.  When  he  saw  the  man's  evil 
intention  and  rascality,  he  was  disgusted,  and  said,  "Nobody  is  more 
to  blame  than  myself,  for  I  advised  your  mode  of  defence,"  and 
withdrew;  while  the  other  one  had  made  a  fool  of  him,  of  the  judge, 
and  of  the  one  who  had  discovered  the  money. 

IV.    NOTES  ON  THE  FOLK-LORE  OF  TEPOZTLAN 

The  following  two  fragments  of  tales  were  obtained  from  Mr.  Vera- 
zaluce,  a  native  of  Tepoztlan.  The  former  one  belongs  to  the  Rabbit 
cycle  in  Tepoztlan  as  well  as  in  the  Valley  of  Mexico.  The  opossum 
takes  the  place  of  the  rabbit,  and  the  puma  that  of  the  coyote. 

I.    PUMA  AND   OPOSSUM 

A  man  had  a  garden  in  which  he  was  raising  tunas  (prickly-pears). 
Two  animals,  the  puma  and  the  opossum,  came  to  steal  fruit;  and 
the  latter  climbed  a  tree  and  began  to  eat.  Puma  asked  him  to  throw 
down  some  fruit  to  him,  and  opossum  complied  with  his  request. 
Puma,  however,  ate  so  greedily,  that  he  swallowed  the  tunas  with  the 
spines  and  was  almost  choked.  At  that  moment  the  owner  of  the 
garden  was  coming,  and  Opossum  made  his  escape.  When  they  found 
Puma,  who  was  still  struggling  with  the  spines,  they  gave  him  a  sound 
beating. 

At  another  time  Puma  and  Opossum  came  to  a  rock.  Opossum 
said  to  Puma,  "See!  this  rock  is  moving.  See  how  it  is  cutting  through 
the  clouds!  Hold  on  to  it  while  I  go  to  get  a  meal!"  Puma  saw  the 
clouds  passing  over  the  top  of  the  rock,  and  believed  that  the  rock 
was  moving.     He  held  on  to  it  while  Opossum  ran  away.     When  he 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  247 

had  staid  away  a  long  time,  Puma  opened  his  eyes,  and  saw  that  the 
rock  was  not  moving  at  all,  but  that  clouds  were  passing  over  it.* 

2.     LION,    COYOTE,    AND    WOOD-CHOPPER 

A  wood-chopper  was  working  in  the  woods.  A  Lion  came  along 
very  hungry,  and  said  to  the  wood-chopper,  "  I  am  sorry  I  have  nothing 
to  cat;  so  there  is  no  help  for  it,  I  must  eat  you."  The  wood-chopper 
asked  to  be  spared,  but  to  no  avail.  Then  he  said  to  Lion,  "Just  let 
me  settle  my  affairs  first,  then  you  may  eat  me.  Meanwhile  put  your 
hands  here  to  hold  the  tree."  Lion  consented,  and  put  his  hands  in 
the  crack  of  the  tree.  Then  the  wood-chopper  knocked  out  the 
wedges,  and  Lion  was  caught.  After  a  while  a  man  came  past,  and 
Lion  prayed  to  be  released.  The  man  did  as  requested.  Then  Lion 
said,  "I  am  sorr>'  I  have  nothing  to  eat;  so  there  is  no  help  for  it,  I 
must  eat  you."  The  man  begged  for  mercy,  but  Lion  would  not 
listen.  Then  the  man  promised  to  bring  him  his  wife's  chickens,  and 
Lion  finally  accepted.  The  man  went  home  and  demanded  from  his 
wife  her  chickens.  First  she  remonstrated ;  but  since  the  man  insisted 
that  he  ought  to  keep  his  word,  she  finally  said  that  she  would  consent. 
She  went  and  put  her  dogs  into  a  bag,  gave  the  bag  to  her  husband, 
and  said  that  those  were  the  chickens.  The  man  went  back  to  redeem 
his  promise,  and  on  his  way  met  Coyote,  who  accompanied  him- 
When  he  came  to  Lion,  he  left  the  bag  there.  Lion  untied  it,  and  the 
dogs  jumped  out  and  chased  away  both  him  and  Coyote. 

V.    COMPARATIVE   NOTES 

The  study  of  the  Mexican  tales  recorded  in  the  present  number, 
and  of  the  New-Mexican  material  published  by  Professor  Aurelio  M. 
Espinosa  in  Vol.  XXIV  of  this  Journal,  has  led  me  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  Spanish-American  folk-lore  as  well  as  that  of  the  American 
negroes  is  derived  largely  from  Spanish  sources,  and  that  the  influence 
of  Spanish  folk-lore  upon  that  of  the  Indians  of  the  Western  plateaus 
and  plains  has  not  received  sufficient  attention,  and  must  be  taken 
into  account  in  the  analysis  of  Western  folk-lore  and  mythology. 

The  animal  tales  collected  in  Mexico  have  a  considerable  distribution 
over  the  American  Continent.  They  have  been  fully  described  from 
Brazil,  and  their  relationship  to  negro  tales  has  repeatedly  been  jiointed 
out.*  Later  on  A.  Ernst  recorded  stories  of  the  same  type  in  Venezuela, 
and  others  were  rollccted  by  Dr.  Rudolf  Lenz  in  Chili.  In  the  United 
States  we  have  matt-rial  from  the  ,'\[)ache,  Cherokee,  Yuchi,  antl  other 

'  Evitlrntly  these  arc  badly  told  versions  of  the  rcRiilar  Rabbit  cycle.  A  better 
account  of  the  second  story  haa  Inren  given  by  M.inlcn  fron>  Mexico  City  (nee  Modern 
Language  Notes,  vol.  xi  (1896).  j)p.  4.J-.0. 

'  Charles  F.  Hartt.  Amazonian  Tortoise  Myths  (Rio  de  Janeiro,  1875);  Conln  de  Magai- 
hues,  O  Salvagem  (Rio  de  Janeiro,  1876).  pp.  175-J81;  Herbert  Smith.  Brazil,  the  Amiiuins, 
and  the  Coast  (New  York,  1879);  Sylvio  Romero,  Conlos  populares  do  Brasil  (Lisbon,  i88j); 
F.  J.  de  Saiit.i-Anna  Nery,  Folk-Ixire  lirrsilirn  (Paiis,    1880). 


248  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

southeastern  tribes,  not  to  meniion  more  remotely  related  tales  from 
the  more  northerly  regions. 

I  will  ,q;ive  here  a  number  of  tales  of  the  animal  cycle,  more  particu- 
larly Rabbit  tales  recorded  in  America. 

Some  of  the  Coyote  tales  have  been  recorded  from  Mexico  City 
by  C.  C.  Marden;'  from  the  Tarahumare,  by  Lumholtz.'  The  tale  of 
the  rabbit  and  the  cockroach,  the  hen,  the  dog,  lion  and  hunter, 
occurs  in  identical  form  in  Venezuela.  Ernst  also  records  the  story  of 
the  tar  baby.' 

There  is  also  a  close  relation  to  the  Araucanian  tales  from  Chili 
recorded  by  Dr.  Rudolf  Lenz.*  The  first  part  of  the  tale  occurs  in 
similar  form  in  Chili  and  in  Venezuela.     Dr.  Lenz  tells  it  as  follows:  — 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Tiger,  and  his  nephew  the  Fox.  The  Fox 
had  a  sister.  Fox  and  Tiger  had  a  quarrel,  and  the  Tiger  set  out  to  kill  the 
Fox,  who  went  to  an  oak-tree,  in  the  shadow  of  which  he  began  to  cut  thongs 
out  of  a  hide.  The  Tiger  saw  him,  and  said,  "What  are  you  doing  there. 
Fox?"  —  "I  am  cutting  thongs.  The  whole  world  is  going  to  be  turned 
upside  down,  therefore  I  am  about  to  tie  myself  to  the  trunk  of  this  oak- 
tree:  surely  it  will  not  be  turned  upside  down."  —  "  Then  tie  me  to  the  tree 
too,"  said  the  Tiger.  "AH  right,  then  I'll  tie  you  up  first,"  said  the  Fox.  "  Put 
your  arms  around  the  trunk  of  the  tree."  The  Tiger  did  so,  and  the  Fox  tied 
him  firmly  to  the  tree.  "Don't  tie  me  so  fast,"  said  the  Tiger.  When  he 
was  tied  up  well,  the  Fox  took  a  switch  and  gave  him  a  sound  thrashing. 
"Don't  strike  me  so  hard.  Fox,"  said  the  Tiger.  "Why  did  you  want  to 
kill  me,  bad  Uncle  Tiger?"  replied  the  Fox,  and  almost  killed  him.  Then 
he  left  and  went  to  another  country.' 

The  following  part  of  the  version  from  Chili  corresponds  to  an  episode 
in  the  Mexican  cycle. 

(The  Fox's  enemy  was  in  hiding  near  the  water.)  At  noon  the  Fox  went  to 
the  water,  but  he  was  suspicious.  He  remained  some  distance  away,  and 
shouted,  "My  water  always  speaks  to  me  when  it  wants  me  to  drink. 
I  want  to  drink  of  my  water,"  said  the  Fox.  "When  I  say  so  four  times  to 
my  water,  it  replies,  'Well,  come  and  drink  me!'"  Then  he  shouted  three 
times,  "  I  want  to  drink  of  my  water,"  hut  the  water  never  replied.  "  Don't 
it  want  me  to  drink  of  it?  I  want  to  drink  of  you,  water!"  Then  the  water 
replied,  "Come  and  drink  me."  —  "Oho!"  said  the  Fox,  "water  does  not 
speak,  I  never  heard  the  like  of  it,"  and  ran  away. 

Here  the  conversation  between  the  Fox  and  the  water  is  analogous 
to  our  Pochutla  version,  and  to  the  conversation  between  the  Rabbit 
and  his  hole,  in  New  Mexico." 

»  Modern  Language  Notes,  vol.  xi  (1896),  pp.  43-46- 
'  Carl  Lumholtz,  Unknown  Mexico  (New  York.  1902),  vol.  i,  p.  306. 
»  A.  Ernst,  "  Tio  Tigre  und  Tio  Conejo,"   Verhandlungen  der  Berliner  Gesellschaft  fUr 
Anthropologic,  Ethnologie  und  Urgeschichte,  1888.  vol.  xx,  pp.  275,  277. 

•  Araukanische  MUrchen  (Valparai.so,  1896),  p.  41. 

•  Compare  the  same  story  from  Venezuela  in  A.  Ernst,  /.  c,  p.  275. 

•  See  Aurelio  M.  Espinosa,  "New-Mexican  Spanish  Folk-Lore."  in  this  Journal, 
vol.  xxiv  (1911).  p.  422. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  249 

In  North  America  we  have,  beside  the  interesting  collection  pub- 
lished by  Professor  Espinosa,  just  referred  to,  a  few  of  the  tales  in 
the  Fox  and  Rabbit  cycle  of  the  Jicarilla  Apache.*  The  incidents  are 
somewhat  different;  but  the  incident  of  Rabbit  teaching  school,  and 
that  of  the  tar  baby,  occur  in  identical  form.  Here  we  have  also  a 
version  of  the  race  between  Frog  and  Antelope.*  The  story  of  the 
race  between  the  Rabbit  and  the  Tortoise  or  some  other  animal,  in 
which  the  slower  animal  wins  by  placing  others  of  his  family  along  the 
race-track,  is  quite  widcl  y  distributed  among  other  North  American 
tribes.  Lumholtz  has  it  from  the  Tarahumare  (Frog  and  Coyote); 
Gushing,  from  the  Zuiii  (Gopher  and  the  Runners  of  K'iakime).*  Dr. 
George  A.  Dorsey  has  recorded  it  from  the  Gaddo  as  a  race  between 
Coyote  and  Turtle.*  From  the  Cherokee  it  is  known  through  the  col- 
lection of  James  Mooney,*who  records  the  version  "How  the  Terrapin 
beat  the  Rabbit."  Dr.  George  A.  Dorsey  also  mentions  it  from  the 
Arikara.*  Dr.  Speck  also  mentions  a  version  from  the  Algonquin  of 
the  Western  Great  Lakes,  recorded  by  E.  R.  Young.^  We  find  it  in 
British  Columbia  among  the  Thompson  Indians.' 

The  tar-baby  story  shows  a  similar  distribution.  It  occurs  in  North 
America,  in  a  form  identical  with  the  Mexican  and  American  negro  story, 
among  the  Biloxi,*  Vuchi,'°and  Cherokee."  Modified  forms,  in  which, 
however,  the  principal  incidents  may  still  be  recognized,  are  found  in 
California  among  theYana"and  Shasta,"  inOregon  among  theTakclma." 

Turning  to  the  American  negro  tales,   the  analogies  are  obvious. 

'  Frank  Russfll.  "Myths  of  the  Jicarilla  Apaches,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore, 
vol.  xi  (1898).  pp.  267-268. 

•  Pliny  Earle  Goddard,  "Jicarilla  Apache  Texts,"  Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  vol.  viii  (191 1),  p.  237. 

•  Frank  liamilton  Cu.shinjj.  Zufii  Folk-Tales  (New  York,  1901).  p.  377. 

•  Traditions  of  the  Caddo  (Carnegie  Institution,  1905),  p.  104. 

'  Jaiin'H  McKjncy,  "Myths  of  the  Cherokee,"  ivih  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of 
American  Ethnology,  pp.  271-273. 

•  Traditions  of  the  Arikara  (Carnegie  Institution),  p.  143. 
'  Alionquin  Indian  Tales,  p.  246. 

•James  Tcit.  "Mythology  of  the  Thompson  Indians,"  PublicatioHS  of  the  Jesup  North 
Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  viii.  p.  395. 

•  J.  Owen  Dor»cy,  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lor*,  vol.  vi  (1893),  p.  48. 

'•  Frank  Ci.  Speck.  "Kthnology  of  the  Yuchi  Indians."  University  of  Pennsylvania. 
Anthropohgical  Publications  of  Iht  University  Museum,  vol.  I  (Philadelphia.  1909). 
PP     1 52- >  53- 

"  "Myths  of  the  Cherokee."  lolh  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  FUhnology.  pp. 
270,  450.  Perhnpti  also  Yuchi  (see  Frank  G.  Sixxk.  "Ethni)loKy  of  the  Yuchi  Indians," 
University  of  Pennsylvania,  Anthrop.  Pulil.  of  the  University  Muieum.  vol.  1.  p.  141). 

'•  Edward  Sapir,  "  Yana  Texts,"  University  of  California  Publications  in  Amtriean 
ArchaoloKy  and  Ethnology,  vol.  ix  (1910),  p.  227.      Collected  by  Kiilund  B.  Dixon. 

"  Roland  B.  Dixon.  "Sh;wita  Myths."  Journal  of  American  Folk-ljore.  vol.  xxiii,  p.  34. 

'*  Edward  Sapir,  "Takelma  Texts,"  Anthropological  Publications,  f University  of  Penn- 
sylvania, vol.  ii,  p.  87. 


250  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

The  tar-baby  story  has  been  recorded  from  the  negroes  of  many  parts 
of  America.^  The  North  American  negro  version  generally  ends  with 
the  episode  of  the  escape  of  the  Rabbit,  who  is  thrown  into  the  brier- 
bushes  or  into  the  grass  because  he  pretends  that  this  will  kill  him; 
but  the  characteristic  exchange  of  places  is  also  known,  some  other 
animal  being  enticed  to  creep  into  the  bag  or  trap  in  which  the  Rabbit 
has  been  caught.^  In  the  Bahama  version,  Rabbit  maintains,  as  in 
Pochutla,  that  he  is  to  marry  the  Queen's  daughter.  The  answering 
house'  and  the  taking  of  the  moon  out  of  the  pond^  are  familiar 
episodes  in  the  American  negro  cycle.  Holding  up  the  rock  has  its 
analogue  in  Grinny-Granny  Wolf,*  and  the  good  deed  repaid  by  an 
evil  one  in  the  escape  of  Rabbit  from  Wolf.^  The  Bear  tied  to  the 
tree^  is  a  parallel  to  the  Chili  and  Venezuela  stories  mentioned  before, 
and  the  swing  across  the  brook  ^  may  correspond  to  the  swing  in  the 
Pochutla  version. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  our  problem  is  to  determine  the  relation 
of  the  Indian  and  American  Rabbit  tales  to  African  and  European 
folk-lore. 

It  seems  to  me  particularly  important  that  wherever  the  Rabbit 
tales  appear  fully  developed,  European  folk-lore  material  is  also  of 
frequent  occurrence.  This  is  certainly  true  in  South  America,  Mexico, 
New  Mexico,  and  Arizona,  where  not  only  tales  of  European  origin  are 
common,  but  where  also  riddles,  songs,  and  music  are  all  of  European 
origin.  In  negro  folk-lore  the  animal  tale  apparently  preponderates, 
probably  because  the  Uncle  Remus  books  have  given  particular 
prominence  to  this  class  of  tales.  The  collections  of  Professor  Fortier 
from  Louisiana,  of  Professor  Charles  L.  Edwards  from  the  Bahama 
Islands,  and  of  Charles  C.  Jones  from  Georgia,  show  clearly,  however, 
that  a  large  number  of  European  fairy-tales  are  also  present  in  the 
lore  of  the  American  negroes.  The  general  impression  given  is, 
therefore,  that  the  Rabbit  cycle  and  other  European  folk-lore  of  a 
certain  type  belong  historically  together. 

'  See,  for  instance,  Alcee  Fortier,  "Louisiana  Folk-Tales,"  Memoirs  of  the  American 
Folk-Lore  Society,  vol.  ii  (1895),  p.  105;  Charles  L.  Edwards,  "  Bahama  Songs  and  Stories," 
Ibid.,  vol.  iii  (1895),  p.  73;  Charles  C.  Jones,  Negro  Myths  (Boston,  1888),  p.  7  (coast  of 
Georgia);  Joel  Chandler  Harris,  Uncle  Remus,  His  Songs  and  Sayings  (New  York,  1881), 
pp.  23,  29;  from  Indian  tribes  in  identical  form,  see  notes  9-11,  p.  249. 

*  Joel  Chandler  Harris,  Nights  with  Uncle  Remus  (Boston,  1889),  pp.  187-188;  Charles 
L.  Edwards,  /.  c,  p.  63. 

*  Bahama  Islands,  Edwards,  I.  c,  p.  142;  see  also  before,  version  from  Chili. 

*  Harris,  Nights  with  Uncle  Remus,  pp.  106-108. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  326. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  284  et  seq.;  see  also  African  version  in  Heli  Chatelain,  "Folk-Tales  of 
Angola,"  Memoirs  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society,  vol.  i  (1894),  P-  IS7- 

'  Harris,  Uncle  Remus  and  his  Friends,  p.  22. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  103. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  251 

It  can  be  shown  that  many  of  the  talcs  current  in  South  America, 
Mexico,  and  in  western  North  America  have  their  prototypes  in 
Spain  and  Portugal,  although  they  occur  also  in  other  parts  of  Europe. 
A  few  European  parallels  of  American  tales  recorded  by  Professor 
Espinosa,  and  of  those  contained  in  the  present  number  of  the  Journal, 
may  be  pointed  out  here. 

Professor  Espinosa's  tale,  "  'L  Adivinador"  (p.  415),  is  almost 
identical  with  S.  Lie.  Francisco  Belmar's  "Juan  Ceniza,"  ^  and  belongs 
to  the  cycle  of  the  German  "Doktor  All wissend,"  which  is  also  found 
among  the  American  negroes.^ 

"Juan  Tigre,"  from  Tehuantepec,  is  a  version  of  Professor  Espinosa's 
"Juan  sin  Miedo"  (p.  428)  and  "Juan  del  Oso"  (p.  437),  for  which  he 
gives  the  parallels  recorded  by  E.  Cosquin  in  Romania,  vol.  v,  pp.  83-87, 
and  vol.  x,  pp.  561-563.  Quite  similar  to  this  is  the  Chontal  "Catorze 
Fuerzas"  recorded  by  S.  Francisco  Belmar.^  Professor  Lenz  has 
recorded  a  version  from  Chili.'' 

Other  North  American  versions  will  be  discussed  later  on  (p.  254). 

The  Tehuantepec  story  "A  Rascal"  is  a  version  of  "Maistre  Pierre 
Pathelin."  » 

"Los  Muertos,"  from  Pochutla,  has  been  recorded  in  a  ver>^  similar 
form  in  Spain  by  L.  Giner  Arivau,  under  the  title  "La  Procesion  de 
Almas  en  Pena."^ 

One  of  the  most  interesting  tales  from  Pochutla  is  the  one  entitled 
"  Dios."  It  is  clearly  of  European  origin,^  but  the  end  may  be  in  part 
a  description  of  the  Mexican  journey  to  the  lower  world,*  in  which 
the  soul  has  to  pass  between  two  mountains  that  strike  each  other, 
past  a  serpent  guarding  the  trail,  past  the  green  lizard,  eight  deserts, 
eight  hills,  the  wind  of  the  kni\es,  and  a  river  which  has  to  be  crossed 
on  the  backs  of  the  dogs  of  the  dead. 

In  a  Tagalog  tale,^  however,  occurs  the  following  passage,  which  is 
almost  identical  with  the  Pochutla  version. 

»  Esludio  de  El  Chontal  (CJaxaca,  1900),  pp.  58  et  seq. 

*  Compare  "Ein  Vit-  Tombi  MaUn,"  AlcOe  Fortier,  Louisiana Folk-TaUs,  p.  116;  Charles 
C.  Jones.  Negro  Myths,  p.  68;  and  p.  284  of  this  number. 

•  L.  c,  pp.  50  et  seq.  Compare  the  Portuguese  "O  homen  da  espada  de  vinte  quintaes," 
in  F.  Adolpho  Coelho,  Cantos  Populates  Portuguezes  (Lisbon,  1879),  p.  51. 

*  "Esludios  Araucanoa."  vii.  pp.  261  et  seq.,  in  Anales  de  la  Universidad  de  Chile, 
vol.  xciv. 

'  Thomas  Edward  Oliver,  ".Some  Analogues  of  Maistre  Pierre  Pathelin."  Journal  of 
American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xxii  (1909),  pp.  395  et  seq. 

•  "Folk- Lore   de    Proaza,"  in  Biblioteca  de  las  Iradiciones  populares,  vol.  viii.  p.  iig, 
'  Compare  "Tapalapautau"  in  E.  Cosquin,  "Contea  populaires  Lorrains,"  Romania 

vol.  V,  pp.  333-336,  al.so  vol.  vii,  p.  571,  and  vol.  ix,  p.  381;  "The  Adventures  of  Juan,'- 
in  Fletcher  Gardner,  "Tagalf)g  Folk-Tales"  (Philippine  \'i\aniis).  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  vol.  xx  (1907),  p.  106. 

'  Bernardino  de  Sahagun,  Ilistoria  general  de  las  cosas  dt  Nueva  Espafla  (Mexico. 
1829),  vol.  i,  p.  262. 


252  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

(The  child  and  Jesus)  journeyed  on;  and  on  one  side  were  bush  pastures 
filled  with  poor  cattle;  while  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  were  pastures 
dry  and  bare,  where  the  cattle  were  very  fat.  The  child  inquired  the 
meaning  of  the  mystery.  The  Lord  answered  him,  "Hush,  child!  These 
lean  cattle  in  the  rich  pastures  are  the  souls  of  sinners,  while  those  fat  cattle 
on  dry  and  sunburnt  ground  are  the  souls  of  sinless  ones." 

After  a  while  they  crossed  a  river,  one  part  of  which  was  ruby-red,  and 
the  other  spotless  white.  "Friend,  what  is  this?"  asked  the  boy.  "Hush, 
child!  the  red  is  the  blood  of  your  mother,  whose  life  was  given  for  yours; 
and  the  white  is  the  milk  which  she  desired  to  give  you,  her  child." 

This  suggests  a  partially  Spanish  origin  of  the  journey  to  the  dead, 
"Los  carboneros"  is  an  imperfect  account  of  the  well-known  Old- 
World  tale  of  the  robber's  cave,  also  common  in  Spanish  folk-lore. 

The  accumulative  story  of  the  "  Zancudo  "  is  also  quite  interesting. 
Dr.  Lenz  *  tells  a  variant  of  this  tale,  an  abstract  of  which  follows. 

The  Frost  was  asked,  "Why  did  you  kill  the  Chitchihuen  (a  parrot)?"  — 
"Why  should  I  not  do  so,  for  the  sun  melts  me?" —  "Why  do  you  melt  the 
frost.  Sun?" —  "Why  should  I  not  do  so,  for  the  cloud  covers  me?"  The 
tale  continues,  "for  the  wind  drives  me,  for  the  adobe  hut  of  the  white  man 
obstructs  me,  for  the  rat  makes  holes  in  me,  for  the  cat  eats  me,  for  the  dog 
worries  me,  for  the  stick  beats  me,  for  the  fire  burns  me,  for  the  water  ex- 
tinguishes me,  for  the  cattle  drinks  me,  for  the  knife  kills  me,  for  the  smith 
makes  me,  for  the  Lord  makes  me." 

In  "La  averiguaci6n  de  la  tenca,"  recorded  by  Lenz,^  the  thrush 
steals  a  grain  of  wheat  from  an  old  woman,  who  wishes  that  the  frost 
shall  break  his  leg;  and  the  order  is,  frost,  sun,  cloud,  wind,  wall, 
mouse,  cat,  dog,  stick,  fire,  water,  ox,  man,  God, 

The  same  elements  are  combined  in  a  different  order  in  a  version 
published  by  Dr.  Robert  Lehmann-Nitsche.' 

There  were  a  dog  and  a  rat.  The  rat  was  asked,  "Why  do  you  gnaw 
through  the  house  of  the  Christian  (i.  e.,  through  the  adobe  house)?"  — 
"  Because  the  cat  kills  me."  The  tale  continues  with  stick,  fire,  water,  ox, 
knife.  Then  follows,  "  Because  the  stone  whets  me,  because  the  sun  heats 
me,  because  the  cloud  covers  me,  because  the  wind  drives  me,  because  the 
rain  falls,  because  God  ordains  it." 

The  European  origin  of  this  particular  version  is  proved  by  the 
Portuguese  story  "A  formiga  e  a  neve."  ^     Here  the  sequence  is  ant, 

'  Araukanische  Mdrchen  (Valparaiso,  1896),  p.  44. 

'  In  W.  Victor,  Phonelische  Sludien,  vol.  vi  (1893),  pp.  295  et  seq.,  reprinted  in  "Es- 
tudios  Araucanos,"  vi,  Anales  de  la  Universidad  de  Chile,  vol.  xciv,  p.  200,  where  the 
Araucanian  oriijinal  is  also  given. 

'  "Europaische  Marchen  unter  den  argentinischen  Araukanern,"  Intcrnalionalcr 
Amerikanislen  Kongress.  XIV  (Stuttgart,  1904).  P-  688. 

*  F.  Adolpho  Coelho,  Conlos  populates  (Lisbon,  1879),  pp.  5-7.  See  also  "A  Roman- 
zeira  do  Macaco,"  Ibid.,  pp.  9-10,  and  Preface,  p.  vii. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  253 

snow,  sun,  wall,  mouse,  cat,  dog,  stick,  fire,  water,  ox,  butcher, 
death.  The  reference  to  God  is  missing.  A  similar  order  occurs  in 
the  Panchatantra.'  It  is  sun,  cloud,  wind,  mountain,  mouse.  Further 
parallels  have  been  discussed  by  E.  Cosquin  and  \V.  \V.  Newell.- 

For  a  clear  understanding  of  the  origin  of  these  European  tales,  it 
seems  of  interest  to  consider  the  folk-lore  of  other  parts  of  the  world 
that  have  come  under  strong  Spanish  influence.  I  ha\e  examined 
from  this  point  of  view  some  folk-lore  of  the  Philippine  Islands;  and 
it  seems  to  my  mind  most  important  that  many  of  the  elements  which 
are  so  characteristic  of  the  folk-lore  of  Central  and  South  America 
occur  there  also  in  the  same  form.  Incidentally  one  Philippine  tale 
which  has  its  parallel  in  Pochutla  has  been  mentioned  (p.  251).  The 
tar-baby  story  has  been  collected  among  the  Visayan,  who  have  also 
the  tale  of  the  race  between  Snail  and  Deer,'  and  the  story  of  the  ex- 
change of  a  person  imprisoned  in  a  cage  who  tells  his  dupe  that  he  is 
to  marry  the  king's  daughter  and  does  not  want  to  do  so.*  We  have 
also  the  stor>' of  the  escape  of  the  turtle  from  the  monkey,  collected 
among  the  Tagalog  and  Visayans,  the  turtle  asking  to  be  thrown  into 
the  water  and  not  to  be  burned  or  ground  to  piec  es.* 

I  think  these  data  are  sufficient  to  justify  the  theory  that  these 
common  elements  of  Philippine  and  American  folk-lore  must  have  been 
derived  from  the  same  sources,  probably  Spanish.' 

In  an  interesting  examination  of  the  American  negro  tales,  Professor 
A.  Gerber  has  reached  the  conclusion  that  the  tales  are  essentially  of 
African  origin.^  I  believe  his  point  is  well  taken,  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  that  a  great  many  of  the  incidents  of  the  American 
negro  tales  occur  also  in  many  parts  of  Africa.  Nevertheless  an  ex- 
amination of  the  whole  group  of  American  tales  shows  a  peculiar  dif- 
ference in  style,  when  compared  to  the  genuine  Central  African 
tales,  that  docs  not  seem  to  me  wholly  explained  by  the  different  mode 
of  life  of  the  American  negroes.  The  African  elements  in  the  American 
negro  stories  seem  to  belong  almost  entirely  to  the  animal  stories. 

When  considering  the  origin  of  the  animal  tales  in  Anurica,  we  must 

'  Thfodor  Benfey,  Panlschatantra  (LcipziR.  1859).  pp.  264-266. 

'  "Tht  I'askHovcr  SoriK  of  Ihc  Kid."  Journal  of  American  Folk-Ixire,  vol.  xviii  (1905), 
pp.  44-45.  It  seems  to  me  quite  pojwible  that  tJie  readinesH  witli  wliicli  tlu-  Zufti  Indians 
adopted  C'ushinK's  accumulative  talc,  is  due  to  the  presence  of  this  or  a  .sin>ilar  talc  among 
them.     Sec  CushinK.  ZuHi  Folk-Tales,  p.  411. 

•  W.  H.  MillinKton  and  Burton  L.  Maxficld,  "Visayan  Kolk-Tales,"  Journal  of 
American  Fnlk-ljore,  vol.  xx  (1907),  pp.  31 1,  315. 

<  W.  H.  MillinKton  and  Burton  L.  Maxfield,  "  Pusong  and  Tubloc-Laui."  Ibid.,  p.  108, 

•  Clara  Kern  Hayliss.  "Philippine  F''<>lli-Tales,"  Ibid.,  vol.  xjti  (1908),  p.  47;  Millington 
and  Maxfield,  "Vi.nayan  Folk-Talcs."  Ibid.,  vol.  xx  (1907),  p.  ji6. 

•  It  is  not  likely  that  the  Spanish  trade  between  Mexic«>  and  the  Philippines  brought 
about  any  considerable  im|x>rtation  of  Mexican  elements. 

'  "tJnclc  Remus  traced  to  the  Old  World."  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  vl 
(189.0.  PP-  245  tt  seq. 


254  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

bear  in  mind  that  many  of  the  negro  tribes  that  have  contributed  to 
our  slave  population  had  for  about  four  hundred  years  been  under 
Portuguese  influence.  How  deeply  Portuguese  elements  have  entered 
into  the  folk-tales  of  the  coast  tribes  of  Africa  may  be  seen,  for  instance, 
from  the  collection  published  by  Heli  Chatelain.^  This  late  influence 
does  not  seem,  however,  sufhcient  to  explain  the  fundamental  simi- 
larity of  African,  Asiatic,  and  European  animal  tales.  I  have  re- 
peatedly pointed  out  that  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  African, 
European,  and  Asiatic  fable  (excepting  that  of  the  extreme  north), 
as  compared  to  the  American  fable,  is  the  frequent  occurrence  of  the 
moralizing  form,  which  is  prominent  in  African  tales,  and  has  come  to 
be  the  most  marked  characteristic  of  the  literary  form  of  the  fable. 
Only  in  the  animal  epic  the  purely  anecdotal  tales  survive  in  great 
numbers.  In  aboriginal  America,  on  the  other  hand,  the  moralizing 
element  is  practically  absent,  and  the  animal  tale  is  essentially  anec- 
dotal or  etiological,  —  a  type  which  is  not  by  any  means  absent  in  Africa, 
but  is  always  accompanied  by  the  moralizing  fable.  On  account 
of  the  similarity  of  both  contents  and  form,  we  must  assume  an  old 
genetic  relationship  between  the  folk-lore  materials  of  Asia,  Europe, 
and  Africa.  It  seems  likely,  however,  that  on  the  coasts  of  Africa, 
as  well  as  in  the  Sudan,  recent  additions  to  the  older  lore  may  have  been 
made,  that  take  their  origin  in  Mediterranean  sources,  and  were  carried 
to  South  Africa  after  the  Portuguese  conquest.  Thus  it  does  not 
seem  to  me  improbable  that  those  particular  elements  of  the  Rabbit 
talcs  which  are  common  to  large  parts  of  South  America  and  of  Central 
America,  reaching  at  least  as  far  north  as  New  Mexico  and  Arizona, 
and  differing  in  their  composition  from  the  Central  African  tales,  are 
essentially  of  European  origin. 

It  is  also  important  to  trace  the  influence  of  these  elements  upon  the 
folk-lore  of  the  North-American  Indians.  It  seems  to  me  that  very 
strong  arguments  can  be  adduced  in  favor  of  the  theory  that  much  of 
the  peculiar  folk-lore  of  the  Western  plateaus  and  certain  cultural  ele- 
ments in  California  are  due  to  Spanish  sources. 

The  most  convincing  story  is  that  of  "John  the  Bear,"  which  has 
been  discussed  before,  and  which  has  a  most  remarkable  distribution 
among  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  West.  Robert  H.  Lowie  gives  a  version 
collected  among  the  Shoshone  of  Lemhi  Agency,  Idaho,  which  is 
clearly  the  same  as  the  French  and  Spanish  "John  the  Bear."  ^  Even 
the  event  of  his  going  to  school  occurs  here. 

The  story  begins  with  the  killing  of  the  hear  by  the  boy.  In  school  the 
children  make  fun  of  his  long  nose,  and  he  kills  them  with  a  heavy  iron  rod. 

*  "Folk-Tales  of  Angola,"  Memoirs  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society,  vol.  i  (Boston. 

1894). 

'  "The  Northern  Shoshone,"  Anthropological  Papers  of  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History,  vol.  ii,  p.  298. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  255 

Then  he  meets  Earth-Transposer,  Rock-Mover,  Pine-Transplanter.  When 
one  of  these  cooks  the  meal,  Iron-Head-Man  takes  the  food.  The  Bear's 
son  cuts  off  the  head  of  this  monster,  and  the  head  jumps  into  a  hole.  The 
men  are  let  down  one  after  another  by  means  of  a  rope  which  has  a  bell 
attached  to  it,  but  all  are  scared,  and  signal,  by  ringing  the  bell,  to  be 
pulled  up  again,  except  the  Bear's  son,  who  down  below  kills  three  men 
and  takes  their  wives,  whom  his  companions  pull  up.  The  companions 
run  away  with  the  wives,  and  Bear's  son  pursues  them  on  an  eagle's  back, 
feeding  the  bird  with  three  sheep  and  his  own  flesh,  without,  however, 
reaching  them. 

An  Assiniboine  story,  "The  Underground  Journey,"  belongs  here.* 

A  woman  abducted  by  a  bear  gives  birth  to  a  boy.  The  den  is  closed  by 
a  heavy  stone,  which  the  boy,  Plenty-of-Hair,*  removes.  Mother  and  son 
escape  to  the  camp  of  the  Indians.  The  boy  quarrels  with  other  boys,  and 
kills  several  of  them.  He  sets  out  to  travel,  and  makes  friends  with  Wood- 
Twister  and  Timber-Hauler.  They  live  together,  and  one  of  the  three 
stays  at  home,  while  the  others  go  hunting.  When  Wood-Twister  and 
Timber-Hauler  stay  at  home,  they  are  killed  by  an  ogre,  but  revived  by 
Plenty-of-Hair,  who  on  the  third  day  kills  the  ogre.  The  three  men  con- 
tinue their  travels.  A  chief  offers  his  three  daughters  to  any  one  who 
will  rescue  them  from  an  underground  place  where  they  are  held  captive. 
Plenty-of-Hair  descends  in  a  box  lowered  by  his  friends,  kills  animal  and 
cannibal  guardians  of  the  girls,  and  receives  tokens  from  them.  They  are 
hoisted  up  by  his  companions;  but  when  he  himself  is  to  be  raised,  they 
cut  the  rope.  He  is  rescued  on  an  eagle's  back,  feeds  the  bird  with  moose 
and  with  his  own  flesh,  and  arrives  when  his  four  friends  are  about  to 
marry  the  girls.     He  proves  his  identity  by  the  tokens. 

Dr.  Lowie  also  records  two  other  fragmentary  versions  from  the 
Assiniboine   (pp.    149,   191),   and   mentions  a   European  analogue.' 

Quite  clear  is  also  the  relationship  between  the  Snanaz  stories  of 
the  Thompson  Indians  and  Shuswap  and  the  tale  in  question.  The 
closest  parallel  is  the  version  obtained  l)y  Mr.  James  Teit  from  the 
lower  part  of  the  canyon  of  Fraser  River  in  British  Columbia.* 

Grisly-Bear  takes  a  pregnant  woman  to  his  house,  the  doors  of  which 
open  only  at  the  command  of  the  Bear.  The  woman  bears  a  boy,  who  learns 
the  secret  of  opening  the  doors,  and  escapes  with  his  mother.  \\c  finds 
his  father  an  old  man,  and  goes  with  him  to  look  for  work.  He  is  told  to 
clear  a  field,  which  he  does  with  an  immense  axe  made  for  the  purpose. 
Then  he  sets  out  alone,  and  meets  several  men  who  are  half-bears,  and  who 
join  him.  They  arc  employed  together,  and  one  of  them  stays  at  home  to 
cook  for  the  others.  An  old  gray-bearded  man  beats  the  cook  until  at  last 
the  boy  himself  nearly  kills  the  man.     They  follow  his  tracks,  and  lincl  in 

•  Rolx-rt  H.  Lowic.  "The  Aiuiinibolne."  Anthropolo^icul  Papm  of  the  Amrrican  \tu\rum 
of  Natural  Hiilory.  vol.  Iv  (iQog),  pp.  147  */  neq.,  246. 

•  Note  the  iflcntity  of  thl"!  namr  aiuJ  of  I,iiilr-Ilairy-H<><ly  in  TchiianlrjMx-. 

•  J.  G.  von  Hahn.  Griechitche  und  alhanesiiche  Mtirchen  (LcipziK.   1H64).  vol.  ii,  p.  49. 

•  "MytholoRy  of  the  Thompson  Indiana."  Publications  of  the  Jfui(>  \orlH  Pacific 
Expedition  (Lcydcn,  1912).  vol.  vili.  pp.  3<j3  ft  seq. 

VOL.    XXV.  —  NO.  96. —  17 


256  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

his  house  three  boxes, — one  filled   with  gold,  one  with  silver,   one  with 
bank-notes,  which  he  distributes  among  his  friends. 

The  Snanaz  story  of  the  Shuswap  is  a  curious  combination  of 
the  snaring  of  the  wind  (the  parallel  of  the  snaring  of  the  sun  of  the 
Plains)  and  of  the  end  of  the  story  of  "John  the  Bear."  Here*  the 
story  opens  with  the  snaring  of  the  wind  and  proofs  of  the  magical 
powers  of  Snanaz.     Then  follows  the  European  tale. 

The  youngest  of  four  brothers  is  ugly  and  stupid.  When  the  people  are  in 
trouble,  he  snares  the  wind,  catches  swans  by  means  of  magic,  and  obtains  fish 
after  all  others  have  failed.  A  thief  steals  his  father's  potatoes.  The  elder 
brothers  watch,  but  fall  asleep.  The  youngest  one  leans  against  a  loose  pole, 
so  that  when  he  falls  asleep,  the  pole  topples  over.  He  detects  the  winged 
black  thief,  whom  he  hits  with  a  bullet.  The  thief  escapes  into  a  deep  chasm, 
into  which  Snanaz  is  lowered  by  his  brothers.  He  tugs  at  the  rope,  is  pulled 
up,  and  tells  them  that  the  hole  is  very  dangerous.  In  a  lodge  down  below 
he  finds  the  thief,  who  directs  him  to  the  chief,  who  has  two  nieces.  In 
return  for  services  to  the  chief  he  receives  the  two  girls  and  a  box.  When 
he  arrives  at  the  hole,  he  puts  the  girls  into  the  box,  and  they  are  hauled  up. 
Finally  he  himself  climbs  into  the  box,  is  hauled  up,  but  his  brothers  cut  the 
rope  and  take  the  girls  to  be  their  wives.  The  chief  below  gives  Snanaz 
a  drawing  on  birch-bark,  which  is  transformed  into  a  horse,  on  which  he 
rides  out  of  the  hole  along  a  knife-edge.  Then  the  chief  makes  him  ride 
through  a  small  ring  with  a  needle  in  the  centre.  Finally  he  shows  these 
feats,  and  is  recognized  by  the  girls  as  their  husband. 

Related  to  this  cycle  is  also  the  Shuswap  story  of  the  gambler's 
son  and  Redcap.^ 

Redcap  gambles,  and  wins  all  of  his  opponent's  property.  Finally  Redcap 
loses  his  freedom,  but  disappears  underground  with  all  his  gains.  The  boy 
searches  for  him,  and  is  directed  by  various  persons  until  he  reaches  Old-Man 
Eagle,  who  carries  him  up.  In  order  to  keep  up  Eagle's  strength,  he  feeds  him 
from  four  deer-hoofs.  Finally  he  reaches  the  chief's  house,  in  the  middle  of  a 
large  lake.  He  takes  the  garters  of  the  bathing  daughters  of  the  chief,  and  is 
then  subjected  to  tests  by  the  old  chief. 

A  little  closer  is  the  relation  of  the  story  of  Alamer'  to  the  cycle 
of  "John  the  Bear." 

A  father  orders  his  stupid  son  to  be  killed;  but  the  father's  servants  take  pity 
on  him,  and  bring  him  a  wolf's  heart  instead  of  that  of  the  boy.  The  boy  frees 
a  girl  (Andromeda  type).  He  visits  another  chief,  whose  nieces  are  stolen  by  a 
red-haired  chief  beyond  a  lake.  The  boy  goes  there,  speaks  to  the  girls  secredy, 
and  takes  them  away  in  a  self-moving  canoe.  He  meets  other  people  in  a  canoe. 
The  girls  become  suspicious,  and  give  the  boy  tokens.  The  people  throw  magic 
sleep  on  the  boy,  take  away  the  girls,  and  claim  them  from  their  uncle.  Owing  to 
magic  influence,  the  boy  forgets  his  supernatural  helper  (instead  of  the  true 
bride,  as  in  most  tales),  who  in  the  end  appears  to  him  and  takes  him  across  the 
lake,  swimming.  The  chief  has  put  off  the  claimants,  and  the  boy  marries  the 
girls. 

>  Teit,  "The  Shuswap,"  Publications  of  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii, 
pp.  704  et  seq. 

s  Ibid.,  p.  727.  ^  Ibid.,  p.  729. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk -Lore  257 

Another  version  of  this  story,  evidently  derived  from  the  Shuswap 
and  Thompson  versions,  is  found  among  the  Chilcotin  Indians  of 
British  Columbia.' 

Here  the  women  are  not  found  underground,  but  were  the  boy's  wives  before 
his  descent.  The  thief  is  the  ghost  of  the  boy's  brother.  Underground  the 
boy  reaches  a  village,  and  suspects  that  a  chicken  had  stolen  the  property,  but 
is  unable  to  prove  it.  He  stays  away  so  long,  that  his  wives  are  to  be  married 
again;  but  their  claimants  are  to  prove  their  ability  by  riding  against  a  spear 
which  is  placed  in  a  slanting  position  in  the  ground.  The  boy  accomplishes  this 
feat  in  the  same  way  as  in  the  Shuswap  version  mentioned  before. 

Among  the  North  Thompson  Shuswap,^  Snanaz  is  identified  with 
the  hero  of  the  seven-heads  story,  which  is  widely  spread  over  the 
Plains. 

Among  the  Thompson  Indians'  a  version  is  current  which  also 
begins  with  the  snaring  of  the  wind.  Then  the  boy  dreams  of  the 
girl  to  whom  Coyote  takes  him.  He  feeds  Coyote  on  the  way  so  as 
to  increase  his  speed.  He  escapes  with  the  girl,  but  is  thrown  by  his 
own  mother  into  a  chasm,  from  which  he  is  rescued  by  Coyote,  who 
pulls  him  out  by  means  of  his  tail. 

Among  the  Micmac*  we  find  part  of  the  story. 

Three  brothers  live  alone,  and  one  remains  at  home  and  does  the  cooking. 
A  dwarf  comes,  asks  for  food,  and  eats  all  that  has  been  cooked.  Finally  the 
eldest  remains,  refuses  food  to  the  dwarf,  and  wrestles  with  him,  until  the  dwarf 
runs  away.  The  man  pursues  him,  and  throws  a  sharp  iron  weapon  through 
the  dwarf's  body  when  he  is  in  front  of  a  precipice.  The  dwarf  disappears  in 
the  rock,  and  returns  the  next  day  with  the  iron  in  his  body.  He  asks  to 
be  relieved  of  it,  and  promises  in  return  beautiful  wives.  He  cures  himself, 
leads  the  three  brothers  to  a  cave  on  top  of  a  high  ciitT  around  which  small  women 
are  seated.  The  men  choose  three  of  them,  take  them  home,  but  when  they 
return  from  hunting  the  women  have  escaped. 

A  remotely  related  tale  is  told  by  the  Ponca,'  the  only  common 
incidents  being  the  adventures  of  a  man  let  down  into  a  chasm  to 
secure  the  body  of  a  hunter  under  the  promise  that  he  is  to  marry  the 
chief's  daughter.  He  is  left  below,  obtains  supernatural  powers,  and 
finally  returns  and  marries  the  girl. 

A  comparison  of  this  material  with  the  detailed  discussion  of  the 
tale  of  "John  the  Bear,"  by  Friedrich  Panzer,*  who  gives  two  hundred 

'  LivinKitton  P'arranfl.  "  Traditionitof  the  Chiltotiti  Indiana."'  Publications  of  the  Jtiup 
North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii,  p.  4a. 

•  Toil,  "  The  ShuHwap."  Ibid.,  vol.  ii,  p.   753. 

'  Tcit.  "Tfa<lition'«  of  the  Thompjton  River  Indian!)."  Sfemoirs  of  the  American  Folk' 
Lore  Society,  vol.  vi.  p.  87. 

•  Rev.  Silas  Tertiim  Rand.  Legends  of  the  .\fiimius  (iSg.j).  p.  4.li. 

'  James  Owen  Dorscy.  "The  CcKilia  I.anKuagc."  Contributions  to  Xorth  American 
Ethnology,  vol.  vi.  p.  35 J. 

•  Friedrich  Panzer,  Studien  zur  nrrm.iniuhfn  Sagengeschichte.  I.  Beowulf  (Munich, 
igio). 


258  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

and  twenty-one  versions  of  the  tale,  shows  clearly  that  the  versions 
recorded  in  America  belong  to  different  types,  all  of  which  are  known 
in  Europe.  The  most  characteristic  forms  are  those  from  Tehuan- 
tepec,  New  Mexico,  one  of  the  Thompson  River  versions,  the  Shoshone, 
and  Assiniboine  versions.  All  of  these  contain  clearly  the  formula  of 
the  birth  of  the  hero  (Panzer's  introductory  formula  A).  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Shuswap,  Chilcotin,  and  Micmac  stories  begin  with 
the  theft,  according  to  Panzer's  introductory  formula  B;  and  both  of 
his  forms  —  the  theft  which  occurs  in  the  house  (Micmac),  and  the 
theft  in  the  garden  (Shuswap)  —  are  found  here.  A  further  com- 
parison of  the  tales  with  the  material  presented  by  Panzer  also 
shows  agreement  in  a  great  many  details  with  various  types  of  Euro- 
pean versions.  Thus  the  bells  which  in  Lowie's  versions  are  tied 
to  the  rope  by  means  of  which  the  man  descends  into  the  hole  are 
particularly  mentioned  in  a  considerable  number  of  European  versions.^ 
The  feeding  of  the  bird  that  takes  away  the  man,  first  with  meat 
which  is  carried  along,  then  with  flesh  from  his  own  body,  is  also 
characteristic  of  quite  a  number  of  versions.^  On  account  of  these 
close  analogies  between  the  tales  recorded  among  different  American 
tribes  and  the  distinct  European  versions,  we  must  conclude  that  the 
tale  has  been  introduced  a  number  of  times  into  America.  It  seems 
to  me  probable  that  a  more  extended  collection  might  clear  up  the 
lines  of  importation.^ 

A  similar  study  might  be  made  on  the  distribution  of  the  "  Tale  of 
the  Seven  Heads,"  which  has  already  been  mentioned  as  belonging  to 
this  class.  The  essential  element  of  the  seven-heads  story  is  the  tearing- 
out  of  the  tongues  of  the  seven  heads  of  the  monster,  which  serve  as 
a  token  by  means  of  which  the  hero  is  recognized  when  a  pretender 
claims  his  bride.* 

1  Friedrich  Panzer,  1.  c.  p.  117. 
>  Ibid.,  p.  191. 

*  I  do  not  enter  here  into  a  discussion  of  the  relation  of  this  tale  to  many  Indian  tales 
that  contain  only  parts  of  the  tale  here  discussed,  because  this  would  necessarily  lead  to 
a  lengthy  consideration  of  the  question  of  independent  origin  and  of  dissemination. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  apparently  there  is  such  a  vast  array  of  tales  containing  parallel 
elements,  probably  of  greater  age  in  America  than  that  of  "  John  the  Bear,"  that  their 
presence  seems  to  have  facilitated  the  introduction  of  this  tale.  I  hope  to  revert  to 
this  matter  at  a  later  time. 

*  See,  for  instance,  Clark  Wissler  and  D.  C.  Duvall,  "  Blackfoot  Mythology,"  .4 n- 
thropological  Papers  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  vol.  ii  (1908),  p.  163; 
James  Owen  Dorsey,  The  Cegiha  Language,  p.  126  (Ponca);  A.  F.  Chamberlain,  Eighth 
Report  on  the  North-Western  Tribes  of  Canada  (Report  of  the  62d  meeting  of  the  B.  A.  A.  A., 
1892),  p.  579  (Kutenay);  see  also  A.  L.  Kroeber,  "Gros  Ventre  VLyihs,"  Anthropological 
Papers  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  vol.  i,  p.  57  (Arapaho  and  Sarcee); 
French  versions  "Les  fils  du  pScheur,"  "La  bete  £l  sept  t^tes,"  in  E.  Cosquin,  "Contes 
populaires  Lorrains,"  Romania,  vol.  v,  pp.  336  et  seq.;  Spanish  version  "  Hierro,  Plomo 
y  Acero,"  in  Sergio  Hernandez  de  Soto,  "Cuentos  populares  recogidos  en  Extremadura," 
Biblioteca  de  las  tradiciones  populares  espanoles,  vol.  x,  p.  251. 


Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore  259 

As  stated  before,  the  possible  sources  for  the  animal  tales  are  to  be 
looked  for  among  the  African  negro  and  Spanish-Portuguese  tales. 
The  sources  for  the  hero  tales  mentioned  before  may  be  Spanish  and 
French.  It  seems  to  me  very  probable  that  certain  French  elements 
have  been  introduced  into  the  whole  region  traversed  in  olden  times 
by  the  French  fur-hunters.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seems  rather  re- 
markable that  among  the  Indians  of  the  Western  plateaus  apparently 
certain  tales  of  European  origin  play  an  important  part  in  their  folk- 
lore, which  do  not  appear  as  clearly  among  the  Eastern  tribes.  It  is 
also  worthy  of  mention,  that,  so  far  as  I  am  aware.  Uncle  Remus 
stories  have  not  been  collected  in  New  England.  Owing  to  the  close 
inter-relations  found  in  the  native  folk-lore  of  the  Western  plateaus, 
to  which  I  have  referred  repeatedly,  and  to  the  wide  distribution  of  the 
Spanish  tales,  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  look  for  the  origin  of  the 
Western  group  of  tales  in  Spanish  folk-lore.  It  is  worth  mentioning 
in  this  connection  that  the  so-called  "Mexicans"  (that  is,  Sjjanish- 
speaking  half-bloods)  still  live  as  far  north  as  British  Columbia,  and 
that  the  vocabulary  of  the  Western  plateaus  relating  to  the  horse 
contains  a  considerable  number  of  Spanish  expressions.  The  final 
solution  of  this  problem  would  require  a  careful  collection  of  European 
folk-lore  from  all  parts  of  North  America. 

I  believe  the  problem  is  more  important  than  might  appear  at  first 
glance,  because,  even  outside  of  the  group  of  stories  mentioned  before, 
folkloristic  elements  as  well  as  customs  occur  among  the  Northwestern 
Indians,  which  are  open  to  the  suspicion  of  foreign  influence,  once 
such  influence  has  been  proved  to  exist.  This  is  particularly  true  of 
the  occurrence  of  the  musical  bow  among  the  Indians  of  California  and 
Mexico.  In  the  folk-lore  of  the  area  in  question  I  consider  as  partic- 
ularly suspicious  the  incident  of  the  creation  of  four  trees  from  arrows 
or  hairs,  which  the  person  pursued  by  a  monster  or  by  animals  climbs. 
The  animal  cuts  down  the  trees  one  after  another;  and  the  person 
pursued  is  finally  rescued  by  his  dogs,  whom  he  calls,  and  who  hear 
him,  although  they  are  far  away.  This  incident  belongs  to  the  folk- 
lore of  Europe,  of  the  American  negroes,  and  of  Africa.'  I  might 
{KThaps  also  mention  the  incident  of  the  attack  by  wolves  upon  a 
I)crs<jn  who  has  taken  refuge  in  a  tree.  The  animals  try  to  get  him 
by  climbing  one  on  the  back  of  the  other,  but  the  lower  of  animals 

'  Ilicrro,  IMomo  y  Aicro.  in  Srrjjin  Hcrniindoz  cjc  Soto,  "Cucnto«i  {Ktpularcii  recogidos 
en  Eixtrrnmdtira."  Biblinteca  de  las  tradicinnrs  foputares  rspaHoles,  vol.  x.  p.  349;  "Lot 
trc*  pcrrcw."  Ibid.,  p.  258;  Joel  Chanfllcr  Harris,  Uncle  Remus  and  his  Friends,  pp.  86-87, 
98  (the  fuKitive  tran<i(ormti  arrows  into  trees  and  rails  his  df)Ks.  Minny-Minny  Muraclcl 
Folia  malinskal);  Dr.  Leonard  .Srhultze,  A  us  S'amaland  und  Kalahari  (Jena.  1907).  p.  .jo8; 
James  Teit.  "Traditions  oi  the  Thompitun  River  Indians."  Sfemoirs  0/  the  American 
Folk-Lore  Society,  vol.  vl  (189H).  p.  .14;  James  Tcit.  "The  .Shuswap."  Puhlicalions  0/  the 
Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii,  p.  6.)6;  James  Teit,  "Mythology  o(  the  Thompson 
Indians,"  Ibid.,  vol.  viii,  p.  asj. 


26o  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

finally  breaks  down.  The  similarity  in  detail  in  these  and  other  tradi- 
tions is  not  sufficient  to  establish  definitely  an  historical  relation,  but 
is  so  close,  that  it  warrants  further  investigation.  It  is  perhaps 
worth  remarking  that  a  few  of  the  elements  here  discussed  occur 
among  the  Nootka  Indians  of  Vancouver  Island,  who  have  been  for 
a  short  time  in  contact  with  the  Spaniards;  but  the  available  evi- 
dence is  rather  uncertain.  I  refer  particularly  to  the  incident  of  the 
water  animal  that  is  to  be  killed,  and  requests  to  be  thrown  into  the 
water  ;^  and  an  incident  very  much  like  the  bee  incident  discussed 
before  (p.  249). ^ 

Obviously  the  material  does  not  yet  justify  final  treatment,  but  the 
problem  seems  of  sufficient  importance  to  call  for  the  collection  of 
folk-tales  of  European  origin  among  all  the  Indian  tribes  of  our  con- 
tinent, as  well  as  among  the  negroes,  with  a  view  of  separating,  ac- 
cording to  the  grouping  of  tales,  the  French,  Spanish-American,  and 
African  tales  that  have  been  imported.  Equally  necessary  is  a  col- 
lection of  animal  tales  from  Spain  and  Portugal,  and  of  control  material 
from  the  Philippine  Islands.  It  seems  very  likely  that  the  influence 
exerted  by  this  foreign  material  upon  Western  mythologies  and  customs 
has  been  quite  far-reaching,  and  must  be  considered  much  more  care- 
fully than  we  have  done  heretofore. 

Columbia  University, 
New  York. 

Note.  —  After  the  above  was  in  type.  Dr.  K.  T.  Preuss'  important 
publication  on  the  Cora,  "  Die  Nayarit-Expedition  "  (Leipzig,  1912),  was 
received,  which  contains  quite  a  number  of  elements  of  the  tales  here  dis- 
cussed (pp.  207-210,  289-298).  The  tales  are  partly  in  the  form  of  the 
Coyote  and  Opossum  cycle  as  told  in  the  Valley  of  Mexico;  in  part  they 
appear  as  the  Rabbit  cycle.  The  following  analogies  may  be  pointed  out. 
Opossum  has  stolen  fruits  from  a  field,  and  is  tied  to  a  tree.  He  tells  Coyote 
that  this  is  because  he  is  to  marry  a  girl.  Coyote  is  tied  up  in  his  place, 
and  is  burnt  by  the  owner  of  the  field.  —  Rabbit  pretends  to  boil  food,  and 
asks  Coyote  to  take  his  place;  when  he  opens  the  pot,  wasps  come  out  and 
sting  him.  —  The  race  between  Wolf  and  Locust.  —  Opossum  and  the  Wax 
Baby.  —  Opossum  supports  the  sky.  —  Opossum  throws  zapotes  and  tunas 
at  Coyote.  — The  stories  of  "  Opossum  and  the  Bees,"  and  the  "  Burning 
of  Coyote  in  the  Reeds,"  are  combined  here  into  one.  Opossum  pretends 
that  the  beehive  is  a  bell  which  Coyote  is  to  ring  when  he  hears  the  sky- 
rockets. —  The  incident  of  the  cheese  in  the  water  is  also  found.  —  The 
long  story,  "  How  Rabbit  pays  his  Debts,"  is  also  told  by  Preuss.  —  "  The 
Answering  Cave,"  and  "  Rabbit's  Escape  from  the  Alligator,"  are  also 
told  by  Preuss.  — The  final  incident,  how  Rabbit  discovered  that  the  Alli- 
gator was  not  dead,  occurs  in  South  American  and  negro  versions. 

'  Boas,  Sagen,  p.  109. 

'  Ibid.,  p.  109;  also  Boas,  "  Traditions  of  the  Tillamook  Indians,"  Journal  of  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  xi,  p.  141. 


Mexican  Folk-Songs 


261 


MEXICAN  FOLK-SONGS 

TRANSCRIBED    BY    ELEANOR    HAGUE 

These  songs  were  gathered  during  the  course  of  a  winter  spent  in 
Mexico.  Nos.  i,  4,  9,  and  10  are  all  in  the  familiar  danza-form, 
sometimes  called  the  "Habanera,"  as  it  originated  in  Havana.  This 
rhythm  is  popular  in  Old  Spain,  but  more  so  in  the  different  parts  of 
Spanish  America.  As  a  rule,  it  consists  of  two  sections,  although  in 
No.  10  there  are  three  subdivisions.  I  am  told  that  this  song  is  sung 
in  Cuba  as  well  as  Mexico,  and  the  words  would  suggest  this. 

The  other  songs  need  no  comment,  except  No.  3,  the  "Jarabe 
Mixteca,"  which  was  played  for  me  on  the  harmonica  by  a  big  half- 
breed  Indian.  The  Jarabe  is  a  dance-song  of  the  southern  part  of 
the  Spanish  peninsula,  and  there  is  a  strong  Moorish  element  in 
those  that  I  have  heard  that  come  from  Spain.  The  Indians  of  South- 
western Mexico  continue  to  use  the  old  Spanish  names,  "Jarabe," 
"Petenera,"  and  so  forth,  for  their  dance-songs,  whether  the  tunes 
really  resemble  the  originals  or  not. 


I.       PREGUNTALE 
(From  Pucbla.     Sung  by  Mrs.  G.  H.) 
Rather  dowly.  Danza  rhythm  for  accompaniment. 
-^-r■ — —^z z ic-f— i^- — N- 


ven      llo  -  rar, 


Pre  -  gtiD-  ta-le8     si     do      bus  •  00, 


pa-ra  ador- 


ar  -  te     la      bo  -   le  -   dad.  Pre  -  giintalo  al     nian  -  ho         ri    -    o. 


;^z^+.j;-^^J.|J     ,    ;-p^ 


£ 


Bi'l  llan-to        ini-o    no     v<''     cor  -   rer, 


Pre-Rfintale  A    todo    el 


:  tt.  •       * 


^ 


:$  .i^  ;;ir4t 


imjiLK^. 


^E* 


w 


3EII1 


man  -  do  si  do's  pro  •  fuD  -  do  mi    pa  -  de    •  oer. 


Ya  nau  •  oa 


262 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


^^- 


^±^^ 


:*=t: 


da  -  dee 

que  yo 

te         qui  -  ero, 

Q 

ae   por     tf 

mu  - 

1 

ero, 

V    u                « 

I 

».                             k 

1         1 

^    It 

K 

J                                    '                ' 

-Aw  i-n?-E- 

-# 

—si 

1-   1^    ^ — ^ 

__H_ 

-=t-"^f^J     J' 

-• 

-•H 

Lg^^^— =?-^- 

-U 

L_^|j=*d 

•    ^ 

•_ 

_j 

lo-oo     de       amor;         d  na  -  die    a  -  mes,        d  na-die   quie-res, 


JM^ — ^ 


^e 


JE^ 


^-o-ii 


O  -  ye    laa      que-jaa,   0  -  ye     las     que-  jaa  de     mi     a  -  mor. 

2.  Preguntales  k  las  flores,  si  mis  amores  les  cuento  yo, 

Cuando  la  callada  noche  cierra  su  broche,  suspiro  yo, 

Preguntales  a  las  aves,  si  tu  no  sabes  lo  que  es  amor, 

Preguntale  d  todo  el  prado,  si  no  he  luchado  con  mi  dolor. 

Tu  bien  comprendes,  que  yo  te  quiero, 

Que  por  ti  muero,  solo  por  ti; 

Porque  te  quiero,  bien  de  mi  vida, 

Solo  en  el  mundo,  solo  en  el  mundo,  te  quiero  d  ti. 

2.      UN   ADIOS.     CANCION 

(From  Oaxaca.     Sung  by  Pedro  Diaz) 
To  be  sung  slowly,  and  almost  as  a  recitative. 


:tfu===i:==-- 


i=:t 


4=T 


:te^^ 


:q=q=:: 


-^^ 


istzi^tiif:^!? 


:^z=3= 


j2- 


Cuan-do  me  ve  -  as  .  .  ,         en     la      de  -  sier  -  ta  play 


S3 


i 


*=3=:S; 


■151- 


5 


Con  mi  tris-  te  -  za,        Y    mi     do  -  lor      d     so  -   lo  .  .  , 


Con 


:^ 


^=st 


-i^*- 


itzM: 


^^=^- 


-a- 


'^^^ 


el     vai  -  v<;n  .  .  ,       in-  ce  -  san  -  te    de    las    o 


las, 


A-cuerda- 


ife,^  :5}z:^3=  9= 


:l==l= 


f 


:^^=^ 


Y  cuando  ve  -  as  . 


P^ 


te 


A-cuer-da-te      de      m£. 


e^ 


« 


•— -^ 


a    - 

ve 

80      - 

li  - 

ta    -    ria, 

Cru  -  zar 

el    ea  - 

pa  -  oio  en 

mo  - 

n  - 

Vnu 

, 

(>   '      m  - 

-] 

/k   H    -1— 

1 

-\ 1- 

-55 H 1 ^- 

-i9 

-f9    '       • 

4-      f- 

-C^—- 

-•-A 

-^  ^    u 

— i- 

-5* \- 

-£ — 1 

-J- 

t~ 

-1 1 — 

hH 

J       fr-*  • 

(5/ 

^   -J- 

^ 

r 

bun  -  do    vue  -  lo.         Bus-  can  -  do    un    alma      en  -  tre       la  mar    y  el 


'— g ^ 


I        111 


^ 


■<&-— 


cie  -    lo,  a  -  ouer  -  da  -  te,       a  -  cuer  -  da  -  te,      de       mf  .  . 


yi 


Mexican  Folk-Songs 


263 


3.      JARABE  MIXTECA 
(From  Oaxaca.     Played  by  M.  Salinas  on  a  mouth-organ,  with  guitar  accompaniment) 
Rather  slowly. 


S<,    I ^ — N — v-H f^ — ^ — ^n- 


f 


i^ 


Minor. 


L-l   I  J   I  1,' 


f 


;P— (S- 


•<2- 


«=P=ir 


-I — I — ^- 


ifzz^ 


Major. 


1^=t 


bt- 


•-c*- 


;|: 


(C (^—  -# • • 0- 


1 — r 


* — *-^# 


5=4: 


:i=^ 


t=x 


->^^ — F 


1 — h 


-s^'-ef 


g 


^T  I     I  I  '     iJg 


]?=f?- 


£ 


:f=»: 


I      I    II      I 


m 


4.      LAS   TRISTAS   HORAS 
(From  Pucbla.     Sung  by  Mrs.  G.  H.) 


h 


Danza  rhythm. 


B* 


^ 


fcf 


^ 


-* — ?v- 


-N ^- 


:t^- 


^ — u- 


•r  -^  -r 
1.  Qae  tris- tea  son     las      ho  -   res,  De   la    fa-tal      aa 


BCD  -  01a, 


--=3: 


^?^^ 


i^se^ 


P 


Que  tria  -  tea    los       re  -  oner  -  doa,  De     a-morea  qne     ae      van. 


i^ji 


^ 


* — 5r 


3=ifc=i&:i^ 


^:t^ 


Qae  tria  -  te  7  de  •  ao   -    la   -    da, 


Recjuo-da    la     exis  -  l^*!!  -   cin, 


---g— * — g — g- 


^^^^^Sg 


Si      la     nni  -  ca     espe  -  ran    -   za, 


Del    00  -  ra  -  ztm      ae       vn. 


=^-5^ 


*^^^ 


i^:^ 


8=5: 


m 


A-dio8,  ouando   ma  -   fia    -    na,  Ea-tea   ba-  }o    otro     cie   -    lo, 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


izzzJ 


fio 


A   nuea-  tro  cielo     a 


znl. 


I 3 — 5 — 1^ — 1^ — h 1— 


Ni  glo-ria  ni     ven  -  tu 


ra, 


^la 


:i^_=^ 


Ni     di  -  cha    ni      con  -  sue    -    lo, 


A-donde  no     es  -   tas       tu. 


Ir^n  k  visitarte 
Las  brisas  que  han  besado 
Mi  f rente  pensativa, 
Contandote  mi  aftin. 
En  tanto  que  recuerda 
Mi  pecho  enamorado 
Las  dichas  que  pasaron 

Y  nunca  volverin. 

Y  cuando  al  caer  la  tarda, 
Las  palidas  neblinas 
Adornan  de  los  cielos 

El  ultimo  fulgor. 
Jugaran  con  tus  rizos 
Las  auras  vespertinas 
Fingiendote  mis  besos 
Contcindote  mi  amor. 


Moderately. 


LA  INDIA 


1.  Po-bre-ci  -  ta    de    la    In  -  di  -  ta,  Que  vie  -  ne      des-de  la  Haba-na, 


:M^ 


S^ 


T 


'^ 


■(2- 


-A— fS 1 1 


A  -  ma-aan  -do  el  re  -  que-86n,  Ay!    y     eipri-mien-do   la  caa  -  ja  -  da. 


^ 


•5^ 


:=|=:=t 


:q= 


If 


it 


Ta-rin-ga      fa-ohi-ra -ma- ga,   tu-tu  ri  -  Ua,    gran-ma- ma    oa-she, 


—•—j-V^ 


^ 


^ 


-^ 


'-^^- 


--J=t^ 


1 


gran-ma-ni  -  Ho       ut  -  i  -  ti     ti  -  11a  gran-ma-  ni  -  llo       ti  -  ri  -  sia  -  dei. 
(F"rom  Oaxaca.     Sung  by  Podro  Diaz) 
2.  i  Alma  mia!  de  mis  corrales, 
Cuando  el  indio  los  vendi6, 
No  tuvo  la  culpa  el  indio, 
Sine  quien  sc  las  compr6.     Taringa,  etc. 


Mexican  Folk-Songs 


265 


Slmcly. 


3.  Una  indita  Chinaltepa 

Kstaba  cortando  flores, 
*     Y  el  indito  Quatro  Orejas 

Gozando  de  sus  amores.     Taringa,  etc. 

6.      TECOLOTE 
(Sung  by  Seflorita  Luz  Gonzdiez  Dosal) 


-*=^^ 


0-r 


t=t^ 


P 


£ 


•g~~g' 


E 


V — M« — U — U- 


Te-00  -  lo-  te      de  Goa-da  -    fia,    Pa- ja  -  ro  ma-dm  -  ga  -  dor 


m 


Fast. 


^ — f*— ^- 


-*— p— f 


I       I       I     It 


:*Z3C: 


-V — fe/- 


1 — r 


Meprea-ta  -  ras    toa      a  -   li  -   taa,      Me  pres  -  ta  -  raa    tas     a- 


li  -  tas,    Me  pres-ta  -  raa    toa     a  -  li  •  taa,    Pa-  re     ir    d  yer  mi     a  - 


r-9-*y — < N    ts, 1 1-1 

^  1  -  v-M^-r  f—f—f-h 

-=—\ ^-J-J-J-4 — 1 — 1 — I— 

mor,     Pa-ra     ir    &  ver  mi      a  -  mor. 


Ti-oa-  ri  -  on  -  ay  -  oa  -  ay- 


rg       #  #~g: 


-< 1 ► 


!^    IT     I      I     ± 


-V-U'    1/     II        !        ! 


cu  -  ay!     Ti-cn-  ri  -  cu  -  ay  -  cu  -  ay  -  cu  -  ay!     Ti-ou-  ri  -  cu  -  ay  -  ca  -  ay 


m 


I 


-^:=f^ 


on  -  ay!        Po  -  bre  -  ci  -  to   te  -  00  -  lo  -  te  ya  se  cau  -  aa    de     lie  -  rar. 

7.       EL    CLAVEL 
(The  words  of    this  uonx  1  was  only  able  to  Ret  in  a  garbled  lorin  from    SeAora    Kufugio 

Fuentes,  Mexico) 


i-zS: 


i^Hc 


^ 


^^ 


m    '  '  '    — tf»- 


1 


&  *    ri 


'7  I     jj  • 


^-t^T:^-r-r^^^^4^^^ 


r^mj 


^   •x^   •     •  *    •"    - 


266 


fc^ 


fc=3t 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


-^^^: 


^      I       n 


*^ 


^--» 


^ 


:tit 


:iii 


♦-*- 


-r^^ 


8.      LAS   MANANITAS^ 
(From  Oaxaca.     Sung  by  M.  Salinas) 


^^ 


^= 


-^- 


S^ 


& 


t: 


:c 


A-qni  esU    la    pie-dra    li  -  ea, 


En    don  -  de    yo    me    res- 


i 


^^^=t-- 


^ 


■^ • 


7- 


t=t^ 


ba  -  le  . 


A  -  qui    no  hay  quien  me    le  -  van  -  te  .  . 


i 


nUTfAl., tm=iSiUM4 


•l-J^ — fv — I H ^- 


:d? 


s 


quien  la  .  .  .  ma-  no  me  d6.  .  .  . 

Repeat  lat  section.     \  Second  ending. 


i»r:J 


^^ 


^^^^^^^^^ 


9.      POR   TI   RESPIRA 
(Sung  by  Miss  E.  A.  S.) 


^ 


Slowly. 


2z 


m 


=F 


fc±- 


h± 


^^ZMZZ-tZ^' 


^_^__!^: 


:?=ip 


^ 


Por  ti      re  -  spi  -  ra 


mi  pecho  en  oal  -  ma, 


Por      tl       sus- 


^ 


W^^- 


'^-^-^- 


zSuMi 


pi  -  ra, 


de    a-mor  mi       al  -  ma. 


Da-me,  que  -  ri  -    da, 


Rfefc^ 


i 


fc^^^^ 


ffi^=iz:t;S^ 


fl^= 


feE^ 


^ 


da-  me  tu  a  -  mor 


Sin  tf  no  hay  di  -  cha,  No  hay  ilu- 


it 


m^-E0^^^^^m^^^^ 


-TZi- 


:M4 


*=;? 


f»^- N- 


Bi6n. —  Yo  quiero    ver    la       luz,  tus  o-jos     d      mi  -  rar,    mi-ra-me, 

1  This  song  is  one  of  the  class  sung  by  young  people  on  the  way  home,  after  an  evening's 
entertainment. 


Mexican  Folk-Songs 


267 


■^ 


m^? 


F=A=:?^ 


5tz=^=c 


=1: 


ni  -  fia,       Bf,       nii-ra-me,  por  pie  -  dad;    Sin    tl  no  hay  dicha,  no, 


^ 


ni  vi-da  ni  pla  -  cer,    Mi  ra-me,  o  muero  yo,     por  falta  de  qne  - 
10.      LA   MULATA 
(F"rom  Cuba  and  Mexico  City.     Sung  by  Seflorita  Luz  Gonzalez  Dosal) 
Damn  rhythm  for  accompaniment. 


^ 


^      -'       &    _P^- 


I^S 


-A r 


^ 


ii==^ 


?4= 


1.  Pa -Be 

■  an  -  do     nna  ma  -  fia  -  na, 

Por  las  calles  de 

la  Ha- 

V  /^  t?      1^    1      fc.    fc 

»              ^      a 

^, 

\    p  1    ^ 

,          1 

\/Lt\i               \        t     ^ 

T  '    ^    T     r 

"  1       ^    fc 

j^  J   J 

1           .       fv    1 

f\f^^     •-.J       /-i- 

-*y "^ — K< w— 

J S-J^ 

« •  *  •  ' 

w  . 

K     N 

LLji_Z «L_^ 1 

L!f ^< !?_l 

■  #  •   #    ^  1 

•     *     ' 

ba-  Da,  La  mo-  re  -  na  Tri-  ni-dad,  La  mo-re  -  na  Tri  -ni-dad;  Pa-ae- 


i* 


m 


m  ;  J  .R^g^ 


* 


an  -  do    ana  ma  - 

fia  -  na,    Por  las  calles  de      la  Ha  - 

ba  -  na.     En-  tre 

../tP\}    0 -■    -    0.    0 

-P--  ..   ^   N 

T  T^'^"5'~t7 — ?~L? !r~ 

-f-g-#— #— #- 

-^ — ^i^-f — ^- 

" — 1~" 

y  •'   1^ 

X^.J      "^    ^       ^    ^      ^ 

i-i — -pi — 5/   j^ 

1 Ji_f__* — ;_! 

'— zsi — ' 

#  ■ 

doe     la  an  -  je  -  ta  -  ton,  En-tre  doe    la  sn  -  je  -  ta 


i 


m 


^^. 


m 


^ 


pre  -  sa     ae     la        He  -    va  -  ron,    De    or  -  den    de    la     aa-to-ri- 


^ 


±ji 


-^-^-t-^ 


5E 


dad. 


La   mo  -  re  -  na    llo  -  ra  -  ba  y  de 


cf 


"Es-td 


^ 


:^:X}=;^^ 


-A— 


'flfl     qu<'i     e«     la  Kran  pi  -  oar-  dfa,        Srnor  Jncz,  no 


^:J—J^=^^^T  i^     IJE^ 


me  tra  -  %e    tan 


I 


^- 


t==t 


■m #- 

oho     na   -    da. 


du   -  ro,     qae  yo     le    aae  -  gu  -    ro     qne    he    he 

2.  Pcro  cl  jucz  que  la  miraba, 
Y  en  sus  oj()3  so  rccrcaha, 
Sin  |)fKlerlo  rc-nicdiar  (bis) 
Ix;  dcc(a  .^i  la  miilata 
No  te  jHTdoiu)  la  |H'iia. 
Ni  ix)r  amor  ni  caridad  [bis). 
P()r(|iic  si  que  A  robar  corazoncs 
Sc  drdiran  tus  ()jf)8  gachones, 
Kilos  son  los  (|iic  A  t(  tc  dflatan 
Con  illos  me  inalas,  cso  fs  la  vcrdac 
New  York.  X.  Y. 


}     (.bis) 


268  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


THE   PLAY-PARTY 

BY    HARRIET   L.   WEDGWOOD 

Quite  recently,  upon  my  mentioning  to  a  folk-song  enthusiast  some 
of  the  old  play-party  songs  I  had  heard  at  various  times,  my  attention 
was  called  to  Mrs.  L.  D.  Ames's  article  on  "The  Missouri  Play-Party," 
published  in  the  July-September  (191 1)  number  of  this  Journal.  I 
was  interested  to  find  that  I  knew  most  of  the  songs  quoted  in  that 
article,  and  some  that  were  not  mentioned.  In  some  cases  the  wording 
of  songs  as  given  by  Mrs.  Ames  agrees  almost  exactly  with  the  wording 
I  remember;  in  other  cases  it  differs.  In  the  "Happy  Miller  Boy" 
Mrs.  Ames  gives  the  last  two  lines  as  follows: 

"  Gents  step  forward 
And  ladies  step  back." 

I  have  heard  it  sung  so,  also 

"  Ladies  step  forward 
And  gents  step  back;  " 

but  it  was  more  often  sung 

"The  wheel  goes  'round 
And  cries  out  *  grab.'  " 

These  lines  agree  with  the  last  lines  of  the  play-song  "The  Jolly  Old 
Miller"  as  it  was  sung  some  years  ago  in  Maine,  but  the  rest  of  the 
Maine  song  differs  altogether  in  its  wording  from  the  song  as  I  used 
to  hear  it.  The  "Jolly  Miller"  of  Maine,  moreover,  puts  his  hand 
into  a  "bag,"  while  the  Middle-Western  "Miller  Boy"  puts  his  hand 
into  a  "sack"  (even  though  it  does  not  rhyme),  perhaps  for  the  reason 
that  the  Middle-Westerner  uses  "sacks,"  and  not  "bags." 

While  the  play-party  songs  I  have  heard  came,  I  believe,  directly 
from  Missouri,  it  was  not  in  Missouri  I  heard  them,  but  in  southwestern 
Nebraska  and  southern  Iowa. 

When  southwestern  Nebraska  was  opened  to  homesteaders,  about 
twenty-seven  years  ago,  settlers  came  in,  in  considerable  numbers,  from 
the  States  a  little  farther  east,  —  Missouri,  Iowa,  Kentucky,  Illinois, 
Indiana,  —  and  in  less  numbers  from  the  other  States  and  from 
Germany,  Sweden,  and  Great  Britain.  The  Swedes  and  Germans  kept 
pretty  well  to  themselves;  but  the  others  soon  got  acquainted,  made 
visits,  and  began  to  plan  amusements.  There  was  very  little  possible 
in  the  way  of  amusement.  Card-playing  was  regarded  by  many  as 
the  invention  of  the  Devil,  and  dancing  shared  the  same  condemnation. 
Dancing,  moreover,  was  hardly  practicable  in  a  comnninity  in  which 


The  Play-Party 


269 


most  of  the  houses  boasted,  for  the  first  year  or  two,  of  nothing  but 
dirt  floors,  and  where  the  vioHn  was  scarce,  and  the  parlor-organ  even 
more  scarce.  The  play-party,  though  really  a  dance,  was  not  so 
regarded  by  those  who  condemned  dancing,  and  it  had  the  advantage 
of  being  thoroughly  practicable.  A  play-party  play  could  be  danced 
in  the  yard,  on  any  kind  of  ground,  by  lantern-light  or  moonlight,  and 
the  music  was  furnished  by  the  players  themselves.  Wherefore,  for 
the  first  summer  or  two,  the  play-party  flourished,  until  it  was  super- 
seded by  the  dance;  and  it  was  practically  the  only  amusement  for 
summer  evenings,  as  the  "literary"  (i.  e.,  literary  society)  was  for 
winter  evenings;  and,  like  the  literary  society,  it  was  attended  by  the 
family  en  masse.  In  both  and  all  cases  the  younger  ones  among  us 
went  to  sleep  before  the  evening  was  far  spent,  and  missed  what  was 
going  on  (neither  play-party  nor  literary  society  broke  up  till  after 
midnight),  wherefore  I  cannot  remember  our  play-party  songs  entire, 
nor  how  some  of  them  were  played.  I  give,  however,  such  as  I  now 
remember. 

I.       THE    MILLER    BOY 


M^ 

-N- 

--A— N- 

-*K-\ 

-^>- 



1    N     fS     N     N    1 
-^— i      J     J — 

^^-4- 

J- 

-# — J— 

* 

-•      #-T 

-^— rv--l- 

-^^ 

LJ-r 

i 


-^ — N — N — ><- 


3^^i=^- 


JS: 


^^ 


m 


£ 


I 


^  ^  ^ 


m 


*it 


1^1 


-* — 1^ — r- 


Oh,  happy  is  the  miller  boy 
That  lives  by  himself, 
Turning  'round  the  wheel 
Is  gaining  all  his  wealth; 
One  hand  in  the  hopper 
And  the  other  in  the  sack, 
The  wheel  goes  'round, 
And  cries  out  '  grab.'  " 


Men  and  girls  formed  in  couples  and  marched  about  in  a  circle,  the 
girls  on  the  outside  of  the  circle.  One  man,  without  a  partner,  stcxxl 
in  the  middle  of  the  ring,- and  endeavored  to  secure  a  partner  at  the 
word  "grab,"  when  the  couples  e.xchanged  partners  by  the  girls  taking 
a  step  forward,  the  men  a  step  backward,  or  vice  vers/l.  The  man  left 
without  a  partner  took  his  pl.ue  in  tin-  (ciitrc,  and  (in-  wlml  bc-gan 
again  to  turn. 


270 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


fi: 


^^ 


2.      SKIP   TO       MVLOU 

A fS- 


:*!=*: 


,1 1 I 1-         .1 


5^1 


-g— g- 


^iftnrr'jii 


Skip  to  my  Lou, 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Skip  to  my  Lou,  my  darling. 

Gone  again. 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Gone  again. 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Gone  again. 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Skip  to  my  Lou,  my  darling. 

Stole  my  pardner, 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Stole  my  pardner, 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Stole  my  pardner, 

Skip  to  my  Lou, 
Skip  to  my  Lou,  my  darling. 

I'll  get  another 

Prettier'n  you, 
I'll  get  another 

Prettier'n  you, 
I'll  get  another 

Prettier'n  you, 
Skip  to  my  Lou,  my  darling. 

Pretty  as  a  red-bird,^ 

Prettier  too, 
Pretty  as  a  red-bird, 

Prettier  too, 
Pretty  as  a  red-bird, 

Prettier  too, 
Skip  to  my  Lou,  my  darling. 

Gone  again,  etc. 

The  "Skip  to  my  Lou"  was  pronounced  very  much  as  if  it  were 
spelled  "Skip  tum'loo,"  the  "skip"  being  very  short  and  staccato,  the 
"to  my  Lou"  slurred  into  one  word  with  the  accent  on  the  "Lou." 

»  Or  blue-bird. 


The  Play-Party 


271 


Couples  formed  in  a  circle  as  for  the  "Miller  Boy;"  but  the  figures 
consisted  of  a  march,  balancing,  and  a  "grand  right  and  left,"  the 
march  beginning  with  different  partners  every  stanza  or  two. 

3.       we're    marching    down    to    old    QUEBEC 


5^ 


& 


m 


-:^r-^ 


^T-TJ-yr^^ 


¥^' 


3L:t. 


-A— A- 


^=i=^ 


^r^^ 


VVe  are  marching  down  to  Old  Quebec, 
While  the  drums  are  loudly  beating, 


We're  marching  down  to  Old  Quebec, 
While  the  drums  are  loudly  beating. 


4.       UP    AND 

DOWN   THE    CENTRE    WE   CO 

L/ "    .1      »        >.     >.      ^ 

1*       1 

\        ^ 

\        S: 

f\                ' 

'7*^  1  **    ^     c  ^  J 

/•                  1 

N 

_r 

s 

fV^     ki     J           ^           ■ 

1         •        J 

,     J^    . 

• 

J 

-vy    n    *  '    »    * 

1/                * 

-•          .      . 

• 

{      ] 

#■ 

:t^=C^ 


#-r 


1^=:^: 


m 


Up  anrl  down  the  centre  we  go, 
Up  and  down  the  centre  we  go, 
Up  and  down  the  centre  we  go, 
On  a  cold  and  frosty  morning. 

Now's  the  time  to  chase  the  scjuirrel, 
Now's  the  time  to  chase  the  squirrel, 
Now's  the  time  to  chase  the  squirrel, 
On  a  cold  and  frosty  morning. 

Catch  her  and  kiss  hi-r  if  you  can,  etc. 

Two  lines  fDnncd,  as  for  .1  r(»-l,  with  tlu-  y^x\^  facing  thr  iiirii.  At 
the  second  stanza  a  girl  was  pursued  by  a  man  down  between  the  two 
lines  and  \\\)  on  the  outside,  who  kissed  her  if  he  caught  her  Ix'forc  she 
reached  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  line.  This  was  one  of  the  kissing- 
games. 


272 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


THE  JUNIPER-TREE 


^^ 


£E^ 


:^=^ 


*-#- 


=P=t: 


\ 1- 


O  dear  Sister  Phoebe 

How  merry  were  we, 
The  night  we  sat  under 

The  juniper  tree, 
The  juniper  tree-ee, 

High-o,  high-o. 
The  juniper  tree-ee, 

High-o. 

Now  take  this  hat  on  your  head. 

Keep  your  head  warm, 
And  take  a  sweet  kiss, 

It  will  do  you  no  harm, 
But  a  great  deal  of  goo-od 

I  know,  I  know. 
But  a  great  deal  of  goo-od 

I  know. 

Another  stanza  followed,  which  directed  "Sister  Phoebe"  to  "go 
choose  her  a  man,"  or,  if  it  were  a  man  (Brother  — )  who  was  being 
addressed,  to  "go  choose  him  a  wife." 

Men  and  girls  formed  a  circle  about  an  empty  chair.  A  man  chose 
a  girl  and  seated  her  in  the  chair,  after  which  he  marched  about  the 
chair,  placing  a  hat  on  her  head,  and  giving  her  a  kiss  in  the  proper 
places  in  the  song,  after  which  he  left  her.  The  girl  then  rose  up  and 
chose  a  man,  whom  she  led  to  the  chair,  after  which  the  song  began 
again,  addressed  to  "Dear  Brother  —  ." 

6.       OLD    DAN    TUCKER 


^3^fe^^ 


m 


^ 


^^ 


m 


5ti=it 


tE^^nzrrjj:^^ 


Old  Dan  Tucker's  come  to  town, 
Swinging  the  ladies  all  around. 
First  to  the  right,  and  then  to  the  left, 
And  then  to  the  one  that  you  love  best. 


The  Play-Party 


273 


Get  out  of  the  road  for  Old  Dan  Tucker, 
He's  too  late  to  get  his  supper. 

Old  Dan  Tucker's  a  fine  young  man, 
He  washed  his  face  in  the  frying-pan, 
He  combed  his  hair  with  a  wagon  wheel, 
And  died  of  the  toothache  in  his  heel. 

Get  out  of  the  road,  etc. 

In  this  dance  also  the  couples  formed  a  circle;  and  the  figures 
consisted  of  marching,  swinging  partners,  grand  right  and  left,  etc. 

"The  Needle's  Eye"  was  sometimes  used  as  a  play-party  song,  with 
the  same  words  and  tune  that  I  have  heard  used  in  other  places. 

Some  years  ago  I  was  teaching  in  a  country  school  in  southern  Iowa, 
and  attended  a  play-party  at  the  home  of  one  of  my  pupils.  There 
were  some  familiar  play-songs  sung  at  this  party,  but  more  that  were 
unfamiliar  to  me,  only  one  of  which  I  can  remember. 


FOUR  HANDS  ROUND  IN  THE  EUCHRE  RING 


i 


^   h  ^  ■> 


MiaL 


f^-f   ji   y   TJ 


^-=^: 


^i-^-r 


m 


t=r. 


0      4-4- 


:t^=:if^-^f^-3^^:g 


n=i 


inzz 


:S^ 


*=£ 


Four  hands  round  in  the  euchre  ring. 
Four  hands  round,  I'm  gone, 
Four  hands  round  in  the  euchre  ring, 
With  the  golden  slippers  on. 

Fare  you  will,  my  darling  girl, 
F'arc  you  well,  I'm  gone, 
Fare  you  well,  my  darling  girl. 
With  the  golden  slippers  on. 

Four  i>(f)[)Ic  ftwo  couples)  joined  hands  to  form  a  circlo.  Huring 
the  first  two  lines  of  the  w)ng,  thoy  circled  to  the  right;  during  the 
next  two  lines,  to  the  left.  During  the  second  stanza,  they  did  a 
"right  and  left"  and  broke  up  the  (ircle,  —  one  couple  going  in  one 
direction  tf)  meet  a  couple  on  one  side,  the  other  coui^le  going  in  the 
opposite  direction;  so  that  new  groups  of  four  were  formed,  as  in  a 
roril.ind  I'ancy.  This  contituied  until  the  pl.i\ers  were  wear>',  or 
until  the  original  couples  came  together  again. 
Camdriix^k,  Mass. 


274 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF   FOLK-SONG 

BY    PHILLIPS    BARRY.    A.M. 

Folk-song  is  a  treasure-house  of  the  events  of  human  experience 
in  all  possible  phases,  of  all  the  lights  and  shadows  of  human  fancy, 
and,  furthermore,  of  all  that  by  common  consent  of  the  folk  is  beautiful. 
One  needs  not  to  be  an  artist,  but  only  human,  to  delight  in  it,  to  feel 
the  irresistible  charm  of  its  melodies,  in  each  of  them  the  years'  long 
labor,  not  of  one,  but  of  a  multitude  on  whom  the  Muse  has  smiled, 
and  to  be  thrilled  by  the  dramatic  force  of  its  expression,  to  be  carried 
away  from  self,  to  live  in  the  thoughts  and  actions  of  its  heroes  and 
heroines. 

The  songs  in  the  present  article  are  selected  in  part  by  reason  of 
their  aesthetic  worth,  in  part  for  their  significance  as  illustrating  the 
manner  and  process  of  growth  of  folk-song. 

I.      THE    HOUSE-CARPENTER* 


Dor 
r-9—^ — ^ 

ian. 

cJ — 

r\ rss \r 

ri— 

M 1 

=^S-^ 

-*-^ 

-J^—*sz 

T^ — i — ^ — ^~i~ 

J      f      P- 

J.    ^     J 

XA)  4-    • 

-       ij       :, 

J    J 

•■      \j      \. 

J 

♦) 

'       V 

•   • 

w             ^ 

5 


Tjr-» 


-# — ^ -i Fh- 


•    -0- 


_i m W. 


m 


1.  "Well-met,  well-met,  my  own  true  love. 

Well -met,  well-met,"  says  he, 
"  I've  just  returned  from  the  salt  water  sea. 
And  it's  all  for  the  love  of  thee!" 

2.  "I  might  have  married  a  king's  daughter  fair, 

In  vain  she'd  have  married  me, 
But  I  refused  the  crown  of  gold, 
And  it's  all  for  the  love  of  thee!" 

3.  "  If  you  could  have  married  a  king's  daughter  fair, 

I  think  you  are  much  to  blame, 
For  I  have  married  a  house-carpenter, 
And  I  think  he's  a  nice  young  man." 

4.  "If  you  will  forsake  your  house-carpenter. 

And  will  run  away  with  me, 
I'll  take  you  where  the  grass  grows  green. 
On  the  banks  of  Italy!" 


'  "The  Demon  Lover,"  B,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States. 
Harrisburg,  Pa. 


From  O.  F.  A.  C. 


Some  Aspects  of  Folk-Song  275 

5.  "  If  I  forsake  my  house-carf)enter, 

And  will  run  away  with  thee, 
What  have  you  for  to  maintain  me  upon, 
And  keep  me  from  slavery?" 

6.  "  I  have  four  and  twenty  ships  at  sea, 

All  making  for  dry  land, 
I've  a  hundred  and  forty  jolly  sailor  boys, 
They  shall  all  come  at  your  command." 

7.  She  pressed  her  babe  up  to  her  lips. 

And  gave  it  kisses  three, 
Saying,  "Stay  here,  stay,  my  sweet  little  babe, 
And  keep  your  papa's  company!" 

8.  She  dressed  herself  in  rich  array. 

Most  glorious  to  behold, 
And  as  she  walked  the  streets  along, 
She  shone  like  glittering  gold. 

9.  They  had  not  sailed  but  about  two  weeks, 

I'm  sure  it  was  not  three, 
Until  this  lady  began  to  weep. 
And  she  wept  most  bitterly. 

10.  "Are  you  weeping  for  my  gold?"  said  he, 

"Or  is  it  for  my  store? 
Or  are  you  weeping  for  that  house-carpenter 
Which  you  never  shall  see  any  more?" 

11.  "  I'm  not  weeping  for  your  gold,"  said  she, 

"Nor  is  it  for  your  store. 
But  I'm  wecf)ing  for  my  sweet  little  babe, 
Which  I  never  shall  see  any  more." 

12.  They  had  not  sailed  but  about  three  weeks, 

I'm  sure  it  was  not  four. 
Until  this  good  old  ship  sprang  a  leak, 
And  she  sunk  for  to  rise  no  more. 

13.  "Adieu,  adieu,  my  jolly  sailor  boys! 

.Adieu,  adieu!"  he  cried, 
"For  I  have  robbed  a  house-carpenter, 
Hy  the  stealing  away  of  his  bride." 

The  ballad  of  situation,  to  which  type  "The  Hoiisc-Carpcntcr" 
belongs,  inipres.scs  us  by  the  rcalistn  of  the  action.  .Another  species, 
the  ballad  of  introspection,  as  it  may  be  called,  in  which  the  interest 
centres  aroiiiul  the  chief  actor  as  a  personality,  is  well  represented 
by  the  foilowiiitj  item. 


276 


Journal  of  America?i  Folk-Lore 


2.      THE  minister's  LAMENTATION^ 


III      I    IJ  -J5B^Ezz:SS5      ||    I     ^0 
J— l-zb — J— j-g'      '^  K^— j+gi— »  I  rJ      d  \-^ — ^^ 


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^^ 


1.  "  One  day,  while  in  a  lonely  grove, 

Sat  o'er  my  head  a  little  dove, 
For  her  lost  mate  she  began  to  coo, 
Which  made  me  think  of  my  mate  too. 

2.  "O  little  dove,  you're  not  alone. 

Like  you  I  am  constrained  to  mourn, 

For  once,  like  you,  I  had  a  mate. 

But  now,  like  you,  must  mourn  my  fate. 

3.  "Consumption  seized  her  lungs  severe, 

And  preyed  upon  them  one  long  year, 
Then  death  did  come  at  the  close  of  day, 
And  he  did  my  poor  Mary  slay. 

4.  "But  death,  grim  death,  did  not  stop  here,  — 

I  had  a  babe  to  me  most  dear,  — 
He  like  a  vulture  came  again, 
And  took  from  me  my  little  Jane. 

5.  "But,  bless  the  Lord,  the  word  is  given, 

That  babes  are  born  the  heirs  of  heaven ! 
Then  cease,  my  heart,  to  mourn  for  Jane,^ 
Since  my  small  loss  is  her  great  gain." 

Another  form  of  the  ballad  of  introspection  is  the  homiletic  ballad. 
Of  this  type  is  "The  Unfortunate  Rake,"  current  in  Ireland  as  early 
as  1790,  and  not  yet  extinct  in  England.  In  its  original  form,  it  is 
the  lament  of  a  dissolute  soldier,  dying  in  the  hospital,  who  regrets 
his  life  of  vice,  and  asks  for  military  honors. 

"Muffle  your  drums,  play  your  pipes  merrily, 
Play  the  dead  march  as  you  go  along. 
And  fire  your  guns  right  over  my  coffin. 

There  goes  an  unfortunate  lad  to  his  home." 

Preaching  is  foreign  to  the  mood  of  folk-song.  "The  Unfortunate 
Rake"  has  survived  as  a  result  of  textual  and  thematic  recreation. 
Out  of  it  have  grown  two  ballads,  entirely  distinct  in  subject,  as 
comparison  of  the  following  items  will  show. 

>  "The  Minister's  Lamentation,"  A.  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.  From 
O.  F.  A.  C.  Harrisburg,  Pa. 

»  Y.  Glomen,  "The  Dove,"  a  Welsh  ballad,  in  its  opening  stanza,  is  almost  identica 
with  the  opening  stanza  of  "The  Minister's  Lamentation,"  Journal  of  the  Welsh  Folk-Song 
Society,  vol.  i,  part  ii,  p.  70. 


Some  Aspects  of  Folk-Song 


277 


3.      THE    cowboy's   lament* 


:5==i: 


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5^ 


=r=_J      .1      1: 


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"Break  the  news  gently  to  my  dear  mother, 
Break  the  news  gently  to  my  sister  so  dear, 


Chorus. 


Beat  the  drum  slowly,  play  the  fife  lowly. 
Play  the  dead  march  as  you  carry  me  along, 

Take  me  up  to  the  graveyard,  and  lay  the  sod  o'er  me, 
For  I've  been  a  cowboy,  I  know  I've  done  wrong. 


But  when  I  returned,  the  spirit  had  left  him. 
And  gone  to  its  Giver,  the  cowboy  was  dead. 

Traces  of  the  homiletic  manner  are  still  current  in  some  versions,  a 
warning  to  shun  poker  and  whiskey.  At  the  same  time,  the  romantic 
suggestion  is  increasingly  p  rominent.     The  other  ballad  is  as  follows :  — 

4.     THE  maiden's  lament' 

I.  "Come,  dear  mother,  sit  down  alongside  of  me, 
Come,  dear  mother,  and  i)ity  my  case, 
For  my  head  it  is  aching,  my  poor  heart  is  breaking, 
For  sad  lamentation,  I  know  I've  done  wrong!" 


Chorus. 


Then  you  may  beat  at  your  drums  as  you  play  your  fifes  merrily, 

Play  your  dead  march  as  you  carry  me  on, 
Take  my  body  to  the  old  rhiircliyard  and  throw  the  so<ls  o'er  me, 

For  I'm  a  young  maiden,  I  know  I've  done  wrong. 

2.   "Send  fur  (In-  minister  to  pray  over  me, 


Send  for  the  young  man  that  I  first  went  a-courting. 
That  I  may  see  him  before  I  may  die." 

>   "The  CdwlKiy'sLamrnt."  M,  Folk-.SonRs  of  the  North  .Mlnntic  States.      From  II.  I..  W.. 
Caml>ri(lK<*.  MaM. 

•  Comp.-irc   "The   DyitiR  Cowtxjy,"   in   G.    V.   Will.    "S<)iik«  of   Western   Cowboys." 
Journal  of  American  folk-I^re,  vol.  xjtii,  pp.  258,  359, — 

"  But  there  is  another,  more  dear  than  a  mother, 
WhocI  bitterly  weep,  if  she  knew  I  were  here." 
»  "The  Nfaidcn'fl  Lament."  A.  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.      From  A.  C. 
Antixonish,  N.  S. 


278 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


That  "The  Unfortunate  Rake"  is  the  original  of  both  ballads,  is 
evident  from  the  retention  of  the  request  for  a  military  funeral, 
equally  absurd  for  maiden  or  cowboy. 

An  instance  of  a  new  ballad  made  through  continued  communal 
re-creation  on  the  part  of  folk-singers  is  the  well-known  cowboy  song, 
"The  Lone  Prairie."  The  following  version  is,  by  its  very  brevity 
and  suggest! veness,  particularly  effective. 

5.      THE   LONE   PRAIRIE' 

1.  Oh,  a  trapper  lay  at  the  point  of  death, 
And,  short  his  bank  account,  short  his  breath. 
And  as  he  lay,  this  prayer  breathed  he, 
"Oh,  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie!" 

2.  "Oh,  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie. 
Where  the  wild  coyote  can  howl  o'er  me, 

Where  the  rattlesnakes  hiss  and  the  winds  blow  free. 
Oh,  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie!" 

3.  But  they  heeded  not  his  dying  prayer. 

On  the  lone  prairie,  they  buried  him  there. 

Where  the  rattlesnakes  sing,  and  the  wind  blows  free. 

They  buried  him  there  on  the  lone  prairie! 

This  piece  has  many  of  the  characteristics  of  the  ballad  of  situation. 
Its  prototype,  widely  current  in  the  Eastern  States,  is  much  more  of 
the  type  of  the  ballad  of  introspection. 

6.      THE  OCEAN-BURIAL'' 


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I,  "Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea!" 
These  words  came  faint  and  mournfully 
From  the  pallid  lips  of  a  youth  who  lay 
On  his  cabin  couch,  where  day  by  day, 

'  Professor  H.  M.  Bcldcn,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  this  version,  writes  of  it,  "I  first 
heard  this  from  an  engineer,  who  had  learned  it  in  the  Kansas  oil-fields." 

»  "  The  Ocean  Burial,"  C,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  Slates.  From  O.  F.  A.  C. 
Harrisburg,  Pa.  A  text  of  this  ballad,  which  may  be  the  archetype,  ascribed  to  Capt. 
\V.  H.  Saunders,  is  in  Choice  Readings  (ed.  R.  I.  Fulton  and  T.  C.  Trueblood),  p.  169. 
Another  tradition  ascribes  the  authorship  to  Rev.  E.  N.  Chapin. 


Some  A  spects  of  Folk-Song  279 

He  had  wasted  and  pined,  until  o'er  his  brow, 
The  death  sweats  had  slowly  passed,  and  now, 
The  scenes  of  his  fondly  loved  home  was  nigh, 
And  they  gathered  around  him  to  see  him  die. 

2.  "Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea, 

Where  the  billow's  shroud  shall  roll  o'er  me, 

Where  no  light  can  break  through  the  dark,  cold  wave, 

Or  the  sun  shine  sweetly  upon  my  grave ! 

Oh,  it  matters  not,  I  have  oft  been  told. 

Where  the  body  is  laid,  when  the  heart  grows  cold, 

But  grant  ye,  oh,  grant  ye  this  boon  to  me, 

Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea! 

3.  "  In  fancy  I've  listened  to  the  well  known  words, 

Of  the  free  wild  winds  and  songs  of  birds, 

I've  thought  of  my  home,  my  cot  and  bower, 

And  the  scenes  which  I  loved  in  my  childhood's  hour. 

Where  I've  ever  hoped  to  be  laid  when  I  died, 

In  the  old  churchyard  by  the  green  hillside. 

Near  the  home  of  my  father,  my  grave  should  be, 

Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea! 

4.  "Let  my  death  slumbers  be  where  a  mother's  prayer 

And  a  sister's  tears  can  be  blended  there. 

For,  oh,  't  will  be  sweet,  when  this  heart  throb  is  o'er, 

To  know,  this  fountain  shall  gush  no  more, 

For  those  who  I've  earnestly  wished  for  would  come, 

And  plant  fresh  wild  flowers  o'er  my  tomb. 

If  pleased  those  loved  ones  should  weep  for  me. 

Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea! 

5.  "And  there  is  another,  whose  tears  might  be  shed. 

For  him  who  lies  low  in  the  ocean's  bed. 

In  hours  that  it  pains  me  to  think  on  now. 

She  has  twined  these  locks,  she  has  kissed  this  brow. 

The  hair  she  has  wreathed  will  the  sea  snake  hiss. 

The  heart  she  has  jjressed,  will  wild  waves  kiss. 

For  the  siike  of  that  loved  one  who  wails  for  me. 

Oh,  bury  me  not  in  the  deep,  deep  sea! 

6.  "She  has  been  in  my  dreams"  .  .  .  And  his  voice  failed  there. 

And  they  gave  no  heed  to  his  dying  prayer. 

But  they  lowered  him  slow  o'er  (he  vessel's  side. 

And  above  him  cNjsed  the  solenm  tide. 

Where  to  dip  her  wings,  the  sea  fowl  rests, 

Where  the  blue  waves  dash  with  their  foaming  crests. 

Where  the  billows  do  bound,  and  the  wind  siK)rts  free. 

They  buried  him  there  in  the  deep,  deep  sea! ' 

'   Thf  text  of  "  The  Lont-  Prairie."  from  MS.  of  G.  VV..  loaned  by   Professor    Bclden, 
has  in  the  refrain,  in  place  of  the  first  four  lines  of  stanza  a.  above,  — 
"O  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie. 
Where  the  wild  coyote  will  howl  o'er  ine, 
Where  the  cold  windo  sweep  and  the  KraHses  wave. 
No  sunbeams  rest  on  a  prairie  grave." 


28o 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


A  word  in  passing  may  not  be  amiss,  concerning  the  part  of  the 
folk-singer  in  the  re-creation  of  melodies.  It  is  well  known  that 
folk-melodies  are  of  simple  structure,  for  the  most  part,  with  a  constant 
tendency  toward  greater  simplicity.  The  accompanying  melody  to 
another  version  of  "The  Ocean  Burial"  will,  upon  comparison  with 
the  form  of  the  air  from  which  it  has  been  derived,  illustrate  this  fact. 


THE   OCEAN-BURIAL  1 


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The  history  of  the  well-known  parlor  song,  "Come  back  to  Erin," 
now  well  established  as  an  Irish  folk-song,  affords  further  evidence. 
The  original  air,  of  complicated  structure,  and  quite  artificial  in 
manner,  has  been  re-created  as  a  folk-melody,  many  characteristic 
sets  of  which  doubtless  exist.  Two  may  here  be  printed,  showing  the 
manner  in  which  changes  for  improvement,  due  to  folk-singing,  arise. 

7.    COME   BACK   TO   ERIN 
I2 


;<-^  *^U-:J^^£fl 


In  place  of  the  last  four  lines  on  p.  279,  the  same  version  of  "  The  Lone  Prairie"  has,  in 
stanza  5,  — 

"May  the  light  winged  butterfly  pause  to  rest, 
O'er  him  who  sleeps  on  the  prairie's  crest, 
May  the  Texas  rose  in  the  breezes  wave, 
O'er  him  who  sleeps  in  a  prairie  grave." 
The  poetic  beauty  of  this  thought  could  hardly  be  exceeded. 

'  "The  Ocean  Burial,"  A,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlanlic  Slates.     From  W.  L.  S., 
Boston,  Mass. 

*  "Come  back  to  Erin,"  B,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.     From  E.  J.  C, 
Boston,  Mass. 

•  "Come  back  to  Erin,"  D,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  Slates.     From  A.  C, 
Antigonish,  N.  S.,  as  sung  by  an  Irish  girl  in  Boston,  Mass. 


Some  Aspects  of  Folk-Song 


281 


The  fact  that  folk-song  deals  with  the  lights  as  well  as  with  the 
shadows  of  human  experience  and  fancy,  makes  roo  m  for  an  element 
of  the  humorous  as  well  as  of  the  serious.  Not  to  speak  of  extrava- 
ganzas of  imagination,  such  as  "The  Derby  Ram,"  or  "The  Wonderful 
Hunter,"  many  folk-songs  exist  whose  merit  is  in  their  faculty  of 
raising  a  laugh.  In  particular,  mention  may  be  made  of  the  large  class 
of  songs  at  the  expense  of  the  aged  spark  and  his  flirtations.  Some 
forms  of  this  theme  verge  on  the  coarse;  innocent  humor  alone  is  in 
the  following  song. 

8.      THE   bachelor's    COMPLAINT' 


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1 — I — V 


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1.  Once  I  heard  an  old  bachelor  say 
When  his  hair  was  turning  gray, 

"  I  wonder  what  the  matter  can  be 
That  all  the  pretty  girls  so  dislike  me!" 

2.  "  I've  tried  the  rich  and  I've  tried  the  poor, 
And  many  a  time  I've  been  kicked  out  of  door, 
I've  tried  silver,  and  I've  tried  gold. 

And  many  a  lie  in  my  life  I  have  told. 

3.  "  Three  good  horses  I  rode  them  to  death, 
I  rode  them  as  long  as  they  had  breath, 
Three  good  saddles  rode  bare  to  the  tree, 
Trying  to  find  the  girl  that  would  marry  me."  ^ 

4.  He  wept  and  he  mourned  and  he  wailed  and  he  cried, 
And  in  this  condition,  this  bachelor  died. 

And  if  he  lies  here,  I  fear  he'll  come  to  life. 
And  still  be  a-trying  to  get  him  a  wife. 

5.  Come,  all  ye  pretty  fair  maids,  come  gather  aroimd, 
And  put  this  okl  bachelor  under  the  ground. 

For  if  he  lies  here,  I  fear  he'll  come  to  life, 
And  still  be  a  trying  to  get  him  a  wife. 

'  "The  Bachelor's  Complaint,"  B.  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.  From 
H.  L.  \V.,  Canibridgp,  Ma!W. 

'  The  followiiiK  linrs  from  "Tlie  Bachelor's  Complaint."  A  ^from  J.  C,  \'incland, 
N.  J.),  arc  worthy  of  rtTord  here. 

4.  He  ro<lc  nine  hor.ses  all  to  death, 

He  rotle  them  till  they  was  out  of  breath. 
He  rode  hi.i  saddle  bare  to  the  tree. 
And  not  one  pretty  Kir'  would  marry  he! 

5.  "Now,  RirN,  I'm  a  dyinK  man. 
Don't  you  wish  they'd  married  me. 
Darn  the  Rirln.  wherever  they  Ix-. 

I  hi>t)e  they'll  die  for  the  love  of  me!" 


282 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


In  closing,  it  may  be  said  that  the  music  of  folk-song  constitutes 
one  of  its  greatest  charms.  Not  only  have  many  ballads  been  kept 
alive  by  the  rare  beauty  of  their  melodies;  but  it  is  not  too  much  to 
affirm  that  certain  of  the  best  ballads  (as,  for  instance,  "Chevy- 
Chase")  which  have  perished,  failed  to  survive  because  they  were  set 
to  melodies  which  were  neither  pleasing  nor  characteristic.  For  their 
beauty's  sake,  the  following  melodies  are  put  in  evidence. 


9.      MELODIES 

(a)  Remember  the  Poor ' 


Hexatonic. 


^ 


^ 


F=^ 


zMznt 


-_M-^ 


Jtt 


■z^ 


%-^ 


{b)  Barbara  Allen  ^ 


^M 


4: 


3^ 


9.=3=^T=^^^ 


■? 


M: 


?=it 


-=; — N- 


^^ 


a=p: 


22^ 


«=* 


■V — 4 


^-   -J-    '  * 


{c)  Silver  Dagger ' 


Pentatonic. 


4=^ 


i= 


-i     #     t^ 


J=B=^5 


3=T3=XQ 


P^ 


=T: 


-* — r 
(d)   The  Dawning  of  the  Day  * 


Lydian. 


*  Melody  from  A.  M.  B.,  Providence,  R.  I. 

'  "  Barbara  Allen,"  G,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.  From  A.  C,  Antigonish, 
N.  S. 

'  "The  Silver  Dagger,"  A,  Folk-Songs  of  the  North  Atlantic  States.  From  H.  L.  W., 
Cambridge,  Mass. 

*  MS.  of  Henry  Hudson,  M.D.  (Allen  A.  Brown  Collection,  Boston  Public  Library, 
No.  M,  3740,  7.  Melody  449,  from  Paddy  Conneely,  a  Galway  piper.)  According  to  Irish 
tradition,  this  air,  of  which  a  number  of  sets  exist,  was  originally  the  composition  of 
O'Connallon,  the  noted  Irish  harper. 


Some  Aspects  of  Folk-Song 


283 


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Of  these  melodies,  the  first  three  are  structurally  typical  of  the 
English,  Scottish,  and  Irish  types  of  folk-music.  The  fourth,  a  par- 
ticularly fine  example  of  an  Irish  air,  is  further  noteworthy  from  the 
fact  that  it  is  partially  cast  in  the  Lydian  mode, 


i 


survivals  of  which  in  folk-music  at  the  present  day  are  extremely  rare.' 

Felton  Hall, 
Cambridge,  Mass. 

'  "Fair  Phoebe,"  Journal  of  the  Folk-Song  Society,  vol.  iv,  p.  131,  is  a  Lydian  air. 
The  Irish  air  "Eoghan  Coir"  exists  in  three  sets.  —  one  of  them  Lydian,  one  Mixoiydian, 
and  one  Ionian.  —  showing  the  development  from  the  archaic  to  the  modern  mode. 


284  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


NOTES  AND  QUERIES 

Maryland  and  Virginia  Folk-Lore. — The  following  stories,  super- 
stitions, and  folk-remedies  were  taken  down  just  as  they  were  related  to  me. 
Nos.  2  and  4  were  told  by  a  Virginia  mulatto,  with  features  strongly  re- 
sembling those  of  an  Indian. 

1.  How  the  Colored  Folk  came  into  Existence.  —  Once  'pon  a  time  ole  Nick 
got  lon'som'  down  in  his  dominyun,  so  he  tho't,  "I'll  go  hup  and  pay  a 
visit  on  Arth,  and  see  how  teese  dar'.  So  hup  'e  come,  en  the  fust  thing  he 
seed,  wuz  a'  Ape.  "Lo'd  a  mussy!"  sezee,  "w'at  kind  o'  man  is  dis?  I 
hain't  got  none  o'  dem  kine  down  in  my  qua'ters,"  sezee,  "en  dat'll  neber 
do  'tall."  So  hup  'e  prances  ve'y  pompous-like,  en  sezee,  "Howdy!" 
en  de  Ape  he  say  nufin  'tall,  den  'e  keeps  on  a  axin'  un  heeps  o'  questions; 
en  de  Ape  he  say  nufin  'tall,  den  he  keeps  on  wid  mo'  questions;  and  de  Ape 
he  say  nufin  'tall  agin.  Den  Mistah  Sautin  he  sto'm,  he  sto'm,  and  den  he 
cussed  de  Ape,  en  low  en  'hold  de  Ape  dun  en  dar  tu'n'd  to  a  brack  man. 
En  dat's  how  de  w'ite  man  dun  'count  fo'  de  niggah  bein'  on  'Arth, 

2.  How  the  Colored  Man  obtained  his  Well-  Known  Sobriquet  of  "  Coon."  — 
Dar  wuz  once  ar'  slave-holder  who  'ad  five  'undred  slaves,  en  he  'ad  'un 
he  tho't  heeps  ub,  'hose  name  'uz  John;  so  dis  yhar  John,  w'en  he  tho't  dar 
wuz  eny  thin'  his  moster  wanted,  'e'd  teke  hit  en  go  yide  hit,  so  'is  moster 
coodn't  fin'  hit,  en  'is  moster  'uld  hunt  'round  en  axt  de  uder  slaves,  en  dey 
cu'dn't  fin'  hit;  den  'e'd  ax  John  'uld  put  one  han'  in  'is  pocket,  en  scratch 
'is  yead  wid  de  uder  han',  en  say,  "Wait  a  minnite,  moster,  lemme  thin'!" 
den  'e'd  say,  "  Moster,  come,  I  think  I  kin  tell  chew  rite  war's  's  hit.  I's 
a  fo'chume  tellah,  I  is;"  en  he  go  rite  en  put  'is  hans  on  hit.  So  he  keeps 
on  fee  yeahs,  ebry  think  wuz  de  same  way;  en  de  moster  tho't  he  wuz  suah 
nufT  a  fo'chume  tellah.  So  one  day  de  moster  wuz  at  some  kinner  high 
feast  or  uder,  dar  wuz  a  hole  lot  of  high  fo'ks,  wealthy  gemums,  an  dey 
gotter  bet' in';  twell  de  moster  bet  twell  'e'd  dun  bet  all  'is  prop'rty,  all  'is 
slaves,  dat  dis  John  ub  his  co'ld  tell  wars  every  think  dey  hid  wuz,  an  'e 
bet  all  'e  'ad  til'  he  didn't  hab  nufin  'tall  lef. 

Den  dese  uder  gemums  sed  dey'd  git  un  ub  dcse  ya'h  raccoons;  en  de 
moster  sed  'e  didn't  karah,  dey  cood  get  anythink  dey  chooze.  So  dey 
coutch  a  rac-coon,  en  put  hit  undar  ar  bar'l,  on  de  lawn;  den  dey  sent  fees 
John,  en  'e  came;  en  de  moster  sed,  "Look  yar,  John,  I's  dun  bet  my  fo'- 
chume on  chew,  now.  I  want  chew  to  tell  usuns  w'at's  under  dot  ar  bar'l 
dar;"  en  co'se  John  didn't  know,  kaze  'e  'adn't  put  hit  dar  hisself,  en  'e'd 
al'ays  hid  de  uder  fings;  so  sezee,  "Deed,  moster  Jones,  John's  sick,  'e 
can't  tell  no  fo'chumes  chew  day."  But  de  moster  'e  'sisted,  en  sed, 
"John,  I  wants  yousc  chew  I's  bet  my  'hole  fo'chumes  on  youse"  —  "But, 
deed,  Moster  Jones,  I's  sick  chew  day,  I  is,  en  con't  tell  no  fo'chumes  chew 
day,"  sez  John,  sezee.  "  I  know,  John,  but  yo'  must  do  hit,"  sez  de  moster, 
sezee.  Den  John  keeps  on  a  foolin'  dat  way,  'e  duze,  twell  presently  de 
moster  say,  sezee,  "  Ef  youse  don't  tell  me  w'ats  undali  dat  ar'  bar'l,  I'lls 


Notes  and  Queries  285 

make  hit  rite  wid  chew;"  den  John  knew  ef  'e  didn't  tell  w'at  wuz  undah 
dat  are  bar'l  'is  nioster  wud  kill  'im.  So  'e  tho't,  "John,  hits  all  hup  wid 
chew."  Ub  co'se  he  didn't  know  w'at's  undah  dat  bar'l,  kaze  'e  didn't 
put  hit  dar. 

Well,  de  nigger  'e'd  been  in  de  'abbit  ub  callin'  hisse'f  "coon."  So  'e 
went  to  de  bar'l,  en  helt  'is  arms  up  over  de  bar'l,  en  sez,  sezee,  "Rite 
yhar  on  dis  yhar  bar'l  youse  dun  got  dis  coon,  dis  day,"  and  fell  postated. 
Den  dey  all  shouted  and  cheered,  en  de  moster  pick  'im  up  on  'is  shoulders 
en  rum  round  en  round  wid  John,  kaze  'e  dun  won  all  dat  ar  money  fee  'im; 
an  eber  since  dat  ar  day  de  niggar  hez  al'ays  been  called  de  "coon,"  en 
dey  al'ays  takes  hit  ez  ar  good-luck  name,  kaze  it  dun  sabe  one  niggar  life."  ' 

3.  A  Negro's  Explanation  of  the  Currents  of  Hot  Air  one  sometimes  feels 
uhen  passing  along  a  Country  Road  at  Night.  —  This  story  was  told  me  by  an 
old  negro  rich  in  ghost-stories  or  stories  of  "  hants,"  as  he  termed  them,  and 
is  all  I  ever  succeeded  in  recording  from  him.  "Dis  heah  hot  air  dat  yo's 
feels  w'en  yo's  gwine  along  at  nights,"  said  he,  "yo's  felt  dem  habn't  yo'? 
Well,  daze  de  ole  people's  hants  passin'  long,  passin'  long;  en  ef  yo'  gits 
down  on  yo'  'nees,  yo'li  see  dem,  des  a  passin'  rite  'long,  passin'  rite  'long." 

4.  IIow  Mistah  Yhar's  probi'ed  dat  Mistah  Fox  uz  'is  Riden  Hoss.  —  Der  uz 
two  gerls,  en  Mistah  Fox  en  Mistah  Yhar  'uz  a  coatin  'uh  dem.  Dey  'uz 
dare  two  escoats;  en  ebry  time  Mistah  Yha'r  'd  fo  chew  seed  de  gerls,  en 
Mistah  Fox  'uzn't  dar,  dey'd  keep  er  axin  him,  "Whar's  Mistah  Fox?" 
en  tellen'  him  'bout  Mistah  Fox,  —  dat  Mistah  Fox  sez  dis,  en  Mr.  Fox  sez'd 
dat.  So  Mistah  Yha'r  kin'er  crossed  'is  legs,  en  sed,  "Youse  all  keeps  a 
talkin'  'bout  Mistah  Fox.  Mr.  Fox  is  my  riden-hoss  in  wed  wedder." 
I^n  de  gerls  didn't  blccb  him;  so  w'en  Mistah  Fox  comes  de  next  day,  deys 
tole  'im  'bout  hit,  en  w'at  Mistah  Yhar'd  done  sed;  so  'e  goes  back  ter  se' 
Mistah  Yhares  en  git  arter  'im  'bout  hit;  so  den  Mistah  Fox  tried  ter  make 
'im  b'leev  'e  tho't  dat  de  gerls  'us  a  makin'  fun  ub  'im,  en  sed  to  Mistah 
Yhar',  "Come,  let's  go  down  ar  chew-morrow  en  probvc  hit  den."  So 
Mistah  Yhar'  sezs  "All  rite."  En  w'en  de  next  mo'nin'  come,  Mistah  Yhar' 
tole  Mistah  Fox  that  'e  wuz  sic'  en  coodn't  walk  der;  so  den  Mistah  Fox  sed 
e  tole  'im,  en  Mistah  Yhar'  sed,  "All  rite,"  but  'e  must  hab  a  saddle  fcr  to 

'hfjle  hi'se'f  on  by,  a  switch  fer  to  steddy  'is  han',  en  a  brine  bridle;  so 
Mistah  Fox  sed  'e'd  git  all  ub  dem  den,  but  'e  hab  chew  git  off  w'en  dey 
was  ncarh  dar.  Kn  Mistah  Yhar'  said,  "All  rite!"  en  whilst  Mistah  Fox 
wuz  a  giten  dczes  thinks,  Mr.  Yhar'  'uz  screden  a  pa'r  spers  'bout  'is  pussin; 
••n  w'en  Mistah  Fox  come,  'e  gits  on  en  way  dey  goes.  Drcckly  Mistah 
I-'ox  sez,  "What  youse  doin'.  Brer  ^'har'?"  —  "I  dis  cz  fixcn  my  foot  in  dc 
^rerip.  Brer  Fox."  Prcscn'ly  Mistah  Fox  sez,  "W'at's  youse  doin',  Brer 
\'har'?"  —  "Nufin'  but  turnin'  my  pancc-lcg  down," — en  all  de  lime  'c 
wti/  a  piitiin'  on  dc  spcrs.  Prcscn'ly  dey  got  ncah  chew  dc  howoozc;  en 
Mistah  I'ox  sezs,  "(iit  down!"  en  Mistah  ^'har'  sezs,  "Oh,  pleaz'  take  mc  a 
little  bit  farder.  I'h  s<»  monstru's  weak  I  ran'l  git  'long."  So  (\vn  Mistah 
I*"ox  went  on  twill  he  got  ncahly  chew  (ie  house;  den  Mistah  Fox  sed.  "Now  git 
down."  Kn  did  dat  Mistah  Yhar'  'e  slapped  dem  spers  inter  'im,  en  came 
plump  down  on  'im  wid  dat  switch,  en  made  Mistah  I'ox  go  a  flyin' down  de 

'  Sec  note  3.  p.  351. 


286  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

road,  rite  pass  de  gerls;  den  Mistah  Vhar'  hollcr'd  out,  "See,  ladies,  I  don' 
tole  use  (lat  Mistah  Fdx  wuz  my  riden-hoss."  P2n  de  gerls  larf  twill  dey 
putty  nigh  cried,  en  Mistah  Yiiar  'e  jumped  rite  off  at  de  doer;  en  Mistah 
Fox  was  do  'suited  en  mity  cut  up  like  dat,  'e  des  kept  rite  on  down  de  road 
to  de  wood,  en  waited  twill  Mistah  Yhar'  come  'long;  en  arter  Mistah  Yhar' 
sit  en  talk  wid  de  gerls,  'e  went  on  down  de  road;  'e  knewed  what's  comin', 
en  Mistah  Kox  comes  out  en  grabs  Mistah  Yhar'  en  zes  'e's  gwinter  kill  'im. 
Mistah  Yhar'  sez,  "Oh,  pleaz'  don't  kill  me  now.  Brer  Fox,  en  Fll  show 
use  war's  some  nice  swate  honey  is."  Den  Mistah  Fox  thinks  'e'll  find 
out  whar's  de  honey  fust,  so  Mistah  Yhar'  takes  'im  to  de  bee-tree,  en  tells 
'im  to  put  'is  head  in  chew  de  hollar  en  des  he'p  hisse'f;  en  whilst  Mistah 
Fox  wuz  tryin'  chew  eat  de  honey,  de  bee  stung  'im  so,  twill  'is  head  dun 
'menced  chew  swell  so  dat  'e  coodn't  git  it  outer  de  hollar,  so  'e  den  tole 
Mistah  Yhar'  to  pleaz'  chew  go  arter  de  Docto;  en  Mistah  Yhar'  wen'  ofT 
down  chew  de  branch  en  rolled  en  skipped  en  jumped,  en  rolled  en  skipped 
en  jumped,  en  rolled  en  skipped  en  jumped,  en  den  come  back  en  tole  Mistah 
Fox  dat  de  Docto  sed  dat  'e  coodn't  come,  en  sed  de  Docto  sed,  "Whar 
hans  can't  go,  heads  no  bizness."  Den  Mistah  Fox  'menced  to  beg  Mistah 
Yhar'  ter  pleaz  go  back  arter  de  Docto';  en  Mistah  Yhar'  sed,  "I  yeads  a 
pack  of  houns."  So  den  Mistah  Fox  jucked  'is  head  outer  de  hollar  en 
tow  'is  head  all  up,  en  dat  wuz  de  last  ub  'im;  en  Mistah  Yhar'  dodn't  mit 
no  mudder  edder. 

5.  Why  February  hasn't  Thirty  Days.  —  In  Job's  time,  dah  'uz  thutee  dazes 
enda  'e  'uz  bone  on  de  thueeaht;  but  'e  'ad  sich  er  pestcahn  time,  dat  'e 
gist  natchilly  prayed  onteah  de  gud  Lawed  teah  maahk  'is  buahth-day  outah 
de  cal'dah;  teah  gist  pleez  teah  anzer  dis  yeah  um  praah  ub  'is'h's,  Enda 
de  gud  Lawed  anzered  dat  un  ub  'is  praahs  end  dah  ain't  nebah  bin  no  Thu- 
teeaht  ub  Feb'rary  sinch."  (It  may  be  well  to  explain  that  my  informant 
gave  the  sound  of  ah  to  most  of  her  r's.) 

Mary  Walker  Finley  Speers. 
Earleigh  Heights  on  Severn, 
Maryland. 


TIM-    JOURXAI.  OF 

AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE 

Vol.  XX\'.  — UCT01?KR-DKCFMRI:R,  1912  —  No.  XCVIII 


TRADITIONS   OF 


THL    LILLOOET    INDIANS   OF    BRITISH 
COLUMBIA 


BY    JAMES    TEIT 


Contents 


I.  Traditions   of    the    "Rkai.    Lil- 

looet"  (theLillet-o'l).  .    292 

1.  A'tse'niet;   or,    The   Story    of 

the  Transformers 292 

2.  The  Boy  and  the  Sun 296 

The  Frog  Sisters 298 

Beaver  and  Eagle 299 

.   The  Fire  People;  or.  The  Man 

who  introduced  Fire 300 

Origin  of  Light  and  Fire  ....  300 
The    Salmon    Men;    or.    The 

Origin  of  Salmon 303 

Coyote 304 

The  Man  who  had  a  Branch 

for  a  Wife 309 

Glacier  and  Chinook-Wind  .  .  310 
Wren;     or.     The     Chain     of 

Arrows 311 

The  Mosquitoes  and  Thunder  311 

Wren 312 

Owl 314 

The  Girl  and  the  Dog 316 

Raven 317 

Bald- Headed  FCaglc 318 

Thf  Slave  who  married  Bald- 

Ih-ad's  Daughter 319 

The    Grizzly- Bears    and    the 

Black- Bears 321 

.  The  Male  Grizzly- Bear 323 

Fawn 325 

The     Lad     who     killed     hU 

(Viusin 326 

Nkimtramu'l 327 

The  Man  who  got  Four  Wives  328 

The  Ghott-Mothcr 320 

Story  of  the  Sisters 331 

The    Medicine-Man    and    his 

Sweetheart  ...  .  332 
Tclmtclml'kln  .  .  .  .  m 
The  LfKin  and  the  Woman  .  .  334 
The  F'uithless  Wife 335 

VOL.   XXV. — NO.  98.  — 19 


287 


PACB 

31.  The  Squint-Eyed  Woman;  or. 

The   Man  who  obtained  a 
New  Head 336 

32.  The  Gambler 338 

33.  The  Woman  who  was  impaled 

on  a  Tree-Top 339 

34.  Brother  and  Sister 340 

35.  The  Flood,  and   Distribution 

of  People 342 

36.  The     Poor     Man;     or.     The 

Origin  of  Copper 343 

37.  The  S'ii'innux 344 

38.  The    Ilaitlo'laux     and     Wolf 

People,    Ancestors    of    the 
Liluet'6'1 346 

Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  of 

THE  Lakes 350 

39.  Coyote 350 

40.  The  Black-Bear  Brothers.  . .  .    350 

41.  Tsu'ntia 350 

42.  (a)  Nke'olstfm  (firsl    vfrsion)  35a 

42.  (b)      NkJ'olsttm,     or     N<i*'- 

qaumstem     Myth     {second 
version) 354 

43.  (a)   Raven;    or.    How     Death 

can)e  into  the  World 356 

43.  (/>)  Raven  and  Old-One. or  Chief  356 

44.  Origin  of   Bands  of   Northern 

Shuswap  living  next  to  the 
Lill<MH't  <jf  Fra-M-r  River.  .  .    357 

45.  Porcupine;  or.    The  Story  of 

Deer 358 

46.  Thf  Man  who  lived  with  the 

B.ar 360 

47.  Origin     of     the     Lillooet    and 

Bridge  River  Pe»>ple    361 

48.  Oiigin     of     the     Sklmqal'n 

I'eo|)le 364 

49.  Origin  of  the  Fountain  People  368 

50.  Komakitl'mut 369 


288  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

[The  fi)ll()\ving  collection  of  traditions  was  made  by  Mr.  James 
Teit  during  his  researches  on  the  ethnology  of  British  Columbia. 
After  Mr.  Teit  had  closed  his  work  for  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedi- 
tion of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History  and  some  other 
incidental  work,  Mr.  Homer  E.  Sargent  of  Chicago  became  interested 
in  Mr.  Teit's  \aluablc  in\cstigations,  which  he  has  liberally  supported 
during  the  last  six  years.  The  present  paper  is  one  of  the  results  of 
the  researches  thus  conducted. 

The  comparative  notes  which  will  be  found  in  the  paper  have  been 
added  by  the  editor.  Only  the  material  relating  directly  to  Salish 
mythology  has  been  included  in  these.  A  fuller  discussion  does  not 
seem  advisable  until  all  the  collected  material  relating  to  the  folk-lore 
of  the  Northwestern  plateaus  and  (jf  tiie  North  Pacific  coast  has  been 
published. 

The  principal  interest  of  the  Lillooet  folk-lore,  aside  from  the  psycho- 
logical character  of  the  traditions,  is  found  in  the  light  which  it  throws 
upon  the  process  of  dissemination  of  tales.  While  the  folk  tales  and 
myths  of  the  Thompson  Indians,  who  with  the  Lillooet  belong  to  the 
inland  branches  of  the  Salish  family,  are  not  very  deeply  afifected  by 
the  traditions  of  the  coast  Indians,  and  while  they  rather  belong  to  the 
group  of  tales  and  myths  characteristic  of  the  Northwestern  plateaus, 
the  Lillooet  tales  show  a  strong  infusion  of  coast  elements.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  traditions  of  the  Lower  Thompson  Indians,  who  inhabit 
that  part  of  the  Eraser  River  Canyon  adjoining  the  Eraser  River  Delta. 
The  collections  made  among  the  coast  tribes  by  myself,  and  later  on  by 
Mr.  Charles  Hill-Tout,  show  clearly  the  close  relationship  between  the 
myths  and  tales  of  all  the  tribes  living  around  the  Gulf  of  Georgia  and 
those  of  other  coast  tribes.  The  Lillooet  and  the  Lower  Thompson 
Indians  have  adopted  from  these  tribes  the  whole  group  of  ancestor 
legends,  which  are  entirely  absent  in  the  interior,  and  which  are  char- 
acteristic of  the  social  organization  of  the  coast  tribes  that  have  village 
communities  claiming  descent  from  a  single  ancestor;  while  in  the 
interior  no  such  subdivision  of  the  tribes  exists.  The  incidents  belong- 
ing to  the  coast  folk-lore  have  been  pointed  out  in  the  comparative 
notes  accompanying  Mr.  Teit's  collection  of  traditions.  It  is  interest- 
ing to  follow  the  gradual  dissemination  of  the  transformer  myths,  tell- 
ing of  a  group  of  several  culture-heroes  who  travel  through  the  country 
together,  freeing  the  land  of  monsters,  and  giving  man  his  arts.  In 
the  interior  their  place  is  taken  by  the  Coyote;  but,  as  has  been  pointed 
out  before  both  by  Mr.  Teit  and  l)y  myself,  the  idea  of  the  group  of 
transformers  has  penetrated  far  into  the  interior.  Everywhere,  how- 
ever, the  opinion  is  clearly  expressed  that  in  reality  these  transformers 
belong  to  the  coast,  and  that  their  deeds  east  of  the  Eraser  River 
Canyon  were  a  trespass  on  the  territory  which  belonged  properly  to 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      289 

Coyote  and  to  Old-One.  Several  of  the  Thompson  River  traditions 
end  with  the  statement  that  at  the  request  of  Coyote,  the  coast 
transformers  retired  to  the  coast,  and  left  the  countr>-  to  him  to  be 
put  into  proper  shape. 

In  regard  to  these  points  the  report  of  a  conversation  between  Mr. 
Teit  and  a  Lillooet  over  eighty  years  old  will  be  of  interest.  Mr.  Teit 
describes  this  conversation  as  follows:  — 

"My  informant  said  that  in  the  beginning  the  inhabitants  of  the 
world  had  animal  characteristics.  It  is  doubtful  whether  at  that  time 
real  animals  and  real  people  existed  as  we  know  them  to-day.  The 
world  was  ver>'  sparsely  settled.  .\  numi)er  of  transformers  gave  the 
world  its  present  shape,  and  transformed  the  beings  of  the  m\thical 
period  into  real  people  and  real  animals.  These  transformers  tra\elled 
all  over  the  world  for  this  purpose.  .\(jne  of  them  was  born  in  the 
Lillooet  country.  The>'  were  strangers,  most  of  whom  caine  from  the 
coast  region.  Among  these  was  the  mink.  There  is  no  story  which 
accounts  for  the  origin  of  the  Lillooet  tribe  as  a  whole,  although  some- 
times it  is  claimed  that  the  Lillooet  are  descendants  of  the  Black- 
Bear-W'oman's  children.'  It  is  said  that  Black-Bear  and  Crizzly-Bear 
lived  with  tiuir  husband  on  the  east  side  of  Fraser  Ri\er,  north  of 
L>tton,  probabK'  in  Botani  X'alley.  .^fter  the  young  Black-Bears  had 
killed  the  \'oung  Cirizzl>-Bears,  the\'  escaped,  and  crossed  Fraser  River 
somewhere  between  Lytton  and  Lillooet,  and  took  refuge  in  the  Lil- 
Ifxjet  country  near  Pemberlon.  They  became  the  ancestors  of  people 
speaking  the  Lillooet  language,  and  their  descendants  sjiread  up  and 
down  the  ri\ers  from  this  p(;int,  intermarr\ing  with  the  m\thical 
inhabitants;  that  is,  the  semi-animal  people  of  the  Lillooet  country. 
Others  say  that  the  yoimg  Black- Bears  became  the  Transformer 
brothers,  the  Qoa'qlqwEtP  (=  "smiling")  o{  the  Thompson  Indians, 
and  that  later  on  they  visited  the  'Thotupson  count r\',  ascending  the 
Fraser  Ri\er  from  the  Delta  ui)vvar(l. 

"  Ever\  band  of  tin-  Lillooet  originated  from  tin-  union  of  a  man  with 
one  of  the  semi-animal  inhabitants  of  the  coimtr\',  pirliaps  from  ani- 
mals. Most  of  the  traditions  inform  us  that  a  Lillooet  man  went  olT 
and  marri».-<l  one  or  mort-  animal  ]>co|)lc  uliom  lu-  found  inhabiting  a 
certain  part  of  the  (oimtry;  and  the  band  that  now  inhabits  this  sj)ot 
claims  descent  from  these  ancestors.  Thus  the  .\ndirson  Lake  people 
arc  descendants  of  two  ( irizzU -Brar  sisters.  Most  of  ilu-  members  of 
the  Pemberlon  band  are  descendants  of  two  men  who  li\ed  at  the 
places  known  as  Ti;zi'l  and  l.e(|ts,  wheri*  one  marrii-d  a  bear,  the  other 
a  giant.  The  original  inhabitants  of  Port  I  )oMglas  are  dex  tiidants  of  a 
Lillooet  man  who  marri«'d  a  si-al  wom.m,  who  bc^re  him  a  son  and  a 

'  Sm-  pj).  .{JJ  and  ,<5i>.  >  l-rom  .h-<jwi/uI  i"  to  Hniilc"). 


290  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

daughter.  The  Bridge  River  people  are  descendants  of  a  black  bear;* 
those  of  SetL,-  of  a  frog;  and  those  of  Seaton  Lake,  of  a  Sa'tuEN  (a 
crane-like  bird).  The  Seshelt  tribe  are  in  part  descendants  of  a  man 
and  a  jiorpoise  (?)  woman.  Some  of  the  Seshelt  are  Lillooet  by  origin. 
Their  ancestors  were  a  part>-  of  Lilhjoet  who  descended  to  the  coast, 
and  who  continued  to  sjieak  Lillooet  until  about  1850.  They  lived 
at  Ha'nitci'.n.  The  Tlahu's  tribe,  who  nowadays  speak  the  Comox 
language,  are  in  part  descendants  of  Chilcotin  who  settled  on  the  coast. 
It  is  said  that  in  early  days  the  people  of  this  tribe  dressed  and  adorned 
themselves  like  the  Chilcotin  of  the  interior. 

"  TheShuswapand  Thompson  Indians  are  said  to  have  been  originally 
descendants  of  Coyote;  and  some  Lillooet  claim  that  all  the  people  of 
the  southern  interior  were  of  this  descent,  while  the  people  of  the 
northern  interior  were  descendants  of  the  bear  or  deer.  The  Fountain 
tribe''  are  descendants  of  Coyote  and  his  wives,  Alder  and  Cottonwood.* 
Some  people  claim  that  all  the  Indians  of  the  interior,  and  perhaps 
all  the  people  of  the  whole  world,  are  descendants  of  Coyote  and  these 
two  women. 

"There  are  two  springs  —  one  hot  and  one  cold  —  near  Skookum 
Chuck,  in  the  Lower  Lillooet  district.  They  were  a  married  couple 
whom  the  Transformer  changed  into  springs  at  their  own  request. 
They  said,  '  Let  us  be  two  springs,  one  hot  and  one  cold,  side  by  side. 
People  who  bathe  in  us  and  drink  our  water  will  become  well.'  An- 
other spring  or  brook  near  Lillooet  was  formerly  a  woman  who  asked 
the  Transformer  to  be  transformed  into  water,  asking  that  the  people 
should  drink  of  her  to  be  made  healthy." 

The  following  abbreviations  for  citations  have  been  used  in  the 
{ootn,otes:  — 

George  M.  Dawson,  Notes  on  the  Shuswap  People  of  British  Columbia, 

Proceedings  and  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Canada  for  iSgi, 

Section  II  of  Transactions  (Montreal,  1892),  pp.  3-44.     Cited  Dawson, 

Notes. 
Franz  Boas,  Indianische  Sagen  von  der  Nord-pacifischen  Kiiste  Amcrikas 

(Berlin,  1895),  363  pp.     Cited  Boas,  Sagen. 
James  Teit,  Traditions  of  the  Thompson  River  Indians  of  British  Columbia, 

Memoirs   of  the   American    Folk- Lore  Society,    vol.    vi    (1898).     Cited 

Teit,   Traditions. 
C.  HiLL-TouT,  "Sqaktktciiiaclt,"  or  the  Benign-Faced,  the  Oannes  of  the 

Nllakapamuq,   British   Columbia,    Folk-Lore,  vol.  x   (1899),   pp.    195- 

216.     Cited  Hill-Tout,  Folk-Lore. 

*  See  p.  360. 

'  See  p.  361;  also  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  96. 

»  See  p.  368. 

<  See  p.  357. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      291 

Livingston  Farrand,  Traditions  of  the  Chilcotin  Indians,  Publications 
of  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii  (1900),  pj).  1-54.  Cited 
F"arrand,   Chilcotin. 

C.  Hill-Tout,  Studies  of  the  Indians  of  British  Columbia,  Report  of  the 
6gth  Meeting  of  the  British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science 
(Dover,  1899),  pp.  497-584.     Cited,  Hill-Tout,  Report  i8gg. 

C.  Hill-Tout,  Notes  on  the  Sk'qo'mic  of  British  Columbia,  a  Branch  of 
the  Great  Salish  Stock  of  North  .America,  Report  of  the  70th  Meeting 
of  the  British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science  (Bradford, 
1900),  pp.  472-549.     Cited  Hill-Tout,  Report  IQOO. 

Livingston  Farrand,  Traditions  of  the  Quinault  Indians,  Publications 
of  the  Jesup  Xorth  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii  (1902),  pp.  77-132.  Cited 
Farrand,  Quinault. 

C.  Hill-Tout,  Report  on  the  Ethnology  of  the  Sl'ciatl  of  British  Columbia, 
a  Coast  Division  of  the  Salish  Stock,  Journal  of  the  Anthropological 
Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  vol.  x.xxiv  (1904),  pp.  20-91. 
Cited    Hill-Tout,    Anthrop.   Inst,   xxxiv. 

C.  Hill-Tout,  Report  on  the  StEe'lis  and  Sk'au'liis  Tribes  of  the  Hal- 
kome'lEm  Division  of  the  Salish  of  British  Columbia,  Ibid.,  pjK  311- 
376.     Cited  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxiv. 

('.  Hill-Tout,  Report  on  the  Ethnology  of  the  Stlallumii  of  British  Colum- 
bia, Ibid.,  vol.  XXXV  (1905),  pp.  1 26-2 1 S.     Cited  Anthrop.  Inst.  xxxv. 

1  RANZ  Boas  and  George  Hunt,  Kwakiutl  Texts,  Publications  of  the  Jesup 
North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  iii  (1905),  vol.  x  (1908).  Cited  Boas 
and  Hunt,   Kuakiutl  Texts,  iii,  x. 

C.  Hill-Tout,  Report  on  the  Ethnology  of  the  South-Eastern  Tribes  of 
Vancouver  Island,  British  Columbia,  Journal  of  the  Anthropological 
Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  \ol.  xxxvii  (1907),  pp.  306-374. 
Cited  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxvii. 

James  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  Publications  of  the  Jesup  North  Pacific  Ex- 
pedition, vol.  ii  (1909),  pp.  443-789.     Cited  Teit,  The  Shusu-ap. 

James  Teit,  Mythology  of  the  Thom|)son  Indians,  Ibid.,  vol.  viii  (191 2), 
pp.  218  et  seq.     Cited  Teit,  .Mythology. 

The  niatcrial  has  been  arranj^ccj  in  two  groups,  the  first  Rroiip  con- 
taining traditions  ajllectcd  among  the  "  real  Lillooet,"  the  Liliiet-O'I, 
who  arc  located  around  Pcmbcrton  Meadows;  the  second,  traditions 
of  (he  Lillooet  of  the  Lakes'  (Lexair'xanuix),  —  of  Anderson  and 
Seaton  Lakes.  riie  collec  lion  made  i)y  Mr.  1  fill-Tout  (Anthrop.  Inst. 
xxxv)  is  from  the  Lower  Lillooet,  at  the  upper  end  of  Harrison  Lake, 
a  Kr<'Up  which  is  very  much  nnxed  with  tlu"  Delta  tribes.  I'or  this 
reason  his  lollcc  tion  contains  more  coast  elements  than  Mr.  Teit's 
collection.  I  lia\c  pointed  out  ^  that  the  colh'ction  which  I  obtained 
on  Marrison  River  in  Hriiish  Cohinibi.i,  .iiid  w  hi<  h  belongs  to  the  I  )clta 

'  Sec  Teit.  The  l.tll>->fl.  I'uhlicaliom  of  the  Jtnip  SKrih  Pacific  lix ptdition ,  vol.  li, 
p.  196. 

*  Boa.i,  Sagtn,  p.  19. 


292  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

group,  contains  nian\    Lillooet  elements.     The  same  is  true  of  the 
traditions  collected  by  Mr.  Hill- Tout  in  the  delta  of  I-Vaser  Ri\cr.' 

Editor.] 

1.     TRADITIONS  OF  TlIK  "  RI:AL   LII.LOOKT  "    (TIIF.   LILri:T-0'L) 
I.   a'tse'mel;   or,  the  story  of  the  transformers ^ 

Four  brothers,  called  the  A'tse'inel,  came  up  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Fraser  River.  They  were  accompanied  by  their  sister,'  who  was 
endowed  with  magic,  and  also  by  another  transformer  called  Sqaix.'' 
It  is  said  that  these  people  came  from  some  place  on  the  coast,  and 
entered  the  interior  by  way  of  the  Fraser  River,  for  the  purpose  of 
putting  things  to  rights  in  the  world,  and  killing  everything  that  was 
bad.  These  six  persons  were  gifted  with  magic  in  a  high  degree, 
and  they  travelled  by  canoe. 

After  performing  many  wonderful  deeds  on  their  way  up  the  Fraser 
River,  they  entered  the  Harrison  River,  and  camped  a  few  miles 
above  where  the  Tcehe'lEs  tribe  live.  Here  abode  a  wicked  woman 
who  was  gifted  with  magic,  and  who  killed  many  men.^  Sqaix  said  he 
would  go  alone  and  visit  the  woman;  but  the  brothers  told  him  he  had 
better  avoid  her  until  the  next  day,  when  they  would  all  go  together. 
Sqaix  answered,  ".  Why  should  I  avoid  her?  No  one  is  superior  to  me 
in  magic."  So,  when  the  others  slept,  he  went  to  her  house.  He  said 
to  her,  "  Why  have  you  no  husband?  It  is  bad  for  you  to  be  alone. 
I  am  seeking  a  wife,  and  wish  to  have  you."  She  answered,  "  Let 
me  alone,  and  do  not  make  me  feel  ashamed  by  talking  in  that  way." 
But  Sqaix  insisted,  and  tried  to  do  violence  to  her.  His  hand  was 
caught  by  her  organs,  and,  since  he  was  unable  to  withdraw  it,  he  had 
to  cut  it  off  above  the  wrist. 

He  felt  ashamed,  went  home,  and  lay  down.  In  the  morning  the 
others  told  him  to  get  up,  but  he  would  not  rise.  They  asked  him  to 
show  his  hands,  and  he  showed  them  one  hand.  They  said,  "  Show 
us  the  other  one;"  and  he  changed  his  hand  to  the  other  side  of  his 
body,  and  showed  it  again.  They  knew  what  had  happened,  and 
laughed  at  him.  Then  they  went  to  the  woman's  house,  and  the 
brothers  tried  to  transform  her;  but  in  vain,  for  she  was  equal  to  them 

'  Anthrop.  Insl.  xxxiv,  pp.  Sii-ST^J. 

'  Compare  also  No.  37,  p.  344;  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  i  (Shuswap),  16  (Thompson  Indians), 
19  (Fraser  Delta).  47  (Cowichan),  56  (Squamish),  63  (Comox);  Hill-Tout,  Report  iqoo, 
p.  518  (Sk.qo'mic-Squamish);  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  42  (Thompson);  Teit,  Myf/io/ogy,  pp.  218 
el  seq.  (Uta'mqt),  315  et  seq.  (Nicola  Valley);  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  pp.  644  et  seq.;  Dawson. 
Notes. 

*  It  is  claimed  by  some  that  the  sister  was  more  gifted  in  magic  than  the  others. 

*  Some  say  this  was  mink.     Qaix  denotes  the  mink  in  the  coast  dialects. 

*  See  Boas,  Sagen,  p.  24  (F"rascr  Delta). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      293 

in  powers.  Therefore  they  asked  their  sister  to  help  them;  and  she 
pushed  her  hand  and  arm  into  the  woman's  organs.  When  she  pulled 
them  out  again,  the  woman  died  at  once. 

After  some  time  the>'  arri\ed  halfway  up  Harrison  Lake,  where  they 
saw  a  house  in  which  lived  an  old  man  named  S'c.xei.'  They  entered 
his  house,  and  talked  to  him  jokingl>-,  as  if  he  were  a  child.  He  be- 
came angry,  and  said,  "  Why  do  you  talk  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  child? 
I  am  an  old  man,  and  more  experienced  than  you,  who  are  young." 
Leaxing  their  sister  in  the  house,  they  proposed  to  the  old  man  that 
they  should  walk  up  the  mountain-side  to  see  who  could  climb  best. 
When  the>-  were  quite  a  distance  away,  the  old  man  caused  a  heavy 
fall  of  snow,  fastened  on  his  snow-shoes,  which  he  had  hidden  under  his 
clothes,  left  the  brothers,  and  walked  home. 

It  took  the  others  three  days  to  wade  through  the  deep  snow  to  the 
house;  and  as  soon  as  they  reached  it,  the  snow  all  disappeared. 
Then  they  asked  the  old  man  to  take  them  up  the  lake  in  his  canoe, 
which  was  very  small.  They  all  embarked,  and  the  old  man  paddled. 
When  they  had  gone  some  distance,  they  tried  to  frighten  him,  saying, 
"  See  that  monster  coming  underneath  the  canoe!  "  He  looked,  and 
said,  "  That  is  nothing.  It  is  only  the  shadow  of  the  mountain-tops 
moving  on  the  waves."  Then  they  said,  "  See  that  man  paddling 
underneath  the  canoe!  "  The  old  man  answered,  "  It  is  nothing, 
only  my  shadow  paddling."  Then  Sqaix  changed  himself  into  a  mink 
and  went  down  through  the  water.  The  others  told  the  old  man  to 
look.  He  said,  "  That  is  nothing.  All  kinds  of  animals  swim  in  the 
lake."  Then  Sqaix  changed  himself  into  a  weasel,  and,  entering  the 
canoe,  ran  up  over  the  old  man's  legs.  The  brothers  said,  "  Look  at 
that  bad  animal!"  But  the  old  man  answered,  "That  is  nothing. 
I  can  easily  kill  it  with  m\'  paddle." 

Now  they  reached  a  |)lare  called  S'a'ia.  wiuri'  thcrr  wa>  a  long 
sandy  beach.  Here  they  |)roposed  to  run  the  old  man  a  race.  Tlicy 
were  to  run  to  the  end  of  the  beach  and  back  again.  They  left  their 
sister  in  the  canoe,  and  began  to  race.  The  old  man  beat  them,  antl 
reached  the  canoe  again  while  the  others  were  yet  far  awa>'.  Then  he 
caused  a  calm  with  intense  heat  to  come,  which  made  his  opponents 
hardly  able  to  walk.  At  last  they  sat  down,  overcome  by  the  heat. 
S(i  the  old  man  said  to  the  woman,  "  W'c  will  take  the  canoe  to  meet 
them,  for  they  are  tired."  Then  he-  ni.ule  a  bree/e;  and  the  brothers 
and  S(iaix,  feeling  refreshed,  proposed  to  the  old  man  that  they  should 
go  U()  the  mountain  to  gather  cedar-braiuhes.  When  he  turned  around 
to  look  at  the  mountain  they  proposed  to  climb,  the  sister  threw  on 
his  back  the  paint  she  had  used  when  pubescent;  antl  he  was  immc- 
•diately  turned  into  a  stone,  whi<  h  may  be  seen  at    the  prisent  day.* 

•  Sff  Boas.  Snnen,  p.  31  (Fraurr  Delia). 

'  This  id  the  celebrated  Dr.  Stone  on  llarriM)!)  I.aki-. 


294  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

After  this  they  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake,  to  where 
S'cxei's  wife  lived.  Her  name  was  Skaiya'm.^  They  turned  her  and 
her  canoe  into  stone,  fcu"  she  was  a  wicked  woman. 

The  Transformers  then  proceeded  on  their  voyage,  and  entered  the 
Lower  Lillooet  River.  They  proceeded  slowly  up  this  river,  and  per- 
formed many  wonderful  feats,  killing  and  transforming  bad  people, 
and  making  bad  parts  of  the  country  better. 

At  last  they  arrived  halfway  up  Lillooet  Lake,  on  the  west  side  of 
which  they  saw  a  house  in  front  of  which  a  pregnant  woman  was 
standing.  They  asked  her  where  her  husband  was,  and  she  pointed 
to  him  on  the  lake-shore,  where  he  was  engaged  trying  to  catch  fish 
with  two  sticks.-  The  fish  would  pass  between  the  sticks.  Then  he 
would  take  them  out  and  wipe  the  slime  off  them  with  grass,  and  try 
again.  This  man's  name  was  Stsop;  and  the  Transformer  asked  him 
what  he  was  doing.  He  answered,  "  I  am  poor  and  ignorant,  and 
know  not  how  to  catch  fish.  I  try  to  catch  them  in  the  manner  you 
have  just  seen,  but  can  never  capture  any."  They  said,  "  What  do 
you  eat?  "  and  he  answered,  "  We  gather  grass  and  boil  it  in  a  basket, 
and  eat  it  when  it  is  cooked."  They  noticed  that  the  man  carried  a 
long  knife  on  his  back,  with  strings  of  eagle's  feathers  attached  to  the 
handle  and  sheath,  and  asked  him  what  he  used  it  for.  He  said, 
"  When  my  wife  becomes  very  large  with  child,  I  take  this  knife,  cut 
open  her  belly  with  it,  and  take  out  the  child. ^  My  wife  always  dies. 
Thus  I  have  had  many  wives."  They  said,  "  We  will  teach  you  how 
to  do  things  right,  so  that  future  generations  in  this  country  shall 
now. 

They  crossed  the  lake,  and  pulled  hairs  out  of  their  legs  from  below 
the  knee,  which  they  threw  on  the  ground:  spa'tsan-bushes  *  grew  up 
at  once.  They  stripped  the  bark  from  some  of  them,  went  to  the  man 
and  his  wife,  and  showed  them  how  to  prepare  it,  twist  it  into  twine, 
and  weave  it  into  nets.  They  made  a  dip-net  for  him,  and  showed  him 
how  to  fish  with  it.  Everything  ihey  did  they  made  the  couple  do 
themselves,  so  that  they  should  really  know  how  to  do  it.  Then  one 
of  the  brothers,  unperceived  by  the  man  and  his  wife,  changed  himself 
into  a  salmon,  and  entered  the  man's  net.  The  man  landefl  it,  and 
the  other  brothers  showed  him  how  to  cut  it  up.     They  lighted  a  fire 

*  Boas,  Sagen,  gives  a  full  version  of  the  Kaia'm  story  (pp.  28-30),  printed  again  by 
Hill-Tout  (Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxv,  pp.  177-189)  with  Indian  text.  The  full  story  belongs 
clearly  to  the  P'rasor  Delta  and  to  the  Lower  Lillooet  (see  also  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  283 
[Uta'mqt]). 

'  Some  say  with  llie  hamlle  of  a  dip-net  (see  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  318). 
'  See  Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  222,  317;  Teit,   The  Shuswap,  p.  652;    Farrand,  Chilcotin, 
p.  II. 

♦  Not  the  spa'tsan-haxV.  of  the  Thompsons.  The  Lillooet  frequently  call  all  kinds  of 
bark  used  for  twine,  including  twine  obtained  from  the  whites,  spa'tsan  (see  Teit,  Myth- 
ology, pp.  227,  325;  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  651). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      295 

and  heated  stones.  Then  they  placed  a  large  basket  and  a  small 
basket  side  by  side,  and  filled  them  with  water.  They  put  the  fish 
in  ihe  large  one.  They  lifted  the  stones  with  tongs  and  dipped  them 
into  the  small  kettle  to  clean  them,  and  then  dropped  them  into  the 
large  kettle.  They  added  fresh  stones  until  the  fish  was  boiled;  then 
they  put  it  on  some  cedar-bark,  and  all  joined  in  eating  it.  They 
told  the  man  to  save  all  the  bones,  and  throw  them  into  the  water, 
which  he  did;  and  the  other  brother  returned  to  his  former  shape, 
and  joined  them.  Then  they  said,  "  Future  generations  shall  do  as 
we  have  shown.  They  shall  catch  and  boil  salmon,  and  eat  them 
instead  of  grass." 

When  the  man's  wife  came  to  be  delivered  of  her  child,'  the  sister 
took  bird-cherr>'  bark  and  tied  it  to  the  infant.  She  pulled  twice,  but 
the  string  broke  each  time.  She  tied  it  again,  and  on  the  third  pull 
the  child  came  out.  The  Transformers  said,  "  Future  generations 
shall  give  birth  to  their  children,  and  men  shall  no  longer  cut  their 
wives.  Occasionally  there  may  be  a  hard  birth,  when  the  child  must 
be  pulled  out."  Now  Scjai.x  said,  "  This  man  has  killed  many  women. 
He  ought  to  be  punished."  And  the  brothers  said,  "  He  should  be 
turned  into  stone,  so  that  future  generations,  by  seeing  him,  may 
remember  the  cause  of  his  transformation,  and  know  what  has  been 
ordained."  They  turned  him  into  a  stone,  which  may  be  seen  at  the 
present  day;  but  his  wife  and  his  newly-born  son  they  left  to  occupy 
the  place. 

Proceeding  up  the  lake,  the  Transformers  came  to  its  head,  into 
which  the  I'pjjcr  Lilhjoet  Ri\er  flows.  Here  there  was  flat  ground  like 
a  bog,  which  moved  up  and  down,  and  hindered  canoes  from  ascending 
the  river.  They  made  it  into  firm  but  swampy  land,  and  left  a  channel 
by  which  canoes  might  rea(  h  the  ri\er.  At  this  place  they  saw  a  man 
sitting  at  work,  finishing  the  handle  of  a  spear. ^  He  had  his  mouth 
puckered  up,  and  was  whistling  to  himself.'  They  asked  him  what  he 
was  doing,  and  he  answered,  "It  is  none  (A  your  business."  They 
asked  him  again,  and  he  said,  "  I  have  heard  of  these  Transformers 
coming,  and  I  am  making  this  spear  to  spear  thtiii  in  thi-  luck."  They 
said,  "  Let  us  see  the  s|)i'ar :  it  l«)oks  ver>'  nicf."  I  Ir  liaiuiid  it  to  them. 
Then  they  threw  him  into  the  water,  and  s|)farc(l  him  with  the  spear. 
They  siiid,  "  ^'^lur  name  shall  bi-  W'hitefish  {me'mclt),  and  future 
generations  shall  spear  you  in  this  manner,  and  eat  ><)U  as  Uhk\." 
The  whitefish  has  a  very  small  mouth,  because  he  was  whistling  when 
transformed. 

'   Sc«r  Trit,  Mythology,  pp.  323.  317. 

»  Most  Indians  say  it  was  a  Ihrcc-prongcd  spear:  some  nay  il  was  two-pronged  (•ee 
Tcit.  Mylhology.  p.  336  (I  'ta'auitl).  A  very  common  incident  of  the  ("uUtiro-Hero  myth  of 
the  coast  (see  Boas.  Saurn,  pp.  4C1  (Cuwichan).  56  (S<juamish).  64  (Coniox).  <j3  (Nutka). 
300  (Ncwcttee);  Hoas.  Chinook  Texts,  p.  30;  Furrand.  {}uinault,  p.  85. 

»  Sec  Tcit.  Mythology,  p.  331. 


296  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Tlu'  Transformers  contiiiiK'd  (luMr  journcN-  up  the  Lillooct  River 
to  a  place  near  Pemberton,  and  then  up  the  Pole  River  until  they 
reached  a  place  on  that  river  known  as  Salmon- House.'  Here  they 
saw  a  man  leaning  forward,  and  gazing  intently  into  the  water.  They 
asked  him  what  he  was  looking  at,  and  he  answered,  "  It  is  nothing 
to  you."  They  watched  him,  and  saw  that  he  was  catching  fish  with 
his  hands.  He  caught  one,  and  they  asked  him  how  he  ate  it.  He 
never  answered,  hut,  putting  the  fish  to  his  mouth,  began  to  eat  it  raw. 
They  transformed  him  into  a  fish-hawk  {yoxala'),  and  said,  "  Hence- 
forth people  shall  not  catch  fish  with  their  hands,  nor  eat  them  raw." 

Ascending  the  river,  they  passed  its  source,  and  came  near  to  the 
lake  called  Tseka'lenal,  at  the  source  of  the  stream  that  empties  into 
the  head  of  Anderson  Lake.  Here  they  went  up  on  some  rocks  near 
where  the  old  Indian  trail  passes,  and  sat  down  to  rest.  One  brother 
went  away,  and  returned  from  the  south,  dressed  in  cedar-bark  painted 
red,  and  carrying  cedar-bark  and  other  things  in  a  bundle  on  his  back. 
Another  brother  went  away,  and  returned  from  the  east,  dressed  only 
in  a  breech-clout,  and  carrying  on  his  back  a  bundle  of  5pa/5an-bark 
and  other  things.  When  they  appeared  to  view,  the  other  Trans- 
formers hailed  the  one  from  the  south  as  Li'luet,-  and  the  one  from 
the  east  as  Sba'tLemux,  saying,  "  Henceforth  the  Li'luet  shall  go  to 
the  Fraser  in  the  SLa'tLemux  country  to  buy  salmon  and  spatsan-ha-vk, 
and  the  SLa'tLemux  shall  visit  the  Li'luet  to  trade  with  them.  Then 
one  of  the  Transf(jrmers  stamped  his  foot  on  the  rock,  and  left  the 
imprint  of  his  sole,  saying,  "  This  footprint  shall  mark  this  spot  as  the 
tribal  boundary  l)etween  the  Li'luet  and  the  SLa'tLemux"  [the  Upper 
and  Lower  Lillooet].     The  footprint  may  be  seen  at  the  present  day. 

It  is  not  certain  where  the  Transformers  went  after  this,  but  it  is 
said  they  returned  again  to  their  own  country,  by  way  of  Pemberton 
and  Green  Lake,  to  the  Squamish.^ 

2.    THE    BOY    AND   THE    SUN " 

There  was  once  a  boy  who  made  himself  obnoxious  to  the  people  by 
constantly  stealing  their  food.  The  chief  told  the  poeple  to  leave 
their  house  and  desert  the  boy.  They  ordered  some  other  boys  to 
induce  the  thief  to  go  with  them  while  the  people  made  ready  to  depart. 

'  Three  miles  or  more  from  Pemberton  Indian  village.  It  is  a  famous  fishing-place  of 
the  Liluet-o'l. 

*  That  is,  the  Lower  Lillooet. 

*  Some  say  they  did  not  require  to  travel  through  the  Upper  Lillooct  country,  as 
Coyote  and  Kokwe'la  travelled  through  there  (see  p.  350). 

*  See  "Tale  of  the  Bad  Boy;  or.  The  Sun  and  the  Lad,"  in  Teit.  Traditions,  pp.  51,  52; 
Teit.  Mythology,  p.  230  (Uta'mqt);  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  17  (Thompson),  19  (Fraser  Delta); 
Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxv,  p.  201  (Lower  Lillooet);  Hill-Tout,  Report  igoo,  p.  532 
(Squamish). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      297 

These  boys  said,  "  Let  us  go  and  search  for  wood  to  make  bows  and 
arrows."  On  reaching  a  densely  wooded  place,  they  said,  "  We  will 
separate  here,  and  search,  that  we  may  the  sooner  find  good  wood;  but 
we  will  continue  to  whistle  to  one  another,  so  iliat  we  ma>'  all  know 
one  another's  whereabouts." 

When  the  boys  were  out  of  sight,  they  eased  themselves  in  several 
places,  and  then  hurried  away  to  overtake  the  people.  After  they 
had  gone,  their  excrements  continued  to  whistle,  so  the  thief  thought 
that  his  companions  were  still  near  b>-.  Having  found  some  good 
wood,  he  called  on  the  other  boys  to  come,  but  heard  no  reply  except 
the  whistling.  He  searched  for  them,  and  at  last  found  they  had  gone, 
and  that  the  sounds  proceeded,  not  from  them,  but  from  their  excre- 
ments. 

Then  the  thief  hurried  home,  because  it  was  late;  but,  upon  arriving 
at  the  village,  he  found  all  the  people  gone.  He  was  hungry,  and 
searched  all  the  houses  for  food,  but  found  none.  Returning  to  his 
parents'  house,  he  saw  a  basket  upside  down  in  a  corner.  He  thought 
some  food  might  be  there,  so  he  kicked  it  over  with  his  foot.  He  found 
his  grandmother  sitting  underneath.  He  was  angry,  because  he  would 
rather  have  found  food  than  her;  but  she  cried  out  that  he  should  not 
kick  her,  as  she  might  be  of  much  ser\ice  to  him. 

The  grandmother  had  a  cedar-bark  match,  which  she  gave  him  to 
light  a  fire.  After  warming  themselves,  she  asked  him  to  shoot  mice 
to  eat.  He  did  this,  and  they  lived  on  what  vermin  he  killfci.  She 
asked  him  to  shoot  birds,  and  she  would  make  a  robe  of  their  skins.  He 
shot  very  many  bright-plumaged  birds,  and  the  old  woman  made  him  a 
very  large  and  handsome  robe.  She  uAiX  him  to  make  a  spear  of  cedar- 
wood.     He  did  this,  and  speared  some  fish. 

One  day  Sun  saw  him  fishing  with  his  cedar-wood  spear,  and,  noticing 
the  beautiful  blanket  he  wore,  thought  he  would  try  to  obtain  it  from 
him.  Sun  was  dressed  in  a  goat-skin  blanket  with  long  fringe.  He 
approached  the  boy,  and  offered  to  exchange  robes  with  him;  but  the 
boy  declined.  Sun  said,  "  "S'ou  do  not  know  the  value  of  my  robe.  It 
can  catch  far  more  fish  than  your  spear."  Then  Sun  placed  the 
fringe  of  his  n)be  in  the  water,  and  caught  a  fish  on  each  tassel.  When 
the  boy  saw  this,  he  exchanged  robes  with  Sun.  lie  was  now  able  to 
catch  great  (luantilies  of  fish,  wliii  li  he  dried,  and  with  which  he  tilled 
many  houses,  cellars,  and  dr\  ing-|)oles. 

The  people  of  the  village,  who  were  (ani|)ed  a  loni;  w.i\s  olT,  had 
been  unsuccessful  hunting  and  fishing,  and  were  now  on  tiie  \ergc  of 
starvation.  One  of  them.  Raven,  left  them,  and  rtturned  to  the 
village,  where  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  boy  living  in  aOluence. 
The  boy  .saw  Raven,  and  threw  some  fish  at  him,  whii  h  he  ^hidly  ate. 
Next  day  Raven  came  again,  and  asked  the  lad  for  some  lish  to  take 


298  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

home  to  his  children.  He  was  given  three  fish,  which  he  took  away, 
and  kept  until  the  other  people  had  gone  to  bed.  When  all  was  quiet, 
he  gave  them  to  his  children;  but  they  quarrelled  and  made  a  great 
noise:  so  the  people  heard  them,  and  said,  "  Raven's  children  must  be 
eating  something  good."  They  went  to  his  house  and  asked  him  what 
his  children  had  been  eating;  and  he  told  them,  "  Moss."  They  did 
not  believe  him,  and  made  up  their  minds  to  watch  next  night.  On 
the  third  day,  Raven  went  to  the  lad  again,  and  asked  him  for  more 
fish.  Again  he  was  given  three,  which  he  took  home  for  his  children. 
That  night  Raven's  children  quarrelled  again  when  they  were  fed. 
The  people  ran  in,  caught  them  eating,  and  made  them  disgorge  by 
pressing  their  throats.  They  found  that  the  food  was  fish:  so  they 
asked  Raven  where  he  got  it.  He  told  them  the  whole  story,  and  the 
people  at  once  broke  camp  and  returned  to  the  village,  where  the  boy 
feasted  them  on  fish  till  they  were  satisfied. 

The  lad  became  a  great  fisherman,  and  the  people  of  the  village 
thus  never  lacked  an  abundant  supply  of  fish.  The  chief  gave  him  his 
daughter  to  wife,  and  the  lad  afterw^ards  became  chief. 

Before  Sun  obtained  the  boy's  robe,  he  was  pale;  and  his  light  was 
faint,  like  that  of  the  moon;  but  thenceforth  he  became  bright  and 
dazzling,  because  he  wore  the  boy's  bright  and  many-colored  robe. 

3.     THE    FROG    SISTERS 

The  three  Frog  sisters  had  a  house  in  a  swamp,  w^here  they  lived 
together.  Not  very  far  away  lived  a  number  of  people  in  another 
house.  Among  them  were  Snake  and  Beaver,  who  were  friends. 
They  were  well-grown  lads,  and  wished  to  marry  the  Frog  girls. 

One  night  Snake  went  to  Frog's  house,  and>  crawling  up  to  one  of 
the  sisters,  put  his  hand  on  her  face.  She  awoke,  and  asked  him  who 
he  was.  Learning  that  he  w'as  Snake,  she  said  she  would  not  marry 
him,  and  told  him  to  leave  at  once.  She  called  him  hard  names,  such 
as,  "  slimy-fellow,"  "  small-eyes,"  etc.  Snake  returned,  and  told  his 
friend  of  his  failure. 

Next  night  Beaver  went  to  try,  and,  crawling  up  to  one  of  the  sisters, 
he  put  his  hand  on  her  face.  She  awoke,  and,  finding  out  who  he  was, 
she  told  him  to  be  gone.  She  called  him  names,  such  as,  "  short-legs," 
"  big-belly,"  "  big-buttocks."  Beaver  felt  hurt,  and,  going  home,, 
began  to  cry.^  His  father  asked  him  what  the  matter  was,  and  the  boy 
told  him.  He  said,  "  That  is  nothing.  Don't  cry!  It  will  rain  too 
much."     But  young  Beaver  said,  "  I  unll  cry." 

'  See  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  35  (P'rascr  Delta),  79  (Comox);  Boas  and  Hunt,  Kwakiutl  Texts, 
p.  318;  Boas,  Kathlamet  Texts,  p.  23;  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxiv,  p.  37  (Seshelt); 
Hill-Tout,  Report  i8qq,  p.  78  (Thompson);  Hill-Tout,  Ibid.,  1900,  p.  548  (Squamish); 
Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  230  (Uta'mqt),  333  (Nicola). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     299 

As  he  continued  to  cry,  much  rain  fell,  and  soon  the  swamp  where 
the  Frogs  lived  was  flooded.  Their  house  was  under  the  water,  which 
covered  the  tops  of  the  tall  swamp-grass.  The  Frogs  got  cold,  and 
went  to  Beaver's  house,  and  said  to  him,  "  We  wish  to  marry-  your 
sons."     But  old  Beaver  said,  "  No!     You  called  us  hard  names." 

The  water  was  now  running  in  a  regular  stream.  So  the  Frogs  swam 
away  downstream  until  they  reached  a  whirlpool,  which  sucked  them 
in,  and  they  descended  to  the  house  of  the  Moon.  The  latter  invited 
them  to  warm  themselves  at  the  fire;  but  they  said,  "  No.  We  do  not 
wish  to  sit  by  the  fire.  We  wish  to  sit  there,"  pointing  at  him.  He 
said,  "  Here?  "  at  the  same  time  pointing  at  his  feet.  They  said, 
"  No,  not  there."  Then  he  pointed  to  one  part  of  his  body  after  an- 
other, until  he  reached  his  brow.  When  he  said,  "  Will  you  sit  here?  " 
they  all  cried  out,  "  Yes,"  and  jumped  on  his  f^ice,  thus  spoiling  his 
beauty.  The  Frog's  sisters  may  be  seen  on  the  moon's  face  at  the 
present  day.' 

4.     BE.WER  AND   EAGLE  ^ 

Beaver  and  Eagle  lived  with  their  sister  in  the  Lillooet  country. 
They  had  no  fire,  and  ate  their  food  raw.  The  sister  cried  and  com- 
plained constantly,  because  she  had  no  fire  at  which  to  roast  her  dried 
salmon-skins.  At  last  the  brothers  took  pity  on  her,  because  she 
cried  so  much,  and  said,  "  Don't  cry  any  more!  We  will  procure  fire 
for  you.  We  will  train  ourselves  for  a  long  time,  and  during  our 
absence  you  must  be  very  careful  not  to  cry  or  complain;  for,  if  you 
do,  we  shall  fail  in  our  object,  and  our  training  will  be  fruitless." 

Leaving  their  sister,  the  brothers  repaired  to  the  mountains,  where 
they  spent  four  years  training  themselves.  At  the  expiration  of  that 
time,  they  returned  to  their  sister,  who  had  never  cried  during  their 
absence,  and  told  her  they  would  go  to  procure  fire,  as  thc\'  now  knew 
where  it  could  be  found,  and  how  they  could  obtain  it. 

After  five  days*  journeying,  they  arrived  at  the  house '  of  the  people 
who  possessed  fire.  Then  one  brother  drew  over  himself  an  eagle's 
body,  and  the  other  cjne  a  beaver's  bod>'.  The  latter  dammed  the 
creek  near  by,  and  that  night  made  a  hole  underneath  the  people's 
house.  Next  morning  he  swam  around  in  the  water  made  1)>-  the  dam, 
and  an  old  man  saw  him  and  shot  him.  He  took  him  into  the  house, 
and,  laying  him  beside  the  fire,  told  the  people  to  skin  liim.  While 
they  were  skinning  him,  they  came  on  something  hard  uiidirneath 
his  armpit.     This  was  a  clam-shell,  which  Bca\er  had  hidden  there. 

•  Sec  Tcit,  Tradilions,  p.  91;  Boas.  Sanen,  p.  15  (ShU3wap);  Tcil,  7V«f  Shuswap,  p.  053; 
Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  229  (IJlS'inqt).  330  (Nicola). 

»  See  Teit.  Traditions,  p.  56;  Teit.  Mythology,  pp.  229  (Uta'mqt),  338  (Nicola);  Boas, 
Sagen,  p.  42  (Fraser  Delta);  11  ill-Tout,  Report  iSijij,  p.  65. 

»  Moat  informants  aKrec  that  the  liuuse  was  an  underground  house,  which,  according 
to  some,  was  at  a  place  near  the  sea. 


300  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Just  then  the  people  noticed  a  very  large  and  fine-looking  eagle 
perili  on  a  tree  near  by.  They  were  anxious  to  kill  him  to  get  his 
plumes:  so  they  all  ran  out  and  began  to  shoot  at  him,  but  none  of 
them  could  hit  him.  When  they  were  thus  engaged,  Bea\er,  who 
was  now  left  alone,  jnit  some  of  the  fire  in  his  clam-shell,  and  escaped 
through  the  hole  he  had  made.  He  soon  reached  the  water,  which 
was  now  almost  at  ilu-  house,  and  swam  awa>'  with  his  prize. 

As  soon  as  Eagle  saw  that  his  brother  was  safe,  he  flew  away  and 
joined  him.  They  continued  their  journe>'  home.  Eagle  resting  him- 
self on  Beaver's  back  when  tired.  The\-  brought  the  fire  home  and 
gave  it  to  their  sister,  who  now  became  \er\'  ]iapp\-  and  contented. 

5.     THE    FIRE    PEOPLE;    OR,    THE    MAN    WHO    INTRODUCED    FIRE 

A  man  who  lived  on  the  Lower  Lillooct  River  had  a  daughter  who 
refused  all  suitors.  The  people  said,  "  Perhaps  you  wish  the  man  ^ 
who  lives  in  the  east  to  be  your  husband."  This  man,  who  lived  in  a 
very  distant  country,  heard  what  they  said,  and  came  and  took  the 
girl  for  his  wife.  She  went  home  with  him,  and  some  time  afterward 
gave  birth  to  a  son.  While  the  boy  was  yet  a  child,  his  father  said  to 
his  wife,  "  Let  us  go  and  visit  your  people."  A  large  number  of  the 
husband's  people  accompanied  them  on  their  journey.  They  were 
warlike,  and  endowed  with  magic  and  the  "  mystery  "  of  fire.  When 
they  arrived  on  the  Lower  Lillooet  River,  instead  of  acting  in  a  friendly 
manner,  they  attacked  the  people  there,  and  killed  a  great  many  of 
them,  and  then  returned  home. 

When  the  boy  grew  to  be  a  man,  he  said,  "  I  must  pay  my  mother's 
people  because  they  were  slaughtered  by  my  father's  people."  He 
went  to  his  mother's  country  and  gave  therh  a  present  of  fire,  which 
was  at  that  time  unknown  to  them.  He  possessed  the  magic  of  fire, 
and  could  make  fire  appear  at  any  time  or  place  he  wished.  By 
commanding,  he  could  make  a  house  take  fire  a  long  way  off.  The 
shaman  called  Napoleon,  of  the  Lower  Lillooet  River,  learned  his 
secret  of  making  fire  appear  when  he  wished  by  supplicating  these 
Fire  people,  for  he  had  them  for  his  manitou,  and  had  thus  learned  some 
of  their  magic. 

6.     ORIGIN    OF    LIGHT    AND    FIRE 

Raven  and  Sea-Gull  were  friends,  and  lived  in  the  Lillooet  country. 
Their  houses  were  close  together.  Raven  had  four  servants;  namely, 
Worm,  Flea,  Louse,  and  Little-Louse.^     It  was  dark  all  over  the  world 

'  Some  say  he  was  a  chief  who  was  related  to  Thunder;  others  say  he  was  the  Sun; 
while  still  others  say  he  was  just  an  ordinary  man  who  was  known  by  a  certain  name  which 
they  have  forgotten. 

*  Es'kal-kVla,  described  as  being  a  very  small  louse.  The  Thompson  Indians  call  dirt 
on  a  person's  skin  or  on  clothes  skElMpJ L  (cf.  Hill-Tout,  Report  iqoo,  p.  544). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     301 

at  that  time,  as  Sea-Gull  owned  the  daylight,'  which  he  kept  in  a  box, 
and  never  let  any  of  it  out,  except  occasionalh",  when  he  needed  some 
for  his  own  use. 

Ra\en  thought  it  was  not  fair  that  Sea-Gull  should  keep  the  day- 
light all  to  himself,  when  it  was  of  so  much  \alue,  and  would  benefit 
the  people  if  liberated.  He  made  up  his  mind  to  obtain  the  daylight: 
so  one  night  he  placed  many  hawthorn-branches  on  the  trail  which  led 
from  Sea-Gull's  house  to  the  place  where  the  latter's  canoe  was  fas- 
tened; then,  hastening  to  Sea-Gull's  house,  he  cried  loudly  that  his 
canoe  had  gone  adrift.  Sea-Gull  rushed  out  in  haste  to  sa\e  his 
canoe,  and  several  thorns  entered  his  bare  feet.  He  cried  with  pain, 
returned  to  the  house,  and  asked  Raven  to  get  his  canoe  for  him,  and 
draw  it  up.     Raven  went  and  drew  up  Gull's  canoe,  and  then  returned. 

Gull  complained  much  of  the  thorns  in  his  feet,  and  Raven  said  he 
would  pull  them  out  if  Gull  would  open  the  box  enough  to  let  some 
light  out.  To  this  Gull  agreed.  He  sat  down  beside  the  box  and 
opened  it  a  little  with  one  hand.  \ow  Ra\en  began  to  extract  the 
thorns  with  an  awl,  but  pretended  he  could  not  see  well  enough,  and 
asked  Gull  to  open  the  box  a  little  more,  which  he  did.  Raven  ex- 
tracted most  of  the  thorns,  and  said  he  could  soon  extract  the  last 
ones,  if  he  were  given  a  little  additional  light.  When  Gull  opened  the 
box  a  little  more.  Raven  gave  his  arm  a  push.  Thus  he  knocked  down 
the  box  and  broke  it.-  The  daylight  now  all  escaped  and  spread 
over  the  world,  and  Ciull  was  unable  to  collect  it  again.  Ra\en  claimed 
that  the  push  was  accidental,  and,  after  taking  the  last  of  the  thorns 
out  of  Gull's  feet,  he  left  and  went  home,  chuckling  to  himself. 

Raven  could  now  see  very  far  with  the  new  daylight:  so  one  morning 
he  washed  himself,  combed  and  oiled  his  hair,  put  on  his  best  robe, 
and  painted  his  face  black.  Then  he  ascentled  to  the  top  of  his  under- 
ground house  and  looked  around  the  world.  He  gazed  about  all  tlay 
without  seeing  anything.  Next  morning  he  fixed  himself  up  again, 
changed  his  face-paint,  and  sat  on  his  house-top  all  da\'.  That  day, 
also,  he  saw  nothing.  The  third  day  he  changed  his  face-paint,  and 
difl  likewise.  That  evening,  before  descending,  he  saw  signs  of  smoke. 
On  the  fourth  day  he  changed  his  face-paint  again,  and  that  evening 
he  located  the  smoke,  rising  far  away  in  the  south,  on  the  shore  of  the 
sea. 

On  the  following  (!.i\  I<a\tn  embarked  with  all  his  servants  in 
Little-Louse's  canoe;  but  it  was  too  small,  and  tlu\  were  swamped. 
On  the  following  day  he  tried  Rig-Louse's  canoe;  but  it,  also,  was  too 
small,      riuis  he  tried  all  his  servants'  canoes,  but  with  the  same  result. 

'  Some  flay  the  nun  (cf.  Boas.  Sagen,  p.  55  [Nanainui];  Ilill-Toiit,  Report  1000,  p.  545; 
Boas  and  Hunt.  K-uakiult  Texts,  iii.  p.  393). 

'  Some  say  tlic  Ikjx  diil  not  break,  only  the  lid  opcnrd  wi<li\  tlius  IrttinK  out  all  the 
light. 


302  Journal  of  A?nerican  Folk-Lore 

Now  lie  told  his  wife  to  go  and  ask  the  loan  of  Sea-Gull's  large  canoe, 
as  he  intended  to  go  and  get  fire.  The  following  day,  after  he  had 
obtained  the  canoe,  he  embarked  with  his  servants,  and,  after  four 
days'  paddling  down  stream,  they  arrived  close  to  the  house  of  the 
people  who  possessed  fire.^ 

Now  Raven  asked  his  servants  which  of  them  was  willing  to  go  and 
steal  the  baby-girl  of  these  people.  Little-Louse  offered  to  go;  but 
the  others  said,  "  You  will  make  too  much  noise,  and  wake  the  people." 
Big-Louse  ofTered  himself;  but  they  had  the  same  objections  to  him. 
Then  Flea  said,  "  I  will  go.  In  one  jump  I  will  reach  and  snatch 
the  baby,  and  with  another  jump  I  will  be  out  again.  The  people 
won't  be  able  to  catch  me."  But  the  others  said,  "  You  will  make  a 
noise,  and  we  don't  want  the  people  to  know."  Worm  now  spoke, 
saying,  "  I  will  go  slowly  and  quietly,  and  will  bore  a  hole  underground. 
I  will  come  out  underneath  where  the  baby  hangs  in  its  cradle,  steal  it, 
and  return  without  any  one  hearing  me."  They  all  thought  this  was 
the  best  proposition,  and  assented  to  Worm's  plan.  So  that  night 
Worm  bored  a  hole  underground,  and  stole  the  baby.  As  soon  as  he 
returned  with  it,  they  put  it  in  their  canoe  and  paddled  rapidly  away 
toward  home. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  people  missed  the  baby,  and  the  wise 
ones  knew  what  had  happened.  They  gave  chase,  but  could  neither 
locate  nor  overtake  Raven  and  his  servants.  Sturgeon,  Whale,  and 
Seal  searched  long  and  far,  but  at  last  gave  it  up  and  returned  home. 
Only  one  small  fish  ^  found  the  course  the  canoe  had  taken,  and  overtook 
it.  It  tried  to  retard  the  canoe's  progress  by  sticking  to  the  paddles, 
but  at  last  got  tired  and  returned  home. 

The  mother  of  the  child  caused  a  heavy  rain  to  come,'  thinking  that 
would  stop  the  thieves,  but  without  avail.  Raven  reached  his  own 
country  with  the  child,  and  the  latter's  relatives,  hearing  where  it  had 
been  taken  to,  came  to  Raven's  house  with  many  presents;  but  Raven 
said  they  were  not  what  he  wanted,  so  they  went  back  without  getting 
the  child. 

Twice  again  they  visited  Raven  with  presents,  but  with  the  same 
result.  On  their  fourth  visit,  too.  Raven  refused  their  presents,  al- 
though they  had  brought  different  and  more  valuable  presents  each 
time.  Then  they  asked  him  what  he  wanted,  and  he  said,  "  Fire." 
They  answered,  "  Why  did  you  not  say  that  before?  "  and  they  were 
glad,  because  they  had  plenty,  and  considered  it  of  little  value.  They 
went  and  brought  him  fire,  and  he  gave  them  back  their  child. 

'  They  are  said  to  have  been  all  P'ish  people.  See  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  43  (Fraser  Delta), 
54  (Nanaimo);  Hill-Tout,  Report  jqoo,  p.  544  (Squamish;  here  the  rain  is  obtained); 
Boas  and  Hunt,  Kwakiull  Texts,  p.  94  (here  the  ebb-tide  is  obtained);  Boas,  Sagen,  p.  158 
.  (Kwakiutl). 

'  Said  to  be  a  small,  very  spiny  fish  inhabiting  the  sea. 

*  Some  say  by  weeping. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     303 

The  Fish  people  showed  Raven  how  to  make  fire  with  dry  cotton- 
wood-roots.  Raven  was  glad,  and  said  to  Sea-GuU,  "  If  I  had  not 
stolen  light  from  you,  I  could  not  have  seen  where  fire  was  kept.  Now 
we  have  fire  and  light,  and  both  are  benefited."  Thereafter  Raven  sold 
fire  to  every  family  that  wished  it,  and  each  family  that  bought  it  paid 
him  a  young  girl.     Thus  Raven  became  possessed  of  many  wives. 

7.    THE    SALMON    MEN;    OR,    THE    ORIGIN    OF    SALMON 

Two  brothers  lived  at  the  very-  head  waters  of  the  Upper  Lillooet 
River,  and  spent  most  of  their  time  training  themselves  in  the  neighbor- 
ing mountains,  for  they  wished  to  become  great.  One  of  them  became 
ill,  and  had  to  remain  at  home.  After  four  years'  illness,  he  became 
weak,  and  so  thin  that  he  seemed  nothing  but  skin  and  bones.  His 
brother  grew  anxious  about  him,  and  stopped  his  training.  He 
hunted,  and  brought  in  rabbits,  squirrel,  and  all  kinds  of  meat,  for  his 
sick  brother.  He  also  threw  small  pieces  of  stick  into  the  water, 
making  them  turn  into  fish.  Then  he  caught  them  and  gave  them  to  his 
brother  to  eat.  But  no  kind  of  food  seemed  to  agree  with  the  invalid, 
for  he  rapidly  grew  weaker  and  thinner. 

When  the  youth  saw  that  no  food  did  his  brother  good,  he  made  up 
his  mind  to  take  him  away  to  some  other  place  to  be  cured.  They 
embarked  in  a  canoe,  and  proceeded  down  the  Lillooet  River,  giving 
names  to  all  the  places  as  they  passed  along.  They  came  to  a  place 
they  called  Ilamii'x.  Here  there  was  a  rock  which  dammed  the 
river.  They  made  a  hole  through  it  to  allow  their  canoe  to  pass. 
Even  at  the  present  day  it  appears  like  a  stone  bridge  across  the  river. 
Proceeding,  they  came  to  a  place  they  called  Kome'lux.  Here  two 
creeks,  running  from  opposite  directit^is,  met  each  other  with  very 
great  force.  They  made  tiie  water  smooth  enough  to  be  safe  for 
a  canoe  to  pass.  Proceeding,  they  came  to  a  place  they  named 
Kulexwi'n.  Here  there  was  a  steep,  rocky  mountain  close  to  the 
river.  They  threw  their  ini'diciiK'-inat  '  at  it,  and  it  bcraine  llat  like 
a  mat. 

Thus  they  i^roreeded  (jowii  to  Big  and  Little  Lillooet  Lakis  and  the 
Lower  Lillooet  ki\(r,  until  they  reached  Harrison  Lake.  All  the  way 
al(Mig  the\-  gave  names  to  the  i)lares,  made  the  watiTs  na\igalile,  and 
changed  many  features  of  the  country.  They  reached  Fraser  River, 
went  down  to  its  mouth,  and  proceeded  out  to  sea  to  the  land  of  the 
salmon.  When  lhe>'  arrived  there,  the  strong  brother  hid  himself, 
while  the  sick  man  transformed  himself  into  a  wootlen  dish,  nicel>' 
painted  and  carscd;  and  in  this  form  he  floated  against  llu-  dam  inside 
of  which  the  people  kept  the  salmon.     A  man  found  the  dish,  and  took 

'  The  mat  which  shamans  put  on  tlicir  lu-ad  an  a  mask  when  trcatiuK  patioiita,  or 
searching  for  souls. 

VOL.   XXV. — Nf).   98.  —  20 


304  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

it  to  his  ciaujihtcT.  who  admired  it  very  much,  and  used  it  to  eat  from.' 
Whatever  sahiion  she  left  in  the  dish  over  night  always  disappeared; 
but  she  did  not  care,  because  salmon  were  plentiful. 

The  dish  ate  the  salmon,  or,  rather,  the  sick  brother  in  dish  form; 
and  soon  he  became  fat  and  well  again.  The  other  brother  left  his 
hiding-place  every  night  to  see  the  invalid,  and  to  cat  salmon  out  of 
the  basket  into  which  the  people  threw  their  leavings.  He  was  glad 
to  see  his  brother  getting  well  so  raj^dU-.  When  he  had  become  very 
fat,  his  brother  told  him  it  was  time  they  departed:  so  one  night  he 
broke  the  dam,  and  let  the  salmon  out.  I'hen  they  embarked  in  their 
canoe,  and  led  the  salmon  toward  the  moulli  of  the  Fraser  River. 

The  salmon  tra\elled  very  fast,  and  by  the  next  morning  they  had 
reached  the  ri\er.  As  they  ascended,  they  took  pieces  of  salmon  from 
their  basket,  and  threw  them  into  the  different  creeks  and  rivers. 
Wherever  the>-  threw  pieces  of  salmon,  some  of  the  fish  followed.  Thus 
they  introduced  the  salmon  into  the  streams  of  the  interior.  "  Hence- 
forth," said  they,  "salmon  shall  run  at  this  time  each  year,  and  the 
people  shall  become  acquainted  with  them  and  eat  them."  Then 
the  brothers  returned  to  their  home  at  the  head  of  the  Upper  Lillooet 
River,  and  they  made  near  their  house  the  hot  springs  called  Tciq,^ 
which  they  used  for  cooking  their  food. 

8.     COYOTE 

Coyote  lived  near  Grizzly-Bear's  house. ^  One  day  he  went  to  where 
Grizzly-Bear  used  to  ease  himself  from  a  cross-stick  above  a  hole,  and 
cut  the  stick  nearly  through.  When  Grizzly-Bear  went  as  usual, 
the  stick  broke,  and  he  fell  into  the  hole,  and  spoiled  his  fur.  He 
washed  himself  again  and  again,  but  could  not  clean  himself.  Coyote 
went  to  Grizzly-Bear's  house,  and  said,  "  What  is  the  matter?  You 
smell  like  excrement."  Grizzly-Bear  felt  ashamed,  and  went  to  the 
river  to  wash  again.  While  he  was  gone.  Coyote  hurried  to  Grizzly- 
Bear's  cellar  and  stole  a  pack  of  dried  salmon.  When  Grizzly-Bear 
went  to  the  cellar  soon  afterward,  he  missed  the  fish  and  followed 
Coyote;  but  the  latter  caused  cold  wind  and  snow  to  come;  and 
Grizzly-Bear  was  afraid,  and  returned  home. 

Some  time  afterward  Coyote  was  hungry,  and  knowing  that  Grizzly- 
Bear'  had  a  large  store  of  dried  salmon,  berries,  and  other  food,  he 

*  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  27;  Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  205  (tJta'mqt),  296  (Nicola);  Boas, 
Sagen,  p.  18;  Hill-Tout,  Report  iH(^cj,  p.  559  (Thompson);  Hill-Tout,  Anlhrop.  Inst,  xx.xiv, 
p.  43  (Seshelt). 

'  These  springs  arc  near  the  remote  sources  of  the  Lillooet  River,  in  the  main  Cascade 
Mountains.  The  water  is  said  to  be  very  hot,  and  the  springs  arc  larger  than  any  others 
known  of.     Hot-springs  are  numerous  throughout  the  Lillooet  country. 

*  Some  say  near  the  Fraser  River  in  the  SLa'tLcmux  country  (see  Teit,  Mythology 
p.  311;  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  630). 

*  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  311  (Nicola);  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  630. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      305 

visited  him,  and  said,  "  You  have  great  stores  of  food,  but  never  give 
me  any  at  all.  \\'h>-  are  >ou  so  stingy,  when  the  salmon  will  be  here 
soon?  "  Grizzly-Bear  answered,  "  No,  it  will  be  a  long  time  yet 
before  the  salmon  come."  Coyote  went  down  to  the  Fraser  River, 
near  the  mouth  of  Cayuse  Creek,  where  he  found  some  old  sockeye- 
salmon  and  king-salmon  bones,  which  he  changed  into  fresh  salmon. 
He  found  some  old  pips  on  rosebushes,  and  changed  them  into  service- 
berries.  Then  he  returned  to  Grizzly-Bear's  house  with  the  fish  and 
berries,  which  he  left  outside.  He  said  to  Grizzly- Bear,  "  I  am 
hungry,"  and  the  latter  gave  him  some  dried  salmon  and  dried  berries 
to  eat.  He  threw  the  food  outside,  saying,  "  The  berries  are  ripe, 
and  the  salmon  have  come,  yet  you  give  me  that  old  stufT  to  eat." 
Grizzly-Bear  would  not  believe  him,  so  Coyote  brought  in  the  fresh 
salmon  and  berries.  Grizzly-Bear  ate  Coyote's  food,  and  believed 
what  he  said :  so  he  went  to  his  cache  and  threw  away  all  his  provisions. 

Then  Coyote  went  down  to  the  river,  and,  seeing  a  pole  o\erhanging 
the  running  water,  he  thought  he  would  have  some  fun.  He  got  up 
on  the  pole  and  danced  up  and  down.  Before  long  he  became  giddy 
and  sick,  and  lay  down  on  the  river-bank.  A  man  came  along  and 
kicked  him.  He  got  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  saying,  "  I  have  been 
asleep," 

Travelling  on,  he  came  upon  a  number  of  >oung  Grouse  at  play,* 
and  asked  them  where  their  parents  were.  Then  he  put  gum  in  the 
eyes  of  one  of  them,  so  that  it  could  not  see.  Their  mother  came  and 
cleaned  the  child's  eyes,  and  asked  how  it  came  to  have  gum  in  them. 
The  child  said,  "  Coyote  did  it."  Coyote  became  so  hungry  that 
he  fainted,  and  a  man  came  along  and  kicked  him,  saying,"  Win-  are 
you  lying  there?  "     Co>ote  got  up  and  said,  "  I  was  sleejjing." 

He  went  to  the  Buck-Deer's  house  and  told  him  that  he  was 
hungry.*  The  FUuk  put  on  a  big  fire,  and  stood  with  his  back  close 
to  it.  When  the  fat  of  his  back  was  cooked,  he  told  Coyote  to  eat 
his  back-fat,  and  Coyote  ate  his  fill.  Then  Coyote  made  the  fire 
hotter,  and,  standing  with  his  back  in  front  (jf  it,  singed  his  hair.  Then 
he  asked  the  Buck  to  come  and  eat  his  back-fat;  but  tin-  Buck  threw 
Coyote  out.  litre  he  lay  on  the  ground  and  slept,  until  .1  man  passing 
along  kickt-d  him  and  w(ike  him  u|). 

Then  Coyote  went  to  Water-Ouzel's  house  ami   tokl  liiiu  he  was 

'  Boas,  Sagen.  pp.  17  (Shuxwap  and  TliompMin),  57  (Sciuamixh).  89  (Comox),  114 
(NfHJtlca);  Trit.  The  Shuswap.  pp.  6a8,  740;  Hill-Tout,  Report  tSoo.  p.  547-  Only  ihc 
Shuimap  vcrsion^t  are  cloHcly  rflatcd  to  ilie  prcst-nt  inciclont. 

*  For  parallcU,  m'o  Boaii,  Sagen,  p.  359,  under  "  NacliahmunK;"  GcorRC  A.  Dorsicy  and 
A.  L.  KroclKT,  Arapaho  Tradilions,  Field  ('olumhian  Museum,  Anthropology,  vol.  v.  p. 
119;  Farrand,  ChiUotin,  p.  18;  Hill-Tout,  Rep<irl  iSov,  p.  575;  MatthrwH.  Saraho  Legends. 
Mem.  Am.  Folk-ljore  Soc,  vol.  v,  p.  87;  Trit,  Traditions,  p.  .\n\  Trit.  Mythology,  pp.  206, 
301;  Tcit,  The  Shuswap,  pp.  637.  739;  etc. 


3o6  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

hungry.  W'aior-Ouzcl  went  to  the  stream  and  dived  for  salmon- 
spawn,  which  he  put  in  a  basket,  and  boiled  for  Coyote  to  eat.  After 
eating  his  fill,  Coyote  took  a  basket,  and,  going  to  the  stream,  dived  in. 
Thinking  the  fine  gra\-el  was  spawn,  he  tried  to  catch  it  with  his 
mouth.  He  did  this  until  he  got  tired,  and  the  current  carried  him 
away.  He  eventually  got  ashore,  and,  feeling  exhausted,  lay  down 
to  sleep.     A  man  passing  by  woke  him  up  with  a  kick. 

He  felt  hungry,  and  went  to  Kingfisher's  house.  The  latter  went 
down  to  the  lake,  made  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  speared  ^  some  fish,  which 
he  took  home  and  boiled  for  Coyote.  After  eating  his  fill,  Coyote 
made  a  spear  of  pitch-wood,  and  stuck  it  in  his  nose.  Then,  going  to 
the  hole  in  the  ice,  he  put  his  head  down  to  spear  fish ;  but  the  pitch- 
wood  struck  a  piece  of  ice,  and  ran  up  his  nostril.  Coyote  fainted  with 
the  pain,  and  Kingfisher  went  and  kicked  him.  Then  Coyote  ceased 
travelling  for  a  while,  and  made  a  house  in  a  new  place. 

He  desired  to  have  a  son:^  so  he  made  one  of  clay,  and  told  him 
never  to  go  into  the  water  nor  to  wash  himself;  but  his  son  disobeyed, 
went  into  the  water,  and  dissolved.  Then  he  made  another  son  out 
of  gum,  and  told  him  never  to  go  in  the  sun  or  near  a  fire;  but  he  also 
disobeyed,  for  he  lay  down  to  sleep  on  a  flat  rock,  and  melted.  Again 
Coyote  made  a  son,  this  time  of  stone,  and  told  him  never  to  swim 
in  the  water;  but,  like  the  others,  he  did  what  he  was  told  not  to  do, 
and,  going  to  swim  in  the  water,  he  sank.  At  last  Coyote  made  a 
fourth  son,  from  the  bark  of  the  balsam-poplar.  The  son  washed  him- 
self, he  swam,  and  he  sunned  himself,  but  nothing  had  any  efTect  on 
him :  so  he  grew  up  to  be  a  young  man.  He  hunted,  and  was  very  suc- 
cessful, and  he  and  his  father  made  many  goat-hair  and  deer-skin  robes. 

Coyote  3  took  his  son  with  him  to  travel  around  the  country.  His 
name  was  Yiku's.xen.  They  passed  by  a  lake,  near  which  they  saw 
many  swans  flying  overhead.  Coyote  called  on  them  to  fall  down. 
The  Swans  said  to  themselves,  "  It  is  Coyote.  We  will  fall  down." 
They  fell  like  hail,  and  remained  as  if  dead.  Coyote  told  his  son  to 
make  a  fire  to  cook  them,  and  he  himself  went  for  more  wood.  When 
he  was  away  some  distance,  the  Swans  began  to  move,  and  some  to 
fly  away.  Yiku'sxen  called  on  his  father,  who  ran  back,  carrying  a 
stick,  and  began  to  hit  the  rising  Swans  in  an  excited  manner.  He  hit 
his  son,  who  cried  out,  "  Stop!  "  and  the  Swans  all  got  away. 

Continuing  their  journey,  they  came  on  the  carcass  of  a  Grizzly- 
Bear.''  They  made  an  oven  in  the  ground  similar  to  those  used  for 
cooking  roots,  and  put  the  whole  carcass  in.  At  night  they  took  it  out, 
and  said  they  would  let  it  cool  and  would  eat  it  in  the  morning.     While 

'  Some  say  his  spear  was  made  of  pitch-wood. 

*  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  2i;  Hill-Tout,  Report  iSgg,  p.  551;  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  296. 

*  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  310;  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  638. 

*  Some  say  the  same  grizzly  mentioned  in  the  story  of  the  Black  and  the  Grizzly  Bears. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      307 

they  were  asleep,  some  women  who  were  searching  for  birds'  eggs 
came  along  and  ale  up  the  wh{jle  carcass.'  When  the  women  were 
leaving,  ihey  smeared  the  mouths  and  hands  of  the  Coyotes  with  some 
of  the  grease.  \\  hen  Coyote  awoke  in  the  morning,  he  found  nothing 
but  bones.  He  was  angry  at  his  son,  sa\  ing,  "  ^'ou  ate  the  whole  bear, 
and  never  called  me."  Yiku'sxen  denied  it;  and  Coyote  said,  "See 
the  grease  on  your  hands  and  mouth!"  Yiku'sxen  said,  "See  the 
grease  on  >our  own  hands  and  mouth!  "  Then  Coyote  knew  that  a 
trick  had  been  pla\ed  on  them. 

They  followed  the  tracks  of  the  women,  and,  unpercei\'ed,  passed 
by  the  place  where  they  were  gathering  eggs.  At  evening.  Coyote 
changed  himself  into  a  large  branching  cedar-tree,  and  his  son  into  a 
log  of  dry  wood.  Then  he  caused  a  heavy  shower  of  rain  to  come. 
The  women  sought  shelter  under  the  tree,  and  thought  it  was  a  good 
place  to  camp  for  the  night.  They  said,  "  We  ha\e  shelter  here,  and 
plenty  of  dry  wood."  The  women  cooked  their  eggs,  and  said  they 
would  lea\e  most  of  them  for  breakfast.  When  they  were  asleep. 
Coyote  and  his  son  assumed  their  natural  forms,  and  ate  all  the  eggs. 
W^hen  the  women  awoke  in  the  morning,  there  was  neither  tree,  nor 
wood,  n(jr  eggs.  They  said,  "  This  is  Coyote's  work."  Continuing 
their  journey.  Coyote  saw  a  Cannibal  approaching. ^  He  gave  his  pack 
to  his  son,  and  told  him  to  hide  in  the  bush.  Coyote  and  the  Cannibal 
met,  and  each  asked  the  other  who  he  was.  Both  answered  that  they 
were  Cannibals  and  ate  men,  and  the  one  pretended  not  to  believe 
the  other.  Coyote  proposed  they  should  xomit,  and  thus  find  out 
who  was  telling  the  truth.  The  Cannibal  agreed  to  this;  and  Coyote 
said,  "  We  must  both  shut  our  eyes."  They  vomited,  and,  while  the 
Cannibal's  eyes  were  yet  closed.  Coyote  changed  the  stuff  they  had 
\'omited,  placing  his  own  in  front  of  the  Cannibal.  When  the  latter 
opened  his  eyes,  he  saw  lumps  of  human  llesh  in  front  of  Coyote,  and 
nothing  but  grass  in  front  of  hinistlf.  ( "o\  otc-  lauglu-d  at  him,  and  said, 
"  I  knew  you  were  a  liar  and  a  boastir." 

At  last  they  reached  a  countr\'  where  there  were  m.iii\  pt'o|)k'  who 
made  baskets.'  They  staid  with  these  peopli-,  who  win-  \ir\  kind, 
anrl  gave  two  girls  to  be  the  wi\es  of  \'iku'sxen.  CoNote  was  not 
pleased  over  his  son's  marriage,  and  said,  "  He  is  very  poor,  and  cannot 
support  two  wivc^. "  ll<  thought  they  ought  to  have  offered  the  girls 
to  him,  for  he  was  anxious  to  marr\  .  CoNote  hiintrd  a  gre.it  deal,  and 
ga\e  presents  oi  many  deer-skins  to  the  people,  receiving  in  return 

'  Tclt.  Mythology,  p.  310  (Nicola);  Tclt.  The  Shuiwap.  p.  683. 

»  Sec  Boas.  Sagfft.  p.  y;  Ilill-Tcnit,  Folk-Ijirf,  p.  ac)6  (Thoinpwin);  Tcit.  Traditions, 
p.  30;  Tcit.  Mythology,  p.  300;  Trit.  The  Shmuap,  p.  632;  MattlicwM.  \'avaho  Ixgtnds. 
p.  337. 

»  TrIt.  Traditions,  p.  ai;  Boan.  Sagrn,  p.  17  (ThompfMjn);  Mill- Tout.  Report  iSog.  p.  57; 
Tcit,  Mythology,  p.  205  (Utft'mqt).  p.  396  (Nicola);  Tell.  The  Shuswap,  pp.  633.  737. 


3o8  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

baskets,  which  he  gave  to  the  elderly  women,  thinking  some  of  them 
might  offer  him  their  daughters;  but  they  did  not  do  so. 

Then  Coyote  wished  to  get  his  son's  wives:  so  he  went  to  a  small 
tree,  defecated  on  the  top  of  it,  and  turned  his  excrement  into  a  nest 
full  of  >oung eagles.  He  asked  them  to  say,  "  Sik,  sik,  sik !  "  like  young 
birds;  but  they  always  said,  "  Excrements!  "  instead.  At  last  he  got 
them  to  speak  in  the  right  manner,  and  then  he  went  to  his  son  and  told 
him  that  there  were  eaglets  in  a  nest  near  by.  Coyote  had  made  the 
tree  grow  very  tall.  Yiku'sxen  took  off  his  clothes  and  climbed  the 
tree.  Coyote  made  the  tree  grow  taller  and  taller,  until  it  reached 
the  sky;  and  his  son  kept  on  climbing,  being  encouraged  by  his  father. 
At  last  he  found  himself  so  high  up,  he  was  afraid  to  come  down. 
Coyote  made  himself  look  young,  and,  putting  on  his  son's  clothes, 
went  to  his  wives.  One  of  them,  who  had  a  baby  son,  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him,  as  she  was  sure  he  was  Coyote,  and  had  played 
some  trick  on  her  husband ;  but  the  other  wife  was  easily  deceived,  and 
thenceforth  lived  with  Coyote.  This  was  the  wife  his  son  did  not 
love  very  much. 

When  Yiku'sxen  reached  the  sky,  he  began  to  travel  through  the 
upper  world,  and  came  to  two  old  women  who  were  blind.  They  were 
handing  each  other  gravel,  which  seemed  to  be  their  food.  He  took 
the  gravel  out  of  their  hands,  and  they  thought  the  one  was  fooling 
the  other  when  they  said,  "  I  gave  you  some,  and  you  took  it."  They 
were  angry  at  each  other  for  a  time;  then  one  of  them  said,  "  Coyote's 
son  must  be  here:  I  smell  him."  He  asked  them  if  there  were  any 
houses  near  by;  and  they  said  if  he  kept  on  travelling,  he  would  come 
to  some  underground  houses. 

He  continued  his  journey,  and  saw  the  ladder  of  an  underground 
house  in  the  distance.  When  he  arrived  at  the  house,  he  found  it 
inhabited  by  two  old  people.  Spider  and  his  wife.  Spider  gave  him  a 
bow  and  arrows,  and  told  him  to  go  hunting.^  He  said,  "  Don't  shoot 
hard.  If  you  do,  the  arrow  will  rebound  from  the  animal  and  come 
back  to  me.  Shoot  gently,  and  always  wait  until  you  get  the  animals 
one  in  front  of  the  other;  then  shoot  the  rump  of  the  last  one,  and  the 
arrow  will  go  through  them  all  and  kill  them."  He  went  hunting 
several  times,  but  always  shot  too  hard,  and  the  arrows  went  back  to 
Spider.  At  last  he  learned  how  to  shoot  gently,  and  killed  many  deer 
and  goats.     Spider's  wife  was  glad,  and  spun  much  goat-hair. 

At  last  Yiku'sxen  got  tired  of  the  upper  world,  and  said  he  wished 
to  return  to  earth.  Spider  said,  "All  right!  My  wife  will  make  a 
very  long  rope  of  goat's  hair,  and  we  will  lower  you  down."  When 
the  rope  was  finished,  they  tied  a  covered  basket  to  the  end  of  it,  and 
put  Yiku'sxen  inside.     They  said,  "  You  must  not  look  out  on  your 

•  See  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  257. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     309 

way  down."  They  lowered  him  down  until  he  reached  the  clouds, 
when  he  looked  out,  and  the  basket  went  up  again.  Next  time  he  did 
not  look  out,  and  the  basket  passed  the  clouds,  and  soon  reached  the 
earth.  He  did  not  open  the  lid  until  he  heard  the  Meadow-Lark  cry, 
then  he  knew  that  he  had  reached  the  earth.  He  came  out  and  ran 
with  the  basket,  and  swung  it.  The  Spider  then  pulled  it  up.  He 
looked  around,  and  found  that  the  people  had  recently  left  on  a  hunting- 
trip.  He  followed  their  tracks,  and  overtook  his  wife,  who  was  carry- 
ing her  child.  The  latter  recognized  him  and  called  him  by  name,  and 
his  wife  was  glad  to  see  him.  They  arrived  at  the  place  where  the 
people  were  camped,  and  Coyote  offered  to  give  him  back  his  other 
wife,  but  he  would  not  take  her. 

Now  Yiku'sxen  went  hunting,  and  shot  a  deer  on  the  far  side  of  a 
large  creek.  He  took  out  the  entrails,  and  made  the  intestines  into  a 
tump-line,  which  he  hung  up  near  the  carcass.  Then  he  returned  home 
and  told  Coyote  of  his  success.  The  latter  said,  "  I  will  go  with  you 
to-morrow  and  help  you  carry  it  in."  On  the  following  morning,  when 
they  had  gone  some  distance,  Coyote  said,  "  I  have  forgotten  my 
packing-line."  Yiku'sxen  said,  "  Never  mind!  I  left  one  yesterday 
with  the  deer."  They  forded  the  stream,  and  cut  the  deer  up.  Yiku's- 
xen said,  "  If  you  carry  the  deer  home,  I  will  go  hunting,  for  the  day 
is  yet  young."  Yiku'sxen  left,  and  Coyote  put  the  deer-meat  on  his 
back.  By  this  time  it  was  raining  hard,  for  Yiku'sxen  had  caused 
rain  to  fall;  and  Coyote  hurried  along,  for  he  was  afraid  the  creek 
would  swell  so,  that  he  could  not  cross:  but  the  pack-strap  broke 
every  little  while,  and  he  had  to  stop  and  mend  it.  When  he  reached 
the  creek,  he  found  the  water  was  already  deep,  and  still  rising  rapidly. 
He  tried  to  ford  the  creek;  but  when  in  the  deepest  place,  the  tump-line 
broke,  and  the  pack  was  swept  away.  Coyote  tried  to  catch  it,  but  the 
rising  water  carried  him  away,  anrl  it  is  said  he  was  drowned. 

Q.     Till-:    MAN    WHO    HAD    A    I!KAN"(H    TOR    A    Will.' 

Once  a  man  li\ed  alone  in  an  underground  house.  All  the  other 
people  in  the  land  lived  very  far  away.  He  longed  to  have  a  wife,  but 
(lid  not  know  wliirc  to  obtain  nnv.  At  last  he  made  \\\i  his  mind 
to  make  a  tree-branch  his  wife.  He  tra\elled  around  many  days, 
breaking  branches  from  trees,  until  at  last  he  found  a  suitable  one, 
whi(  h  broke  off,  li-aving  a  hole  through  the  |)art  wliii  h  had  been  next 
the  tree.  He  carried  it  home,  and  treated  il  as  his  wife.  He  talked  to 
it,  and,  changing  his  voice,  talked  again  as  if  it  were  answering  him. 
He  slept  with  il;  and  when  lie  went  out.  hi-  cowred  il  o\-er  with  a 
blanket,  and  left  food  and  water  beside  il. 

'  Sec  p.  357;  also  Boas.  Sagen,  p.  aj  (Fraw-T  Ucllai;  1  <  ii.  .\/vr/i../.)i.v.  pp.  121  (I'ta'mfit). 
316  (Nicola);  Tcit.  The  Shuswap,  p.  653. 


3IO  J  our  7ial  of  American  Folk-Lore 

A  woman  who  li\ecl  in  a  distant  counlr>-  knew  how  the  man  was 
acting,  and  went  to  see  him.  She  reached  the  house  during  his 
absence,  put  it  in  order,  drank  the  water  and  ate  the  food  left  for  the 
branch-wife,  and,  as  evening  came  on,  lighted  the  fire.  When  the 
man  came  home,  she  hid  herself  and  watched  him.  The  man  went 
hunting  four  successive  days,  and  always  found  the  house  arranged, 
and  the  food  and  water  gone,  when  he  came  back.  He  thought  to 
himself,  "  My  branch-wife  must  be  doing  this.  She  must  be  getting 
alive."  And  he  was  glad  that  his  wife  was  becoming  useful,  and  could 
eat  and  drink. 

The  next  night,  before  the  hunter  came  home,  the  woman  threw  the 
branch  into  the  fire.  When  he  arrived,  and  missed  the  branch,  he 
wept  and  lamented,  saying,  "  My  loss  is  great.  My  wife  must  have 
fallen  into  the  fire  while  she  was  climbing  the  ladder  to  go  and  get 
water.  W'hat  shall  I  do  for  a  wife?  "  Then  the  woman  laughed  at 
him  from  where  she  was  hidden.  She  stepped  towards  him,  and  asked 
him  for  whom  he  was  crying.  She  said,  "  I  burned  the  branch,  and 
now  I  will  be  your  wife."  She  told  him  the  whole  story,  and  he  was 
glad  to  have  a  real  wife.     They  lived  together,  and  had  many  children. 

10.     GLACIER   AND    CHINOOK-WIND  > 

A  Glacier  in  the  mountains,  near  the  north  end  of  Lillooet  Lake, 
wished  to  get  a  wife.  He  travelled  ^  south  until  he  reached  the  sea. 
He  followed  south  along  the  seashore  until  he  reached  the  house  of 
Chinook- Wind,  who  gave  him  his  daughter  in  marriage.  He  took  her 
home;  but  she  soon  found  she  could  not  live  with  him  because  the 
temperature  was  so  low.  She  felt  cold,  and  lighted  a  fire.  Her  hus- 
band began  to  melt:  so  he  put  the  fire  out,  and  threw  the  wood  away. 
He  sent  his  servant,  Water-Ouzel,  into  the  water  to  fetch  wet  wood, 
and  said  to  him,  "  When  my  wife  desires  wood  for  a  fire,  always  give 
her  wet  wood,  and  never  dry."  The  woman  used  some  of  the  wet 
wood,  but  it  gave  no  heat,  and  smoked  so  much  that  she  could  not  see. 
The  woman  was  thus  very  miserable  living  with  Glacier. 

She  gave  birth  to  a  child,  and  shortly  afterw^ards  got  an  opportunity 
to  send  word  to  her  relatives,  telling  them  of  her  miserable  state. 
When  they  received  the  news,  her  brother  with  many  friends  went 
to  her  rescue  in  a  canoe.  When  they  neared  Glacier's  house,  they 
changed  to  snowflakes,  and  danced  around  and  above  it.  The  woman 
saw  them,  and  said  to  herself,  "  The  weather  is  milder:  it  is  snowing. 

>  Compare  "The  Hot  and  Cold  Winds,"  Tcit.  Traditions,  p.  55.  The  origin  of  the 
Chinook  wind,  or  the  attempt  to  overcome  the  cold,  are  themes  of  other  tales;  see  Teit, 
The  Shuswap,  p.  624;  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  210;  Hill-Tout.  Anthrop.  Inst.  xxxv.  p.  204 
(Lower  Lillooet). 

»  Some  say  by  way  of  Lillooet  Lake.  Lillooet  River,  Harrison  Lake,  Harrison  River, 
and  Fraser  River,  to  the  sea. 


Traditions  of  the  LiUooet  Indiatis  of  British  Columbia      3 1 1 

My  brother  has  arrived."  Glacier  caused  the  cold  to  come,  so  that 
there  was  much  frost  on  the  trees,  and  drove  Chinook-Wind  away;  but 
the  latter  returned  again  stronger  than  ever,  and  in  the  form  of  soft 
snowflakes  and  sleet  danced  around  the  house.  Again  Glacier  made 
it  cold,  so  that  ice  formed  on  the  trees;  but  Chinook-Wind  returned  in 
the  form  of  rain,  which  began  to  melt  Glacier,  who  could  now  only 
produce  a  little  cold  with  hail.  Then  Chinook-Wind  came  back, 
blowing  stead>-  and  strong  and  warm;  and  Glacier  retreated  up  the 
mountains,  lea\ing  his  wife  behind. 

They  put  her  in  the  canoe,  and  paddled  back  again  down  Lillooet 
Lake.  When  half-wa>'  down  the  lake,  they  put  ashore  to  light  a 
fire  and  eat.  Here  the  brother  noticed  a  hump  on  his  sister's  hips. 
He  asked  her  what  it  was,  and  she  said  it  was  her  bab>-.  She  was 
hiding  it,  intending  to  take  it  home  secretly.  Her  brother  took  it 
from  her,  and,  finding  it  was  a  piece  of  ice,  he  threw  it  into  the  fire, 
where  it  melted.  Then  he  turned  around  and  said,  "  Henceforth,  in 
this  countr>-,  cold  and  ice  shall  ha\e  the  mastery-  for  only  a  few  months 
each  year;  then  the  Chinook-Wind  will  come  and  drive  awa\-  the  cold, 
and  melt  the  ice,  as  we  have  done.  Our  voyage  shall  be  made  each 
year."  They  emi^arkcd  again,  and  reached  their  home  in  due  time. 
Because  the  woman  carried  her  ice-baby  on  her  hips,  therefore  in  cold 
weather  a  woman's  backside  is  always  colder  than  a  man's. ^ 

II.     WKi:X;    OR,    THE    CHAIN    OF    ARROWS 

This  story,  as  told  \)\  the  Liluet-o'l,  is  just  like  the  Ncr^ion  which 
I  obtained  from  the  I'ta'nuit.- 

12.  THE  MOSQUITOES  AND  THUNDER' 
The  Mosfiuitoes  were  very  numerous,  and  li\ed  in  the  upper  world, 
where  they  were  ruled  1)>'  a  chief.  Thunder  also  lived  there,  but  not 
with  the  Mosquitoes.  One  day,  wiun  the  weather  was  ver>'  hot,  the 
Mos(|uilo  chief  sent  f>ne  of  his  people  to  the  larth  to  search  for  blood. 
This  Mosfjuito,  finding  some  men,  sucki-d  their  blood,  and  nturni-d 
home  with  his  bell>'  full.  \\  hcii  he  arrJNcd,  he  xoniitcd  the  blond  into 
a  kettle,  and,  after  boiling  it,  iiuiti-d  all  the  women  to  come  and  eat  it. 
Then  the  chief  sent  another  man  to  the  earth  in  (juest  of  mon-  blood. 
He  foimd  some  w(jmen  asleep,  and,  after  gorging  himself  with  blood 
from  their  privates,  he  returned  to  the  upper  world.  He  vomitid  up 
the  blood,  boiled  it  in  a  round  basket,  and  iiuilid  all  the  men  to  eat. 
Having  acquired  a  taste  for  blood,  and   li.uing  learned  where  to 

'  Some  say  the  l)r«>tlicr  al.so  ordainrd  tliis. 

•  See  Tfit,  Mythology,  p.  246;  conipari*  alno  Rcias.  Sagrn,  p.  17  (Tlionipson);  Toil,  The 
Shuswap,  p.  749. 

•  Compare  "The  Mnsquito  and  the  Thunder."  Teil.  Traditions,  Story  xi.  p.  56;  also 
Teit.  Mythology,  pp.  229  (Uta'mqt).  335  (Nicola);  Toil,  The  Shuswap,  p.  709. 


312  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

obtain  it,  the  Mosquitoes  lived  on  it  almost  altogether.  Every  warm 
day  their  chief  sent  down  great  numbers  to  earth,  where  they  collected 
much  blood,  and  then  returned  home  with  it,  boiled  it,  and  ate  it. 
Then  the  Mosquito  chief  said,  "  Henceforth  mosquitoes  shall  go  to 
earth  and  suck  blood  when  they  can  get  it.  Female  mosquitoes  shall 
suck  men's  blood,  and  male  mosquitoes  shall  suck  women's  blood; 
and  any  one  who  kills  mosquitoes  when  sucking  blood  shall  be  attacked 
by  many  other  mosquitoes,  and  thus  be  punished." 

Now,  Thunder  heard  that  his  neighbors  the  Mosquitoes  were  living 
on  blood:  so  he  went  and  asked  the  first  Mosquito  who  had  visited 
the  earth  where  he  obtained  the  blood.  The  Mosquito  told  him  that 
he  sucked  it  from  the  tree-tops.  Then  Thunder  shot  the  tree-tops, 
went  down,  and  sucked  them;  but  he  could  not  extract  any  blood. 
He  went  to  the  other  Mosquito  who  had  first  brought  blood  from  the 
earth,  and  asked  him  where  he  got  the  blood.  The  Mosquito  answered, 
"  I  sucked  it  from  the  rocks."  Thereupon  Thunder  shot  the  rocks,  and 
sucked  them;  but  he  could  not  obtain  any  blood.  If  the  Mosquitoes 
had  told  the  truth,  Thunder  would  have  shot  the  people  and  sucked 
their  blood,  instead  of  shooting  the  trees  and  rocks,  as  he  does  at  the 
present  day.  The  Mosquitoes  thus  saved  people  from  being  shot  by 
Thunder. 

13.     WREN^ 

Wren  {tsatso')  strutted  up  and  down,  tossing  his  head,  and  striking 
his  heels  into  the  ground.  As  he  walked  about,  he  sang,  calling 
Buck- Deer  to  come.  Fawn  appeared;  and  Wren  said  to  him,  "  Let 
me  look  at  your  buttocks!"  Fawn  turned  around.  "  Go  away !"  said 
Wren.  "  I  do  not  want  you.  I  do  not  want  worthless  deer.  I  want 
a  fat  one."  He  sang  again,  and  One-Prong-Buck  appeared.  He  asked 
him  to  turn  around  so  that  he  could  see  his  backside.  Then  he  said, 
"Go  away!  I  do  not  want  you.  Why  does  not  Buck  come?  I  wish 
a  very  fat  deer."  He  sang  again,  and  Two-Prongcd-Buck  came.  He 
had  a  look  at  him,  also,  and  then  told  him  to  go  away.  Next  Three- 
Prongcd-Buck  came,  and  at  last  Four-Pronged  Buck.  After  looking 
at  his  buttocks,  and  seeing  that  he  was  very  large  and  fat,  he  said, 
"  You  are  the  one  I  want.  Why  did  you  not  come  before?  "  He 
smacked  his  lips,  and  drew  out  his  small  knife,  which  he  held  ready 
in  his  hand.  Then  he  jumped  into  Buck's  anus,  and,  reaching  his 
heart,  he  severed  his  heart-strings.  Buck  fell  down  dead,  and  Wren 
went  out  again  the  same  way  he  had  entered. 

Now  he  soon  discovered  that  he  had  left  his  knife  inside  of  Buck; 
and  he  dared  not  enter  again  for  fear  that  he  would  die.  He  wondered 
what  he  should  do.  So  he  strutted  around  Buck's  carcass,  and  sang 
to  himself,  "  I  want  to  get  my  knife  to  skin  the  deer."     He  forgot 

■  See  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  342  (Nicola);   Tcit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  751. 


Traditions  of  the  LiUooet  Indians  of  British  Coln?nbia     313 

himself  for  the  moment.  He  did  not  intend  to  say  as  much  or  to  sing 
so  loudly;  for  he  was  afraid  the  Wolf  people,  who  lived  in  an  under- 
ground house  near  by,  might  hear  him.  So  he  changed  his  song,  and 
said,  "  I  want  to  get  my  knife  to  skin  a  tree  for  bow  and  arrows." 

A  Wolf  heard  him  the  first  time,  and  said  t(j  his  friends,  "  Come  out- 
side and  listen !  Wren  is  singing  that  he  wishes  his  knife  to  skin  a  deer. 
He  must  ha\e  killed  one."  They  all  went  outside,  and  heard  him 
sing,  "  I  want  my  knife  to  skin  a  tree."  They  said,  "  We  were  mis- 
taken: he  has  killed  nothing."  Now  the  Wren  sang,  "  I  want  my 
knife  to  skin  a  buck;  "  then,  correcting  himself,  he  sang,  "  I  wish  my 
knife  to  skin  a  tree  to  make  a  bow."  Then  the  Wolves  said,  "  He 
has  certainly  killed  something!  "  and  they  ran  to  see. 

They  met  Wren,  and  asked  him  what  he  was  going  to  skin.  He  said, 
"  A  stick."  They  said,  "  You  sang,  '  Skin  a  deer.'  "  He  answered, 
"  No,  I  did  not  sing  that."  The\'  said,  "  He  lies.  We  will  go  and  see." 
They  found  the  deer,  and  ate  it  all,  excepting  the  tripe  and  the  trotters, 
which  they  put  aside  for  an  old-man  Wolf,  who  had  told  them  when 
they  left,  "If  >ou  find  any  deer,  keep  the  tripe  and  the  trotters  for  me. 
I  like  them  better  than  any  other  part  of  the  animal."  The  Wolves 
forgot  the  old  man's  tidbits,  and  went  home,  leaving  them  beside 
Wren's  knife,  which  they  had  found  inside,  near  the  deer's  heart. 

When  the  W(jlves  had  departed.  Wren  returned,  and,  finding  the 
trotters  and  tripe  along  with  his  knife,  he  ate,  putting  the  tripe  in  his 
mouth,  and  cutting  it  off  piece  by  piece,  close  to  his  lips.'  He  had  not 
eaten  very  much  wlun  he  accidentally  cut  off  his  nose.  He  tried  to 
glue  it  on  with  saliva;  but,  as  soon  as  the  saliva  dried,  the  nose  fell  off 
again.  Then  he  tried  clay,  but  without  success:  so  he  went  away, 
carrying  his  nose  in  his  hand. 

Now,  one  of  the  Wolves,  while  eating  the  deer,'-  had  gotten  a  large 
bone  between  his  teeth,  which  he  could  not  get  out,  and  his  face 
began  to  swtil.  He  travelled  about  to  see  if  he  could  not  get  relief. 
He  nut  Wren,  wIkj  asked  him,  "  What  is  the  matter  that  >()ur  face  is 
swollen.''  "  Then  they  told  each  other  of  their  injuriis,  and  agreed 
tiiat  they  would  cure  each  other.  Wolf  s.iid,  "  M\-  iniur\  is  the  worse: 
you  had  belter  cure  me  first."  Wren,  howexer,  maintained  that  his 
was  the  worse,  and  should  be  cured  first.  At  last  \\\)\i  sjiii  on  his 
hands,  smeared  Wren's  fac  e,  put  on  his  nose,  and  it  grew  there. -^  Then 
Wren  pointed  his  finger  at  the  bone  in  Wolf's  mouth,  and  it  came  out. 

Now  they  were  wi-ll  pleased,  and  said,  "  We  will  li\-e  together." 
S(j  tlu-y  in.idc  a  Iioum-  in  ulii(li  tlir\  dwell.  Woil  .il\va\s  hunted  at 
night,  and  he  told  Wri-n  not  to  sleep  too  soundl> ,  Imt  to  ha\i-  pkiu>  of 

*  This  Ih  a  r(»miimn  way  ii(  caliiiK  among  tlir  old  Indians. 

*  See  Miil-Tnut.  Anthrop.  ln\l.  xxxiv.  p.  j6. 

*  Sonic  say  lie  rulilMvl  tlic  s;tlivu  on  his  nos<\  and  thru  sliirk  it  on. 


314  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

pitch-wood  made  into  torches,  ready  to  Hght,  and  to  come  to  him 
when  he  called.  He  added,  "  If  you  do  not  attend  to  this,  you  will  not 
get  much  to  eat."  The  first  night  Wren  slept,  and  for  a  long  time  did 
not  hear  Wolf  shout.  When  he  reached  Wolf,  the  latter  had  just 
finished  eating  the  deer.  The  next  night  Wren  waked  up  just  in  time 
to  reach  Wolf  when  only  the  feet  of  the  deer  were  left.  The  following 
night  he  awoke  in  time  to  reach  Wolf  when  about  half  the  deer  had 
been  consumed.  After  that,  he  always  waked  when  Wolf  shouted  the 
first  time,  and  thus  w'as  always  on  hand  to  receive  his  share  of  the  meat. 

Wolf  was  a  great  hunter,  and  had  many  observances  to  retain  his  luck. 
He  told  \\'ren  to  be  particular  never  to  throw  water  in  which  meat 
had  been  boiled  near  the  door  of  the  house,  as  he  might  tread  on  it 
when  he  went  hunting.  He  also  told  him  never  to  eat  any  of  the 
hardened  grease  w'hich  had  been  thrown  on  the  ground  along  with 
the  water  in  which  fat  meat  had  been  boiled.  He  said,  "  There  is 
plenty  of  good  fat  in  the  house:  always  eat  that."  Wolf  was  very 
successful  in  hunting,  and  soon  had  the  house  full  of  good  meat,  fat, 
and  deer-skins. 

One  day  Wren  disobeyed  orders,  and  ate  some  grease  from  ofT  the 
ground.  At  once  all  the  meat,  fat,  and  skins  in  the  house  became 
alive,  and,  assuming  the  form  of  deer,  ran  off  and  left  him.  Wolf  came 
home,  and,  finding  Wren  asleep  and  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house,  became 
very  angry,  and  kicked  Wren  in  the  back.  Then  he  struck  him  in  the 
face,  and  thrashed  him  soundly,  and  transformed  him  into  the  wren 
which  we  see  at  the  present  day,  saying,  "  Henceforth  you  shall  be 
known  as  the  wren-bird,  and  you  shall  nevermore  eat  deer-meat." 

14.    OWLi 

Owl  lived  alone  in  an  underground  house  on  Owl  Creck.^  In  the 
neighboring  country  lived  a  number  of  people  near  together  in  under- 
ground houses.  In  one  house  was  a  girl  who  constantly  cried  and 
fretted,  thus  annoying  the  people  very  much.  The  people  became 
angry;  and  her  parents  said  to  her,  "  Owl  will  come  and  take  you  some 
day  if  you  don't  stop  crying." 

One  night,  after  the  people  had  all  fallen  asleep,  Owl  came  to  the 
house  carrying  his  basket,  which  was  half  full  of  frogs,  toads,  snakes, 
and  insects.  An  old  man  in  the  house,  who  had  Owl  for  his  manitou, 
knew  when  Owl  came,  and  understood  what  would  happen;  but  he 
said  nothing.  The  girl  was  crying:  so  Owl  took  her,  put  her  into  his 
basket,  and  went  away  with  her.  The  people  noticed  that  the  girl 
had  stopped  crying;  but  they  did  not  know  (with  the  exception  of  the 

'  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  63  (Thompson);  Tcit,  The  Shiiswap,  p.  698;  Hill-Tout, 
Anlhrop.  Inst,  xxxiv,  p.  347. 

'  Owl  Creek  is  a  northwestern  tributary  of  the  Pole  River. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      3 1 5 

old  man)  that  Owl  had  taken  her,  nor  had  they  expected  that  the 
threats  of  her  parents  would  be  fulfilled. 

Owl  took  the  girl  home,  and  she  became  his  wife.  He  was  a  great 
hunter,  and  every  day  was  successful  in  the  chase;  but  his  wife  would 
not  eat  the  snakes  and  frogs  which  he  killed  and  brought  home.  She 
became  very  hungry:  so  one  day,  seeing  Crow  near  by,  she  asked  him 
to  go  to  her  mother,  and  tell  her  the  plight  she  was  in,  and  ask  her 
to  give  him  some  dried  salmon,  dried  berries,  and  salmon-oil.  Crow 
went.  He  met  the  girl's  mother  on  her  way  to  her  food-cache  and 
delivered  her  daughter's  message.  She  would  not  take  Crow's  word 
at  first,  as  she  thought  her  daughter  was  dead,^  but  finally  believed 
him  and  gave  him  the  food  he  asked  for.  Crow  at  once  hastened  back 
and  delivered  it  to  the  girl. 

That  day  the  girl  put  some  of  the  oil  on  her  hair,  face,  and  body. 
When  Owl  came  home,  he  noticed  it,  and  asked  what  she  had  put  on 
to  make  her  look  so  nice  and  shiny.  She  told  him  that  it  was  gum 
she  had  gathered  from  the  trees.  He  said  he  would  like  her  to  put 
some  on  him  too.  She  told  him  if  he  went  and  got  some,  she  would 
put  it  on  him.  So  he  went,  and  soon  returned  with  a  large  quantity 
of  gum.  Now  the  girl  put  the  gum  into  a  basket,  heated  some  stones, 
and  put  them  in  also.  When  the  gum  had  nearly  melted,  she  said  to 
Owl,  "  Shut  your  eyes!  I  will  now  anoint  you."  She  put  some  of  the 
pitch  all  over  his  body,  but  most  of  it  she  put  on  his  head  and  face. 
When  the  gum  dried,  Owl  could  not  open  his  c>'es:  so  the  girl  ran 
away.  Eventuall>'  .she  reached  the  house  of  her  parents,  and  narrated 
to  them  her  adventures. 

When  Owl  had  gotten  all  the  pitch  off  his  body,  and  was  able  to  see 
well  again,  he  went  io  search  for  his  wife.  As  he  went  along,  he  cried, 
"  Oo,  <jo,  00!  Where  is  my  girl?  Where  is  ni\  wife?  "  When  the 
people  heard  him  approaching,  the>-  hid  the  girl  !)>•  putting  her  into  a 
hole.  Owl  came  to  the  top  of  the  ladder,  and  said,  "  Iloot-a-hoo,  00, 
00!  Where  is  my  wife?  "  rhe\-  said,  "  She  is  here.  Come  down 
and  see  her!  "  When  Owl  descended,  tlie>'  p(jinte(l  out  a  girl  to  him; 
but,  seeing  that  she  was  not  his  wife,  he  departed,  cr\ing  as  before. 

lie  went  (o  all  th(j  other  houses  and  seanh(<l  llicin.  lie  .ilso  tore 
down  the  salmon-caches,  and  searched  through  tlieni.  lie  became 
angry  and  went  to  the  trees.  He  tore  tlu-m  u|)  li>'  the  roots,  and  split 
theni  a-uiider.  Wlicn  he  did  not  find  her,  lie  nlurned  to  tin-  house 
in  which  she  was  hidden,  and  said,  "  Th.it  w.is  not  m>-  wile  \'ou  showed 
me.  I  know  my  wife  is  hen-."  Then  In*  bei^.in  to  tear  down  the 
house.  The  people  became  afraid,  and  told  tin-  girl  to  show  herself. 
When  Owl  s;iw  her,  he  was  appeased  at  once,  and  staid  with  her. 

«  Some  say  the  wnman  thouglit  llial  Crow  was  trying  to  di-oivi-  In  i  i.i  iIh-  pur|)osc  of 
getting  food  for  him.Mcif. 


3 16  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

The  girl's  father  told  the  \ouiig  men  to  take  Owl  to  sweat-bathe. 
They  made  the  stones  very  hot;  and  when  Owl  was  inside,  they  pushed 
him  on  the  stones,  held  him  down,  and  burned  him  until  he  was  nearly 
dead.  Then  they  transformed  him  into  an  owl,  saying,  "  Henceforth 
>ou  shall  be  an  owl,  and  shall  inhabit  the  mountains,  living  on  frogs, 
mice,  and  snakes,  and  jieople  will  lu-ar  you  at  night  crying  for  your 
wife." ' 

15.     THE    GIRL    AND   THE    DOG  " 

A  girl  who  lived  near  the  sea  had  a  dog  that  always  follow'ed  her. 
She  was  in  love  with  the  dog.  One  day  she  lay  down  and  rubbed 
animal  grease  on  her  abdomen,  and  thus  seduced  the  dog.  The  girl 
became  pregnant;  and  w^hen  her  father  learned  that  she  had  conceived 
by  the  dog,  he  killed  it,  and  left  his  daughter  alone  to  her  fate.  They 
never  came  back  again  to  that  place.     Some  say  they  migrated  north. 

Some  time  after  all  the  people  had  gone,  the  girl  gave  birth  to  four 
male  pups  and  one  female  pup.  She  supported  herself  and  her  children 
with  clams,  which  she  dug  at  every  ebb-tide.  One  night  it  was  raining : 
so  she  covered  herself  w^ith  a  mat  of  cedar-bark,  and  went  to  the  shore 
to  dig  clams  by  the  light  of  a  torch.  When  the  children  saw  by  the 
light  that  she  was  busy,  they  took  off  their  dog-skins,  and  began  to 
play  around  the  fireplace.  The  girl  took  oflf  her  skin  from  the  upper 
part  of  her  body  only,  as  she  was  ashamed.  Every  little  while  one  of 
the  children  went  to  see  if  their  mother  was  coming.  When  they  saw 
her  approaching,  they  put  on  their  dog-skins  again.  Their  mother  saw 
the  footprints  near  the  fire,  where  they  had  been  running  and  dancing. 
There  were  tracks  of  children's  feet,  and  not  of  dogs'  feet.  She  then 
knew  that  her  children  were  really  human,  and  was  very  glad. 

The  following  night  the  children  did  the  same  as  before.  On  the 
third  night  the  woman  went,  as  usual,  to  dig  clams,  but  made  up  her 
mind  to  deceive  the  children.  She  stuck  her  torch  on  the  beach,  and 
hung  her  mat  on  a  stick  near  by.  The  children  thought  she  was  still 
there,  and  kept  on  playing.  She  peered  into  the  house,  and  saw  that 
the  boys  had  laid  their  dog-skins  aside,  and  that  the  girl  had  removed 
hers  clear  dow^n  to  the  ankles.  She  ran  in  suddenly,  snatched  away  the 
dog-skins,  and  threw  them  into  the  fire.  She  held  the  girl's  feet  in 
the  fire,  and  singed  off  the  dog's  hair.  The  children  w^ere  ashamed,  so 
she  made  them  clothes  of  cedar-bark.  She  let  them  wash  every  day, 
and  they  grew  fast. 

'  The  Lillooft  friglitcn  children  with  the  owl,  and  narrate  to  them  this  story  in  cor- 
roboration of  what  they  say  about  the  owl  being  liable  to  take  away  children  who  cry. 

*  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  62  (Thompson);  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  354  (Nicola);  Boas, 
Sagen,  pp.  25  (Eraser  Delta),  93  (Comox),  114  (Nootka),  132  (Kwakiutl),  263  (Bella 
Coola);  Hill-Tout,  Report  igoo,  p.  536  (Squamish);  Farrand,  Chilcotin,  p.  7;  Farrand, 
QuinauU,  p.  127;  Boas,  Chinook,  p.  17;  Boas,  Kathlamet,  p.  155;  also  widely  spread  in 
other  parts  of  America  (see  refeiences,  for  instance,  in  Farrand,  QuinauU,  p.  127;  also 
A.  L.  Kroeber,  "Cheyenne  Tales,"  Journ.  Am.  Folk-Lore,  vol.  xiii  [1900],  p.  182). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  hidians  of  British  Columbia     317 

When  they  had  reached  maturity,  she  said  to  them,  "  I  wish  you  to 
occupy  yourselves  each  with  a  particular  kind  of  work.  Vou  will 
now  each  choose  what  you  will  do."  One  said,  "  I  will  be  a  hunter, 
and  will  hunt  land-game."  The  next  said,  "  I  will  be  a  fisherman, 
I  will  catch  fish,  and  will  spear  seals  and  sea-game."  Another  said, 
"  I  will  make  canoes  and  tools."  The  fourth  one  said,  "  I  will  split 
and  hew  cedar,  and  will  make  a  house."  The  girl  said,  "  I  will  spin, 
and  make  blankets  from  the  hair  of  the  goats  my  brother  shoots." 
Thenceforth  ihe\-  all  occupied  themselves  at  their  several  tasks. 

They  built  a  large  house,  which  they  filled  with  food  and  blankets. 
The  mother  had  told  her  two  sons  who  worked  in  wood  to  be  sure  not 
to  set  fire  to  the  chips  and  shavings,  but  carefully  to  preserve  them. 
Then  she  collected  them  all  together,  so  that  they  made  a  great  pile, 
and,  taking  them  up  in  her  arms,  she  threw  them  up  into  the  air,  and 
they  became  people,  and  the  place  was  at  once  thickly  populated. 
After  feasting  the  people,  and  clothing  them,  she  told  them  that  thence- 
forth the>-  should  pnnide  for  themselves.  This  they  did,  and  they 
built  many  houses,  so  there  came  to  be  a  large  village  there.  Her 
children  married  among  these  people.  As  the  chips  and  shavings  were 
wood  of  many  kinds  of  trees,  differing  very  much  in  color,  the  jK'ople 
also  differed  in  the  color  of  their  skins.  Some  were  white,  others  red, 
some  brown,  and  some  yellow.  That  is  the  reason  these  shades  are 
to  be  found  among  the  Indians  at  the  present  day. 

16.    R.WIiN' 

Four  women  lived  together  in  one  house.  Their  names  were 
Xwitx  ,-  Blueja>',  CVow,  and  Snail.  They  had  gathered  and  cured  a 
great  (|uaiuity  of  berries  during  the  season;  and  Xwitx'  wished  to  take 
a  large  present  of  berrii-s  to  lu-r  daughter,  who  li\i'(|  ddwii  on  the 
Lower  Fraser.^  The  women  could  not  go  alone,  for  they  had  no 
canoe,  and,  besides,  the>'  needed  a  man  to  ac(T)nipany  them.  They 
f|t(  idcd  to  iii\ite  R.i\cii  to  go  with  ihcm:  so  Xwitx'  \w\\\  and  aske<l 
him.  lie  (on-cnied,  but  told  tlutn  it  was  an  enem>''s  coimtr>'  they 
would  trM\el  through,  and  there  would  be  much  dangt-r  in  the  journey. 

\\  htii  the>'  h.id  beiii  |)a(ldling  two  (la\s.  ka\cn  told  the  women  to 
paddle  to  the  shore,  for  he  must  go  ashore  to  ease  himself.  ( ioing 
downstream  some  distance,  he  defecated  and  urinated,  and  told  his 
excrements  to  shout  loudl\  ,  whi(  li  llu  \  did.  k.iM-n  h.islened  back 
to  the  canoe,  and  told  the  women  to  hide  themM-Ki's,  for  enemii-s  were 
coming  to  attack  them.      I'he  women  beliexid   Raven's  story  when 

'  Sec  Boas.  Sagfti,  pp  76  (Comux).  107  (Ncx)tka),  178  (Kwakiutl),  3io  (Bella  Bdlu), 
244  (Brlla  Coola). 

*  xu'Ux'  or  xti'Ut.  a  small  bird  which  makcH  a  wliiMtljuK  noiiw. 

•  Somr  say  slir  livrd  on  the  itcacoaitt,  tn-ar  tin-  iiiouih  of  ihr  Kranrr. 


3 1 8  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

ihcy  heard  the  shouting:  so  they  ran,  and  hid  in  the  bushes.  Snail, 
being  very  slow,  did  not  try  to  reach  the  bushes,  but  hid  near  the 
water's  edge.  Then  Raven  hit  the  canoe  with  his  paddle,  shouted, 
and  made  a  great  noise.  The  women  thought  he  was  fighting.  After 
some  time,  all  was  quiet,  and  they  thought  he  must  be  dead. 

Now,  Ra\'en  had  eaten  all  the  berries,  fresh  and  dried,  and,  taking 
the  juice  from  the  bottoms  of  the  baskets,  had  emptied  it  over  his 
body  and  head.  Having  done  this,  he  lay  down  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe,  and  covered  himself  over  with  cedar-bark  mats.  At  last  the 
women  ventured  to  go  to  the  canoe,  and  there  they  found  Raven  lying 
in  the  bottom.  He  said,  "  We  must  return  home  with  all  speed.  I 
am  badly  wounded,  and  our  enemies  may  attack  us  again."  So  the 
women  got  into  the  canoe,  and  paddled  toward  home. 

Next  day.  Snail,  who  was  suspicious  of  Raven,  said,  "  Let  me  see 
your  wounds!  "  Raven  answered,  "  No.  You  must  not  uncover  me. 
I  am  all  cut  up,  and  shall  die  if  I  am  uncovered."  When  they  got  near 
home,  a  young  man  met  the  canoe,  and  the  women  related  their 
story  to  him.  He  said,  "  Raven  lies.  He  is  not  wounded.  He  has 
eaten  all  your  berries."  So  he  tore  the  mats  away  from  Raven,  and 
exposed  him,  all  covered  with  the  berry-juice,  which  had  dried  on  him. 

17.     BALD-HEADED    EAGLE  ^ 

Bald-Headed  Eagle  lived  in  an  underground  house  near  Pemberton.^ 
He  had  as  servants  Bluejay,  Crow,  and  Frog.  In  another  underground 
house  not  far  away  lived  Hawk  (Ataa't),  Golden-Eagle  (Hala'u),  and 
all  the  other  birds.  Up  the  Pole  River,  at  no  great  distance,  lived 
other  people,  among  whom  was  the  sweetheart  of  Hawk,  who  was 
noted  for  her  beauty.  The  day  arrived  that  the  girl  should  go  to  her 
intended  husband:  so,  taking  her  baskets  and  her  mats  on  her  back, 
she  started  out.  She  travelled  toward  a  fish-dam  on  which  she  in- 
tended to  cross  the  river.  When  she  arrived  there,  she  saw  Bald-Head' 
engaged  in  taking  away  driftwood  which  had  floated  against  the  dam. 
There  was  no  room  for  her  to  pass  him,  so  she  requested  him  to  make 
way.  She  first  addressed  him  by  name,  with  no  result.  Then  she 
said,  "  Man,  let  me  pass!  "  but  he  never  heeded  her.  Then,  "  Friend, 
let  me  pass!  "  but  he  paid  no  attention.  Then  she  addressed  him  as 
brother,  but  he  did  not  notice  her.  At  last  she  said,  "  Husband,  let 
me  pass!  "  Then  he  embraced  her,  saying,  "  Why  did  you  not  say 
that  at  first?  "     He  took  her  home  with  him,  intending  to  marry  her. 

'  See  Teit,  Tradilions,  p.  67  (Thompson);  Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  243  (Uta'mqt),  345 
(Nicola);  Teit,  The  Shtiswap,  p.  684. 

*  About  half  a  mile  above  the  present  bridge  at  Pcmberton  Indian  Reserve. 

'  In  another  version,  collected  among  the  Lillooet  of  the  Lakes  and  of  Eraser  River,  it 
is  said  that  she  came  to  a  bridge,  which  was  in  reality  the  penis  of  Bald-Head. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     319 

That  evening  a  boy  came  from  Hawk's  house  to  obtain  fire,  and, 
seeing  a  good-looking  woman  there,  he  hastened  back,  and  said  to 
Hawk,  "  A  girl  who  looks  much  like  your  sweetheart  is  sitting  in 
Bald-Head's  house."  The  birds  at  once  made  up  their  minds  to  get 
her,  and  laid  plans  accordingly.  All  of  them  w^ent  down  into  Bald- 
Head's  house  to  play  Ichal  with  his  servants,  w'hile  Hawk  and  Golden- 
Eagle  staid  outside  near  the  top  of  the  ladder.  They  had  buckets  of 
water  with  them.  Some  of  the  birds  continued  playing  lehal,  while 
others  kept  adding  fuel  to  the  fire,  until  the  house  got  so  warm  that 
the  woman  said  to  Bald-Head,  "  I  must  go  outside  and  cool  myself." 
As  soon  as  she  reached  the  top  of  the  house,  the  watchers  outside  threw 
water  down  on  the  fire,  and  extinguished  it:  so  the  house  became  dark, 
and  full  of  dust  and  smoke.  Bald-Head  now  knew  that  a  trick  had 
been  played  on  him,  so  he  began  to  strike  at  the  birds  as  they  ran  out. 
By  this  time,  Hawk  and  Golden-Eagle  had  run  away  with  the  woman 
to  their  own  house. 

Bald-Head  was  angry  because  he  had  not  succeeded  in  getting  the 
woman  to  be  his  wife:  so  next  morning  he  put  on  four  breastplates  of 
birch-bark,  one  above  the  other,  and,  going  over  to  Hawk's  house,  he 
challenged  the  inmates  to  combat,  one  by  one.  The  small  birds  went 
out  first,  and  were  easily  killed  by  Bald-Head.  Then,  one  after 
another,  the  three  largest  and  fiercest  hawks  went  out;  and  each  of 
them,  before  being  vanquished  by  Bald-Head,  managed  to  break  one 
of  his  breastplates.  Then  the  woman  combed  the  hair  of  Golden- 
Eagle,  and  he  went  out  to  battle.  After  a  fierce  struggle,  he  broke 
the  remaining  cuirass  of  Bald-Head,  but  was  himself  killed.  Then 
the  woman  combed  Hawk's  hair,  and  he  went  out  to  fight.  It  was  an 
even  struggle  now,  for  Bald-Head  was  unprotected  by  armor;  and 
before  very  long  Hawk  killed  him. 

Each  bird  killed  had  been  beheaded:  so  Hawk  gathered  all  the  birds' 
bodies  and  heads  together  in  a  heap,  jumped  over  them,  and  they 
became  alive.  Then  he  put  the  head  of  Bakl-Headed  Eagle  on  his  body, 
and,  jumping  over  him,  he  became  alive  also.  Now,  Hawk  transformed 
thcni  all  into  the  birds  we  know  by  their  names  at  the  present  day.' 

18.     TIIK    SLAVE    WHO   MARRIED    BALDHEAD's   DAUGHTER* 

A  great  chief  lived  near  the  sea.  He  had  two  wives,  —  one  an  old 
woman,  and  the  other  very  young,  —  and  he  usuall>-  staid  with  the 

'  In  the  version  referred  to  before,  Bald-Head  is  scalix-d.  Tin-  I-ish-IIawk  restores  him; 
as  tluTc  was  no  skin  on  the  head.  Balil-IIi-ad  is  Ijald  up  to  this  day.  Compare  Tell,  Tradi- 
tions. Note  217.  p.  1 1. J. 

*  This  story  is  clearly  a  combination  of  elements  characteristic  of  the  folk-lore  of  the 
coast  tribes  north  of  Vancouver  Island,  but  arranseil    in  a  somewhat    novel  form.     Sec. 
for  some  of  thes«"  elements.  Boas  and   Hunt,  Kwakiutl  Texts,  iii,  p.  365;  Boas.  Tsimshian 
Texts.  Publications  of  the  American  lUhmAoi^ical  Siuielv,  vol.  iii.  pp.   loy  et  seq. 
VOL.   XXV. — NO.  98.  —  21 


320  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

older  one.  The  chief  had  four  slaves,  all  young  men;  and  they,  noti- 
cing that  their  master  neglected  his  young  wife,  who  was  generally  left 
to  sleep  by  herself,  prompted  one  another  to  take  advantage  of  the  fact. 
Two  nights  they  did  this,  but  each  one  of  them  was  afraid  to  act. 
At  last,  on  the  third  night,  the  youngest  one  said  he  would  go.  Tying  a 
board  to  his  back,  he  went  to  where  his  master's  wife  slept,  and  lay 
with  her  all  night. 

That  night  the  chief  went  to  see  his  young  wife,  and,  finding  the  man 
with  her,  he  called  the  other  slaves,  and  told  them  to  take  the  culprit 
in  a  canoe  far  out  to  sea,  and  throw  him  overboard.  The  chief  did 
not  know  that  the  man  had  a  board  fastened  to  his  back,  for  it  was 
underneath  his  shirt.  The  slaves  took  him  in  a  canoe  far  out  to  sea, 
and  threw  him  overboard.  The  man  floated  on  the  board  for  several 
daj's,  the  wind  and  currents  gradually  taking  him  nearer  the  land. 
At  last,  when  he  was  near  the  shore,  a  strong  gale  arose,  and  blew  him 
out  of  the  water  and  up  among  the  trees.  Then  he  took  off  the  board, 
lighted  a  fire,  and  slept.  Twice  a  voice  woke  him,  saying,  "  Come 
here!"  The  third  time  it  called,  he  saw  the  short-tailed  Mouse 
speaking  to  him.  When  Mouse  saw  that  she  was  noticed,  she  dis- 
appeared in  the  grass.  The  man  went  to  the  spot  where  Mouse  had 
been,  and  saw  at  the  roots  of  the  grass  what  appeared  to  be  the  entrance 
to  a  house.  He  went  in  and  found  Bald-Headed  Eagle  there,  who 
treated  him  very  kindly,  and  gave  him  his  daughter  to  wife. 

Some  time  aftenvards,  Bald-Head,  who  was  a  chief,  said  to  his  son- 
in-law,  "  The  salmon  will  arrive  to-day.  Go  with  the  young  men  and 
catch  some.  I  will  give  you  a  magic  blanket  to  put  on,  which  will 
enable  you  to  dive  and  to  fiy.  When  you  see  the  salmon  coming  up 
the  stream,  you  must  be  careful  to  let  the  first  one  pass,  because  it  is 
'  mysterious.'  "  ^  Reaching  the  stream  where  the  salmon  were  to  come, 
they  took  up  their  positions  in  some  large  trees  near  the  water's  edge. 
When  the  salmon  appeared,  the  man  pounced  down  on  the  first  one, 
which  was  some  distance  in  the  lead  of  the  rest;  but  the  fish  pulled 
him  under  water.  His  brother-in-law  caught  hold  of  him  to  save  him, 
and  one  of  the  young  men  grasped  the  brother-in-law,  and  so  on  with 
the  rest,  one  behind  the  other;  but  all  of  them  were  gradually  pulled 
under  the  water,  except  the  last  one.^  Finally  the  young  man's  wife 
came:  she  dived  and  with  a  shell  knife  which  she  carried  in  her  hand 
cut  her  husband  loose  from  the  salmon.  Then  she  pulled  them  all 
out,  and  they  returned  to  their  seats  in  the  trees.  Before  long,  more 
salmon  came;  and  the  men  swooped  down  on  them,  cr.ught  many,  and 
soon  filled  a  canoe  with  them. 

'  Or  endowed  with  magic. 

'  Some  say  this  man  shouted  loudly,  and  the  woman,  hearing  his  cries  for  help,  ran  to 
their  assistance. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     321 

Some  time  after  this  the  man  said  to  his  father-in-law,  "  I  wish  to 
travel,  and  should  like  to  borrow  your  magic  blanket."  Bald-Head 
lent  him  the  blanket,  and  the  man  flew  away  to  the  home  of  the  chief 
whose  slave  he  had  been.  He  saw  the  chief  come  out  of  his  house,  and 
at  once  pounced  upon  him.  His  slaves  came  to  the  rescue;  but  he 
flew  away  with  them  all  to  seaward,  and  let  them  drop  into  the  ocean 
far  from  land,  where  all  were  drowned.  Then  he  took  up  his  abode 
in  his  former  master's  house,  and  lived  there  for  some  time.* 

His  wife  grew  anxious,  and  wondered  why  her  husband  did  not 
return:  so  she  and  her  brothers  took  a  large  canoe  and  started  out  to 
search  for  him.  The  canoe  had  a  bald-headed  eagle's  head  at  the  prow, 
and  another  at  the  stern.  They  fed  the  heads  food  and  water;  and 
the  canoe  rushed  along  of  its  own  accord,  and  needed  no  paddling. 
In  due  time  they  reached  the  place  where  the  man  was  living;  and  the 
latter,  when  he  saw  them,  gave  a  feast. 

After  a  few  days  the  brothers  returned  in  their  double-headed  canoe, 
and  left  their  sister  with  her  husband.  She  gave  birth  to  a  boy,  who 
grew  rapidly.  The  husband  always  fetched  water  for  his  wife;  and 
each  day,  when  he  arrived  at  the  watering-place,  he  saw  a  beautiful 
woman,  who  tempted  him.  For  a  long  time  he  rejected  her  advances. 
Each  day,  when  he  brought  home  the  water,  his  wife  plucked  an  eagle- 
feather  from  her  wing,  and  dipped  it  in  the  bucket  of  water  to  find  out 
whether  her  husband  had  been  faithful  or  not.  She  told  him,  tliat,  if 
he  fell  under  the  power  of  the  woman,  he  would  die. 

One  day  not  long  after  this,  when  he  was  at  the  watering-place,  he 
became  unable  to  resist  the  woman.  When  he  reached  home,  his 
wife  dipiK'd  a  feather  in  the  water  as  usual,  and  at  once  knew  what 
her  husband  liad  done.  She  left  him,  and  started  for  her  father's 
house,  accomi^anied  by  her  .son,  walking  on  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
Her  husband  follcnved,  entreating  her  to  return.  She  spoke  to  him 
without  turning  around  to  look  at  him,  saying,  "  Go  back!  If  you 
continue  to  follow  us,  and  I  look  at  you,  you  will  sink."  She  told  him 
this  three  limes,  but  the  husband  persisted  in  following  them.  Then 
the  wife  looked  back  at  him,  and  he  at  once  sank  under  the  water  and 
was  drowned.     The  W(jnian  reached  her  father's  house  with  her  son. 

\i).     TIIK   GRIZZLY-BEARS   AM)    Till':    HLACK-BKARS 
Four  brothers  lived  with  their  sister  in  a  house*  near  Pole  River.' 
They  built  a  dam  a(  ross  the  river,  as  they  were  expecting  the  annual 
salmon-run.     When  they  had  finished  the  dam,  they  left  their  sister 

•  Some  say  he  Uvctl  with  hU  former  master's  wives,  while  others  say  he  killed  them  too. 

*  Some  say  an  underRround  house. 

»  Pole  River  is  the  northern  trihutary  of  the  Upper  I.illooet  River,  and  falls  into  the 
latter  at  Pemberton  Meailows,  just  above  the  head  of  Bin  Lillooet  Lake. 


322  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

to  watch  it,  and  went  hunting  in  the  mountains  west  of  Pemberton 
Meadows.  The  day  after  her  brothers  had  left,  the  girl  went  to  the 
dam  and  found  one  salmon,  which  she  caught,  rolled  up  carefully  in 
her  robe,  and  took  home.  That  evening  she  put  it  on  a  stick,  and 
roasted  it  in  front  of  the  fire.  When  it  was  nearly  ready  to  eat,  she 
heard  some  one  call,  "  Cali'tcia!  "  '  and  she  at  once  fell  asleep.  It  was 
Grizzly- Bear- Woman  who  called.  She  entered,  and  ate  the  fish. 
When  the  girl  awoke,  she  found  the  salmon  gone.  Next  day  she 
took  two  salmon  at  the  dam.  When  they  were  nearly  roasted,  Grizzly- 
Bear- Woman  called,  and  she  at  once  fell  asleep.  When  she  awoke,  the 
fish  had  disappeared.  The  following  day  she  caught  three  salmon  at 
the  dam,  and  the  same  thing  happened. 

The  brothers  were  aware  that  something  was  wrong  at  home:  so 
they  returned  to  their  sister,  who  told  them  what  had  happened. 
That  day  they  went  to  the  dam,  and  caught  four  salmon,  which  they 
put  on  sticks  before  the  fire  to  roast.  Then  they  hid  themselves. 
They  said,  "  If  Grizzly-Bear-Woman  eats  or  takes  away  all  the  fish, 
we  will  kill  her." 

Grizzly-Bear-Woman  appeared,  and,  seeing  only  the  girl,  she  called, 
"  Cali'tcia!  "  and  at  once  the  latter  fell  asleep.  Grizzly-Bear-Woman 
ate  three  of  the  salmon,  and  then  left.  The  brothers  followed  her  some 
distance,  and  then  turned  back,  excepting  the  eldest,  w'ho  followed 
her  to  her  house.  There  he  found  Grizzly-Bear- Woman  with  her  sister, 
Black-Bear.  Each  of  them  cooked  some  berries  and  roots  for  him. 
He  ate  what  they  gave  him;  but  he  found  Black-Bear's  food  much 
better  cooked,  of  better  quality,  and  more  palatable,  than  Grizzly- 
Bear's.  He  married  both  the  Bears,  and  thenceforth  lived  with  them. 
Grizzly-Bear-Woman's  name  was  Tsemxa'litc,  Black-Bear-Woman's 
name  was  Hu'kami'.  Black-Bear,  however,  was  his  favorite  wife,  and 
Grizzly-Bear  was  jealous  of  her  sister.  Each  of  his  wives  bore  him 
four  daughters. 

Grizzly-Bear- Woman  made  up  her  mind  to  kill  her  sister,  her  hus- 
band, and  her  sister's  children:  so  one  day  she  said  to  her  husband, 
"  Come  along  with  me!  I  am  going  to  dig  roots.  You  can  help  me 
to  carry  them  home." 

[The  rest  of  this  story  is  like  Talc  xxii,  "Traditions  of  the  Thompson 
River  Indians,"  p.  69,  commencing  with  the  sixth  line  from  the  beginning 
of  the  story,  and  continuing  to  the  end.^  The  following  are  the  only  dif- 
ferences: — 

I.   p.   71,  9th  line  from   top.     Meadow-Lark  said,   "Look  at   the  claws," 
instead  of,  "You  are  eating  your  own  child." 

»  Some  say  that  this  was  the  sister's  name. 

*  Sec  also  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  16  (Thompson),  81  (Comox);  Boas  and  Hunt,  Kwakiutl 
Texts,  X,  p.  is;  Tcit,  Mythology,  p.  218  (Uta'mqt);  Hill-Tout,  Folk-Lore,  p.  195;  Hill-Tout. 
Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxiv,  p.  360. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      323 

2.  p.  71,  14th  line  from  bottom.     When  Kwo'ncqa'  asked  her  to  sit  down 

on  the  unpatched  hole,  Grisly  Bear  asked,  "What  hole  is  that?"  and 
Kwon'eqa  answered,  "It  is  the  rectum  of  the  canoe." 

3.  p.  71,  9th  line  from  bottom.     She  did  not  land,  but  died  in  the  canoe, 

and  Kwo'neqa  threw  her  body  into  the  river,  and  Coyote  found   it 
and  drew  it  out. 

4.  p.  71,  3d  line  from  bottom.     The  Lillooet  say  "some  boys,"  instead  of 

"the  Fo.x." 

5.  p.  72,  1st  line  from  top.     The  boys  also  stuck  a  stick  in  Coyote's  back.] 

20.     THE   MALE   GRIZZLY-BEAR  ^ 

An  old  woman  lived  in  an  underground  house  with  her  grandson. 
One  day  she  said  to  him,  "  Go  and  soak  some  salmon  in  the  water."' 
He  took  the  salmon  and  laid  it  on  the  beach;  then,  after  throwing 
water  on  his  legs,  he  returned,  and  said,  "  Look  at  my  legs!  I  have 
placed  the  salmon  in  a  deep  place:  there  is  no  danger  of  any  one  steal- 
ing it." 

Next  morning  the  lad  said  to  his  grandmother,  "  Heat  the  stones 
ready  for  boiling.  I  will  go  and  get  the  salmon."  In  a  short  time  he 
returned,  and  told  her  that  some  one  had  stolen  it.  She  said,  "  I 
believe  you  did  not  put  it  into  the  water."  Then  she  gave  him  some 
more,  and  told  him  to  be  sure  and  put  it  into  the  water,  out  of  reach 
of  any  one. 

He  went  to  the  creek,  and  placed  the  fish  near  the  edge  of  the  water. 
After  wading  up  to  the  waist,  he  returned,  and  showed  his  grandmother 
how  wet  he  was,  saying,  "  I  put  it  in  a  deeper  place  this  time.  See! 
the  water  reached  to  my  waist." 

The  next  morning,  after  telling  the  old  woman  to  heat  the  stones, 
he  went  to  get  the  fish.  Returning  presentl>-,  he  said  to  her,  "  The 
salmon  is  gone.  I  think  the  Grizzly-Bear  must  have  eaten  it.  I  will 
kill  him  for  stealing  the  salmon."  The  old  woman  said,  "  You  ought 
not  to  talk  so.  The  Grizzly-Bear  will  kill  you  if  nou  try  to  shoot  him. 
He  is  a  dangerous  enemy,  and  has  killed  rnan>'  uK-n;  and  sou  are  only 
a  lad." 

The  boy,  never  heeding  what  his  grandmother  said,  made  a  bt)W 
and  arrows,  and  laid  some  salmon  near  the  water's  edge.  Then  he 
concealed  himself,  and  waited  for  the  Grizzly-Bear  to  appear.  He 
came;  and,  when  he  was  just  in  the  act  of  taking  the  salmon,  the  boy 
shot  him.  Tin-  arrow  pas.sed  through  his  body  in  a  vital  place,  and 
kilkd  him. 

The  boy  went  home  and  told  his  grandmollur  what  he  had  dcjne, 

'  This  is  Iho  LillfH)rt  pronunciution  of  the  name 

*  Compare  Boas.  Chinook  Texts,  p.  ng;  J.  Owrii  Dorsey.  The  Cegiha  Language,  p.  3a 
(Ponca);  also  Tcit.  Traditions,  p.  75;  Toil.  The  Shuswap,  pp.  679,  751. 

*  Indians  generally  soak  dried  salmon  or  trout  for  a  day  before  boilinK  it. 


3-4  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

addinj;,  "  I  just  had  to  shoot  him  once.  Now,  you  had  better  come 
and  help  me  skin  him."  She  would  not  believe  him  at  first,  but  at 
last  consented  to  go  with  him.  When  they  had  taken  off  the  skin  and 
cut  the  body  up,  the  lad  asked  his  grandmother  if  she  desired  any 
particular  part  to  eat.  She  answered,  "  I  do  not  wish  any."  For- 
merly, people  never  ate  the  meat  of  grizzly  bears.  He  did  not  heed  her 
words,  and  offered  her  one  part  of  the  animal  after  another,  —  first 
the  skin,  then  the  head,  then  the  fore-legs,  the  hind-legs,  the  liver,  the 
heart,  etc.,  —  but  she  refused  them  all.  At  last  he  offered  her  the 
runi[)  and  the  membrum  virile.  These  she  accepted,  saying,  "  Thank 
you.  These  are  just  the  parts  I  want."  She  tied  them  up  in  her 
strap  to  take  home,  and  the  lad  also  made  up  a  pack  of  the  meat  to 
carry  home. 

They  started  together,  but  had  only  gone  a  few  yards,  when  his 
grandmother's  strap  broke,  she  fell  down,  and  the  Grizzly-Bear's 
membrum  penetrated  her.  She  tied  the  meat  up  again;  but  every 
few  yards  her  strap  would  break,  and,  as  she  lay  on  the  ground,  the 
same  act  would  be  repeated.  The  lad  left  her,  and  continued  on  his 
way  with  his  load.  He  cooked  some  meat  when  he  got  home,  and  also 
boiled  and  roasted  bones  to  break  for  the  marrow. 

Toward  evening  his  grandmother  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  ladder; 
but.  just  when  she  was  about  to  descend,  her  pack-strap  broke,  and 
the  same  thing  happened  as  before.  She  fixed  her  strap  again,  and  tied 
her  burden  up;  but,  just  when  she  reached  the  bottom  of  the  ladder, 
it  broke  again,  and  the  same  thing  happened  as  before.  Then  the  lad 
offered  her  some  meat,  but  she  refused  to  eat.  He  said,  "  It  is  a  long 
time  since  >ou  have  had  any  food.  You  must  eat,  or  you  will  die." 
Then  he  offered  her  some  marrow-bones,  which  she  took.  She  ate 
hastily,  and  swallowed  a  splinter  of  bone  with  the  marrow.  The  bone 
stuck  in  her  throat,  so  she  told  the  lad  to  run  for  water.^  He  took 
a  bucket  and  went  to  the  creek.  On  his  return,  he  fell  down  and 
spilled  the  water.  He  hastened  back  to  the  creek,  but,  when  returning 
with  the  water,  he  fell  down  and  spilled  it  again.  He  did  this  inten- 
tionally three  times.  The  fourth  time  he  saw  that  his  grandmother 
was  dying,  so  he  brought  the  water  to  her;  but  it  was  too  late,  for  she 
was  turning  into  a  blucjay.  He  offered  her  the  water;  but  she  said, 
"  Keep  it  for  yourself."  Immediately  afterward  she  flew  away  in  the 
form  of  a  i)Iuejay. 

When  the  lad  realized  that  he  was  alone,  he  wept.  At  last  he  fell 
asleep.  A  louse  bit  him,  and  he  awoke,  thinking  that  his  grandmother 
had  come  back.  When  he  saw  that  it  was  only  a  louse,  he  called  it 
names,  was  angry,  and  killed  it.  Then  a  flea  bit  him,  and  he  awoke. 
When  he  f(jun(l  (jut  what  it  was,  he  was  angry,  and  killed  the  flea. 

'  Compare  this  incident  with  Nootka  (Boas,  Sagen,  p.  109);  Boas.  Kalhlamct,  p.  146. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     325 

On  the  following  day  he  went  to  the  high  mountains  to  search  for 
his  grandmother.  He  said  to  a  short  tree,  "  Have  you  seen  my 
grandmother?  "  The  tree  did  not  answ'er,  so  he  killed  it.  Then  he 
went  down  to  the  creek,  and  asked  a  tall  tree  if  it  had  seen  his 
grandmother;  but  the  tall  tree  did  not  answer,  so  he  killed  it.  Then 
he  said  to  a  stone,  "  Have  you  seen  my  grandmother?  "  and,  receiving 
no  answer  from  the  stone,  he  killed  it  also. 

After  travelling  some  distance,  he  came  to  a  river  in  which  he  saw  a 
salmon  swimming.  He  said,  "  If  I  were  a  salmon,  I  would  jump  on  the 
ground,  instead  of  swimming  in  the  water."  The  salmon,  wishing  to 
show  that  it  could  do  this,  jumped  out  on  the  bank,  and  the  lad  caught 
it  and  killed  it.  He  put  it  on  a  stick,  and  set  it  before  the  fire  to 
roast;  but  before  it  was  cooked  he  fell  asleep. 

Some  boys  who  happened  to  be  near  saw  him.  They  took  the  fat 
salmon  and  smeared  his  mouth  with  it.*  They  ran  the  stick  into  his 
anus,  and  then  hid  close  by  to  see  the  fun.  When  he  awoke,  he  went 
to  ease  himself,  and,  finding  something  was  wrong,  he  felt,  and  pulled 
out  the  stick.  He  now  knew  that  the  boys  had  played  a  trick  on  him: 
so,  after  going  to  the  river  and  washing  his  mouth  and  backside,  he 
cut  some  switches,  ran  after  the  boys,  caught  them,  and  thrashed  them 
soundly, 

2 1 .     FAWN 

Some  people  lived  in  a  large  underground  house  near  Pole  Creek. 
One  of  them,  an  old  man,  partly  blind,  went  hunting  with  a  dog,  and 
drove  a  Fawn  into  the  creek.  Fawn  swam  down  the  river  to  a  place 
opposite  the  underground  house,  where  the  people  saw  and  captured 
him.  They  took  him  down  inside  the  house,  and  there  he  remained  as 
a  slave  for  many  months. 

One  night,  Fawn  made  up  his  mind  to  regain  his  liberty.  When  all 
the  people  were  asleep,  he  arose  and  tried  to  jump  up  through  the 
entrance  of  the  house;  but  his  head  struck  the  timbers,  and  he  fell 
down  again.  The  noise  awoke  the  old  man  who  owned  him,  and  he 
asked,  "  What  is  that?  "  Fawn  answered,  "  One  of  the  dogs  fell  down, 
and  I  am  trying  to  throw  him  out  again."  Some  time  afterwards, 
Fawn  tried  again,  but  with  like  result.  The  old  man  woke  up  again, 
and  said,  "  Let  the  dog  remain.  Co  to  sleep."  Now,  Fawn  pretended 
to  snore,  and  waited  until  the  old  man  fell  aslecj).  Again  he  arose 
to  try  to  jump  out  the  entrance,  and  this  time  succeeded. 

He  took  to  the  waters  of  Pole  Creek,  and  swam  along  until  he  reached 
its  junction  with  the  I IpjHT  Lillooet  River.  Swimming  down  the  latter 
river,  he  reached  the  upper  end  of  liig  Lillooet  Lake.  Here  he  jumjxKl 
on  a  shoal,  and  it  became  a  little  island.  Thence  he  jumjKxl  again  on 
to  a  sand-bank,  and  it  became  a  large  island.     Here  he  remained  hidden. 

'  Sonic  say  thry  alsm  ruhhod  ilir  fat  Kiliiion  all  ovrr  his  hiitt(Kka. 


326  Journal  of  Americaji  Folk-Lore 

Next  morning  the  people  found  his  tracks  in  the  snow,  but  lost  them 
where  he  had  taken  to  the  water.  They  followed  along  the  river- 
banks,  but  could  not  find  any  trace  of  his  having  left  the  water.  They 
came  back  and  told  the  old  man,  who  said,  "  Bring  me  some  deer's 
trotters  to  eat,  and  I  will  soon  locate  him."  The  people  brought  some, 
and  he  ate  them.  Now  he  knew  where  Fawn  was,  and  directed  the 
people  where  to  find  him.  They  took  canoes  and  went  to  the  island 
that  Fawn  had  created,  but  found  nothing  but  his  tracks.  Fawn  was 
aware  that  they  were  coming:  so  he  jumped  off,  and  swam  away  down 
the  lake,  and  the  people  never  saw  him  again. ' 

22.    THE   LAD    WHO    KILLED    HIS    COUSIN  ^ 

A  family  consisting  of  a  man  and  his  wife,  their  two  daughters,  and 
the  man's  nephew,  once  lived  near  Pemberton  Meadows,  where  there 
were  many  people.  The  eldest  girl  was  pubescent,  and  lived  apart 
in  her  own  lodge.  Her  mother  visited  her  every  morning  to  light 
her  fire  and  to  give  her  food. 

One  evening  the  nephew  went  to  visit  her,  to  see  how  she  was  getting 
along.  When  he  reached  her  lodge,  he  saw  a  young  man  with  her. 
He  at  once  turned  back,  feeling  very  angry  and  ashamed.  He  went 
three  successive  nights,  and  found  the  young  man  with  her  each  night. 
He  made  up  his  mind  to  shoot  his  cousin's  lover:  so  he  went  and  made 
a  bow  and  some  arrows,  which  he  tipped  with  goose-feathers.  A 
number  of  lads  were  with  him  when  he  made  the  weapons. 

Next  evening  he  repaired  to  the  girl's  lodge,  and,  finding  the  young 
man  with  her,  he  shot  at  him.  His  aim  was  not  true,  however;  and 
the  arrow  went  through  his  cousin's  body,  and  killed  her.  When  he 
saw  what  he  had  done,  he  broke  his  bow  in  pieces,  went  home,  and  lay 
down  without  speaking. 

On  the  following  morning  the  mother  said  to  her  younger  daughter, 
"  Take  some  fire  and  food  to  your  sister."  The  girl  went,  but  soon 
returned,  wearing  a  terrified  look,  and  saying  that  her  sister  was  dead, 
with  an  arrow  in  her  body.  The  mother  waked  her  husband  and  the 
nephew,  and  they  all  went  to  see.  The  latter  began  to  dance,  and 
behaved  in  a  warlike  manner,  saying  he  would  be  avenged  on  his 
cousin's  slayer. 

The  people  all  gathered  around,  and  began  to  cry.  The  father 
addressed  the  people,  saying  he  wished  to  know  who  had  killed  his 
daughter.  Some  of  the  young  men  said,  "  We  think  your  nephew 
killed  her,  for  we  recognize  the  arrow  in  her  body  as  belonging  to  him." 
Then  the  nephew  was  afraid,  and  moved  away  from  the  people.  As 
he  went,  he  sang,  "  If  I  only  knew  who  killed  my  sister!     If  I  only 

'  Some  Indians  think  that  this  is  only  a  fragmt-nt. 

•  See  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  679;  Tcit,  Mythology,  p.  361  (Nicola). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     327 

knew  who  killed  the  daughter  of  my  uncle!  "  He  went  to  a  small 
swampy  lake  in  Pemberton  Meadows,  made  a  canoe  of  horse-tail  grass, 
and  paddled  around  in  it,  singing  in  the  Thompson  language  "  I 
killed  the  daughter  of  my  uncle." 

The  people  said,  "  It  is  certainly  he  who  killed  the  girl."  So  they  all 
went  to  attack  him  with  spears.  When  he  saw  them  coming,  he  stood 
up  in  his  canoe,  and  danced,  singing  in  Thompson,  "  I  killed  my  sister. 
I  killed  the  daughter  of  my  uncle."  They  stabbed  him  through  and 
through  with  their  spears,  and  left  him  seemingly  dead,  with  his 
blood  and  brains  streaming  out. 

They  had  just  reached  home,  and  told  that  they  had  killed  him, 
when  they  heard  him  singing  loudly,  as  before.  They  returned,  and 
saw  him  dancing  in  the  canoe.  They  formed  a  circle  around  him,  and 
drew  in  upon  him.  They  said  to  one  another,  "  Be  sure  he  does  not 
escape!  "  He  paddled  towards  Coyote;  and  the  others  cried  out, 
"  Coyote,  be  sure  you  spear  him !  "  He  dived  out  of  the  canoe  towards 
Coyote,  who  struck  at  him,  and  cried  out,  "  I  have  him!  I  have 
speared  him!  Come  and  see!  "  When  Coyote  pulled  out  his  spear, 
there  was  nothing  but  a  lump  of  mud  on  the  end  of  it.  The  people 
were  angry  with  Coyote.  Just  then  the  young  man  appeared  some 
distance  away,  singing  in  Thompson,  as  before,  and  mocking  them. 
They  transformed  him  into  a  muskrat,  and  ordained  that  he  should 
always  inhabit  swamps. 

22,-    nkimtcamu'l^ 

An  orphan  boy  lived  with  some  people  who  took  little  or  no  care 
of  him,  ami  treated  him  very  meanly.  They  gave  liim  nothing  to  eat: 
so  he  had  to  subsist  on  the  bones  and  refuse  which  they  threw  away. 
Neither  did  they  pnnide  him  with  clothes  or  blankets:  so  he  slept 
naked  beside  the  fire  at  night.  Not  content  with  starving  him,  they 
also  beat  him,  and  called  him  many  hard  names.  Kven  the  ni-ighbors 
treated  him  badly,  and  despised  him  because  he  was  naked,  dirty, 
and  ugly.  They  nicknamed  him  "  Big-Belly  "  because  of  his  distended 
alxlomen. 

When  the  boy  grew  older,  he  dettTinined  to  become  a  great  man, 
and  make  the  peoj)le  ashamed  of  tluir  treatnuiii,  and  eiuious  of  his 
success.  He  continued  living  with  tin-  same  peopK',  but  ii^ed  to  go 
away  at  night  io  the  mountains,  where  he  passed  tin-  time  in  training 
himself.  Kvery  morning  he  was  home  before  the  people  awoke:  con- 
sefjuently  they  always  found  him  sK-eping  beside  the  tire,  as  usual. 
For  years  he  continued  this  practice,  unknown  to  the  j)eople,  and  had 
become  a  wise  and  athletic  young  man.     He  >pcnt  many  of  his  nights 

>  Sec  Toil.  Traditions,  p.  _^^  (TlmmpHon);  Trit.  A/y//i<>/<'Kv.  p.  joo  (Nicoln);  Doan, 
Sogen,  p.  9  (Shu.Twap);  Tcit.  The  Shuxwap,  p.  684;  Ilill-Tmit.  Rrfxtrl  iSoo.  p.  SM.  The 
name  seems  to  mean  "  he  wtid  rats  scraps  of  (oo<l." 


328  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

now  in  hunting,  and  succeeded  in  killing  great  numbers  of  marmots, 
deer,  and  other  animals,  the  skins  of  which  he  made  into  robes,  and 
which  he  hid  away. 

Now,  there  was  a  young  girl  who  was  still  a  virgin,  who  lived  in 
another  village,  and  who  had  refused  all  offers  of  marriage  made  by 
the  young  men  of  the  country,  because  she  considered  them  her 
inferiors.  Nkimtcamu'l,  for  that  was  the  name  by  which  the  orphan 
boy  was  generally  known,  resolved  to  marry  this  girl:  so  he  went  to 
her  village  one  night,  and,  knowing  the  underground  lodge  in  which 
she  lived,  he  tore  a  hole  in  the  roof,  just  above  where  she  slept,  and 
spat  down  on  her  navel.  She  became  pregnant,  and  in  due  time  gave 
birth  to  a  son;  but  neither  she  nor  any  of  the  people  knew  who  was 
the  father  of  the  child. 

When  the  boy  was  a  few  years  old,  the  girl's  father  called  all  the 
men  of  the  country  together,  and  told  them  he  wished  to  find  out 
who  was  the  father  of  his  grandson.  He  asked  each  one  to  make  a 
bow  and  arrow,  and  give  them  to  the  boy.  The  men  did  as  they  were 
requested ;  but  the  boy  disdained  each  of  their  weapons,  and  threw  them 
away.  The  grandfather  asked  if  every  man  had  given  his  bow  and 
arrow;  and  they  answered,  "  Yes,  every  one  except  Big-Belly,  who 
cannot  possibly  be  the  father  of  the  child."  The  old  man  insisted 
that  Nkimtcamu'l  should  also  present  a  bow  and  arrow:  so  he  made 
very  rough  ones  out  of  fir-branches,  and  handed  them  to  the  boy, 
who  at  once  was  delighted,  and  cried  out,  "  Father!  " 

The  people  were  all  disgusted  when  they  knew  that  the  naked, 
despised  Nkimtcamu'l  was  the  father  of  the  boy.  The  old  man  gave 
his  daughter  to  Nkimtcamu'l;  and  all  the  people  made  fun  of  the  girl, 
and  laughed  at  her  because  of  her  husband.  Now,  Nkimtcamu'l  made 
a  house  for  his  wife  and  child,  and,  going  to  his  caches  in  the  mountains, 
brought  home  many  fine  skins,  and  presented  his  wife  with  several 
of  the  best  marmot  robes.  Thenceforth  he  clad  himself  in  the  finest 
skins,  and  no  longer  went  naked.  He  soon  showed  the  people  that  he 
was  a  better  hunter  than  any  of  them,  and  his  family  was  always  the 
best  provided  for  of  any  in  the  village.  He  became  rich,  and  had 
many  children,  and  the  people  envied  his  success  and  wealth. 

24.    THE    MAN    WHO    GOT    FOUR    WIVES 

Four  brothers  lived  in  the  same  house  with  their  four  sisters.  They 
were  all  anxious  to  marry;  but  they  knew  of  no  people  in  their  country 
except  themselves.  In  the  neighboring  country  there  dwelt  a  man 
who  trained  in  the  mountains  and  became  like  a  shaman.  Through 
his  magic  he  learned  of  these  people,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  relieve 
them.  He  put  on  a  deer's  skin,  and  in  the  form  of  a  buck-deer  passed 
by  the  brothers'  house.     Next  morning  they  noticed  the  fresh  deer- 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     329 

tracks,  and  followed  them  up.  After  following  ihem  a  long  distance, 
they  got  tired,  and  three  of  the  brothers  gave  up  and  returned;  but 
the  eldest  persevered,  and  overtook  the  deer. 

When  the  shaman  saw  that  he  was  nearly  caught,  he  made  a  house 
near  a  creek,  and  a  sweat-house  close  by.  Then,  changing  himself  to 
his  natural  form,  he  began  sweat-bathing.  The  brother  came  to  the 
creek,  and  searched  for  the  buck's  tracks,  which  had  come  to  an  end 
there.*  At  last,  unsuccessful  and  tired,  he  decided  to  return  home. 
Just  then  he  noticed  the  sweat-house,  and,  approaching  it,  found  a  man 
inside.  He  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  a  buck  go  past;  but  the  man 
answered,  "  No.  Go  to  my  house  over  yonder,"  said  he,  "  and  I 
will  come  to  you  when  I  finish  sweating."  The  hunter  went  to  the 
house,  and  the  man,  arriving  presently,  treated  him  very  kindly. 

On  his  return  home,  the  brother  related  that  he  had  seen  a  man 
living  near  a  creek;  and,  as  he  was  a  good  man,  the  brothers  sent  one 
of  their  sisters  to  him  to  be  his  wife.  Some  time  afterwards  the  man 
changed  himself  to  a  deer  again,  and  did  as  he  had  done  before. 
Another  of  the  brothers  found  him,  and,  thinking  it  was  a  difTerent 
man  in  a  difTerent  place,  as  soon  as  he  returned  home,  sent  one  of  his 
sisters  to  marr>'  him.  Thus  the  man  acted  four  times,  until  he  had 
got  the  four  sisters  for  his  wives. 

Now  the  man  said,  "  I  have  taken  all  the  brothers'  sisters.  I  will 
try  to  get  wives  for  them."  He  changed  himself  into  an  eagle,  and 
flew  away  to  a  neighboring  country.  Here  he  saw  four  girls  picking 
berries.  Three  of  them  were  singing,  and  one  was  quiet.  He  took  off 
his  eagle's  body,  and  approaching  the  quiet  one,  who  was  alone,  asked 
her  if  she  would  come  with  him.  She  consented,  and  iiinii)ed  on  his 
back;  he  flew  away  with  her,  and  gave  her  to  his  eldest  hroilier-in-law. 
Then  he  returned  as  a  difTerent  man,  flew  away  with  another  one  of 
the  sisters,  and  gave  her  to  the  second  one  of  his  brothers-in-law. 
Thus  he  continued  until  he  had  obtained  wives  for  the  four  brothers, 
when  he  left,  and  went  to  a  distant  country  with  his  own  wives. - 

25.     TIIK    GMOST-MOTHHR 

A  man's  wife  died,  leaving  him  with  a  young  child,  which  \\c  used 
to  i)ut  to  sleep  at  night  in  a  basket-cradle  suspended  from  a  l)ough. 
The  baby  cried  all  day,  but  was  always  (|uiet  at  night.  .As  soon  as  it 
got  dark,  the  child's  crying  would  suddenly  cimsc.  and  the  people  would 
hear  a  noise  as  if  the  inf.int  were  sutkiiig.  I  In-  mother's  ghost  staid 
with  it  all  night,  and  sucklctl  it. 

'  Some  say  llic  dcor-tracks  led  up  to  the  swrat-liouso,  and  that  llie  liuiUcr  followed  them 
there,  but  could  not  find  them  beyond. 

*  Sioxnc  iwiy  tlie  man  chanKcd  himnolf  into  an  eaKlc  throuKhout.  and  obtained  husbands 
for  tlic  four  .KisterH  in  the  Hanx;  tnaiincr  an  he  obtained  wives  for  the  brothers.  After 
getting  tlie  eight  of  Ihcin  niurticcj  and  happy,  he  left,  and  was  wen  no  more. 


330  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Now,  the  man  was  rich;  and  he  wished,  if  possible,  to  capture  his 
wife's  ghost,  and  try  to  make  her  become  a  human  being  again.  He 
sent  to  all  the  neighboring  countries  for  shamans  to  come  and  try 
their  skill.  He  ofTered  to  pay  them  well :  so  the  best  ones  came  from 
each  country.  Several  came  from  down  the  river  and  from  the  sea, 
and  one  each  from  the  Upper  Lillooet,  the  Shuswap,  and  the  Thompson 
Indians.  When  they  had  all  arrived,  they  held  a  consultation,  and 
agreed  to  work  together.  Some  fixed  the  air  above  the  child;  others, 
the  air  on  all  sides  around  it;  others  made  a  fire  underneath,  all  ready 
to  light;  and  the  Thompson  shaman  had  a  basket  full  of  urine  and 
medicine  of  herbs,  ready  to  throw  on  the  ghost.  Then  they  all  sat 
around,  ready  and  waiting. 

Just  at  dark  the  ghost  entered  the  space  occupied  by  the  child. 
She  did  so  from  below,  as  that  w^as  the  only  way  she  could  get  in. 
Immediately  the  shamans  lighted  the  fire,  and  took  away  the  baby. 
Then  the  medicine  was  thrown  on  the  ghost,  and,  her  escape  being 
cut  off  on  all  sides,  she  was  a  prisoner.  The  shamans  treated  her  and 
sprinkled  medicine  on  her  all  night,  and  by  morning  she  was  so  changed 
that  she  had  partly  left  the  ghost  state,  and  had  begun  to  resemble  a 
living  woman. 

Thus  they  treated  her  for  several  months,  when  she  was  so  far 
advanced  that  she  was  able  to  lie  down  in  her  bed  and  suckle  her  child. 
Some  of  the  shamans  now  left,  w'hile  a  few  still  remained,  and  con- 
tinued their  efforts.  After  many  more  months  of  treatment,  the 
woman  became  human  enough  to  be  able  to  do  a  little  of  the  house- 
work, and  to  sleep  with  her  husband.  Then  the  last  shamans  left. 
When  departing,  they  warned  the  man  to  take  very  great  care  of  his 
wife,  and  to  give  her  tasks  by  degrees,  as  it  would  take  a  very  long 
time  yet  for  her  to  become  just  as  she  had  been  before  her  death.  If 
she  were  excited  or  startled  in  any  way,  she  would  at  once  change  back 
to  the  spirit  state. 

Several  years  elapsed,  and  the  woman  had  slowly  improved  during 
the  interval,  so  that  she  was  now  able  to  do  most  of  the  work  she  used 
to  do,  much  to  the  joy  of  her  husband.  One  day  the  latter  thought  he 
would  give  her  a  new  task  to  perform:  so  he  asked  her  to  go  to  the 
cellar  for  some  roots.  At  first  she  refused  to  go,  saying  she  might  meet 
with  some  accident;  but  at  last  she  consented,  and  went.  She  carried 
two  baskets,  —  one  woven  for  the  roots,  and  one  of  birch-bark  to  fetch 
water  in  on  her  way  back.  She  left  the  bark  basket  at  the  entrance 
when  she  descended  into  the  cellar,  and  began  to  fill  the  other  one 
with  roots.  When  the  birch-bark  basket  was  about  half  full,  it  fell 
down  and  almost  hit  her,  and  startled  her.  At  once  she  reverted  to  the 
spirit  state,  and  was  a  ghost  as  before. 

The  husband  found  out  what  had  happened,  and  was  very  sorry. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     331 

Her  ghost  never  visited  him  or  the  people  again.     The  child,  however, 
was  now  old  enough  to  do  without  her  care,  and  grew  up  to  be  a  man. 

26.     STORY    OF   THE    SISTERS 

A  number  of  women  went  to  gather  roots  at  a  place  four  days' 
journey  from  their  home.  Among  them  were  two  young  women  who 
were  sisters.  The  first  two  days,  as  was  the  custom,  they  just  gathered 
what  amount  of  roots  they  could  eat  each  night.'  On  the  third  and 
following  days  they  intended  to  dig  as  many  roots  as  they  could. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  the  sisters  went  to  bathe  them- 
selves; and  the  elder  one  noticed,  in  the  reflection  of  a  tree  in  the 
water,  what  appeared  to  be  the  form  of  a  man.  The  tree  was  a  large 
one  growing  near  the  water's  edge;  and  the  woman  was  afraid  to  look 
up  at  it,  lest  the  man  might  think  she  had  noticed  him,  and  would  kill 
them.  That  evening  in  camp  she  said  to  her  younger  sister,  "  Come 
here  and  let  me  louse  your  head!"  The  younger  sister  went  and 
laid  her  head  on  the  older  one's  lap.  The  elder  sister  then  whispered 
into  her  ear,  "  There  are  enemies  near.  I  saw  the  reflection  of  their 
scout  sitting  on  a  tree  when  we  were  bathing."  The  younger  sister 
began  to  cry,  and  the  other  women  asked  what  was  wrong  with  her. 
The  elder  answered,  "  I  just  happened  to  pull  her  hair  too  much,  and 
it  hurt  her."  She  then  whispered  to  her  sister,  "  Don't  be  afraid! 
I  will  hide  you."  She  made  a  small  hollow  in  the  ground  a  little 
deeper  by  digging  it,  and  made  her  younger  sister  lie  down  in  it. 
She  covered  her  over,  and,  putting  her  pillow  on  the  top,  she  herself 
lay  down  over  the  place  where  her  sister  was  hidden. 

That  night  all  the  women  were  killed  by  a  war-party  of  strangers, 
the  elder  sister's  skull  being  split  in  two.*  When  the  enemy  had  gone, 
the  younger  sister  arose  and  started  for  home.  That  night  she  climbed 
a  tree  and  slept  in  the  branches.  About  dusk  the  ghost  of  her  elder 
sister  appeared  at  the  bottom  of  the  tree,  with  her  split  head  flopping 
about  on  her  shoulders.  She  could  not  see  straight,  everything 
appearing  to  be  upside  down.'  So  she  said  to  her  sister,  "  What  shall 
I  do  to  get  up  there?  I  wish  to  be  with  you."  The  younger  sister 
answered,  "  Where  I  am  is  below.  If  you  wish  to  reach  me,  >ou  will 
have  to  put  your  feet  up,  and  climb  head  down."  The  ghost  did  this, 
and  tried  all  night  in  vain  to  ascend  the  tree.  At  dajhreak  the  ghost 
left. 

Next  night  the  girl  again  slept  in  a  tree,  and  was  visited  by  her 
sister's  ghost,  who  asked  her  the  same  (question,  and  was  answered 
in  the  same  way.     Thus  the  ghost  fcjllowcd  lur  until  she  reached  home, 

•   This  in  :in  <)l)s«Tv:inrc  antoriK  tlio  Lillooet. 

'  Some  say  it  was  Rplit  i)fri>on«licularly.  t)tlicr»  s;iy  horizontally. 

»  As  it  flopiK'd  alM>ut,  the  Rhost  could  not  tell  wlu-thor  tin-  Kfouixl.  or  anything  she 
saw,  was  up  or  clown.     Sonictimcs  it  appeared  one  way,  suuictimcii  the  other. 


332  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

where  she  told  the  people  her  story,  and  then  dropped  down  dead. 
The  people  blamed  the  elder  sister  for  not  having  told  all  the  women 
about  seeing  the  man  in  the  tree,  and  thus  given  them  all  a  chance  to 
escape. 

27.    THE   MEDICINE-MAN  AND   HIS   SWEETHEART^ 

A  young  man  in  the  Lillooet  country  had  a  sweetheart  who  died. 
He  was  very  fond  of  the  girl,  and  her  death  was  a  great  blow  to  him. 
He  went  into  the  mountains  and  lived  by  himself.  After  spending 
four  years  there  training,  he  returned  home  one  night,  and,  going  to 
the  place  where  the  girl  was  buried,  he  dug  her  up  and  took  out  her 
remains.  After  cutting  the  strings,  he  took  off  the  mat  in  which  she 
was  wrapped,  and  began  to  treat  her.  Before  long  she  showed  signs 
of  life,  but  was  not  able  to  move.  He  took  fir-branches  and  struck 
her  four  times  with  them.  She  was  able  to  get  up,  so  he  told  her  to 
go  and  wash  in  the  river  four  times.  When  she  had  done  this,  she 
was  quite  well  again,  and  went  with  the  man  to  his  parents'  house. 

On  the  following  morning  a  brother  of  the  girl  came  into  the  house  to 
obtain  a  light  to  make  fire.  Seeing  his  dead  sister  sitting  with  the  man 
who  had  been  away  so  long,  he  ran  back  in  astonishment,  and  informed 
his  mother,  who  at  once  went  to  see  for  herself.  She  came  back  crying, 
and  informed  her  husband  that  their  daughter  was  really  there.  The 
father  then  went  to  see,  and  found  his  wife's  story  to  be  true.  The 
people  all  flocked  to  the  house  to  see  the  wonderful  couple;  and  the 
man  became  known  as  a  great  shaman. 

One  day  a  lad's  sweetheart  died,  and  he  thought  he  would  like  to 
raise  her  from  the  dead,  as  the  shaman  had  done:  so  he  went  to  him 
and  asked  him  what  to  do.  The  shaman  said,  "If  you  train  four  days 
and  nights,  you  will  be  able  to  bring  your  sweetheart  back  to  life 
again."  The  lad  did  this,  and  then  went  and  dug  up  the  body  of  the 
girl.  He  carried  her  home,  expecting  she  would  come  to  life  some 
time  before  morning.  He  covered  her  over  with  a  blanket,  and  lay 
down  beside  her.  The  blanket  was  too  short  to  cover  her  all,  so  her 
feet  were  exposed. 

About  daybreak  the  lad  began  to  laugh  to  himself;  and  an  old 
woman  who  had  got  up  to  light  the  fire,  hearing  him,  looked  in  that 
direction.  Seeing  the  bare  feet  sticking  out  from  below  the  blanket, 
she  wondered  who  it  could  be.  She  noticed  that  the  feet  were  swollen 
and  discolored,  so  she  wondered  all  the  more.  Taking  an  awl,  she 
stuck  it  into  the  sole  of  one  foot,  but  there  was  no  movement.  She 
now  took  off  the  blanket,  and  was  astonished  to  see  before  her  the  body 
of  the  girl  who  had  recently  died.  She  now  guessed  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  was  very  angry  with  the  boy,  calling  him  a  crazy  fellow. 

'  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  68;  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxiv,  p.  336. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     333 

They  sent  for  the  girl's  parents,  who  came  and  took. the  body  away, 
and  reburied  it. 

28.    TCiMTCIMrKlN  1 

Tcimtciml'kin  was  the  name  of  a  very  tall  man  who  had  the  power 
of  changing  himself  at  will  into  the  form  of  a  black  bear.  Once  a 
Cannibal  stole  his  wife,  so  he  devised  a  plan  to  get  her  back  again. 
He  transformed  himself  into  a  black  bear,  and  hid  in  a  large  hollow 
tree.  A  hunter  came  along,  and,  when  he  noticed  a  hole  in  the  tree- 
trunk,  said  to  himself,  "  A  bear  must  live  here."  He  took  a  long  stick, 
poked  it  down  the  hole,  and  believed  that  he  felt  a  bear  sleeping  there. 

Next  morning  he  returned  to  the  place,  accompanied  by  a  boy, 
whom  he  left  at  the  upper  hole  to  watch,  while  he  himself  crawled  in 
through  the  lower  hole  to  kill  the  bear.  He  did  not  find  the  animal 
where  he  thought  to  find  it,  followed  along  through  the  log  in  search, 
and  either  was  lost  or  killed,  for  he  never  came  out  again.  The  boy 
waited  patiently  for  a  long  time.  Finally,  when  the  man  did  not 
appear,  he  began  to  cry. 

Then  Tcimtciml'kin  transformed  himself  back  again  into  a  man, 
came  out  of  the  log,  and  approached  the  boy,  saying,  "  Do  not  cry 
or  be  afraid!  I  will  take  care  of  you."  He  took  the  boy  on  his 
shoulders,  and  said,  "  We  will  travel  a  long  distance.  Thus  he  carried 
the  lad  at  a  rapid  pace  all  day,  without  stopping.  Once  the  boy  said, 
"  I  wish  to  urinate;"  and  Tcimtciml'kin  answered,  "  Urinate  on  my 
shoulders:"  so  the  boy  did  so.  Some  time  afterwards  the  boy  said 
he  wished  to  defecate,  and  the  man  told  him  to  do  it  on  his  shoulders; 
so  the  boy  did  as  directed. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  lake,  where  they  stopped  to  camp.  Tcim- 
tciml'kin  felt  very  hungry,  and,  as  there  were  many  beavers  in  the  lake, 
he  decided  to  get  them  to  eat.  He  instructed  the  boy  to  kill  the 
beavers  as  soon  as  the  lake  was  dry;  then  he  stepped  into  the  water, 
began  to  drink,  and  never  stopped  until  the  lake  was  dry.  The  boy 
killed  many  beavers,  and  Tcimtciml'kin  ate  them  all  that  night;  but 
the  beaver-tails  he  threw  away,  as  he  thought  they  were  unfit  for  food. 
At  last,  being  gorged  with  food,  and  tired,  he  fell  fast  asleep.  Then 
the  boy  collected  all  the  tails,  and  ate  them.  When  Tcimtciml'kin 
awoke,  he  saw  the  boy  roasting  beaver-tails  at  the  fire,  and  eating  them. 
He  remonstrated  with  the  boy;  but  the  latter  maintained  they  were 
the  best  part  of  the  beaver,  and  invited  him  to  try  them.  This  he  did, 
and  found  them  to  be  excellent  eating. 

Now  Tcimtciml'kin  said  to  the  lad,  "  I  wish  you  to  train,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  help  me."     So  the  boy  trained  himself  under  the  tutor- 

'  Compare  Tcit.  Traditions,  p.  80;  Tcit.  Mythology,  p.  254  (UtS'mqt);  also  Tcit,  The 
Shuswap,  p.  713.     The  name  means  "burnt  back." 


334  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

ship  of  Tcimtcimrkin.  They  repaired  successively  to  three  other 
small  lakes,  whose  waters  they  drank  dry,  and  where  they  killed  and 
ate  many  beavers.  When  they  were  at  the  fourth  lake,  the  boy  was 
able  to  drink  it  dry  himself,  thus  showing  that  he  had  attained  the 
same  powers  as  his  teacher;  but  he  continued  training  until  he  was 
able  to  jump  across  a  river  at  one  bound.  Tcimtciml'kin  lay  down 
on  his  back,  and  asked  the  boy  to  jump  across  the  river.  When  he  had 
done  this,  he  asked  him  to  jump  back  again.  This  he  did,  alighting 
on  Tcimtcimi'kin's  breast.  After  the  boy  had  jumped  across  four 
times,  Tcimtciml'kin  was  satisfied  that  he  was  proficient. 

He  related  to  him  the  story  of  his  wife,  who  had  been  stolen  by  a 
Cannibal,  and  suggested  that  they  should  go  and  fight  him.  The 
Cannibal  lived  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  large  river,  where  he  spent 
most  of  his  time  fishing  for  people  with  a  dip-net.  This  net  was  en- 
dowed with  magic,  and  was  ornamented  along  the  hoop  and  handle 
with  strings  of  human  teeth,  and  finger  and  toe  nails,  which  the 
Cannibal  had  obtained  from  the  bodies  of  his  victims.  Tcimtciml'kin 
sent  the  boy  across  to  torment  him  and  to  call  him  names.  The 
Cannibal  did  not  take  any  notice  until  the  lad  made  fun  of  his  brow. 
Then  he  became  angry,  and  chased  him.  The  boy  jumped  across  the 
river,  and  the  Cannibal  after  him.  Now  Tcimtciml'kin  came  to  help 
the  boy,  and  they  fought  the  Cannibal,  and  killed  him  eventually  by 
dismembering  him.  The  boy  then  went  across  the  river,  and  brought 
over  Tcimtcimi'kin's  wife,  who  made  the  lad  sweat-bathe  four  times 
before  he  left  them. 

After  hunting  for  some  time,  the  boy  departed  for  home,  taking  with 
him  four  bladders  which  Tcimtciml'kin  had  given  him  for  protection. 
These  he  could  make  appear  as  dogs.  He  had  to  camp  five  nights 
before  reaching  home.  On  each  of  the  first  four  nights  he  camped  near 
a  clifT,  as  Tcimtciml'kin  had  directed  him,  and  was  visited  by  strange 
men  who  wished  to  kill  him;  but  he  made  the  bladders  advance,  and 
growl  like  dogs;  and  the  strangers,  in  running  away,  fell  over  the 
clifif  in  their  fright.  On  the  fifth  night  he  did  not  camp  near  any  preci- 
pice, so  the  bladders  would  not  act.  That  night  he  was  attacked  by  a 
Cannibal,  who  ate  him. 

29.    THE   LOON   AND   THE   WOMAN » 

A  young  man  lived  with  his  wife  and  mother-in-law.  They  dwelt 
near  the  small  lakes  called  Kokwo'linaz  and  Welle.'^     The  wife  gathered 

>  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  83;  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  725.  This  is  a  widely  distributed 
tale  (see,  for  instance,  Boas,  Sagen,  p.  247;  Petitot,  Traditions  des  Indiens  du  Canada 
nord-ouest,  p.  407;  W.  Bogoras,  Chukchee  Mythology,  Publications  of  the  Jesup  North 
Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  viii,  p.  26). 

'  These  lakes  are  situated  on  the  Upper  Lillooet  River,  above  Pemberton  Meadows. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     335 

skemtc-root  {Erythronium  grandifioriim)  every  day  near  the  lakes. 
She  was  fascinated  by  them,  and  began  to  have  amorous  desires. 

One  day  she  went  down  to  a  low  rock  which  extended  out  into  the 
lake,  and,  lying  down  flat  on  her  back,  she  cried  out,  "Callk!"^ 
repeatedly,  and  asked  any  one  from  the  lake  to  come  and  to  be  her 
paramour.  Soon  Loon  gave  his  weird  cry,  and  approached  the  rock. 
Going  ashore,  he  stood  over  the  woman,  and  struck  her  repeatedly  with 
his  bill  on  the  navel.  When  he  left,  the  woman  gathered  roots;  but 
she  did  not  dig  many. 

At  night  her  husband  said,  "  Why  have  you  gathered  so  few  skemtc- 
roots?  What  have  you  been  doing  all  day?  "  She  replied,  "  The 
plants  were  scarce,  and  I  had  to  wander  around  a  great  deal  to  get 
even  a  few." 

The  next  two  days  the  woman  did  the  same  thing.  Her  husband 
was  now  suspicious,  and  the  next  day  he  watched  her.  She  felt 
sore  where  Loon  had  picked  her;  yet  she  went  to  the  rock  as  usual,  and 
called  Loon,  who  came  ashore,  and  did  as  before. 

When  Loon  had  disappeared,  the  husband  went  to  his  wife,  and, 
after  accusing  her,  he  killed  her,  taking  off  her  clothes,^  and  burying 
her  body.  Then  he  dressed  himself  in  her  clothes,  fixed  his  hair  as 
her  hair  had  been,  and,  going  to  the  rock,  lay  down  and  called,  "  Callk!  " 
Soon  Loon  came,  and,  thinking  it  was  the  woman,  he  began  to  strike 
the  man's  navel  with  his  bill.  When  he  did  this,  the  man  stabbed  him 
with  his  knife  and  killed  him.  He  took  the  body,  and  buried  it  beside 
that  of  the  woman. 

When  he  reached  home,  his  mother-in-law  asked  him  where  his 
wife  was,  and  he  answered  her,  saying,  "  I  buried  her  with  her  para- 
mour." 

30.     TIIK    FAITHLESS    WIFE' 

Man\-  people  lived  together  in  one  underground  house.  Among 
tluni  was  a  young  man  who  was  training.  When  the  men  of  the 
house  went  hunting,  he  would  never  go  with  them,  but  always  went 
out  to  train.  When  they  had  been  away  some  time,  he  would  always 
return  and  meet  one  of  the  men's  wives  some  distance  from  the  house. 
This  woman  would  not  go  with  the  other  women  when  they  did  work, 
but  would  complain  of  feeling  ill,  and  would  wander  off  to  meet  the 
young  man.  She  would  eat  very  little  wlu-n  other  people  were  near, 
but  when  alone  would  eat  heartily. 

One  day  the  men  went  out  lumting,  and  killed  so  inaiudeer,  that  they 
had  lo  c.imp  over  ni^lil.      Tlie  htisli.md  ot  the  woman  was  suspicious 

'  Said  to  mean  "sloiic." 

'  Some  say  he  put  liis  own  clothes  on  liis  wife's  body. 

»  Sec  Boas,  SaRtn,  pp.  162  (KwakiutI).  aj.^  (Ileiltsuk),  257  (Bella  Coola),  281  (Tsim- 
shian);  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  724. 
VOL.  xxv.  — NO.  98. — 22 


336  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

of  his  wife:  therefore  he  left  that  night,  when  the  other  hunters  had 
fallen  asleep,  and  went  home  to  see  his  wife.  He  dressed  himself  as 
she  did,  in  a  marmot-skin  blanket  with  a  belt  around  the  waist. 
When  he  reached  the  house,  he  descended  the  ladder  quietly,  and 
crawled  up  to  near  her  bed.  Then  he  heard  the  young  man  talking 
to  his  wife,  crawled  up  to  them,  took  out  his  knife  and  cut  off  the  lad's 
offending  parts.  The  lad  did  not  utter  a  sound,  but  jumped  up  and 
ran  outside,  leaving  many  blood-stains  on  the  ladder.  The  husband 
followed,  carr>-ing  the  parts  which  he  had  cut  off,  and  which  he  hid 
in  a  tree. 

On  the  following  morning,  when  the  people  awoke,  they  found  that 
the  ladder  was  blood-stained,  and  wondered  what  had  happened. 
The  people  said,  "  Every  one  is  here  except  the  hunters  and  the  lad 
who  is  training.  Perhaps  it  is  he."  But  the  lad's  father  said,  "  It 
cannot  be  he,  for  he  is  out  training  in  the  woods  and  mountains."  The 
people  followed  the  blood-marks,  and  eventually  came  to  the  body  of 
the  lad,  who  had  bled  to  death. ^ 

That  day  the  w^oman  pretended  to  be  very  ill,  and  sat  down  alone 
just  outside  the  underground  house.  About  noon  a  man  -  came  along, 
having  a  dog  with  him,  and,  seeing  the  woman  there,  asked  her  if  she 
were  ill.  Receiving  an  answer  in  the  affirmative,  he  said  he  could 
cure  her  if  she  would  eat  his  medicine.  She  said  she  would.  So  he  told 
her  that  the  medicine  he  would  give  her  was  some  very  good  venison, 
but  she  would  have  to  eat  it  a  very  small  piece  at  a  time.  The  woman 
gave  him  a  basket,  and  he  went  some  little  distance  away,  and  boiled 
the  venison  along  w'ith  the  privates  of  the  young  man.  When  it  was 
cooked,  he  cut  the  whole  into  very  small  pieces,  and  gave  it  to  the 
woman  to  eat.  When  she  had  tasted  it,  he  asked  her  if  it  was  good, 
and  she  said  it  was  very  nice.  She  ate  it  all,  and  died  shortly  after- 
wards.    By  that  time  the  man  and  dog  had  disappeared. 

31.     THE    SQUINT-EYED    WOMAN;    OR,    THE    MAN    WHO   OBTAINED    A 

NEW   HEAD^ 

A  w^oman  lived  in  a  certain  place  with  her  son.  She  was  squint- 
eyed,  and  had  a  wicked  temper,  so  that  no  one  would  marry  her.  At 
last,  however,  she  obtained  a  good-looking  man;  but  every  night  she 
tore  his  face  wuth  her  nails,  so  that  he  bled  profusely.     After  some  time 

*  Some  say  the  lad  did  not  die,  but  went  to  where  the  hunters  had  slaughtered  the 
deer,  and,  seeing  a  big  buck  lying  there,  cut  off  its  privates,  and  put  them  on  himself. 
He  returned  to  the  house  in  a  few  days,  and  the  husband  was  going  to  kill  him;  but  his 
parents  made  peace  between  them  by  giving  their  daughter  to  the  indignant  husband. 

'  This  was  the  woman's  husband  in  disguise.  Some  say  that  only  a  dog  appeared  to 
the  woman,  and  offered  her  the  medicine,  the  dog  being  the  husband  metamorphosed. 

•  See  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxvii,  p.  346  (region  of  North  Victoria);  Ibid.,  xxxiv, 
P-  354- 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     337 

of  this  treatment,  he  became  so  disfigured  that  he  could  hardly  be 
recognized.  He  left '  his  wife,  and  went  to  a  wise  old  woman  to  see 
if  she  could  not  tell  him  of  some  way  to  get  back  his  good  looks. 

He  reached  the  house  of  the  woman,  who  li\cd  near  a  trail;  and  she 
advised  him  to  go  to  the  house  of  the  man  who  kept  heads,  and  get  a 
new  one.  "  He  will  first  show  you  all  the  worst  heads,  which  hang  on 
the  walls,"  she  said;  "  and  then  he  will  show  you  better  ones,  which 
he  keeps  in  boxes:  but  refuse  them  all  except  one,  which  is  kept  covered 
in  a  small  box  by  itself.  It  hangs  in  a  corner.  Ask  for  it,  as  it  is  the 
best  and  most  beautiful  one  in  the  place." 

Reaching  the  old  man's  house,  he  was  invited  in,  and  asked  if  he 
wanted  an\thing.  He  said,  "  I  wish  to  get  a  new  head."  The  old 
man  showed  him  all  the  heads,  one  after  another;  but  he  refused  them 
all.  At  last  he  took  the  one  out  of  the  small  covered  box;  and  this  the 
man  accepted.  He  cut  off  his  own  head,  and  put  the  new  one  on  in 
its  place.  As  he  went  out  and  passed  by  the  heads  on  the  walls,  the 
women's  heads  began  to  sing,  and  cried  out,  asking  him  to  be  their 
husband;  but  he  passed  by  without  heeding  them. 

On  his  way  back  he  visited  the  house  of  Black-Bear-Woman  and 
Crane-Woman,'^  who  lived  together.  He  married  them  and  staid  there, 
each  of  them  bearing  him  a  child. 

When  the  children  had  attained  some  size,  they  cried  continually 
to  see  their  grandfather:  so  their  father  hunted,  and  killed  much  large 
game.  He  put  all  the  meat  and  fat  in  one  glove,  and  the  skins  in 
another,  took  his  wives  and  children,  and  journeyed  to  his  parents* 
house.  Here  he  called  all  the  people  together,  and  gave  them  a  great 
feast  and  many  presents  of  skins. 

Among  the  people  who  attended  the  feast  was  his  former  wife  with 
her  son.  The  latter  laughed  at  his  father  because  of  his  now  wives; 
but  the  mother  wished  the  man  to  take  her  back  again  as  his  wife. 
"  Oh,  no!  "  he  said,  "  I  have  got  a  new  head  now,  and  I  do  not  wish  it 
spoiled."  The  woman  became  angry,  and  said,  "  I  will  get  a  new  head 
too;  and  when  he  sees  my  beauty,  he  will  admire  me,  and  ask  me  to 
become  his  wife  again."  Taking  her  son  with  her,  she  went  to  the 
house  of  the  man  who  kept  heads;  but,  as  she  could  not  see  straight, 
she  chose  a  very  ugly  head  with  one  e\e  looking  to  each  side.  Thinking 
herself  to  be  now  pretty,  she  returned  home;  but  she  was  .so  ugl>',  that 
the  people  were  all  afraid  of  her,  and  the  children  ran  away  intcrror: 
so  the  people  took  her  and  her  boy  and  threw  them  into  the  water, 
saying  that  henceforth  they  should  be  water  mysteries  or  spirits. 

•  Some  say  she  turned  him  out. 

*  Sluwa',  the  crane,  or  some  Bimilar  bird. 


338  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

32.     THE   GAMBLER  1 

Once  a  man  played  lehal  until  he  had  lost  everything.  First  he 
gambled  away  his  weapons,  then  his  clothes,  then  his  blankets  and 
food.  He  lost  also  his  four  children,  his  wife,  his  hair,  and  finally 
himself.  He  lay  down  that  night  feeling  very  miserable,  for  now  he 
was  virtually  a  slave  for  a  time.  Moreover,  he  was  naked,  and  without 
wife  or  children.  He  brooded  so  much  over  his  bad  luck  that  he  could 
not  sleep,  so  at  last  he  arose  and  went  to  the  house  of  an  old  woman 
who  was  celebrated  for  her  wisdom.  She  told  him  that  his  bad  luck 
came  through  his  not  having  trained  enough;  and  she  advised  him  to 
go  to  the  mountains,  and  train  himself  for  four  years.  "  If  you  do 
this,"  she  said,  "  you  will  become  wise  and  rich."  He  took  her  advice, 
and  at  once  retired  to  the  mountains.  At  the  end  of  the  four  years 
he  had  become  very  wise,  and  knew  what  to  do.  He  had  obtained 
several  powerful  protectors,  chief  among  which  was  the  knife. 

Now  he  repaired  to  a  lake  on  the  other  side  of  which  dwelt  a  number 
of  people  in  two  underground  houses.  Those  who  lived  in  one  were 
good  people,  while  those  who  dwelt  in  the  other  were  bad  people  and 
cannibals.  Over  each  house  presided  a  chief;  KalEniixxwa'  being  the 
name  of  the  bad  chief,  and  Asuxxwa',^  the  name  of  the  good  one. 
On  the  lake-shore,  and  not  very  far  from  the  houses,  lived  Loon,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  take  across  the  lake  any  one  who  wished  to  visit  the 
chiefs.  He  had  a  copper  canoe,  which  he  used  for  this  purpose.  The 
gambler  arrived  at  the  lake-shore,  and  called  on  Loon  to  take  him 
across;  but  Loon  evidently  did  not  hear,  for  he  paid  no  attention. 
Getting  tired  of  calling,  the  gambler  lay  down,  and,  feeling  tired, 
yawned.  As  soon  as  he  yawned.  Loon  seemed  to  hear  or  know  that 
some  one  wished  to  cross;  for  he  immediately  launched  his  canoe  and 
paddled  rapidly  across  the  lake.  When  still  some  distance  from  the 
shore,  he  stopped  the  canoe  and  told  the  man  to  jump  in.  This  the 
gambler  did  at  one  bound.  When  he  was  seated  in  the  canoe,  Loon 
asked  him  which  house  he  wished  to  visit,  and  the  man  answered, 
"  I  am  going  to  see  Asiixxwa'."  Loon  said,  "  Are  you  sure  that  it  is 
not  KalEniixxwa'  you  intend  to  visit?  "  But  the  gambler  knew  the 
difference  in  character  of  the  two  chiefs:  so  he  said  again,  "  Asiixxwa'." 
—  "  That  is  strange,"  said  Loon.  "  Every  one  who  crosses  here  goes 
to  see  KalEniixxwa'." 

Reaching  the  other  side,  the  gambler  went  up  to  Asiixxwa"s  house, 
and  entered.  The  chief  spoke  to  him  kindly,  and  invited  him  to  sit 
among  the  people;  but  the  gambler  preferred  to  sit  apart,  saying,  "  I 
do  not  yet  know  enough  to  sit  among  you."  Then  Asiixxwa'  said, 
"  I  will  make  you  all  right,"  and,  going  up  to  him,  he  struck  him  four 

'   See  Hill-Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst,  xxxv,  p.  199;  also  p.  364. 
*  Sometimes  called  AnEsiixxwa'. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Colmnbia      339 

times  with  a  whip  of  switches,  and  then  told  him  to  go  and  wash  him- 
self four  times.  When  he  returned  from  wasiiing,  the  chief  gave  him 
his  two  daughters  to  wife. 

Kalimiixxwa',  hearing  there  was  a  stranger  in  the  other  chief's  house, 
went  to  test  him  at  lehal.  He  put  up  his  two  daughters  and  much 
goods  as  a  stake.  The  man  won  all,  but  returned  the  goods  to  KalE- 
niixxwa',  while  the  two  daughters  he  kept.  After  this,  KalEniixxw'a' 
did  not  trouble  him  again. 

The  gambler  had  now  four  wives.  One  of  his  first  two  wives  bore 
him  a  daughter,  and  one  of  the  wives  he  won  at  lehal  also  bore  him  a 
daughter.  After  he  had  staid  some  time  with  these  people,  his  children 
began  to  cry  to  see  their  grandmother:  so  he  took  his  four  wives '  and 
two  children,  and  returned  to  his  parents  in  his  own  country'.  Some 
time  afterwards  a  man  there  lost  everything  playing  lehal :  so,  having 
heard  the  story  of  the  gambler's  success,  he  went  and  asked  him  how  he 
had  managed  to  become  so  rich  and  such  a  good  gambler.  The  gambler 
said,  "  I  trained  four  years,  then  went  to  the  lake  where  Loon  takes 
people  across  in  his  copper  canoe.  When  crossing,  I  was  asked  whether 
I  intended  to  visit  the  chief  KalEniixxwa'  or  the  chief  Asiixxwa',  and  I 
said  the  former.  I  was  directed  to  his  house,  and,  on  reaching  there, 
I  staid  and  gained  great  knowledge."  The  man  believed  the  gambler's 
stor>',  did  as  directed;  and  Kalicniixxwa'  ate  him,  and  threw  his  bones 
out  beside  those  of  his  other  victims. 

33.     Tllli    WOMAN    WHO    WAS    I.MPALED   ON    A    TREE-TOP 

An  old  woman  lived  in  a  house  with  her  son  and  his  wife,-  a  young 
woman.  The  wife  went  out  every  day  to  gather  cedar-bark  and  to 
dig  fern-roots.  Although  she  always  staid  away  until  dark,  she 
never  brought  home  much  bark  or  roots.  She  really  spent  most  of 
her  time  each  day  with  Lynx,  who  used  to  meet  her  in  the  forest. 
Her  husband  became  suspicious.  One  day  he  watched  his  wife,  and 
saw  her  with  Lynx.  On  the  following  day  he  said  to  her,  "  I  love  you 
very  much,  and  )ike  to  be  with  you.  I  will  go  with  you  to-day  to  dig 
roots  and  gather  bark."  When  they  had  travelled  some  distance 
through  the  forest,  they  arrived  at  the  bottom  of  a  very  tall,  straight 
tree.  The  husband  climbed  the  tree,  and  asked  his  wife  to  follow, 
which  she  did.  When  he  reached  the  top,  he  sharpened  the  point  of 
the  tree  with  his  knife,  and  impaled  his  wife  on  it.  Then,  as  he 
dcscendcfl,  he  peeled  the  bark  off  the  tree  for  a  long  distance  down, 
and  went  lionic,  li'a\ing  his  wifi"  to  die. 

'  Some  .lay  he  t<K)k  with  him  only  the  two  wivrs  who  \-hmv  him  childrrn. 

*  Some  say  tlie  man  was  a  I.illiMirt,  ami  that  hit  wife  IwlotiKeil  to  one  of  the  tribes  of 
the  coast  (see  Teit.  Mythology,  pp.  285  [i:ia'm<jt).  jH.^  (Nirola);  Hoas.  Sagtn.  pp.  22  [Ftascr 
Delta],  89  (Comox),  96  (I'untlatch],  laj  (Nootka|.  129  [Kwakititl|;  Huas.  Kwakiml  Tales 
[Columbia  University  Contributions  to  Anthropology,  vol.  ii.  p.  400]). 


34°  Jourjial  of  Americaji  Folk-Lore 

It  was  a  very  hot  clay,  and  the  woman  sufTcrcd  terribly.  She  called 
for  help  to  her  brothers,  who  were  at  sea  in  a  canoe,  harpooning  seals. 
They  heard  her,  and  went  to  her  rescue,  and  she  told  them  how  she 
came  to  be  there.  They  called  together  all  the  animals  and  birds, 
and  asked  them  to  try  and  save  the  woman;  but  they  were  all  unable 
to  climb  the  slippery  part  of  the  tree.  At  last  Snail  tried  it.  Snail 
was  so  slow  climbing  up  the  peeled  part  of  the  tree,  that  the  woman 
was  dead  when  he  reached  her.     Snail  took  the  body  down. 

Now,  one  of  the  brothers,  who  looked  very  much  like  his  sister,  cut 
off  her  hair  and  put  it  on  his  own  head.  He  also  put  on  her  clothes, 
took  her  basket  on  his  back,  and  in  the  evening  went  to  the  house  of 
the  old  woman,  who  said,  thinking  it  was  her  daughter-in-law,  "  What 
keeps  you  so  late  when  you  gather  so  few  roots?  "  The  husband  was 
surprised  to  see  what  he  thought  was  his  wife,  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  allowed  the  brother  to  go  to  bed  with  him.  The  pretended  wife 
said  to  him,  "  You  must  not  touch  me  to-night.  I  am  sore  after  what 
you  did  to  me."  So  the  husband  turned  over  and  went  to  sleep. 
When  he  was  sound  asleep,  the  brother  took  out  a  large  sharp  knife 
which  he  had  hidden  in  his  clothes,  and  cut  the  husband's  throat;  then 
he  put  a  log  in  his  place  in  the  bed  and  covered  it  over. 

On  the  next  morning  the  old  woman  called  to  her  son  and  his  wife 
to  get  up,  but  they  did  not  stir.  About  noon  she  uncovered  them, 
and  found  a  stick  lying  in  the  place  of  the  woman,  and  her  son  dead 
with  his  throat  cut.  The  brothers  buried  their  sister's  body,  and  then 
returned  to  their  home  on  the  sea. 

34.     BROTHER   AND    SISTER  * 

A  widower  lived  in  an  underground  house  with  his  son  and  his 
■maiden  daughter.  The  father  kept  the  girl  in  a  box  near  his  own  bed, 
for  he  was  afraid  some  of  the  young  men  might  touch  her.  One  night, 
when  the  father  was  asleep,  the  brother  opened  the  lid  of  the  box, 
went  inside,  and  staid  with  his  sister.  Neither  of  them  spoke,  and  the 
girl  did  not  know  who  he  was.  The  brother  did  this  three  successive 
nights.  The  girl  desired  to  know  who  was  visiting  her,  so  she  rubbed 
some  powdered  charcoal  and  grease  on  the  palms  of  her  hands;  and, 
on  the  fourth  night  when  he  visited  her,  she  embraced  him,  leaving  the 
imprints  of  her  hands  on  his  back.  Next  morning  she  sat  down  on  the 
roof  of  the  house  to  watch  the  lads  playing,  to  find  out  which  of  them 
had  visited  her.  She  saw  the  black  hand-marks  on  her  brother's  back, 
and  felt  greatly  ashamed.  That  night,  when  he  visited  her,  she  told 
him  what  she  had  done.     "  I  am  very  much  ashamed,"  she  said.     "  It 

•  See  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  37  (Eraser  Delta),  124  (Nootka);  Hill-Tout.  Report  189Q,  p.  566 
^Thompson).  Known  to  the  Lower  Thompson  under  the  title  "  Roiastcu't "  or  "  Roies- 
tcfl'it  "  ("they  burnt  themselves").  Hill-Tout's  principal  informant,  Chief  Michel, 
belonged  to  the  Lower  Thompson. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     341 

will  never  do  for  our  father  and  the  people  to  know.  We  had  better 
leave  here  together."  That  night  they  ran  away  together,  and 
travelled  to  another  country,  where  they  lived  by  themselves.  They 
made  a  house  in  a  place  where  game  was  abundant,  and  in  time  the 
girl  gave  birth,  first  to  a  boy,  and  then  to  a  girl. 

When  the  children  grew  large  enough  to  run  around,  their  parents 
always  made  them  stay  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fireplace;  for  they 
were  afraid,  if  they  came  too  near,  they  might  notice  the  great  re- 
semblance between  their  father's  and  mother's  faces.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  precaution,  the  children  noticed  the  similarity,  and  said  to 
each  other,  "  How  much  alike  our  father  and  mother  are!  "  The 
children  asked  their  parents  how  it  was  they  were  so  much  alike,  and 
the  parents  felt  embarrassed. 

At  last  the  mother  told  them  the  story  of  their  disgrace.  The  father 
said,  "  We  feel  too  much  ashamed  to  live  with  our  children:  we  had 
better  kill  ourselves."  They  hung  food  and  goat  hair  and  skins  in  a 
tree,  and  told  the  children  that  it  was  for  them,  because  they  them- 
selves were  going  to  die  soon.  The  children  cried  when  they  heard 
that  their  parents  were  going  to  die;  but  the  father  said,  "  We  are 
not  going  to  die  yet."  So  the  children  laughed  and  were  glad  again. 
Their  father  told  them  how  to  travel  to  reach  their  grandfather's  house. 
It  would  take  them  many  days;  but  they  would  have  food  and  clothes 
enough  for  the  journey,  if  they  took  what  was  hanging  on  the  tree. 
Whenever  their  father  talked  thus,  they  would  cry.  Then  he  would 
cheer  them  by  saying  it  would  not  be  for  a  long  time  yet;  and  the 
children  would  be  merr>',  and  play  again. 

The  parents  gathered  much  pitch-wood,  which  they  placed  in  and 
around  their  lodge  to  make  it  burn  quickly.  Then,  one  day,  when 
the  children  were  playing  some  distance  away,  the  woman  went  into 
the  Ifxlge;  and  the  man,  after  setting  fire  to  the  house  all  around  the 
outside,  joined  her.  I  luis  they  burned  themselves  to  death  in  their 
lodge. 

The  children  saw  the  flames,  an<l  hurrird  hoinc,  but  (00  Lite  to  see 
their  parents  again.  After  crying  bitterly,  they  made  up  packs  of  the 
food  that  had  been  left  on  the  tree,  anrl  started  for  their  grandfather's 
house.  When  they  arrived  there,  tluir  grandfather  aski-d  them  who 
they  were  and  whence  they  came,  and  they  told  him  the  whole  story. 
They  remained  with  their  grandfather  and  his  pi-ople. 


342  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

35.     THE    FLOOD,    AND    DISTRIBUTION    OF    PEOPLE  > 

All  the  Lillooct  people  lived  together  around  Green  Lake,  and  for 
some  distance  below  it  on  Green  River. '^  At  that  time  there  came  a 
great  and  continuous  rain,  which  made  all  the  lakes  and  rivers  overflow 
their  banks,  and  deluge  the  surrounding  country.  When  the  people 
saw  the  waters  rise  far  above  the  ordinary  high-water  mark,  they 
became  afraid. 

A  man  called  Ntci'nemkin  had  a  \ery  large  canoe,  in  which  he 
took  refuge  with  his  family.  The  other  people  ascended  the  moun- 
tains for  safety;  but  the  water  soon  covered  them  too.  When  they 
saw  that  they  would  probably  all  be  drowned,  they  begged  Ntci'nemkin 
to  save  their  children.  As  for  themselves,  they  did  not  care.  The 
canoe  was  too  small,  however,  to  hold  all  the  children:  so  Ntci'nemkin 
took  one  child  from  each  family,  —  a  male  from  one,  a  female  from 
the  next,  and  so  on. 

The  rain  continued  falling  and  the  water  rising,  until  all  tiie  land 
was  submerged  except  the  peak  of  the  high  mountain  called  Split 
(Nci'kato).^  The  canoe  drifted  about  until  the  waters  receded,  and 
it  grounded  on  Smimelc  Mountain.*  Each  stage  of  the  water's  sinking 
left  marks  on  the  sides  of  this  mountain. 

When  the  ground  was  dry  again,  the  people  settled  just  opposite 
the  present  site  of  Pemberton.  Ntci'nemkin  with  his  wives  and 
children  settled  there,  and  he  made  the  young  people  marry  one 
another.  He  sent  out  pairs  to  settle  at  all  the  good  food-places 
through  the  country.  Some  were  sent  back  to  Green  Lake  and  Green 
River;  others  were  sent  down  to  Little  Lillooet  Lake  and  along  the 
Lower  Lillooet  River;  and  some  were  sent  up  to  Anderson  and  Sea- 
ton  Lakes.  Thus  was  the  country  peopled  by  the  offspring  of  the 
Green  Lake  people.^ 

'  Compare  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  20. 

*  Green  Lake  and  Green  River  are  situated  in  the  heart  of  the  Cascades,  at  the  south- 
western head  waters  of  the  Upper  Lillooct  River.  They  lie  in  the  watershed  between  the 
Lillooet  and  Squamish,  and  the  Squamish  trail  passes  right  along  them.  They  are  only 
thirty  miles,  or  a  little  over,  from  the  sea.  From  tradition,  this  place  seems  to  have  been 
the  main  early  abode  of  the  Lillooet  people,  and  was  convenient  for  trading  with  the  Coast 
Indians.  Probably  long  ago  the  Lillooet  may  have  occupied  a  position  similar  to  that  of 
the  Chilcotin,  who  at  one  time  lived  together  near  the  divide,  for  convenience  in  trading 
with  the  Bella  Coola. 

*  This  mountain  is  situated  on  the  west  side  of  the  lower  end  of  Lillooet  Lake.  Its 
peak  consists  of  a  great  precipice  split  in  two  perpendicularly. 

*  This  mountain  is  just  opposite  Pemberton  Meadows,  to  the  northeast,  and  is  rather 
low  and  flat.  It  has  a  number  of  flat  terraces  on  its  sides  (one  above  the  other),  which 
are  said  to  be  the  marks  of  the  receding  flood. 

'  Some  say  Ntci'nemkin  sent  a  pair  to  each  country,  and  that  every  tribe  in  the  interior 
and  on  the  coast  is  descended  from  one  of  the  pairs  of  Lillooet  people  sent  abroad  after  the 
flood. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     343 

36.     THE    POOR    MAN;    OR,    THE    ORIGIN'    OF    COPPER' 

Formerly  many  people  lived  at  Green  Lake  and  its  vicinity.  The 
only  other  people  known  to  them  were  some  who  lived  on  the  Lillooet 
River.-     They  did  not  know  of  the  Coast  Indians  at  that  time. 

The  Green  Lake  people  were  visited  by  some  disease,  and  all  died 
excepting  an  old  woman  and  her  grandson.  They  were  very  poor, 
and  the  boy  cried  constantly.  The  old  woman  made  a  bow  and 
arrows,  a  bark  canoe,  and  many  toys  with  which  to  amuse  him;  but 
he  continued  to  cry  as  much  as  ever.  She  made  a  fish-line  of  hair,* 
and  taught  him  how  to  fish.  This  pacified  him,  and  he  now  spent 
most  of  his  time  in  fishing. 

One  day  he  caught  something  heavy,  and  his  line  broke.  He  went 
home  and  told  his  grandmother,  who  made  a  new  line  for  him  of  hemp 
(spa'tsan)  bark,  and  put  a  ball  of  her  own  hair  on  the  hook  as  a  bait. 
The  boy  was  well  pleased,  and  went  back  to  the  same  place  to  fish. 
He  hooked  something  heavy  again;  but  this  time  he  had  a  strong  line, 
and  was  able  to  pull  it  out.  It  was  a  large  piece  of  copper,  —  a  thing 
which  the  people  had  never  seen  before.  He  rolled  it  up  carefully  in 
brush,  and  took  it  home.  His  grandmother  saw  it  was  something 
rare  and  precious,  so  she  told  him  to  lay  it  by,  which  he  did. 

When  the  boy  had  grown  a  bit,  he  began  to  shoot  many  humming- 
birds and  other  bright-plumaged  birds,  the  skins  of  which  he  made 
into  robes.  When  he  reached  the  age  of  puberty,  he  began  to  hunt 
larger  game,  and  became  a  great  hunter.  He  killed  many  bears  and 
deer  and  goats.  His  grandmother  spent  all  her  time  making  the  skins 
into  robes,  in  making  goat-hair  blankets,  and  in  laying  up  a  large  supply 
of  food.  At  the  end  of  several  years  the  house  was  quite  full  of  food 
of  all  kinds,  and  robes  of  goat-hair,  goat-skin,  deer,  bear,  and  marmot 
skin,  etc. 

Now  the  lad  asked  his  gran(hii()lhiT  what  he  should  do  with  the 
copper  he  had  found;  and  she  said,  "  Show  it  to  the  people.  I  think 
there  are  some  people  who  live  on  the  Lillooet  River," 

One  day  not  long  after  this,  while  the  lad  was  hunting  on  I  lie  wc-tcrn 
slopes  of  the  Cascade  Mountains,  he  met  some  strange  men  who  said 
they  were  Scjuamish.  The  strangers  left  him,  and  in  their  e.xplorations 
reached  his  grandmother's  house.  She  was  sur{)rised  to  see  them. 
They  said  they  belonged  to  the  sea,  and  asked  her  what  she  was  doing 
there  all  alone.  She  siiid  that  she  and  her  son  were  the  only  ones  left 
of  the  people  of  that  region.  Thus  the  Coast  Indians  became  known 
to  them. 

•  Some  say  tliat  the  cvrnls  narratpM  in  this  ntnry  took  place  at  a  later  porio*!  than  thote 
of  the  other  slorieo,  and  that  this  tale  does  nut  l>elontc  to  the  tin»c  of  the  ancients. 

'  The  Lf)wer  I.illtMK-l  is  nieniil. 

•  Some  say  she  made  the  line  oi  lu-r  own  hair. 


344  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

Now  the  old  woman  said  to  the  lad,  "  Our  house  is  full.  It  is  now 
time  that  you  invited  the  people."  So  he  went  to  the  Lillooet  River, 
and  invited  the  people  he  found  there.  He  also  journeyed  to  the  coast, 
and  invited  the  Squamish.  When  all  the  guests  had  assembled,  he 
went  and  got  his  copper.  The  Copper  said  to  him,  "  When  you  show 
me  to  the  people,  you  must  put  feathers  and  down  on  your  head, 
wear  a  feather  blanket,  and  carry  a  rattle  in  your  hand.  You  must 
dance  when  you  show  me."  The  lad  dressed  as  directed;  and  when 
he  showed  the  copper,  he  danced,  and  sang  the  story  of  its  origin,  and 
how  he  found  it.  He  feasted  the  people  many  days,  and  before  their 
departure  he  gave  each  one  a  present  of  a  robe.  They  all  called  him  a 
chief.  His  fame  spread;  and,  when  the  Lower  Fraser  people  heard  of 
him,  one  of  their  chiefs  came  and  gave  his  daughter  to  be  the  young 
man's  wife.  One  of  the  Squamish  chiefs  also  brought  his  daughter 
and  gave  her  to  him  in  marriage.  The  young  man  gave  marriage- 
presents  of  pieces  of  copper  to  his  fathers-in-law. 

By  his  two  wives  he  had  many  children,  mostly  sons;  and  people  of 
distant  countries,  on  hearing  of  him  and  of  his  sons,  visited  them, 
bringing  their  daughters,  whom  they  married  to  his  sons.  For  each 
daughter-in-law  he  gave  a  piece  of  copper.  Thus  copper  was  dis- 
tributed among  all  the  tribes.  The  people  who  had  received  it  valued 
it  very  highly,  and  would  not  part  with  it,  for  it  was  rare  and  gave 
them  a  higher  standing  among  their  people.  When  they  showed  their 
copper,  they  always  dressed  in  feathers,  and  danced. 

The  Shuswap  and  the  Thompsons  each  married  a  daughter  to  the 
sons  of  the  Green  Lake  chief.  Thus  the  Green  Lake  people  became 
very  numerous  again;  and  some  of  them  moved  farther  east,  and 
settled  around  Pemberton  and  Lillooet  Lake.  In  recent  years  the 
Green  Lake  Indians  have  left  that  region  altogether,  and  settled 
among  the  Pemberton  Indians. 

37.   THE  s'a'innux^ 

Between  the  Indian  village  of  Pemberton  and  Green  Lake,  at  a 
place  a  little  above  Curric's  Ranch,  there  formerly  lived  a  number  of 
people  in  two  underground  houses.  These  people  were  called  S'ii'- 
innux,  and  were  very  familiar  with  the  water,  and  powerful  in  magic. 
Their  chief  had  two  daughters  who  were  very  handsome,  and  many 
young  men  from  the  neighboring  country  were  anxious  to  obtain  them 
as  wives;  but  all  who  had  attempted  to  court  them  had  been  killed 
by  their  magic.  The  bones  of  these  unfortunate  suitors  were  heaped 
up  around  the  houses  for  a  considerable  distance  away. 

One  day  the  four  Transformer  brothers'^  arrived  near  their  house, 

>  See  Tcit.  The  Lillooet,  Publications  of  the  Jesup  North   Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii, 
p.  252. 

'  The  Black-Bear  Brothers  (see  p.  350). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     345 

and  one  of  them  at  once  undertook  to  obtain  the  girls.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  house,  the  girls'  mother  saw  him,  and  called  out,  "  An- 
other man  comes  for  a  wife!  "  Then  one  of  the  girls  ran  out,  laughing, 
and  embraced  him  when  she  met  him.  As  soon  as  she  did  this,  his 
flesh  began  to  disappear,  and  he  died :  only  a  heap  of  bones  was  left  on 
the  spot.  As  he  did  not  return,  another  brother  went,  and  fared  in 
the  same  way  as  the  first.  Then  the  third  brother  went;  and  he  also 
met  a  like  fate. 

Now,  the  fourth  brother  knew  that  there  was  something  wrong:  so 
he  went  to  an  old  woman  who  lived  in  a  small  house  near  the  trail, 
and  asked  her  advice.  She  told  him  what  tests  he  would  have  to  go 
through,  and  advised  him  to  sweat  in  her  sweat-house  before  he  went 
to  see  the  S'a'innux.  He  did  as  directed;  and  when  he  finished  sweat- 
bathing,  he  knew  everything,  and  was  full  of  magic.  Then  he  took  his 
quiver  full  of  arrows,  his  bow  and  knife,  his  fish-spear,  his  snowshoes, 
and  his  paint  and  grease,  went  to  the  S'a'innux  at  night,  and  lay  down 
between  the  two  sisters.  When  they  awoke,  they  were  surprised  to 
find  a  man  between  them,  and  especially  such  a  handsome  man;  for  he 
shone  like  light,  and  his  body  was  smooth  to  the  touch.  They  awoke 
their  parents,  who  were  surprised;  and,  after  looking  at  the  man,  they 
were  satisfied  with  him  as  their  son-in-law,  and  allowed  him  to  stay 
with  their  daughters. 

On  the  following  morning  the  parents  were  surprised  to  find  their 
daughters  still  in  bed,  for  they  were  always  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
wash  themselves  at  daybreak.  At  last  they  arose;  and  one  of  them 
went  to  fetch  water,  while  the  other  one  made  the  fire  and  began  to 
cook.  The  man  did  not  get  up;  and  the  jiarents,  being  curious  to  have 
a  look  at  him  now  by  daylight,  removed  the  blanket  which  covered 
him.  They  were  astonished  to  see  a  very  old,  decrepit,  ugl>-  man  in 
place  of  the  handsome  man  they  had  seen  the  night  before.  Then  they 
laughed  at  their  daughters,  and  said,  "  What  a  wretch  to  have  for  a 
s(m-in-law!"  Hut  one  of  the  girls  would  not  desert  him,  as  she  thought 
he  was  only  playing  a  trick:  so  she  carried  him  around  in  a  basket 
everywhere  she  went. 

Once  the  parents,  expecting  to  have  a  laugh  at  iho  girl  and  her 
husband,  said,  "Let  our  son-in-law  gather  lire-wood!"  His  wife 
carried  him  to  a  tree,  which,  apparently  with  ^reat  difliculty,  he 
chopped  down  and  split  up,  the  people  meanwhile  looking  on  and 
laughing  at  him.  His  wife  went  home  with  her  basket,  intending  to 
return  for  him  before  long.  In  her  absence,  the  parents  attacked  him, 
and  left  him  for  dead.  When  the>'  reached  their  house,  they  said, 
"  Our  son-in-law  killed  himself  while  splitting  wood."  Now,  when 
they  had  gone,  the  man  arose,  gathered  the  wood  together,  and  made  it 
assume  the  size  of  a  small  bundle,  which  In-  took  to  the  house.     He 


346  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

threw  it  (l(»\vn,  and  the  wood  ri'tiirncd  to  its  natural  proportions.  He 
had  changed  himself  back  again  into  a  handsome,  athletic  man. 

Then  the  parents  said,  "  Let  our  son-in-law  go  hunting!  "  He  took 
his  weapons  and  snowshocs,  and  went  out.  When  he  had  been  gone  a 
little  time,  one  of  the  S'ii'innux,  iioping  to  kill  him  on  the  mountains, 
sang  a  song  to  make  snow  fall;  but  he  put  on  his  snowshoes,  ran 
over  the  snow,  and  killed  much  game,  which  he  made  to  assume  the 
proportion  of  a  small  pack.  He  threw  it  into  one  house,  and  it 
became  almost  full  of  meat  and  fat. 

Then  the  people  said,  "  Let  him  go  to  spear  salmon!  "  They  con- 
ducted him  to  a  rapid  some  distance  up  the  river,  which  was  tlic  abode 
of  "  water-mysteries  "^  in  the  shape  of  mermen,  half  man  and  half 
fish.  One  of  these  appeared,  and  the  people  said,  "  That  is  a  salmon. 
Spear  it  quickly!"  He  speared  it,  and  w^as  at  once  dragged  under 
the  water.  The  parents  returned  home  and  said,  "  Our  son-in-law 
has  been  drowned."  But  before  long  he  arrived,  carrying  two  mer- 
men in  each  hand. 

The  people  were  afraid,  and  said,  "  Do  not  take  them  in  here! 
Throw  them  away !  "  He  paid  no  attention,  however,  and  threw  them 
into  the  house.  At  once  the  water  rose  in  the  houses,  and  drowned 
all  the  S'a'innux,  excepting  the  Transformer's  wife  and  her  sister, 
brother,  and  parents.  Then  the  man  made  a  large  hole,  which  he 
caused  to  become  full  of  water.  He  jumped  over  each  of  the  skeletons 
which  were  strewed  around  the  houses,  and  told  each  man,  as  he 
came  to  life  again,  to  go  and  wash  in  the  water.  This  they  did,  and 
afterwards  returned  to  their  homes.  The  descendants  ^  of  the  S'a'innux 
dance  at  potlatches,  with  masks  and  clothes  representing  half  man, 
half  fish.-' 

38.   THE  haitlo'laux  and  wolf  people,  ancestors  of  the 

liluet'o'l  •* 

In  the  region  inhabited  by  the  Liluet'o'l  there  formerly  lived  two 
groups  or  families  of  people  who  never  intermarried  with  each  other. 
One  group,  called  HaiLo'laux  (or  Haitlo'laux),  lived  in  underground 
houses  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  that  empties  into  the  head  of  Big 
Lillooet  Lake;  while  the  other  group,  known  as  the  Wolf  people, 
lived  a  few  miles  upstream,  on  its  north  bank,  above  its  junction  with 

•  Some  say  these  were  friends  of  the  S'a'innux. 

*  These  people  are  now  included  with  the  Liluet'o'l. 

•  This  story  is  obviously  based  on  the  widely-spread  story  of  the  tests  of  the  son-in-law 
which  is  current  among  all  the  coast  tribes  (see  Robert  H.  Lowie,  "The  Test-Theme 
in  North  American  Mythology,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-lore,  vol.  xxi  [1908],  pp.  97 
el  seq.,  particularly  p.  135). 

*  Compare  some  Uta'mqt  stories  (see  Teit.  The  Lillooet,  Publications  of  the  Jesup 
North  Pacific  Expedition,  vol.  ii,  p.  252). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     347 

the  Pole  River.  They  also  li\ed  in  underground  houses.  The  sites 
of  their  underground  houses  are  pointed  out  by  the  Indians  at  the 
present  day. 

The  HaiLo'laux  were  very  tall  people  (the  men  about  ten  feet  in 
height)  and  very  broad  and  strong.  Many  of  the  men  had  hair  on 
their  breasts,  and  looked  like  boars;  while  all  (jf  them  had  very  long 
hair  on  their  heads,  reaching  almost  to  the  ground.  Most  of  them 
had  black  hair,  but  some  had  brown,  and  quite  a  number  had  red  hair. 
They  were  a  bad  people,  and  were  never  known  to  sleep.  They 
wandered  about  at  night,  and  stole  things  from  the  Wolf  people,  who, 
when  they  went  to  their  house  and  asked  for  the  stolen  property,  were 
always  met  with  the  answer,  "  We  know  nothing  about  what  you  lost. 
\\  hy  do  you  come  here  to  look  at  our  privates?  "  When  the  Wolf 
people  would  put  fish  in  the  water  to  soak,  the  HaiLo'laux  would  fre- 
(juently  steal  it,  for  they  were  fond  of  fish,  and  used  to  catch  them  by 
swimming  after  them  under  the  water.  The  Wolf  people  were  of 
medium  size  (some  of  them  small),  and  were  wealthier  and  better 
hunters  and  fishermen  than  the  others.  Both  people  were  endowed 
with  magic  in  a  high  degree,  especially  the  HaiLo'laux. 

The  HaiLo'laux  had  a  chief  who  had  four  daughters  noted  for  their 
magical  powers.  The  Wolf  chief  sent  four  men  to  watch  the  HaiLo'- 
laux and  see  what  they  did  at  night.  They  hid  themselves  near  the 
river-bank.  At  evening  the  chief  came  out  of  his  house;  then,  a  while 
afterwards,  one  of  his  daughters  came  out  also.  Thus  they  came  out 
one  at  a  time,  the  fourth  daughter  appearing  about  midnight.  The 
four  women  went  down  to  the  river  and  washed  themselves  near 
where  the  Wolf  men  were  hidden;  and  the  latter  jumped  out  on  them, 
and  took  them  home  to  be  their  wives.  When  they  reached  the 
ladder  of  the  underground  house,  the  women  suddenly  became  invisible 
and  left  them,  and  each  of  the  men  found  that  he  was  bleeding,  —  one 
of  them  below  the  ankle,  one  at  the  back  of  the  head,  another  above 
the  eye,  and  the  fourth  one  from  the  heart.  The  men  were  aston- 
ished, and  went  into  the  hf)use  and  reported  their  arKcnturt-.  The 
W(jmen  had  each  taken  some  of  their  blood  home. 

Some  days  afterward  a  HaiLo'laux  man  came  to  the  Wolf  house,  and 
asked  if  any  of  them  had  lost  blood,  as  the  chief's  four  daughters  had 
each  of  them  a  piece  (jf  dried  blood  hanging  above  their  beds.  One  of 
the  Wolf  men  said,  "  I  lost  some  blood  from  my  foot;"  and  the  HaiLo'- 
laux answered,  "  N'ou  had  better  come  and  see  if  it  is  ><)urs.  If  it  is, 
the  woman  who  has  it  will  marry  you."  He  went  to  the  HaiLo'laux 
house,  and,  .seeing  the  blood,  he  pointe(l  out  one  of  the  pieces  as  his. 
rhe  woman  who  {possessed  it  said,  "  .\o,  it  is  not  yours.  \'ou  must 
prove  it  to  be  yours  by  undergoing  a  lest  of  your  powers,  (io  into 
that  small  house  yonder,  and  stay  there  for  a  lime.     Vou  will  sec  a 


34^  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

web  of  fat  hanging  in  there  which  is  continually  dripping.  If  you  allow 
the  drops  to  fall  on  you,  they  will  burn  right  through  you,  unless 
you  are  strong  in  magic.  You  will  have  difficulty  in  breathing  when 
you  first  go  into  the  house,  but  that  will  wear  away.  As  soon  as  you 
feel  at  ease,  take  some  of  the  fat  and  put  it  to  your  mouth.  If  you 
don't  die  when  you  do  that,  then  eat  some.  If  you  still  feel  all  right 
after  eating  the  fat,  then  return  to  me.  If  you  die  during  the  test, 
your  flesh  will  be  burned  up,  and  only  your  bones  will  be  left."  The 
man  went  into  the  house  as  directed,  saw  the  web  of  fat,  and  said  to 
himself,  "  I  don't  wish  to  stay  here  long,  I  will  eat  the  fat  at  once  and 
be  done  with  it."  He  ate  the  fat,  and  at  once  died,  his  insides  and 
flesh  burning  up. 

The  next  day  a  HaiLo'laux  man  appeared  at  the  Wolf  house,  and 
told  them  that  their  friend  was  dead,  and  that  the  women  still  had  the 
blood  hanging  above  their  beds.  He  said,  "  Whoever  of  you  can  prove 
it  to  be  yours,  him  the  women  will  marry."  One  man  said,  "  Some  of 
it  is  blood  from  my  eye."  The  HaiLo'laux  said,  "  You  had  better 
go  and  claim  it."  The  Wolf  man  answered,  "  No,  I  am  not  strong 
enough  in  magic."  Another  said,  "  It  is  blood  from  my  head ;  but  I  will 
not  go  to  claim  it,  for  I  also  am  weak  in  magic."  The  fourth  man 
said,  "  It  is  blood  from  my  heart."  The  HaiLo'laux  answered,  "  Come 
and  claim  it,  then." 

The  Wolf  man  said,  "  Yes,  I  will  go,  and  conquer  or  die."  Taking 
his  bow  and  arrows,  his  quiver,  his  knife,  his  thunder  arrow-head,'  and 
his  paint,  he  started.  His  grandmother  lived  alone  in  a  little  house 
close  by,  and,  as  he  was  passing,  she  called  him  in.  She  said,  "  I 
will  give  you  advice."  She  told  him  what  tests  he  would  have  to  pass 
through,  and  added,  "  Before  going  to  the  HaiLo'laux,  you  must 
sweat-bathe  in  a  very  hot  sweat-house.  Thus  you  will  gain  the 
required  strength  and  knowledge."  He  did  as  directed;  and  when  he 
came  out  of  the  sweat-house  he  was  very  wise,  and  full  of  magic. 
He  went  to  the  HaiLo'laux  house,  and  claimed  a  piece  of  the  blood  as 
his.  The  woman  possessing  it  said,  "  Yes,  perhaps  it  is  yours;  but 
you  must  go  through  a  test."  They  gave  him  some  of  their  meat  to 
eat,  which  he  bolted  without  chewing.  Then  the  woman  sent  him  to 
the  small  house,  as  his  predecessor  had  been  sent.  When  he  had  been 
inside  a  while,  he  put  some  of  the  fat  to  his  mouth,  then,  before  long, 
he  ate  some.  When  he  came  out  of  the  house,  he  was  at  once  changed 
to  resemble  a  HaiLo'laux,  with  much  red  hair  all  over  his  body.  The 
hair  of  his  head  also  assumed  a  red  color. 

*  Skim'ast,  or  thunder  arrow-head,  of  the  Thompsons,  'llie  Lillooct,  Thompson,  and 
Shuswap  believe  that  they  are  fired  by  the  Thunder.  Most  of  these  are  simply  large 
pieces  of  arrow-stone,  generally  blocked  off  more  or  less,  so  that  they  somewhat  resemble 
a  spear-head  or  an  arrow-head  of  huge  size. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     349 

When  he  came  back  to  the  people,  they  said,  "  Fell  and  split  that 
tree  yonder."  He  took  his  hammer  and  chisel,  cut  the  tree  down,  and 
split  it.  When  he  had  nearly  finished,  the  wood  suddenly  became  hard 
to  split,  and  he  had  to  put  in  several  wedges.  Then  all  at  once  it 
yielded,  and  one  of  the  wedges  fell  into  the  crack.  The  people  said, 
"  Pick  it  out!  "  When  he  had  his  arm  and  head  in  the  crack,  they 
caused  the  crack  to  close  on  him.  He  spit  out  red  paint,  which  he 
had  in  his  mouth,  and  the  HaiLo'laux  thought  he  was  dead;  but  the 
wood  had  not  really  closed  on  him  very  tightly,  for  he  had  placed  his 
thunder-stone  crosswise  in  the  crack,  which  prevented  its  closing. 
When  the  people  had  gone  away,  he  split  up  the  rest  of  the  tree,  and, 
making  all  the  split  wood  into  one  small  piece,  threw  it  down  the  hole 
of  the  underground  house,  and  it  assumed  its  original  proportions.' 

The  HaiLo'laux  tested  his  powers  in  many  ways;  but  he  was  always 
equal  to  his  task,  and  even  showed  them  that  he  was  more  powerful 
in  magic  and  knowledge  than  they  were.  He  married  the  woman 
who  had  taken  his  blood,  and  eventually  became  chief  of  the  HaiLo'- 
laux. When  he  had  become  chief,  he  said,  "  The  HaiLo'laux  and  the 
Wolves  shall  become  one  people." 

One  night  he  told  stories-  to  the  HaiLo'laux,  and  asked  them  to  say 
"  I'a'i  "'  as  long  as  he  continued  relating  them.  They  did  as  told, 
and  eventually  all  fell  asleep.  After  this,  they  always  slept  at  night, 
like  ordinary  people.  He  assembled  the  HaiLo'laux  and  the  Wolf 
people,  and  told  them  they  must  all  eat  deer-meat,  and  thus  become 
like  one  people.  They  all  partook  of  the  venison,  e.xcept  some  of  the 
Wolf  people,  who  refused.  These  he  transformed  into  wolves,  saying, 
"  You  shall  be  wolves,  and  shall  always  have  poor  food,  and  often  be 
hungr>'."  Then  the  people  were  changed  to  look  like  Indians,  and  no 
longer  like  animals,  and  they  intermarried  with  one  another. 

The  descendants  of  the  Wolf  people  dress  in  wolf-skins,  and  wear 
wolf  masks  when  they  dance  at  potlatches;  and  the  descendants  of  the 
HaiLo'laux  dress  in  bear-skins,  and  wear  masks  somewhat  like  a  bear's 
face,  painted  red,  when  they  dance.  The  union  of  these  two  peoples 
made  the  Lilueto'l,  who  are  their  (k-scendanls.  Some  pe<)i)le,  it  is 
said,  occasionally  see  HaiLo'laux  in  the  mountains  at  tiu-  present  day. 

•  Sec  footnote  3  to  p.  346. 

'  Some  say  it  was  another  Wolf  man  who  visited  tlic  Haii.o'laux.  lliat  told  llu-  storirs. 

•  The  Shuswap,  Thompson,  and  Lillooet.  all  say  "L'a'i"  as  long  as  a  person  continues 
relating  a  mythological  story.  It  is  something  like  saying  "Yes."  and  shows  that  the 
people  are  awake  an<l  listening. 


350  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

IT.     TRADITIONS   OF   THE   LILLOOET  OF   THE   LAKES 

39.    COYOTE 

Coyote  was  sent  to  travel  over  the  world  and  put  it  to  rights.  He 
changed  the  natural  features  of  the  country  where  they  were  bad,  so 
that  the  people  should  be  able  to  live  easier.  He  transformed  all  the 
bad  ancients  into  stones,  birds,  animals,  and  fishes. 

Coyote  was  fond  of  joking,  and  was  boastful.  He  played  many 
tricks,  and  was  often  worsted  in  his  tricks.  He  was  very  wise,  yet 
sometimes  he  was  foolish,  and  did  silly  things.  Notwithstanding,  he 
was  the  greatest  worker  and  transformer  in  the  ancient  times.  He  had 
four  helpers,^  who  were  great  in  magic,  and  sometimes  accompanied 
him  on  his  travels.  They  were  the  Sun,  the  Moon,  Mu'epEm,^  and 
Skwia'xEnamux.^ 

40.     THE    BLACK-BEAR    BROTHERS 

There  were  four  brothers  called  the  Little-Black-Bears,  who  were 
also  great  transformers,  and  travelled  all  over  the  earth.  It  is  said 
they  did  not  belong  to  the  interior,  but  came  from  the  sea.  They 
came  up  the  Fraser  River  from  its  mouth,  and,  after  passing  through 
the  Thompson  country,  they  travelled  north  through  the  SLatLemux 
and  Shuswap  countries.'' 

41.   tsu'ntia^ 
This  story,  as  I  obtained  it  from  a  Lexale'xamu.x,  is  the  same  as  that 
printed  in  "Traditions  of  the  Thompson  River  Indians"  (p.  95),  with  the 
following  differences  and  additions:  — 
p.  95,  line  3.     The  maiden  belonged  to  SetL,  and  was  one  of  several  there 

who  refused  all  suitors. 
p.  95,  line  8.     The  girl  was  ashamed,  and  was  going  to  kill  her  child,  but 

the  people  told  her  to  rear  it. 
p.  95,  line  12.     He  went  to  Skimka'in,  and  played  shooting  arrows  with 
the  children  of  Tsana'tz,  who  was  an  old  man,  and  who  always  had 
his  face  and  body  painted  red.     Tsana'tz  ordered   him  away  twice, 
saying,  "Go  to  your  own  place  and  play,  you  bastard  son  of  Kokwe'la!" 
He  afterwards  changed  this  man  into  the  fish  of  that  name,  which  has 
a  red  color. 
'  See  the  coyote  cycles  of  the  Shuswap  and  Thompson  Indians,  footnote  2  on  p.  292; 
also  the  Xals  traditions  of  the  coast;  Boas,  Sagen,  pp.  19  (Fraser  Delta),  45  (Cowichan), 
56  (Squamish),  63  and  76  (Comox);  Hill-Tout,  Report  iqoo,  p.  518  (Squamish);  Hill- 
Tout,  Anthrop.  Inst.,  xxxiv,  p.  360. 

*  Seems  to  mean  "diver,"  or  "to  dive;  "  also  "  niu'ipi:in,"  "  smii'ipEin  "  or  "nniii'- 
ipEm." 

*  Arrow  wing  (arm)  man. 

*  See  p.  322. 

'  See  Teit,  Mythology,  pp.  224  (Uta'mqt),  319  (Nicola);  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  45;  Hill- 
Tout,  Report  i8q9,  p.  564  (Thompson). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia      351 

p.  95,  line  6  from  bottom.  He  returned  to  his  mother,  and  told  her  the 
Water  denied  having  killed  his  father.  She  then  said,  "The  Rock  killed 
him."  He  went  to  the  Rock  and  drew  his  bow  on  it,  saying  "  You  killed 
my  father:  I  will  shoot  you."  The  Rock  answered,  "  I  kill  people  some- 
times, but  I  know  those  I  kill.     Your  father  I  never  killed." 

p.  95,  line  3  from  bottom.  When  he  reached  his  full  stature,  he  commenced 
to  travel.  He  had  grown  to  be  a  man  of  very  large  size  and  great 
physical  strength.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  transform  all  those 
people  who  had  called  him  "bastard"  when  he  was  a  boy.  He  went 
to  SetL  and  transformed  those  peoi)lc  who  had  mocked  him.  One  he 
turned  into  a  grizzly  bear,  one  into  a  wolf,  and  one  into  a  marten.  Some 
others  he  transformed  into  birds  and  fishes.  He  then  scattered  them 
over  the  earth  in  different  directions. 

p.  96,  line  5.  He  crossed  the  Fraser  River  just  above  the  mouth  of  the 
Thompson,  and  named  the  place  Taka'ut.  He  met  the  four  Black- 
Bears  at  the  creek,  a  little  above  Nka'ia,  below  Lytton. 

p.  96,  line  9.  Sometimes  they  nearly  managed  to  transform  one  another 
into  stone,  but  there  was  always  some  part  of  their  body  they  were 
able  to  move;  therefore  they  gave  up  trying. 

p,  96,  line  12  from  end.  He  took  it  all  in  two  spoonfuls,  used  horn  spoons, 
and  boiled  food  in  a  stone  kettle. 

p.  96,  line  4  from  end.  The  brothers  said  they  were  thirsty,  and  were  too 
lazy  to  go  for  water.  Tsu'ntia  took  a  rock,  and,  placing  it  before  them, 
water  gushed  out  of  it,  and  they  drank.  Some  say  he  kicked  the  rock 
and  water  came  out. 

Wherever  Tsu'ntia   travelled,   the   kokwe'la-plants  recognized    him, 
and  embraced  him  by  entwining  themselves  around  his  legs.' 

When  Tsu'ntia  and  the  four  Black  Bear  brothers  had  traxclied  over 
the  earth  and  put  tinngs  to  rights,  they  met  one  another  at  the  edges 
of  the  earth.  The  brothers  said  to  Tsu'ntia,  "  There  >et  remains  one 
country  in  the  \v(jrld  where  the  i)Cople  are  bad.  We  ourselves  were 
not  able  to  |)iit  them  to  rights:  they  were  too  strong  for  us.  You, 
Kokwe'la,  who  are  full  of  mysterious  powtT,  you  go  to  that  country 
and  stop  the  sun,  so  the)-  may  all  die  and  be  burned  up  as  a  pimish- 
mcnt."  Tsu'ntia  said,  "  If  I  go  tliere  and  stop  the  sim,  all  the  people 
in  the  world  will  be  burned  up,  and  c\  crs  iliiiig  on  earth  besides." 

The  brothers  wouKl  not  believe  him,  so  he  commanded  the  sun  to 
stand  still.  Then  the  earth  began  to  become  hot  and  scorched,  and 
at  last  the  tops  of  the  trees  began  to  smoke.  The  brotlurs,  overcome 
with  heat,  and  afraid  of  being  burnt,  said,  "  We  see  sou  know,  and  si)eak 
the  truth.  .\ow  kt  the  sun  mo\  c  on  !  "  He  said,  "  Whistli- at  the  sun, 
and  it  will  go."  liut  they  asked  him  to  do  so  himself.  Now  he 
whistk'd,  and,  pointing  his  linger  at  the  sun,  the  latter  followed  his 
finger  as  he  moved  it  toward  the  west.     He  moved  his  linger  down 

'  The  Liluct'ci'l  .say  that  lir  Ix-lonK*'*!  '"  ll><-"  lower  end  of  Seaton  Lake. 
vol..  X.XV. — NO.  98. — 23 


352  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

over  the  mountains,  and  the  sun  set  rapidly.  Then  a  breeze  sprang 
up,  and  soon  cooled  the  earth  and  its  people.  The  bad  people  of  that 
countr\-  were  never  punished,  and  still  remain  somewhere  near  the  edge 
of  the  earth  to  the  east. 

42.    (a)    nk'e'olstem^    (first  version) 

The  SkimkainEmux  had  become  a  numerous  people,  and  a  descend- 
ant of  Xanau'kst  was  their  chief.  He  had  a  son  who  became  known 
as  Nk'e'olstem.  This  boy  went  from  one  house  to  another  at  intervals 
during  the  winter,  and  asked  the  people  for  food  of  different  kinds, 
saying  that  his  father  had  sent  him.  The  people  always  gave  him 
what  he  asked  for,  because  his  father  was  chief;  and  the  lad  took  the 
food  away  and  ate  it  himself. 

Just  about  spring,  when  most  of  the  people  had  come  out  of  their 
underground  houses,  he  asked  a  certain  hunter  for  deer's  back-fat, 
which  was  given  to  him.  The  man  went  to  the  lad's  father,  and  said, 
"  How  is  it  that  you  have  been  begging  food  all  winter  from  the 
people,  and  sending  your  son  for  it?  "  The  chief  never  answered  for 
four  days,  because  he  was  ashamed.  Then«he  told  the  people  secretly 
that  they  should  all  go  up  the  mountains,  and  desert  his  son.  They 
would  ask  some  lads  to  take  him  across  the  lake,  on  pretence  of  gather- 
ing arrow-wood,  and  leave  him  there. 

Early  the  following  morning,  some  lads  said  to  Nk'e'olstem,  "  Let 
us  go  across  the  lake  to  where  there  is  plenty  of  wood,  and  gather  sticks 
for  making  arrows!  "  As  soon  as  they  had  gone,  the  people  carried 
all  their  effects  to  the  canoes,  and  set  off  up  the  lake.  After  they  had 
gone  a  long  distance,  they  left  their  canoes,  and  went  up  the  mountains 
until  they  reached  a  place  called  Totce'lEks,  where  they  erected  lodges 
for  hunting. 

The  lads  took  Nk'e'olstem  into  the  bushes  to  look  for  arrow-sticks, 
and  said  to  him,  "  We  will  scatter  here,  and  will  whistle  to  one  another, 
so  that  each  may  know  the  other's  whereabouts." 

When  the  lads  were  out  of  his  sight,  they  defecated,  urinated,  and 
expectorated  on  the  ground,  and  told  their  excrements,  also  their 
urine  and  spittle,  to  w^histle,  and  w^hcn  they  heard  a  whistle  to  answer 
back.  Then  they  jumped  into  their  canoe,  and  paddled  hard  to 
overtake  the  other  people.  Nk'e'olstem  heard  whistling  all  around, 
and  thought  his  companions  were  still  near.  Toward  evening  the 
whistling  grew  faint,  and  in  some  places  stopped  altogether.  This  was 
because  the  excrements  had  become  dry.  Finally  he  discovered  what 
it  was  that  whistled.  He  ran  to  where  the  canoe  had  been,  and  found 
it  gone.  He  cried,  and  walked  around  the  lake  to  reach  home,  crying 
as  he  went. 

>  The  Thompson  Indians  call  this  story  "The  Sun  and  the  Lad;"  or  Nke'kaumstem 
("  they  twisted  bark  with  him  "  [?] ;  see  footnote  4  on  p.  296). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     353 

He  met  Gray-Body  (papae'ixkin^),  and  said  to  him,  "  Oh!  you  are 
the  only  one  that  did  not  leave  me.  Why  did  you  not  go  with  the 
rest?  "  He  struck  him  on  the  head  with  an  arrow-stick,  transforming 
him  into  the  snake  of  that  name.  He  said,  "  This  place  shall  be 
known  as  N'&co'it.  You  shall  live  here;  and  people  in  later  days  will 
find  snakes  \ery  abundant  here." 

In  iiis  distraction  lie  sat  down,  and  shoved  one  foot  past  the  other, 
leaving  the  marks  as  a  bare  scraped  rock,  which  may  be  seen  at  the 
present  day.  Also  at  this  place  he  threw  his  sticks  away,  and  high 
service-berries  now  grow  there  in  great  plenty.  The  place  is  known  as 
Place-where-he-kicked  {Ntcotcotcu' elu) . 

When  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  lodges  had  been,  he  found  them 
all  down.  He  went  up  to  a  place  near  by,  called  Ko'mikstin,  where 
the  winter  houses  and  caches  were,  and  found  them  all  deserted  also. 
In  one  house  which  had  been  recently  occupied  he  saw  a  large  basket 
turned  mouth  down.  He  said,  "  Why  do  they  leave  their  baskets 
behind?  "  and  gave  it  a  kick,  disclosing  an  old  woman.  Mink,  under- 
neath. He  was  glad  to  see  her.  She  had  a  slow-match,  consisting 
of  the  upper  part  of  a  dry  balsamorrhiza-root,-  which  she  had  lighted 
when  the  people  left.     With  this  she  had  lighted  a  fire. 

Now  he  went  around  all  the  people's  caches,  and  found  that  many 
of  the  people  had  taken  pity  on  him,  and  left  dried  fish,  fish-heads,  and 
back-bones  for  him.  He  took  these  to  Mink,  who  sent  him  to  gather 
i)ark  to  make  twine  for  snares.  When  they  had  made  many  snares, 
he  set  them,  and  caught  very  many  mice  of  different  kinds,  rats, 
squirrels,  chipmunks,  Hudson  Bay  birds,  pinejays,  bluejays,  and  other 
small  birds  and  animals.  The  old  wc^man  sewed  the  skins  together, 
and  made  many  robes;  so  that,  when  she  spread  them  out  in  the  sun- 
shine, they  covered  the  knoll  at  the  back  of  the  house.  They  lived 
on  the  flesh  of  the  birds  and  animals  he  snared. 

Now  he  dreamed  of  the  Sun,  who  appeared  to  him  seven  consecutive 
nights.  On  the  eighth  day,  at  evening,  just  after  the  Sun  had  set, 
he  approached  him  fn^m  the  west.  At  that  time,  people  could  look 
at  the  Sun;  for  he  was  like  the  Moon,  not  very  bright.  The  Sun  was 
clad  in  a  robe  of  mountain-goat'hair,  like  those  the  Lower  Lillooet 
U'-c.  lie  addressed  the  lad,  saying,  "  Vou  have  been  deserted  by  the 
people.  I  pil>'  you,  and  will  give  you  advice  and  power;  but  I  wish  to 
get  one  of  your  beautiful  blankets.  I  have  noticetl  them  often  as  I 
passed  overhead."  The  lad  answered,  "Take  your  choice  of  them: 
they  are  all  spread  out  on  the  knoll."      The  Sun  siiid,  "  I  desire  the 

'  The  Lillooet  name  of  a  variety  of  nnala-.     The  Thompson  call  it  spflaml'ixken. 

*  The  top  of  thirt  r(x)t  is  called  nko'l /iklrn,  and  Ih  very  fibrous.  Wlu-n  old  and  dry. 
it  was  used  sometimes  as  a  slow-match  by  the  I-iiliKx-l  and  Thompson,  and  perha  other 
tribes  of  the  interior. 


354  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore   ' 

one  you  use  for  a  pillow;  and  my  own  robe  I  will  give  to  you,  for  it 
is  not  bright  enough,  and  the  people  can  thus  look  at  me."  They 
exchanged  robes.  The  Sun  continued,  "  Those  people  who  left  no 
food  for  you  in  their  caches  you  will  transform  when  they  come  back." 
Then  he  showed  the  lad  how  to  make  fish-traps,'  and  instructed  him 
how  to  set  them.  He  followed  directions,  and  made  three  traps,  which 
he  set  next  evening  where  several  creeks  emptied  into  the  lake.  He 
was  the  first  man  who  ever  made  or  used  fish-traps;  and  those  he  made 
were  afterwards  turned  into  stone,  and  may  be  seen  at  the  present  day. 
He  caught  many  trout  in  his  traps,  and  Mink  split  them,  and  hung 
them  up  to  dry  on  sticks  and  in  branches  of  trees. 

One  day  the  lad  saw  Crow  approaching  in  a  canoe,  and  he  told  him 
to  go  back;  but  Crow  said  he  was  hungry;  so  the  boy  allowed  him  to 
land,  and  gave  him  some  fish,  some  of  which  he  took  home  and  fed  to 
his  children  after  dark.  His  children  made  so  much  noise  eating  the 
fish,  that  the  people  said,  "  Crow  must  be  feeding  his  children  some- 
thing. He  is  the  poorest  hunter,  and  yet  he  has  food  for  his  family. 
He  must  steal  it  from  some  place."  Crow  visited  Nk'e'olstem  again, 
and  brought  home  more  fish,  which  he  gave  to  his  children  after  dark. 
Now  the  people  were  sure:  so  they  asked  him  what  he  fed  his  children 
with,  and  where  he  got  it.  He  answered,  "  It  is  fish,  and  I  got  it  from 
the  lad  we  deserted.     He  has  lots  of  trout." 

As  the  people  could  find  no  game,  and  were  starving,  they  all 
returned  home  in  their  canoes.  When  they  arrived,  the  lad  allowed 
those  who  had  left  him  fish-bones  to  occupy  their  houses  and  live  there 
as  usual;  but  the  others  he  transformed  into  "  water-mysteries,"  and 
threw  them  into  a  canyon  and  waterfall  in  Cayuse  Creek,  where  they 
inhabit  the  rocks,  but  are  invisible.     Indians  go  there  to  train. - 

The  Nkait  people,  hearing  of  his  fame,  sent  one  of  their  daughters 
to  be  his  wife;  and  several  people,  both  at  Skimka'in  and  Nkait,  are 
descended  from  him.  He  went  to  Nkait,  and  showed  the  people  there 
how  to  make  and  use  fish-traps,  and  then  returned  home  again.  After 
this  the  people  could  not  look  at  the  Sun,  who  obtained  so  much 
brightness  by  wearing  Nke'olstem's  magpie  blanket. 

42.  {b)  NK't'oLST^M,  OR  nq^'qaumstem'  uyi^  {second  versiofi) 
The  people  of  Seaton  Lake  are  descended  partly  from  Fraser  River 
Lillooet  belonging  to  SctL,  and  partly  from  Nk'e'olstem.  The  latter 
was  the  son  of  a  chief  who  lived  near  Sqemqa'in,  and  was  deserted  by 
the  people.  He  and  his  old  grandmother  made  four  large  robes  of 
mouse,  rat,  bluejay,  and  magpie  skins  respectively.     At  that  time  the 

•  The  kind  of  fish-trap  called  by  the  Thompson  pi'px'p. 
'  See  also  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  711. 

•  The  former  name  is  used  by  the  Lillooet ;  the  latter,  by  the  Thompson. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     355 

sun  travelled  overhead  in  the  sky  every  day,  as  now,  but  it  was  invisible. 
Nevertheless  it  gave  out  far  greater  heat  than  at  the  present  day:  so 
the  people  sweated  very  much,  and  felt  almost  as  if  boiled  in  the  day- 
time. It  was  hot  like  this  all  the  >ear  round.  One  day  Nk'e'olstem 
had  his  four  blankets  spread  outside,  and  was  sitting  by  them,  when 
he  saw  a  man  descend  from  the  sky,  who  approached  him,  and  said, 
"  I  am  the  Sun,  and  each  day  as  I  travel  I  see  your  robes  and  admire 
thcni.  I  wish  to  exchange  my  robe  for  one  of  them.  If  you  will  give 
me  >()ur  beautiful  robe,  I  will  teach  you  many  things."  The  lad  said, 
"  Perhaps,  if  I  give  you  my  robe,  you  will  be  hotter  than  ever,  and  the 
people  will  all  die."  The  Sun  answered,  "  No!  it  will  make  me  bright, 
so  that  you  can  see  me  ever>'  day;  but  my  heat  will  not  be  able 
to  come  out  so  much  as  through  the  robe  I  am  wearing,  therefore  the 
people  will  be  cooler."  The  lad  said,  "  Very  well,  if  you  promise  to  be 
brighter  and  cooler,  getting  only  moderately  hot  during  the  summer, 
and  remaining  cool  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  you  may  take  two  of 
my  robes  in  exchange  for  your  one."  The  Sun  handed  the  lad  his  robe, 
which  was  made  of  mountain-goat  wool,  with  long  fringe,  and  told  him 
to  dip  the  fringe  of  it  four  times  into  the  lake,  and  each  time  fish  of  a 
certain  variety  would  become  very  numerous.  Then  he  told  him  how 
to  make  a  picture  of  a  fish-trap  in  the  ground  by  scratching  with  his 
feet,  and  it  would  change  into  a  real  fish-trap  with  which  he  could 
catch  the  fish  he  created.  He  also  told  him  to  draw  with  his  toes  on 
the  sand  a  picture  of  a  fish-spear  and  a  net,  which  would  also  change 
into  real  ones.  After  telling  him  how  to  use  these  things,  he  selected 
the  bluejay  and  magpie  robes  of  the  lad,  and  ascended  to  the  sky. 
Now  the  Sun  began  to  wear  the  magpie  robe,  and  the  people  could  see 
him  quite  plainly.  Although  it  was  summer-time,  the  heat  from  the 
Sun  was  much  less  than  formerly.  When  winter-time  came,  the  Sun 
began  to  wear  both  the  robes,  and  tlie  heat  he  emanated  became  still 
less.  Since  then,  the  Sun  has  worn  these  robes;  and  the  people  are 
not  now  ovcrpowerefl  with  the  heat,  and  ever  since  have  had  moder- 
ately warm  summers  and  cool  winters.  After  the  Sun's  ilepariure, 
Nk'e'olstem  did  as  he  had  been  directed,  and  created  four  fish-traps, 
one  for  each  kind  of  fish.  He  also  created  spears  and  nets,  and  caught 
great  numbers  of  fish.  Thus  were  the  first  fish-traps,  fish-spears, 
and  fish-nets  made,  and  four  new  varieties  of  fish  were  added  to  the 
waters  of  the  lake.  After  this  the  [)e()|)le  who  had  deserted  the  lad 
returned,  and  they  gave  him  two  of  their  daughters  for  wives.  Even- 
tually the  transformers  Qwo'cjlqwatL  came  along,  and,  thinking  the 
people  of  that  place  were  bad,  they  commenced  to  metamorphose 
them  into  stones,  and  succeeded  thus  in  killing  all  the  people,  with 
the  exception  of  the  lad  and  his  two  wives.  Nke'olstOm  wrapped  the 
Sun's  magic  robe  around  himself  and  his  wives,  and  the  transformers 


356  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

could  not  harm  him.  He  had  many  children.  Afterwards  a  number  of 
the  peo[ile  from  SetL  came  and  settled  there,  and  the  two  peoples  inter- 
married and  became  numerous.  Nke'olstCm  changed  his  name  to 
Xana'ukst,  and  became  the  chief  of  the  band,  and  noted  for  his  wealth. 
The  original  Seaton  Lake  people  are  thus  descended  partly  from 
SetL  Indians,  and  partly  from  the  ancients  Xana'ukst  and  his  wives. 
The  Sqemqa'in  (Skimqain)  people  look  upon  him  as  their  ancestor. 

43.  (a)  raven;  or,  how  death  came  into  the  world ^ 
Raven*  was  once  a  chief  of  great  power,  and  very  wise.  At  that 
time  people  did  not  die.  One  day  a  man  ^  came  to  Raven,  and  said, 
"  I  am  not  satisfied  with  the  existing  order  of  things.  Let  people 
die,  so  we  may  weep,  and  then  we  shall  be  happy."*  Raven  said, 
"  Very  well,  if  the  people  wish  to  die,  it  shall  be  so."  ^ 

The  man  went  away,  and  shortly  afterward  his  child  died.  He  was 
sorr>',  and,  instead  of  rejoicing  when  he  wept,  he  felt  sad  and  miserable. 
He  said,  "  What  a  fool  I  was  to  tell  Raven  to  make  people  die!  "  He 
went  back,  and  asked  Raven  to  stop  people  from  dying;  but  Raven 
answered,  "  It  is  too  late.  You  asked  for  that,  and  I  made  it  so.  I 
cannot  change  the  order  of  things  now.  People  shall  henceforth 
continue  to  die."  This  is  the  reason  that  all  people  die.  Afterward 
Raven  was  transformed  into  the  bird  of  that  name,  because  he  intro- 
duced death  into  the  world. 

43.  {h)  raven  and  old-one,  or  chief 
After  Raven  had  vanquished  the  Chief,  or  Old-One,  and  it  was 
decreed  that  people  and  all  things  should  die.  Raven's  child  died.* 
This  was  the  first  death  in  the  world.  Hitherto  people  had  died  only 
for  a  time,  and  their  bodies  during  death  never  changed.  Raven  tried 
to  revive  and  doctor  the  child  into  life  again,  but  utterly  failed.  At 
last  he  went  to  the  Chief  and  said,  "  My  child  is  really  dead.  Its 
body  is  changing,  and  the  flesh  is  getting  rotten,  so  that  it  smells. 
I  wish  I  had  not  agreed  to  people's  dying."  The  Chief  answered, 
"  Now  you  see  how  nasty  a  thing  death  is,  and  how  sore  your  heart 
gets  when  your  friends  die;  but  it  is  too  late  to  change.  It  has  been 
agreed  that  henceforth  everything  must  die,  and,  as  the  first  death 

>  This  widely  spread  theme  is  not  very  common  on  the  North  Pacific  coast  (see  Teit, 
Mythology,  p.  329  [Nicola]). 

»  Raven,  it  is  said  by  some,  was  at  that  time  looking  after  the  world,  and  seeing  that 
everything  ran  smoothly.  He  had  to  see  that  nature  worked  properly,  and  had  the  power 
to  improve  things  when  necessary. 

•  Some  say  a  chief;  others,  "  The  Old-One." 

«  Some  say  he  said,  "How  would  it  be  if  people  were  made  to  die?" 

•  Some  say  he  answered,  "If  they  die,  I  shall  be  glad." 

•  This  refers  to  the  beginning  of  the  Lfixal^'xamu-j  version,  given  here  as  No.  43  (a). 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     357 

has  taken  place,  it  cannot  now  be  avoided."  Raven,  in  his  sorrow, 
took  an  arrow-stone  and  hit  himself  with  it.  He  was  surprised  to  find 
that  it  cut  his  flesh,  and  blood  ran  out.  He  thought  to  himself, 
"  This  stone  is  mystery,  and  can  kill  people.  I  will  try  it."  He  stuck 
it  on  the  end  of  a  stick  and  struck  a  man,  who  died  of  the  wounds. 
Thus  Raven  first  discovered  that  arrow-stone  could  kill ;  and  the 
people  learned  to  make  it  into  knives  and  arrow-heads.  Raven 
was  the  first  person  who  made  a  spear,  and  became  a  murderer. 
Some  say  he  did  not  kill  any  one  with  the  arrow-stone,  but,  seeing  that 
the  sharp  parts  of  the  stone  drew  blood,  he  sharpened  it  with  his 
beak,  and  cut  himself  more  and  more,  in  his  sorrow,  until  at  last  he 
lost  all  his  blood,  and  died.  Thus  he  was  the  first  person  in  the  world 
who  committed  suicide. 

44.    ORIGIN   OF   BANDS  OF  NORTHERxN   SHUSWAP  '  LIVING   NEXT  TO   THE 
LILLOOET   OF   ERASER    RIVER 

The  neighboring  Shuswap  to  the  north  (those  of  Fraser  River),  or  at 
least  part  of  them,  are  said  to  have  originated  from  a  man  called 
Coyote,  who  lived  somewhere  north  of  Clinton.  He  lived  alone  in  an 
underground  house,  and  had  for  a  wife  the  branch  of  a  tree  with  a 
knot-hole  in  it.  Whenever  he  went  out  hunting,  he  covered  the 
branch  with  a  robe.'^ 

One  day  the  four  Black-Bear  brothers  came  along  and  entered  the 
house.  As  it  was  cold  weather,  they  looked  around  for  fire- wood, 
saw  the  branch,  made  a  fire  with  it  to  warm  themselves,  and  afterwards 
fell  asleep.  They  were  awakened  by  a  voice  calling  from  the  top  of 
the  ladder.  They  hid  themselves.  It  was  Coyote,  who  was  crying, 
"Wife,  take  my  load  of  meat!"  Then  he  answered  himself  in  a 
louder,  shriller  voice,  saying,  "Let  your  pack  fall."  He  said,  "You 
are  a  lazy  wife.  W^hy  don't  you  take  down  my  burden?  "  Then, 
answering  himself  again,  he  exclaimed,  "  Just  drop  it  down!  There  is 
no  need  of  my  getting  up."  The  brothers  smiled  when  they  heard 
him  talking  thus. 

Coyote  let  the  pack  of  meat  drop  down.  Wiicn  he  was  inside,  he 
noticed  that  the  branch  was  not  in  the  bed,  and,  looking  at  the  fire, 
saw  it  there  nearly  burned  out.  He  said,  "Oh!  my  wife  has  been 
tr>'ing  to  go  up  the  ladder,  and  has  fallen  back  into  the  fire."  And  he 
began  to  weep.  The  brothers  appeared,  and  tried  to  comfort  him, 
saying,  "  We  did  not  know  it  was  your  wife,  so  we  burned  the  braiuji; 
but  do  not  be  sorry!  We  will  give  you  a  better  wife."  They  asked 
for  an  arrow-stone  adze,  went  to  a  grove  of  trees  near  by,  and  cut  down 

>  Some  say  all  the  Shuswap  originated  in  this  way.  .S<t:  Tcit,  Traditions,  p.  .44;  Tcit. 
The  Shuswap.  p.  652, 

•  Sec  footnote  to  p.  309. 


358  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

two  of  them,  —  one  an  alder,  and  one  a  cottonwood  or  aspen-poplar. 
After  shaping  them  to  resemble  women,  they  carried  them  to  the 
house.  They  blew  breath  into  them,  and  the  figures  began  to  breathe, 
became  alive,  and  followed  the  brothers  into  the  house.  They 
presented  them  to  Coyote,  saying,  "  These  shall  be  your  wives." 
Coyote  blessed  the  brothers,  and  called  them  good.  They  said, 
"  One  of  these  women  has  red  skin,  and  the  other  white  skin;  and  one 
has  light  hair,  and  the  other  has  dark  hair:  therefore  some  of  your 
wives'  children  will  be  dark,  and  some  light. ^  Your  wives  will  have 
many  children;  and  your  descendants  will  be  numerous,  and  occupy 
a  large  country.  They  will  all  speak  Shuswap."  This  is  the  reason 
why  the  Shuswap-speaking  people  occupy  a  large  expanse  of  country. 

45.  porcupine;  or,  the  story  of  deer^ 
All  the  lesser  animals  lived  in  human  form  in  four  underground  houses 
near  the  place  called  "  The  Lake,"  at  the  portage  between  Seaton  and 
Anderson  Lakes.  There  were  among  them  Wolf,  Fox,  Coyote,  Lynx, 
Marten,  Fisher,  Wolverene,  Porcupine,  and  many  others.  At  that 
time  deer  were  very  wild,  and  could  jump  from  one  mountain-peak 
to  another  at  a  single  bound;  therefore  it  was  impossible  for  the 
people  to  hunt  them.  They  lived  on  the  north  side  of  the  mountains 
which  separated  the  lakes  from  the  Upper  Bridge  River,  and  beyond 
as  far  as  the  Chilcotin  River.  This  region  was  called  the  Deer  Coun- 
try; and  the  Deer  people  lived  in  four  underground  houses  just  north 
of  the  mountains.  They  were  Mule-Deer,  Elk,  Caribou,  Bighorn- 
Sheep,  Mountain-Goat,  Horse,  and  some  others.' 

At  that  time  snowshoes  were  not  known.  The  snow  lay  very  deep 
on  the  mountains  which  separated  the  two  peoples,  for  it  was  winter- 
time. The  chief  of  the  animal  people  said  it  would  be  advisable  to 
ask  the  Deer  people  to  a  feast,  and  try  to  take  away  from  them  the 
power  of  jumping.  They  asked  Coyote  to  go  and  invite  the  Deer 
people;  but  he  returned  at  evening,  not  having  been  able  to  walk 
through  the  deep  snow.  One  animal  after  another  tried,  but  they  all 
failed;  and  as  a  last  resort  Porcupine  was  asked  to  go.  Coyote,  his 
sons,  and  some  others,  laughed  at  the  idea  of  Porcupine  going,  and 
said,  "  Mow  can  a  person  with  such  short  legs  and  big  belly  go  where 
we  couldn't?  "  Porcupine  took  his  shirt,  leggings,  cap,  moccasins, 
and  belt  (all  of  which  were  richly  embroidered  with  dentalia),  and  his 

*  This  is  why  Indians  in  general,  and  Shuswap  in  particular,  have  different  shades  of 
hair  and  skin.  Some  Shuswap  are  very  light-skinned,  and  others  are  very  dark  or  red 
skinned  (see  Teit,  Mythology,  p.  313,  where  the  explanation  is  given  that  the  Indians 
are  the  children  of  Antelope  and  Coyote,  and  have  therefore  the  colors  of  their  parents). 

*  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  51.  Some  Lillooet  consider  all  the  Athapascan  tribes  as 
descendants  of  the  deer  or  of  the  deer  people. 

*  Some  add  moose,  buffalo,  antelope,  and  another  variety  of  small  deer. 


Traditiofis  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     359 

dentalia  necklaces,  and  rolled  them  all  up  in  a  bundle,  which  he  put 
on  his  back.  He  said,  "  If  we  want  to  get  these  people  here,  we  must 
make  a  rich  display.  If  I  manage  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  range,  I 
shall  light  a  signal-fire,  so  that  you  may  know  of  my  arrival." 

He  went  under  the  snow,  instead  of  on  the  top,  and  at  last  reached 
the  summit,  where  he  lighted  a  fire,  as  he  had  promised.  The  following 
evening  he  reached  the  houses  of  the  Deer  people.  On  the  side-hill 
above  their  houses  he  put  on  his  fine  clothes.  The  people  cried  out, 
"  A  stranger  is  coming,  wearing  beautiful  clothes!  "  He  was  invited 
in,  and  as  he  descended  the  ladder,  and  jumped  down  at  the  bottom, 
dentalia  fell  from  his  clothes.  Whenever  he  moved  his  arm,  leg,  or 
head,  dentalia  fell  down,  and  the  children  gathered  them  up.  The 
people  gave  him  venison  to  eat,  and  asked  him  why  he  had  come  to  visit 
them.  He  said,  "  I  have  been  sent  to  invite  you  to  the  houses  of  my 
people  to  a  feast."  They  at  once  answered,  "  We  will  start  in  the 
morning."  They  thought  all  the  messenger's  people  must  be  like 
him,  or  even  more  richly  dressed  than  he,  and  they  would  probably 
receive  rich  presents  from  them.  They  did  not  know  that  Porcupine 
was  the  only  one  of  his  people  who  possessed  dentalia. 

On  the  next  morning  Porcupine  led  the  way,  and  all  the  Deer  people 
followed.  When  the  animal  people  saw  them  coming,  they  hastened 
and  spread  mats  for  them  to  walk  on  to  the  house,  and  others  for 
them  to  sit  on.  They  feasted  them  first,  and  afterward  gave  them 
presents.  They  gave  each  one  a  present  of  some  article  of  a  pubescent 
girl's  clothing  or  paraphernalia.  One  was  given  a  robe ;  one,  an  apron; 
another,  paint;  another,  a  scratcher;  and  so  on.  After  all  the  presents 
had  been  giv^en  out,  the  people  cried  out,  "  You  have  forgotten  Goat!  " 
The  animal  people  had  nothing  to  give  him,  so  they  made  two  small 
sticks  of  vine-maple,  sharp  at  the  ends,'  and  threw  them  at  his  head, 
where  they  stuck,  and  became  horns.  Again  the  people  cried  out, 
"  You  have  forgotten  another  person,  —  Horse!  "  The  animal  people 
had  nothing  to  give  him,  so  they  threw  a  woman's  privates  at  his 
legs,  and  thus  he  obtained  the  peculiar  fetlocks  he  lias  at  the  present 
day. 

The  Deer  people  took  their  presents,  and  went  away  disapj^ointed. 
They  found  themselves  heavy,  and  no  longer  able  to  jump  as  before. 
This  was  because  of  the  pubescent  girl's  clothes.  When  they  arrived 
at  the  summit  of  tlie  mountain-range,  they  were  all  transformed 
into  deer,  sheep,  and  goats,  and  scattered  through  the  mountains,^ 
as  we  see  them  at  the  present  day.  The  things  they  received  as 
presents  may  be  found  in  their  bodies;'  and  because  they  inhabit rd  the 

*  Some  add  that  they  Ijiarkciicd  ilu m  witli  pitch-smoke  or  soot. 

*  Sfjme  say  over  the  worltl. 

*  Part  of  the  inside  of  a  deer  is  called  tlie  "paint;"  another  part  is  called  the  "apron" 
or  "kilt,"  because  supposed  to  resemble  in  shape  these  objects. 


360  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

country  around  l^ppcr  Bridge  River,  and  north  to  the  Chilcotin  River, 
therefore  deer  are  more  numerous  there  than  in  any  other  place,  and 
goats  and  sheep  are  also  plentiful.' 

46.     THE    MAN    WHO   LIVED    WITH    THE    BEAR 

A  man  lived  at  the  mouth  of  Bridge  River  who  had  a  wife  and  three 
children.  He  always  went  hunting  with  the  other  hunters;  but,  as  he 
was  never  able  to  kill  anything,  the  other  men,  when  dividing  the 
game,  never  gave  him  any  share.  The  people  were  camped  in  mat 
lodges. 

One  evening,  when  the  father  was  away,  the  children  began  to  cry 
for  meat;  and  their  mother  said  in  a  sarcastic  manner,  "When  your 
father  comes  home,  you  will  have  lots  of  fat  to  eat."  Her  husband  was 
near  by,  on  his  way  home,  and  heard  what  she  said.  He  felt  so 
ashamed,  that  he  turned  back  and  went  up  to  a  place  in  the  mountains 
called  Npaa'nk,^  where  there  are  bare,  burnt  hillsides  and  blufTs  of 
rock,  with  a  small  lake  on  the  top.  Here  he  slept.  Next  morning 
early  he  travelled  in  an  aimless  manner  toward  the  lake,  saying  to 
himself,  "I  will  wander  around  until  I  die." 

When  near  the  lake,  he  saw  a  male  black  bear  sitting  in  front  of  him. 
He  went  toward  it,  but  never  attempted  to  shoot  it,  although  his 
quiver  was  full  of  arrows.  Bear  said  to  him,  "  Come,  friend!  I  am 
glad  you  do  not  try  to  shoot  me.  I  know  how  the  people  have  treated 
you,  and  the  bad  luck  you  have  had  in  hunting.  If  you  come  with  me 
and  do  as  I  direct,  I  will  teach  you,  and  you  will  become  very  wise." 

It  was  the  fall  of  the  year;  and  Bear  went  into  his  den,  taking  the 
hunter  with  him.  It  was  a  large  cave,  in  one  end  of  which  Bear 
defecated  and  urinated.  In  another  place  there  was  a  small  pool  of 
water,  at  which  he  wet  his  lips.  Bear  said,  "  I  am  going  to  stay  here 
all  winter,  and  I  wish  you  to  remain  with  me."  The  hunter  looked 
around,  and,  seeing  no  food,  said  to  himself,  "  I  wonder  what  we  shall 
eat!  "  Bear  knew  his  thoughts,  and  said,  "  You  need  not  think  of 
that.  I  will  provide  food  for  both  of  us."  Now  Bear  gathered  fir- 
branches,  and  made  a  bed;  and  the  man  did  likewise.  Then  Bear 
closed  the  entrance  to  the  den,  and  said  to  the  man,  "  You  will  sleep 
in  that  corner,  and  I  will  sleep  here.  Take  off  your  clothes  and  lie 
down.  It  is  now  dark,  and  we  will  go  to  sleep."  The  hunter  divested 
himself  of  his  weapons  and  clothes,  and  lay  down.  He  felt  quite  warm, 
for  there  was  no  draught,  and  the  breath  of  the  Bear  kept  the  place 
warm.     Bear  said,  "  I  will  wake  you  when  it  is  time  to  eat."     At  the 

•  It  is  said  that  some  of  the  people  around  the  portage  —  namely,  the  head  of  Seaton 
Lake  and  the  foot  of  Anderson  Lake  —  claimed  descent  from  the  animal  people  who  used 
to  live  there,  and,  when  dancing,  wore  masks  representing  deer  and  porcupine.  They 
also  wore  many  necklaces  of  dentalia,  and  deer-skin  robes. 

»  Means  "burnt"  or  "gray  side-hill." 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     361 

end  of  one  month,  Bear  wakened  him,  and  gave  him  one  paw  to  suck, 
while  he  himself  sucked  the  other.  Thus  Bear  wakened  and  fed  him 
at  the  end  of  each  month  for  four  months. 

Now  it  was  spring-time;  and  Bear,  opening  the  den,  gave  the  man  his 
bow  and  arrows,  and  bade  him  good-by.  Taking  four  of  his  arrows, 
he  fixed  them  so  that  they  became  different,'  and  said,  "  Take  care  of 
these!  If  you  shoot  them  at  game,  they  will  always  kill.  Never  try 
to  shoot  any  black  bear.  No  shaman  will  ever  be  able  to  bewitch 
you,  or  take  away  your  luck.  You  will  be  lucky,  and  kill  all  kinds 
of  game,  and  will  never  be  hungry.  You  will  be  a  great  hunter. 
Don't  give  the  people  anything  you  kill  at  first."  Then  he  told  him 
where  to  find  deer;  and  the  man  did  as  directed,  and  shot  a  buck,  which 
he  carried  home  on  his  back. 

Coming  to  where  the  people  were  camped,  he  passed  by  above  them, 
and  went  to  his  wife's  house.  She  had  cut  her  hair  as  a  sign  of  widow- 
hood. He  ate  the  meat  with  his  family.  The  people  came  to  see  him, 
but  he  would  not  give  them  any  meat  to  eat.  They  were  angry,  and 
said,  "  He  has  been  out  five  months,  and  only  killed  one  deer:  it  is 
well  if  he  eats  it  all  himself." 

Again  the  man  went  hunting,  gathered  the  deer  all  in  one  place,  and 
shot  forty.  He  took  home  a  piece  of  one.  The  people  said,  "  The 
poor  fellow  has  killed  another  deer."  They  went  out  hunting;  but 
each  time  they  returned  without  seeing  any  deer,  and  feeling  very 
tired.  Then  an  old  man  said  to  the  others,  "  He  has  learned  the 
'  mystery  '  of  the  deer:  talk  nicely  to  him,  and  he  may  give  us  meat." 
Now  he  asked  the  people  to  go  and  carry  in  the  deer.  They  laughed, 
and  said,  "  It  docs  not  require  us  all  to  carry  in  one  deer."  At  last, 
however,  they  all  went,  and  were  surprised  to  see  so  many  dead  deer. 
It  took  them  all  of  one  day  to  skin  and  cut  up  the  carcass,  and  all  of 
the  next  day  to  carry  home  the  meat.  The  man  became  the  most 
famous  hunter  of  the  tribe. '^ 

47.     OKKilN    OF   THE    LILLOOET   AND    BRIDGE    RIVER   PEOPLE* 

Formerly  there  were  no  people  who  lived  at  Bridge  River  and  the 
Fountain;  but  a  number  of  people  lived  near  a  spring  close  to  where 
the  present  Indian  village  of  Lillooet  is  situated.''  They  were  Lillooet, 
and  lived  principally  on  deer-meat.  Lower  down,  between  them  and 
the  Fraser  River,  at  another  spring  where  white  pcfjpic  an-  li\  irig  now, 

'  Some  say  he  simply  made  them  lucky. 

•  A  few  of  the  people  at  BriclRe  River,  his  (leseendaiits.  used  to  wear  the  mask  of  the 
black  bear  at  dances.     They  are  proliahly  now  extinct. 

»  Callfd,  respectively,  Se'ti.amux  and  Nxo'istKnamux  (from  Sv-ti..  the  name  of  Lillooet; 
and  Nxo'isten,  the  name  of  Bridse  River).  They  are  Sta'tLemux  or  Si.atLemux-o'l. 
Compare  this  story  with  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  96  (Lillooet). 

*  Scti^ 


362  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

dwelt  other  people  who  were  called  Frog-Mouths  (Pape'latcin)  because 
they  ate  frogs.  They  lived  all  together  in  an  underground  house,  and 
never  held  any  intercourse  with  the  people  who  lived  above  them. 
They  subsisted  principally  on  frog-flesh;  but  they  also  ate  snakes, 
lizards,  and  all  kinds  of  reptiles. 

In  those  days  the  frogs  and  toads  were  as  large  as  buffaloes;  and  the 
Frog  people  called  them,  "  the  animal,"  in  the  same  way  as  the  Indians 
of  the  present  day  designate  the  grizzly  bear.  These  people  made 
all  their  clothes  and  blankets  of  frog  and  toad  skins.  Their  dress 
consisted  of  shoes,  breech-clout,  and  robe.  They  hunted  the  frogs 
with  spears  similar  to  beaver-spears,  and  carried  home  the  meat  at 
night.' 

Among  these  people  were  two  marriageable  girls  whom  the  young 
men  of  SetL  were  very  anxious  to  marry.  The  young  men  repaired  to 
the  underground  house  to  obtain  the  girls;  but  each  one,  in  turn,  was 
overcome  by  the  smell  of  frog-fat  when  the  people  cooked,  and  died 
inside  the  house.  Their  bodies  were  carried  out,  and  left  on  a  bench 
near  by.  Thus  all  the  young  men  of  SetL  met  their  death ;  and  their 
bones  whitened  the  bench  near  the  house  of  the  Frog-Eaters. 

Only  one  young  man  was  left,  and  he  repaired  to  the  mountains  to 
train  himself.  He  took  the  back-fat  of  four  deer  with  him,  and  lived 
on  that  during  the  four  years  he  was  away  training.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  he  had  learned  all  the  "  mystery  "  of  water,  lake,  swamp, 
mud,  spring,  and  river.  He  had  also  learned  all  the  "  mystery  "  of  the 
animals  that  inhabited  or  lived  near  them,  such  as  frogs,  snakes, 
and  lizards.  He  could  eat  all  these  animals,  and  their  flesh  did  not 
harm  him.  Being  complete  in  all  the  magic  required  for  his  purpose, 
he  returned  home,  and  told  the  people  he  intended  to  go  and  obtain 
the  daughters  of  the  Frog-Eaters.  The  people  said,  "  Don't  go!  You 
are  sure  to  be  killed,  and  you  are  the  only  young  man  we  have  left." 
After  swallowing  arrows,  snowshoes,  and  a  dog,  he  went  to  the  Frog- 
Eaters'  house,  clad  only  in  breech-clout  and  leggings.  A  Frog-Man 
was  sitting  at  the  ladder,  striking  one  foot  against  the  other,  and,  seeing 
him  coming,  he  said,  "  All  your  friends  have  died  by  coming  here. 
Don't  you  see  their  bones  on  the  bench?  Why  do  you  court  death? 
Have  you  had  no  lesson?  "  The  lad  answered,  "  I  wish  to  obtain  your 
two  daughters,  and  am  prepared  to  die."  The  man  struck  him  on  the 
legs  as  he  went  down  the  ladder,  but  he  paid  no  attention.  Reaching 
the  bottom,  he  went  aside,  and  sat  down  with  his  back  to  the  wall. 
The  people  were  all  lying  down;  but  when  he  entered  they  said, 
"  Cook  some  meat:  we  have  not  eaten  since  morning."  Then  they 
began  to  boil  and  roast  frog-meat,  and  the  smoke  from  the  fat  filled 
the  house.     The  people  ate,  and,  when  the  smoke  cleared  away,  they 

'  Some  say  they  also  hunted  at  night. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     363 

saw  him  sitting  in  the  same  place.  They  said  to  one  another,  "  He 
does  not  die  as  quickly  as  the  others  did."  After  a  while,  the  people 
said,  "  We  will  cook  again;"  and  this  time  they  roasted  the  intestines 
and  inside  parts  of  the  frog.  The  house  became  so  filled  with  smoke 
from  the  burning  fat,  that  the  people  could  not  see  one  another.  When 
it  cleared  away,  the  lad  still  sat  alive,  and  the  people  wondered.  When 
they  went  to  sleep,  their  chief  said,  "  The  lad  has  vanquished  us,  and 
seems  to  be  able  to  live  with  us.  He  may  have  our  daughters."  He 
staid  with  his  wives  that  night,  and  they  covered  him  with  a  frog-skin 
blanket,  which  smelled  horribly. 

On  the  next  day  the  people  said,  "  Let  us  hunt!  We  are  nearly  out 
of  food."  They  all  went  and  hunted  over  the  mountains  back  of 
Lillooet,  returning  by  the  mouth  of  Bridge  River,  without  seeing  any 
game,  for  the  lad  made  all  the  frogs  leave  their  usual  haunts.  The 
people  all  returned  home,  the  lad  being  the  last  one,  and  some  distance 
behind.  He  felt  thirsty,  went  to  a  spring  called  Kclamu'lax,  and, 
although  knec-dcep  in  mud,  he  drank,  pushing  aside  the  dead  leaves 
which  covered  the  surface  of  the  water.  To  his  surprise,  he  beheld  a 
huge  frog  looking  at  him.  It  was  nearly  concealed  by  the  dead  leaves, 
water,  and  mud.  It  was  early  winter,  and  the  frog  had  probably 
gone  into  his  winter  quarters.  The  lad  said,  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  >ou," 
and  drank  his  fill  of  the  water.  Then  he  hurried  home  to  the  house, 
as  it  was  getting  late. 

He  was  wearing  frog-skin  shoes,  and  his  legs  were  all  covered  with 
mud.  When  he  entered,  the  people  noticed  the  mud,  and  said,  "  Our 
son-in-law  must  have  found  a  frog!  He  is  a  great  hunter."  His 
wives  pulled  off  his  shoes  and  leggings,  and  hung  them  up  to  dry. 
He  told  them  where  he  had  seen  the  frog,  and  they  said,  "  We  will  go 
to-night  and  kill  it."  They  all  went  to  the  place,  and,  after  spearing 
the  frog  and  killing  it,  they  began  to  roast  the  meat.  The  place  where 
they  had  their  fire  and  roasted  their  meat  may  still  be  seen  near  the 
mouth  of  Bridge  River.  Then  they  carried  the  meat  home,  and  ate 
again  when  tlu\-  reached  there. 

The  lad  did  not  eat  an\'  frog-meat.  He  told  his  wi\'es  he  was  going 
to  hunt,  and  bring  in  a  different  kind  of  meat  to  eat.  ICarly  next 
morning  he  wi-iit  out,  and  vomited  the  dog  he  had  swallowed,  sending 
him  to  round  up  dec  r.  Then  he  vomited  his  snowshoes  and  bow  and 
arrows,  and  put  tlu-  snowshoes  on,  chased  the  deer  into  a  gulch,  and 
shot  them  all.  He  cut  up  one,  tcjok  some  of  the  meat  home,  and, 
when  he-  found  his  wives  out  washing  themselves,  he  jK-rsuaded  them 
to  eat  some.  They  thought  they  would  die;  but  after  waiting  a  long 
time,  and  finding  no  bad  effects  from  (he  meat,  the\-  were  glad. 

The  lad  said,  "  I  will  c  hange  the  food  of  your  people  to-morrow." 
He  brought  some  deer-meat  to  the  house  the  next  da\',  but  (he  people 


364  Journal  of  American  Folk -Lore 

were  afraid  to  eat  it.  On  the  fourth  morning  he  went  to  the  gulch, 
roasted  the  whole  carcass  of  a  deer,  and  brought  it  to  the  house  and 
dropped  it  down  the  hole.  The  people  were  afraid  of  such  a  mysterious 
object.  He  told  them,  "  You  must  eat  this  meat,  and  I  will  eat  with 
you.  It  is  good,  and  will  not  harm  you.  I  shall  transform  any  one  who 
does  not  eat  of  it."  The  people  at  last  ate  of  the  meat,  and,  finding 
that  they  did  not  die,  they  declared  it  to  be  good  food.  Three  of 
them  would  not  eat  of  the  meat. 

Then  he  sent  his  wives  and  all  the  people  to  bring  in  the  deer  from 
the  gulch.  When  they  had  left,  he  took  all  their  clothes,  blankets, 
skins,  and  meat  of  frogs  outside  the  house,  and  burned  them.  When 
the  people  returned,  he  said,  "  You  are  already  in  my  power,  and  I 
can  do  with  you  as  I  like.  Having  eaten  of  venison,  you  are  now  like 
my  own  people."  He  told  them  to  strip  naked,  and  burned  all  their 
frog  clothes.  Then  he  showed  them  how  to  tan  the  skins  of  the  deer 
they  had  brought  home,  and  make  themselves  deer-skin  clothes. 

When  they  were  all  clothed,  he  told  them  to  sit  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  bench  where  the  skeletons  were,  and  watch  what  he  would  do  with 
them.  He  said,  "  You  killed  these  people:  now  I  will  make  them 
alive."  He  jumped  over  the  skeletons,  one  after  another,  and  imme- 
diately each  one  became  alive.  They  stood  up,  and  he  ordered  them 
to  walk  around  and  mix  with  the  Frog  people.  Then  he  transformed 
into  "  water-mysteries  "  the  three  Frog- Eaters  who  would  not  eat 
venison,  and  threw  them  into  a  creek  near  by,  saying,  "  You  shall 
remain  there  as  '  water-mysteries,'  and  shall  howl  like  dogs.  If  a 
person  happens  to  see  you,  you  may  do  them  harm,  if  their  time  has 
come  to  die."^  Then  he  conducted  all  the  Frog-Eaters  up  to  SetL, 
where  they  lived  thenceforth,  and  the  two  peoples  intermarried. 

After  they  had  amalgamated,  some  of  the  people  moved,  and  settled 
at  the  mouth  of  Bridge  River:  therefore  the  Bridge  River  and  SetL 
or  Lillooet  people  are  the  same.  Many  of  them  claim  descent  from 
the  Frog-Eaters  and  their  ancestor  who  changed  the  Frog-Eaters. 
The  other  Lillooet  nickname  them  "  Frog  people,"  or  "  Frog-Mouths," 
because  of  their  origin  and  ancestry.  They  used  to  impersonate  their 
ancestor  at  feasts  and  potlatches,  and  wore  masks  resembling  frogs. 

48.     ORIGIN   OF   THE    SKIMQAI'n    PEOPLE  ^ 

The  earliest  known  inhabitants  of  Skimqai'n  were  two  families  who 
lived  some  distance  apart.  The  head  of  one  family  was  a  man  called 
Xana'ukst,  who  had  many  wives  and  a  large  number  of  sons.     He  was 

'  The  sight  may  cause  them  to  die. 

'  Called  Skimqai'nEmux.  from  Skimqai'n  ("head"  or  "top"),  the  name  of  the  lower 
end  of  Seaton  Lake,  so  named  because  the  river  emerges  from  the  lake  here:  consequently 
it  is  the  head  or  top  of  the  river.  They  belong  to  the  division  called  LSxale'xamux.  Com- 
pare part  of  this  story  with  p.  338. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     365 

very  wealthy,  and  lived  exactly  at  the  spot  called  Skimqai'n.  The 
other  family  lived  at  the  place  known  as  SLaka'l,  and  their  head  was 
a  man  called  Twisted  (Uipst),  who  had  a  twisted  jaw.  These  two 
families  were  the  original  inhabitants,  and  were  kin  to  one  another. 

On  the  far  side  of  a  lake  called  Stoq,  situated  a  considerable  distance 
away,  lived  a  different  people,'  who  were  related  to  one  another. 
They  occupied  two  underground  houses.  The  chief  of  one  was  by 
name  Zeniixha';  and  his  elder  brother,  whose  name  was  Nkaliixha',' 
was  chief  of  the  other.  These  people  were  endowed  with  magic,  and 
Nkaliixha'  was  a  wicked  man  and  a  cannibal.  His  brother  Zeniixha' 
had  two  daughters,  who  were  good-looking  young  women;  and  Xana'- 
ukst's  sons  had,  one  by  one,  gone  to  woo  them:  but  each  in  turn  had 
made  the  mistake  of  going  to  Nkaluxha"s  house,  and  had  been  eaten 
by  him  and  his  household.  Thus  all  of  Xana'ukst's  sons  had  perished, 
except  one,  who  grew  very  restless  because  his  brothers  did  not  return, 
and  asked  his  father  what  had  become  of  them.  His  father  told  him 
they  had  been  eaten  by  a  cannibal.'' 

Xana'ukst  gave  his  son  the  back-fat  of  four  deer,  and  sent  him  up 
Cay  use  Creek  to  train.  There  he  trained  himself  for  four  years,  and 
never  combed  his  hair  in  tliat  time,  so  that  it  had  become  filled  with 
needles  from  the  fir-branches  with  which  he  washed  himself,  and  stuck 
out  like  a  ball  around  his  head.  When  he  had  finished  training,  he 
found  himself  to  be  full  of  knowledge  and  magic.  He  was  the  discov- 
erer of  arrow-stone,  and  from  it  made  the  first  arrow-heads  and  knives, 
which  he  used  in  hunting.  He  also  made  the  first  bow  and  arrow 
and  quiver,  and  the  first  pair  of  snowshoes.  When  he  had  made  all 
these  things,  he  hunted  and  killed  deer  for  food. 

One  day  he  swallowed  a  dog,  quiver,  bow,  arrows,  knife,  and  snow- 
shoes,  and  then  went  down  to  the  lake,  on  the  other  side  of  which  li\ed 
the  people  who  had  killed  his  brothers.  He  shouted  for  a  canoe  all 
day  long,  but  the  people  took  no  notice  of  him.  About  evening  he 
grew  tired,  and,  leaning  back  on  the  bank,  >'awned.  All  at  once  the 
people  seemed  to  hear  him,  and  sent  off  two  men  in  a  canoe  to  fetch 
him  across.  They  stopped  the  canoe  about  ten  feet  from  the  shore, 
and  asked  him  to  jumj)  in.  He  saifl  it  was  too  far:  so  the>-  brought  the 
canoe  a  little  closer,  and  he  jumped  in.  When  they  were  going  across, 
they  asked  him  which  chief  he  intended  to  visit,*  and  he  said,  "  Zeniix- 
ha'." They  said,  "  You  must  be  making  a  mistake.  Rvcry  one  who 
comes  here  visits  Nkaliixha'."      But  he  said,  "  I  visit  Zeniixha'." 

When  Nkaluxha'  saw  the  canoe  approaching,  he  thought  thr  man 

'  Some  say  they  wctc  cranes,  or  Hiniilar  to  iluiii. 
»  Also  called  KalUxha'. 

*  KalUxha'  used  to  throw  them  alive  into  his  kettle,  and  boil  them. 

*  Some  .'»ay  they  first  told  him  two  chiefs  (KivinR  their  names)  lived  across  the  lake, 
and  said,  "  It  is  our  duty  to  take  you  to  cither  one  you  wish." 


366  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

would  certainly  come  to  him,  as  the  others  had  done:  so  he  made  his 
little  kettle  boil  (it  was  a  hole  in  the  earth,  lined  in  the  inside  with  flat 
stones),  and  he  cried,  "  Nim,  nim,  nim,  I  will  soon  have  some  dainty 
meat  to  eat!"  He  was  disappointed,  however,  for  the  canoe  men 
had  to  conduct  the  man  to  Zenuxha"s  house,  as  he  had  requested. 

Entering  the  house,  he  said  to  Zeniixha',  "  You  are  a  great  chief, 
and  I  take  refuge  with  you.  I  come  for  your  daughters."  Zeniixha' 
said,  "  Kneel  down  before  me."  Then  he  struck  him  on  the  back  of 
the  head  four  times,  each  time  with  a  different  fir-branch,  and  the  lice 
fell  out  of  his  head.  Then  he  said,  "  Go  and  wash  yourself  in  my 
water,"  pointing  to  a  little  creek  near  by.  When  he  returned,  Zeniixha' 
gave  him  his  two  daughters  to  be  his  wives.  His  father-in-law  said, 
"  It  is  well  that  you  came  to  me.  If  you  had  gone  to  my  brother, 
you  would  have  shared  the  fate  of  your  brothers." 

The  young  man  did  not  leave  the  house  for  a  couple  of  days. 
He  staid  with  his  wives,  who  were  making  moccasins  for  him.  The 
other  young  men  in  the  house  said,  "  Zeniixha"s  son-in-law  should 
hunt.  He  has  given  his  daughters  to  a  useless,  lazy  fellow.  He  should 
have  given  them  to  us,  who  are  hunters  and  industrious  men."  On 
the  next  morning  the  young  man  went  hunting  with  his  brothers-in-law 
and  all  the  men.  They  travelled  fast,  and  left  him  behind  with  one 
of  his  brothers-in-law,  who  said,  "  You  hunt  in  that  direction,  and  I 
will  hunt  in  this  direction."  After  they  had  parted,  the  young  man 
vomited  his  snowshoes,^  and  put  them  on.  He  also  vomited  his  dog 
and  his  weapons.  The  dog  ran  all  the  deer  into  a  gulch,  where  his 
master  came  up  and  shot  them.  He  cut  up  one,  and  took  the  web-fat 
from  around  the  paunch,  and  put  it  inside  his  quiver. 

It  was  dark  when  he  got  home;  and  all  the  other  men  had  preceded 
him,  being  unable  to  find  any  deer.  They  laughed  when  they  saw  him 
come  in  without  any  meat.  When  his  wives  had  pulled  off  his  shoes, 
he  said  to  them,  "  Give  my  quiver  to  my  father-in-law  to  dry." 
Zeniixha'  was  astonished  to  find  the  fat  inside,  and  the  others  at  once 
ceased  laughing.  He  cooked  the  fat,  and  invited  Nkaliixha'  to  come 
and  eat.  The  latter  made  great  haste,  thinking  his  brother  had 
cooked  his  son-in-law.  He  said,  "  Nim,  nim,  nim!  "  as  he  came  down 
the  ladder.  Zeniixha'  said,  "If  you  kill  any  more  people,  I  will  kill 
you."  So  Nkaliixha',  after  eating  part  of  the  fat,  went  home  dis- 
appointed. Now  the  young  man  said,  "  I  have  killed  many  deer. 
To-morrow  you  will  bring  them  in."  It  took  all  the  people  four  days 
to  carry  all  the  meat  home. 

When  the  man  had  lived  four  years  ^  with  these  people,  he  decided 
to  go  home.     He  had  now  a  child  by  each  wife,  and  the  children  were 

'  These  people  had  never  seen  snowshoes. 
»  Some  say  three  years. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     '},6y 

asking  to  see  their  grandmother.  He  said  to  his  wives,  "  Your  people 
are  ver>'  bad.  You  must  not  be  sorry  if  I  transform  them.  Then  we 
will  go  home  to  my  people.  There  is  no  hurry,  however,  for  my  father 
does  not  expect  me  yet.     I  told  him  I  would  be  away  eight  years. "^ 

One  day  he  took  Nkaliixha',  transformed  him  into  a  crane  ^  and 
threw  him  on  one  side  of  the  lake,  and  the  w^ater  at  once  turned  black. 
Then  he  threw  Nkaluxha"s  wife  behind  her  husband,  transforming 
her  into  a  mountain  of  a  black  color.'  Seizing  Zeniixha',  he  changed 
him  into  a  s'a'ttien,*  and,  throwing  him  to  the  other  side  of  the  lake, 
the  water  there  assumed  a  white  color.  Then  he  threw  Zenuxha"s 
wife  behind  him,  and  she  became  a  white  mountain.  Thus  the  lake 
became  "  mysterious;"  and  half  of  its  waters  is  black,  and  the  other 
half  white. 

Now  he  took  all  the  rest  of  the  people,  transformed  them  into  lizards, 
and  threw  them  around  the  lake-shore.^  Then  he  jumped  over  the 
bones  of  his  brothers,  and  they  became  alive  and  walked  home.  He 
followed  them,  with  his  wives  and  children.  On  the  w'ay,  his  wives 
dug  roots  ^  in  great  abundance,  which  he  caused  to  assume  the  size 
and  weight  of  two  small  bundles.  He  hunted  deer,  killed  forty,  and 
gave  them  the  size  and  weight  of  an  ordinary  pack  of  meat,  which  he 
carried  himself. 

When  he  arrived  at  home,  he  caused  the  roots  and  deer  to  return  to 
their  original  proportions,  and  they  filled  many  scafTolds.  Then  he 
gave  a  great  feast  and  a  potlatch,  —  the  first  one  on  record.  He  spread 
fir-branches  all  around  the  outside  of  the  house  for  his  guests  to  walk 
on,  and  invited  all  the  people  from  the  Lower  Lillooet  River  north- 
east to  the  Fountain,  and  they  all  had  plenty  to  eat. 

Most  of  the  Sktmqa'in  people  are  descended  from  the  man  and  his 
two  wives.  They  wx^re  the  first  women  that  used  bone  whistles,^  on 
which  they  used  to  imitate  the  cries  of  the  crane,  heron,  swan,  and 
other  birds.  The  people  who  claimed  descent  from  them  used  to 
imitate  cranes  in  their  dances,  used  whistles,  and  wore  masks  like  the 
heads  of  cranes.  The  Skimqa'in  people  are  nicknamed  "  cranes  "  or 
"  s'a'tuen  "  by  the  other  Lillooet. 

*  Some  say  seven  years. 

'  The  kind  of  crane  called  by  the  Thompson  "skolaxa'n." 

*  Changed  to  black  color,  because  bad.     Black  seems  to  be  symbolic  of  evil. 

«  A  bird  so  named  by  the  Thompson  Indians.  I  did  not  learn  the  Lillooet  name. 
The  narrator  told  the  story  in  the  Thompson  language.     It  is  a  variety  of  crane  or  heron. 

*  Li/ards  are  very  plentiful  near  this  lake  and  on  the  neighboring  hills.  Near  by,  on 
the  hillsides,  lilies  of  two  kinds  grow  in  great  abundance;  and  the  women,  when  about  to 
dig  their  r<M)ts.  address  a  prayer  as  follows:  "()  ZenUxha'l  know  thou  that  we  come 
to  dig  roots.      May  no  lizards  harm  us,  or  follow  us  when  we  go  ht)mel" 

*  The  varieties  of  roots  called  tatu'en  and  ska'meic  by  the  Thompson  Indians. 

*  The  same  kind  that  pubescent  girls  and  boys  use.  1  ti<v  .iti-  iiUo  soiintimcs  used  as 
drinking-tubes. 

VOL.   XXV. — NO.  98. — 24 


368  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 

49.     ORIGIN    OF    THE    FOUNTAIN    PEOPLE » 

The  first  person  known  to  have  lived  near  Fountain  (X'a'xalEp^) 
was  a  man  called  Coyote,  who  dwelt  in  an  underground  house  at  a 
place  called  Laxo'xoa,  below  the  present  Fountain  rancheria.  He 
was  going  to  cut  open  the  belly  of  his  wife,  who  was  pregnant,  when 
the  four  transformers — Black-Bear  brothers  —  came  along,  and, 
hearing  him  weeping,  entered  the  house  and  asked  what  was  wrong. 
He  said,  "  You  see  your  mother  lying  there!  Well,  I  am  about  to  cut 
her  open  and  take  out  her  child."  He  was  sharpening  a  stone  arrow- 
head knife  for  the  purpose.  "  She  will  die;  but  I  will  rear  the  child, 
who  will,  in  turn,  become  my  wife.  I  have  been  doing  this  for  genera- 
tions." The  brothers  answered,  "  You  are  certainly  to  be  pitied;  but 
we  can  help  you.  Give  us  some  bird-cherry  bark."  They  took  the 
bird-cherry  bark,  which  they  moistened,  and,  inserting  it  in  the  woman, 
they  pulled  the  child,  the  head  of  which  came  out.  The  bark  string 
broke,  and  they  asked  for  some  deer-thong,  which  they  fastened  to  the 
child,  and  pulled  it  out  altogether.  Then  they  said,  "  Your  wife  will 
henceforth  give  birth  to  children,  and  there  will  be  no  longer  any  need 
of  cutting  her  belly  open."  Coyote  was  very  glad.  They  further  said, 
"  You  will  have  very  many  children  by  your  wife,  and  your  descendants 
will  become  numerous  in  this  country." 

Coyote  had  a  numerous  family,  half  of  whom  married  Shuswap  from 
up  the  Fraser,  and  the  other  half  married  Lillooet  from  across  the 
Fraser.  Their  descendants  settled  in  and  occupied  the  country  to  a 
point  up  the  river  beyond  Kala'ut,  and  near  to  the  mouth  of  Pavilion 
Creek,  and  as  far  down  as  opposite  the  mouth  of  Bridge  River.  There 
one  of  them,  by  name  Keaxu's,  made  an  underground  house;  and  his 
descendants  increased,  and  occupied  several  houses  at  that  place. 
They  always  intermarried  with  both  the  Lillooet  and  Shuswap,  and 
from  the  first  have  been  a  mixed  people,  as  they  are  at  the  present  day. 
They  are  neither  Lillooet  nor  Shuswap,  but  part  of  both,  and  speak 
both  languages.  Their  ancestor.  Coyote,  is  supposed  to  have  been  a 
Shuswap,  or  at  least  he  spoke  that  language.  They  are  nicknamed 
"  Coyote  people  "  by  the  other  Lillooet,  and  used  to  impersonate  their 
ancestors  at  dances.  They  wore  coyote  masks  at  potlatches  and  when 
they  danced.  Some  of  the  Lillooet  who  intermarried  with  them  con- 
tinued to  wear  the  frog  masks  of  the  SetL  people  at  their  dances. 

>  The  Fountain  people  are  called  X'a'xalEpamux  or  Laxo'xoamux  (from  X'a'xalEp, 
the  name  of  the  place  where  their  present  village  is  situated;  and  from  Laxo'xoa.  the 
name  of  their  original  abode,  which  is  only  half  a  mile  away).  The  latter  is  the  more 
ancient  name.  They  are  sometimes  called  SuatLemux,  as  belonging  to  that  division;  but 
some  people  look  on  them  as  different,  and  simply  call  them  Laxo'xoamux  (see  footnote 
I  to  p.  291;  also  p.  295). 

'  The  name  of  the  present  Fountain  village. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     369 

50.    komakstI'mut  ' 

A  woman  called  Komakstrmut  lived  in  the  west,  in  a  high  mountain 
of  the  Cascade  Range,  ov^erlooking  a  lake,  in  a  cave  of  two  rooms. 
Stretching  from  her  house  to  the  lake  was  a  smooth,  steep  slide  where 
she  amused  herself  by  sliding  down  into  the  water.  She  had  no  hair 
on  head  and  body.  She  needed  no  food,  for  she  lived  by  her  magical 
powers.  She  waylaid  hunters,  upon  whom  she  cast  a  spell.  At  once 
they  lost  all  will  power,  and  became  entirely  subject  to  her  control. 
Thus  she  had  captured  many  men,  and  taken  them  to  her  house. 
There  she  stripped  them  naked,  and  cohabited  with  them.  They 
lost  all  desire  to  leave  her;  and  when  she  was  absent,  they  sat  in  the 
house,  waiting  for  her.  As  she  kept  no  food,  they  could  not  eat,  and, 
owing  to  her  influence,  they  were  never  hungry.  Thus  they  remained 
until  they  gradually  wasted  away  and  died.  Then  she  put  them  in 
the  inner  cave,  beside  the  skeletons  of  her  previous  victims. 

Now  there  came  into  this  region  two  sisters  gifted  with  magic, 
who  were  accompanying  their  husbands  on  a  hunting-trip.  The 
husband  of  the  elder  one  was  the  Horned-Owl;  and  her  son  was  the 
Deer.  The  younger  one  had  for  husband  the  Golden-Eagle;  and  her 
daughter  was  the  Frog.  Both  sisters  had  luxuriant  heads  of  hair, 
upon  which  they  bestowed  much  care,  combing  it,  and  washing  it  with 
medicine.  The  hair  of  the  elder  one  reached  to  her  heels,  and  that  of 
the  younger  one  trailed  on  the  ground. 

One  day  the  two  men,  while  hunting,  came  near  to  where  Ko- 
makstI'mut was,  and  fell  under  her  spell.  Eagle  became  completely 
spellbound,  and  Owl  lost  his  mind.  He  escaped  from  her,  and  wan- 
dered about,  hooting  as  he  passed  the  women's  camp,  which  he  would 
not  approach. 

When  the  women  learned  that  KomakstI'mut  had  taken  Eagle, 
they  said,  "We  must  rescue  our  husband."  They  gave  Owl's  son 
toys  to  play  with  during  their  absence;  but  he  cried  and  they  had  to 
return.  Then  they  gave  him  different  kinds  of  toys;  but  again  he 
cried.  At  last,  the  fourth  time,  they  gave  him  a  bow  and  arrows  and 
a  fawn  to  play  with.  He  was  delighted  with  these,  and  amused 
himself  by  shooting  at  the  fawn.  The  women  fastened  u|i  the  door 
of  the  lodge  and  departed,  carrying  the  girl  on  their  backs.  The  boy 
never  cried.  When  he  was  tired  he  slept,  and  when  he  woke  up  he 
played  again.*  When  KomakstI'mut  had  ca[)ture(l  Eagle,  she  tocjk 
him  to  her  home.  As  they  travelled  along,  she  plucked  out  all  his 
feathers.  The  sisters  followed  their  track,  picked  up  the  feathers  as  they 
went  along,  and  put  them  in  a  sack.     At  last  they  came  to  the  lake, 

•  Compare  Tcit,  Mythology,  p.  251.  Said  to  t)c  so  named  because  slic  had  no  hair  on 
her  head.     Some  say  she  was  the  otter. 

'  See  Tcit,  Tradilions,  p.  64;  Tirit,  The  Shuswup,  p.  675. 


370  Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 

and  saw  on  its  calm  waters  the  line  of  feathers  stretching  right  across. 
Now  they  took  bones,  flesh,  and  intestines  out  of  the  girl  that  they 
were  carrying,  and  transformed  her  skin  into  a  canoe,  which  moved 
through  the  water  like  a  frog.  They  picked  up  all  the  down  and 
feathers  as  they  crossed.  When  Komaksti'mut  saw  them,  she  said, 
•'Oh!  at  last  my  rivals  have  come.  What  fine  hair  they  have!" 
When  they  reached  the  house,  she  said  to  them,  "  I  should  like  to  have 
hair  like  yours."  They  answered,  "We  can  easily  make  hair  like 
ours  grow  on  you,  if  you  wish."  Now  she  proposed  that  they  should 
go  and  play  on  the  slide.  She  wanted  them  to  go  first,  but  they  refused. 
Then  she  jumped  on  the  slide,  and  rolled  down  to  the  lake,  but  did 
not  sink  in  the  water.  While  she  was  gone,  one  of  the  women  filled 
her  mouth  with  red  paint,  and  the  other  with  white  paint,  from  their 
paint-pouches.  When  Komaksti'mut  returned,  she  said,  "Now  it  is 
your  turn."  The  elder  one  then  stepped  on  the  slide,  and  rolled 
down  into  the  water,  which  became  tinged  with  red  from  the  paint  she 
spat  out.  Then  the  younger  one  stepped  on  the  slide,  and  rolled  into 
the  water.  Soon  the  lake  turned  white;  and  Komaksti'mut  thought 
the  girls  had  dashed  out  their  blood  and  brains.^  She  went  home 
laughing.  Barely  had  she  reached  there,  when  the  sisters  appeared 
quite  unharmed. 

They  said,  "Now  we  will  make  hair  grow  on  you."  They  told 
her  to  bring  pitch  and  flat  stones,  and  to  make  a  fire.  The  sisters 
heated  the  stones,  and  let  Komaksti'mut  sit  down.  One  of  them  held 
her  from  behind,  while  the  other  one,  standing  behind  her,  put  a 
large  lump  of  pitch  on  the  top  of  her  head.  She  then  placed  a  hot 
stone  on  the  pitch;  and,  when  the  melting  pitch  ran  down  over  her, 
Komaksti'mut  began  to  squirm.  In  order  to  keep  her  quiet,  they 
passed  some  of  their  own  hair  in  front  of  her  ears,  so  that  she  could 
see  it,  saying,  "Look!  your  hair  is  over  your  ears  already."  Then 
they  put  on  another  stone,  hotter  than  the  first,  and  she  began  to 
struggle;  but  they  made  her  believe  that  her  hair  reached  over  her 
shoulders,  and  she  sat  still  again.  The  fourth  stone  burned  a  hole 
through  the  top  of  her  head  and  killed  her. 

Then  they  threw  her  body  into  the  lake,  and  said,  "Henceforth 
you  will  be  the  'water  mystery'  of  this  lake.  You  will  seek  and  kill 
no  more  men.  Only  when  a  hunter  sees  you  here  in  the  lake,  then  you 
may  kill  him."  Even  in  our  days,  hunters  occasionally  see  Ko- 
maksti'mut in  this  lake,  and,  if  their  time  has  come,  they  die  after 
seeing  her. 

The  women  found  Eagle,  who  was  already  very  thin.  They  put 
all  his  feathers  on  him.  Then  they  revived  all  Komakstl'mut's 
victims,  who  then  returned  to  their  homes. 

'  See  Teit,  Traditions,  p.  39;  Teit,  The  Shuswap,  p.  666. 


Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians  of  British  Columbia     371 

The  sisters  and  Eagle  crossed  the  lake  in  the  frog  canoe.  They 
put  the  flesh,  bones,  and  intestines  back  into  their  child.  She  assumed 
her  original  shape,  and  they  carried  her  along.  When  they  arrived 
at  home,  they  found  their  son  playing  with  the  fawn.  Now  both 
sisters  were  Eagle's  wives,  for  Owl  was  still  wandering  in  the  moun- 
tains. Later  a  transformer  changed  him  into  the  horned  owl,  saying, 
"Henceforth  you  will  be  an  owl,  and  hoot  and  cry.  Hunters  will 
imitate  your  cry  when  they  hunt,  so  that  each  may  know  where  the 
other  is."  The  Eagle  and  the  sisters  returned  home,  and  later  on, 
they  and  their  children  were  also  transformed.' 
Spences  Bridge,  B.C. 

'  The  narrator  belonged  to  Seaton  Lake,  but  he  said  the  story  was  known  to  the  Lillooet 
of  Pemberton  and  of  Fraser  River.     He  had  forgotten  the  end  of  the  story. 


372  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


NOTES  AND  QUERIES 

The  Death  of  Andrew  Lang.  —  Andrew  Lang  died  on  the  20th  of  July, 
1912,  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight.  The  wizard  of  St.  Andrews  is  no  more.  His 
was  a  life  of  restless  activity  in  more  than  one  field.  He  was  a  student  but 
not  a  scientist,  a  scholar  but  not  a  book-worm.  Whether  he  delved  into  history, 
literature,  mythology,  social  origins,  his  scholarship  was  always  of  a  high  order, 
and  his  work  never  lacked  that  quality  of  sparkling  lightness,  that  elan,  which 
was  altogether  his  own.  Nothing,  perhaps,  could  bear  better  witness  to  his  ever 
youthful  pen  than  the  fact  that  four  books  bearing  his  name  have  appeared 
since  his  death,  not  to  speak  of  a  score  of  articles  in  various  periodicals. 

Of  Lang's  many  achievements  his  services  to  the  science  of  man  rank  among 
the  highest.  While  still  a  young  man  he  wrote  the  article  on  mythology  for 
the  ninth  edition  of  "The  Encyclopaedia  Britannica."  It  was  a  formidable 
attack  upon  the  mythological  theories  of  Max  Miiller,  who  was  then  at  the 
height  of  his  fame.  Lang  developed  what  was  destined  to  become  the  anthro- 
pological method  of  dealing  with  myths,  as  opposed  to  Miiller's  narrowly 
philological  method.  The  subsequent  development  of  the  science  of  mythology, 
to  which  Lang  himself  contributed  in  no  small  degree,  fully  vindicated  Lang's 
position  in  that  first  fight  of  his  fighting  career.  Regarding  myths  as  free 
products  of  the  imagination,  Lang  to  the  end  stalwartly  resisted  all  attempts 
to  ascribe  historical  significance  to  mythological  records.  His  "Custom  and 
Myth  "appeared  in  1884,  followed  in  1887  by  his  "Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion," 
—  the  forerunner  of  Frazer's  "Golden  Bough,"  Farnell's  "Cults  of  the  Greek 
States,"  Hartland's  "The  Legend  of  Perseus." 

Later  he  took  up  the  fight  against  Tylor's  animism.  While  having  the 
highest  regard  for  Tylor's  achievement  {cj.  Lang's  splendid  tribute  to  Tylor 
in  the  "Anthropological  Essays,"  1907),  Lang  found  that  his  facts  did  not  fit 
into  the  animistic  frame  set  for  them  by  the  father  of  anthropology;  and  he 
insisted  on  a  hearing.  He  drew  attention  to  certain  phenomena  of  twilight 
psychology,  —  hallucinations,  illusions,  crystal-gazing,  etc.,  —  the  role  of  which 
in  shaping  primitive  forms  of  religious  belief  had,  he  thought,  been  vastly  under- 
estimated. He  gave  expression  to  his  ideas  in  "Cock  Lane  and  Common 
Sense"  (1894),  and  in  part  in  "The  Making  of  Religion"  (1898).  The  latter 
work,  however,  was  inspired  by  another  heresy,  —  the  discovery  of  a  primitive 
belief  in  a  Supreme  Being.  A  heated  discussion  with  Hartland  (1898-99) 
ensued.  Lang's  advocacy  of  the  High-God  theory  was  altogether  free  from 
prejudice,  and  he  looked  askance  at  feather  P.  Schmidt's  voluminous  appreci- 
ation of  himself. 

Classical  scholars  are  divided  in  their  estimates  of  Lang's  Homeric  studies,  — 
"Homer  and  the  Epic"  (1894),  "Homer  and  his  Age"  (1906),  "The  World  of 
Homer"  (1910);  but,  whether  right  or  wrong  in  his  conclusions,  Lang  once 
more  set  an  example  of  a  broad-minded  ethnological  analysis  of  the  data. 

Lang's  most  signal  contributions  to  anthropology  fall  in  the  domain  of  primi- 
tive sociology  and  totemism.  In  his  "Social  Origins"  (1903)  he  propounded 
the  jealous-sire  theory  of  the  origin  of  exogamy;  while  the  totemic  name  theory 


Notes  and  Queries  373 

of  the  origin  of  totemism  received  its  definitive  form  in  "The  Secret  of  the 
Totem"  (1905).  With  unflagging  interest,  Lang  followed  the  rapidly  accumu- 
lating facts  and  theories  on  primitive  society  and  totemism,  ever  watchful  of 
the  blunders  of  his  encyclopaedic  rival,  J.  G.  Frazer.  In  1910  Frazer  pub- 
lished his  "Totemism  and  Exogamy,"  in  which  the  name  of  Andrew  Lang  is 
barely  mentioned.  Aroused  at  last,  Lang  took  terrible,  albeit  soft-gloved, 
revenge  in  his  article  on  totemism  in  the  eleventh  edition  of  "The  Encyclopaedia 
Britannica." 

In  his  posthumous  "Last  Words  on  Totemism,  Marriage,  and  Religion" 
(Folk-Lore,  September,  1912)  Lang  writes,  "For  the  last  three  years  I  have 
written  and  rewritten,  again  and  again,  a  work  on  totemism  and  exogamy."  All 
those  who  love  primitive  society,  all  those  who  care  to  hear  once  more  the  voice 
of  Andrew  Lang,  will  join  in  hoping  for  the  appearance  of  this  his  last  attempt 
to  unravel  the  secret  of  the  totem. 

A.   A.    GOLDENWEISER. 
CoLtTMBiA  University, 
New  York. 

The  Nineteenth  International  Congress  of  Americanists,  1914.  —  In 
the  fall  of  1911  a  number  of  delegates  to  the  past  congresses  of  the  Americanists 
met  in  Washington,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  and  the 
Anthropological  Society  of  Washington,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  preliminary 
steps  toward  extending  an  invitation  to  the  Congress,  at  its  London  meeting, 
to  hold  its  nineteenth  session  in  1914  at  Washington.  A  temporary  organizing 
committee  was  selected,  consisting  of  Professor  W.  H.  Holmes,  chairman; 
Mr.  F.  W.  Hodge;  and  Dr.  A.  Hrdlicka,  secretary.  This  committee  entered  into 
communication  with  the  principal  local  institutions  and  organizations  which 
are  interested  in  the  work  of  the  Americanists;  and  by  May  I,  1912,  a  formal 
invitation  to  the  Congress  was  agreed  upon  by  the  Smithsonian  Institution, 
the  Anthropological  Society  of  Washington,  the  George  Washington,  George- 
town, and  Catholic  Universities,  and  the  Washington  Society  of  the  Archaeo- 
logical Institute  of  America.  A  list  of  names  of  persons  to  form  the  permanent 
organizing  committee  was  agreed  upon;  and  Dr.  Hrdlicka  was  instructed  to 
present  the  joint  invitation,  with  the  list  just  mentioned,  to  the  council  of  the 
London  meeting  of  the  Americanists,  which  was  done,  and  both  were  accepted 
without  objection.  In  addition  an  oft'icial  in\itation  from  the  Bolivian  Govern- 
ment was  accepted  for  a  second  session,  to  be  held  at  La  Paz,  following  that  in 
Washington. 

On  October  11,  1912,  the  permanent  committee  for  the  Washington  session 
met  in  the  United  States  National  Museum,  for  organization.  Its  nunibership 
is  as  follows:  — 

Messrs.  Franklin  Adams,  Frank  Baker,  Charles  11.  Butler,  Mitchell  Carroll, 
Charles  W.  Currier,  A.  J.  Donlon,  J.  Walter  Fewkes,  Alice  C.  I-Metcher,  (iilbert 
H.  Grosvenor,  F.  W.  Hodge,  ii.  I..  Ilodgkins,  William  H.  Holmes,  Walter 
Hough,  Ales  Hrdlifka,  Gillard  Hunt,  J.  l'.  Jameson,  George  M.  Kober,  1).  S. 
Lamb,  Charles  H.  McCarthy,  James  Mooiiey,  J.  Dudley  Morgan,  Clarence  I*". 
Norment,  Thomas  J.  Shahan,  H.  J.  Shandelle,  George  R.  Stetson,  Charles  H. 
Stockton,  J.  R.  Swanton,  Harry  Van  Dyke,  Charles  D.  Walcott,  and  M.  I. 
Weller. 


374  Journal  oj  American  Folk- Lore 

The  elections  of  officers  resulted,  in  the  main,  as  follows:  — 

For  Patron  of  the  Congress,  The  President  of  the  United  States. 

President  Organizing  Committee,  W.  H.  Holmes,  Head  Curator  Department  of 
Anthropology,  United  States  National  Museum. 

Secretary,  A.  Hrdlicka,  Curator  Division  Physical  Anthropology,  United 
States  National  Museum. 

Auxiliary  Secretaries,  Dr.  Charles  \\^  Currier,  F.  Neumann. 

Treasurer,  C.  F.  Norment,  President  The  National  Bank  of  Washington. 

Head  of  General  (Honorary)  Committee,  Mr.  Charles  D.  Walcott,  Secretary 
Smithsonian  Institution;  Committee  on  Finance,  Dr.  George  M.  Kober;  Com- 
mittee on  Arrangements  and  Entertainment,  Professor  Mitchell  Carroll,  General 
Secretary  Archaeological  Institute  of  America;  and  Committee  on  Printing  and 
Publication,  Mr.  F.  W.  Hodge,  Ethnologist  in  Charge  of  Bureau  of  American 
Ethnology. 

The  sessions  of  the  Congress  will  be  held,  due  to  the  courtesy  of  the  authorities 
of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  in  the  new  building  of  the  National  Museum. 
The  exact  date  for  the  meeting  will  be  decided  upon  later,  in  accordance  with 
the  wishes  of  the  majority  of  the  delegates  to  the  Congress;  but  the  month 
will  in  all  probability  be  September.  Active  preparations  for  the  session,  which 
promises  to  be  one  of  the  most  important  ever  held  by  the  Americanists,  will  be 
begun  without  delay. 

A.  Hrdlicka,  Secretary. 

Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore.  —  On  p.  251  of  this  volume  I  pointed 
out  that  the  story  of  the  "Journey  of  the  Soul"  as  told  in  Pochutla,  Oaxaca 
(see  pp.  215-219),  has  a  parallel  in  the  Philippine  Islands;  and  I  concluded 
from  this  that  it  is  presumably  of  Spanish  origin.  I  have  since  found  a 
Portuguese  parallel  in  the  collection  of  Portuguese  popular  tales  gathered 
by  Z.  Consiglieri  Pedroso,  and  published  in  the  "Revue  Hispanique,"  vol. 
xiv  (1906),  pp.  148  et  seq.,  under  the  title  "O  Rio  de  Sangue."  The  tale 
is  a  little  fuller;  but  the  same  classes  of  obstacles  occur,  —  a  river  of  water, 
of  milk,  of  blood,  two  striking  rocks,  two  lions,  wood-choppers  and  firemen, 
and  fat  and  lean  doves.  The  explanations  are  analogous  to  those  given  in 
the  Pochutla  version,  only  water,  milk,  and  blood  are  referred  to  the  Virgin 
and  Christ.  —  The  story  of  the  "  Rabbit  and  the  Serpent"  (see  pp.  209,  210, 
of  this  Journal)  is  told  in  the  same  Portuguese  collection,  under  the  title 
"A  raposa"  (pp.  116  et  seq.);  and  a  version  of  "John  the  Bear"  occurs 
under  the  title  "Joao  Pelludo"  (pp.  166  et  seq.),  the  title  of  which  agrees 
with  the  Tehuantepec  form  and  that  of  the  Assiniboine  (see  this  volume, 

p.  255)- 

Franz  Boas. 


Members  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society 


375 


OFFICERS  OF  THE  AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE  SOCIETY  (1912) 

President,  John  A.  Lomax. 

First  Vice-President,  G.  L.  Kittredge. 

Second  Vice-President,  J.  Walter  Fewkes. 

Councillors.  For  three  years:  E.  K.  Putnam,  R.  H.  Lewie,  A.  M.  Toz/er.  For  two 
years:  P.  E.  Goddard,  Mrs.  Zelia  Nuttall,  S.  A.  Barrett.  For  one  year:  Phillips  Barry, 
A.  F.  Chamberlain,  J.  B.  Fletcher.  Past  Presidents:  Roland  B.  Dixon,  John  R.  Swanton, 
Henry  iA.  Belden.  Presidents  of  local  branches:  F.  W.  Putnam,  W.  F.  Harris,  A.  C.  L. 
Brown,  Miss  Mary  A.  Owen,  Joseph  Jacobs,  Robert  A.  Law. 

Editor  of  Journal,  Franz  Boas,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Editor  for  the  Society  of  Current  Anthropological  Literature,  Robert  H.  Lewie,  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Permanent  Secretary,  Charles  Peabody,  197  Brattle  Street,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Treasurer,  Eliot  W.  Remick,  300  Marlborough  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

MEMBERS   OF  THE  AMERICAN   FOLK-LORE  SOCIETY 

(for  the   YEAR    I9I2) 
HONORARY   MEMBERS 


Juan  B.  Ambrosetti,  Buenos  Ayres,  Argen- 
tine Republic. 

John  Batchelor,  Sapporo,  Japan. 

Alexander  F.  Chamberlain,  Worcester, 
Mass. 

Francisco  Adolpho  Coelho,  Lisbon,  Portu- 
gal. 

James  George  Frazer,  Cambridge,  England. 

Henri  Gaidoz,  Paris,  France. 


George  Laurence  Gomme,  London,  Eng- 
land. 

Angelo  de  Gubernatis,  Rome,  Italy. 

Edwin  Sidney  Hartland,  Gloucester,  Eng- 
land. 

Friedrich  S.  Krauss,  Vienna,  Austria. 

Kaarle  Krohn,  Helsingfors,  Finland. 

Giuseppe  Pitrd,  Palermo,  Sicilj'. 

Paul  Scbillot,  Paris,  France. 

Edward  Burnett  Tylor,  Oxford,  England. 


LIFE   MEMBERS 


Eugene  F.  Bliss,  Cincinnati,  O. 
Seth  Bunker  Capp,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Hiram  Edmund  Deals,  Flemington,  N.  J. 
Mrs.  Henry  Draper,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Joseph  E.  Gillingham,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


Paul  Kelly.  London,  England. 
Frederick  W.  Lchmann,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
J.  F.  Due  de  Loubat,  Paris,  France. 
Miss  Mary  A.  Owen,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Felix  Warburg,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


ANNUAL   MEMBERS 


Boston  Branch 

President,  Prof.  F.  W.  Putnam. 

First  Vice-President,  Dr.  W.  C.  Farabce. 

Second    Vice-President,    Miss    Helen    Leah 

Reed. 
Secretary,  Mrs.  Alexander  Martin. 
Treasurer,  S.  B.  Dean. 

Mrs.  George  A.  Alden,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Mrs.  Munroe  Aycr,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Jennie  M.  Babcock,  Boston,  Mass. 
V.  N.  Baich,  Boston.  Ma.ss. 
Mrs.  Lucia  Gale  Barber,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Laura  Barr,  Boston,  Mass. 
Phillips  Barry,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Mrs.  F.  D.  Bergen.  C'ambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  Clarence  Blake,  Boston.  Mass. 


Francis  Blake.  Auburndale.  Mass. 
Mrs.  W.  D.  Boardman.  Boston.  Mass. 
Charles  P.  Bowditch,  Boston.  Mass. 
Miss  Abby  Farwcil  Brown.  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Mary  Chapman,  -Springfield,  Mass. 
Miss  Ellen  Chase,  Brookline.  Mass. 
Mrs.  A.  E.  Childs.  Boston.  Mass. 
Miss  M.  Anna  Clarke,  Boston.  Mass. 
Miss  .S.  I.  Clarke.  Newton  Centre.  Mass. 
Mrs.  Otto  B.  ('ole.  Boston.  Ma.ss. 
Miss  Helen  Collainore.  Boston.  Mass. 
Mrs.  G.  A.  Collier.  Boston.  Mass. 
O.  T.  Comstock,  Bostf)n.  Mass. 
Mrs.  J()sci)h  W.  Courtney,  Boston.  Mass. 
Miss  .S.  n.  Crocker.  Boston.  Mass. 
Mrs.  Elniira  T.  Davis.  Boston.  Mass. 
Mrs.  Samuel  Deanc.  Roxbury,  Mass. 


376 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


Miss  Grace  Donworth,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Carl  Dreyfus,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Marie  Everett,  Boston,  Mass. 
Dr.  W.  C.  Farabee,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  Charles  E.  Fay,  Medford,  Mass. 
Frederick  P.  Fish,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Margaret  Fish,  Long^v•ood,  Mass. 
Miss  Emma  J.  Fitz,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Mary  E.  Foster,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
R.  G.  Fuller,  Dover,  Mass. 
Charles  VV.  Furlong,  Newton,  Mass. 
Mrs.  F.  W.  Gaskill,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  F.  A.  Golder,  Boston,  Mass. 
Marshall  H.  Gould,  Boston.  Mass. 
Mrs.  J.  M.  Graham,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  John  C.  Gray,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  H.  A.  Hall,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Alice  M.  Hawes,  Boston,  Mass. 
Clarence  L.  Hay,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
H.  D.  Heathfield,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Lee  HolTman,  Portland,  Ore. 
Dr.  George  P.  Howe.  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Thomas  W.  Hyde,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Rebecca  R.  Joslin,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Marion  Judd,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Lawrence  Keeler,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Frederick  Kendall,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Louise  Kennedy,  Concord.  Mass. 
Mrs.  David  Kimball,  Boston,  Mass. 
Prof.  G.  L.  Kittrcdge,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  W.  LeBrun,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  M.  V.  Little,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Jared  Lockwood,  Boston,  Mass. 
James  Longley,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Daniel  Lothrop,  Concord,  Mass. 
Dr.  A.  W.  Lybyer,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Mrs.  Thomas  Mack,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Alexander  Martin,  Boston,  Mass. 
Albert  Matthews,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Bee  Mayes,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Frances  Mead,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  S.  N.  Merrick,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Sophie  Moen,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  M.  A.  Molineaux,  Brookline,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Jane  Newell  Moore,  Wayland,  Mass. 
Mrs.  James  N.  North,  Brookline.  Mass. 
Dr.  Horace  Packard,  Boston,  Mass. 
Dr.  Sarah  E.  Palmer,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  J.  F.  Perry,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  E.  M.  Plummer.  Charlestown.  Mass. 
Dr.  C.  Augusta  Pope,  Boston,  Mass. 
Dr.  Emily  F.  Pope,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  VV.  G.  Preston,  Brookline,  Mass. 
Prof.  F.  W.  Putnam,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  F.  W.  Putnam,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Henry  E.  Raymond,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  Helen  Leah  Reed,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
E.  W.  Remick,  Boston,  Mass. 
Prof.  B.  L.  Robinson.  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Dr.  C.  A.  Scott,  Boston.  Mass. 
Miss  Selmes,  Concord,  Mass. 
Mrs.  H.  N.  Sheldon,  Boston.  Mass. 
Mrs.  W.  P.  Shreve.  Boston.  Mass. 
A.  T.  Sinclair.  Allston.  Mass. 
Fitz-Henry  Smith.  Jr.,  Boston,  Mass. 
Dr.  H.  J.  Spinden,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


J.  B.  Stetson,  Ashbourne,  Pa. 
Dr.  J.  C.  Tello,  Berlin,  Germany. 
A.  R.  Tisdale,  Boston,  Mass. 
Prof.  C.  H.  Toy,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  A.  M.  Tozzer,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  S.  G.  Underbill.  Groton,  Mass. 
Dr.  F.  H.  Verhoef.  Longwood.  Mass. 
Mrs.  C.  N.  W.  Ward,  Boston,  Mass. 
Miss  S.  L.  Warren,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  J.  C.  Whitin,  Whitinsville,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Ashton  Willard,  Boston,  Mass. 
Mrs.  M.  V.  Wolcott,  Boston,  Mass. 
Prof.  J.  H.  Woods,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Cambridge  Branch 
President,  Prof.  W.  F.  Harris, 
Secretary,  Mrs.  Emile  Williams. 
Treasurer,  Prof.  M.  L.  Fernald. 

Mrs.  Frederick  Atherton,  Boston,  Mass. 
Prof.  Irving  Babbitt,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

C.  F.  Batchelder,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Prof.  G.  H.  Chase,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Miss  Mary  Coes,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Prof.  R.  B.  Dixon,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
E.  B.  Drew,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Prof.  Arthur  Fairbanks,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  W.  .S.  Ferguson,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  M.  L.  Fernald,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
W.  H.  Graves,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  W^  F.  Harris,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Allen  Jackson,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  A.  E.  Kennelly,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Francis  Kershaw,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Miss    Margaret    A.    Leavitt,    Cambridge, 
Mass. 

D.  B.  McMillan,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
G.  N.  McMillan.  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  Lionel  S.  Marks,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  W.  A.  Neilson,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  Charles  Palache,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  Charles  Peabody,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Charles  Peabody,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  R.  B.  Perry,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

C.  R.  Post,  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Dr.  Benjamin  Rand,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  F.  N.  Robinson,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Miss  Fanny  Russell,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  W.  S.  Scudder,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  J.  G.  Thorp,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  A.  M.  Tozzer,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Miss  Bertha  Vaughan,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  E.  R.  O.  von  Mach,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Prof.  J.  A.  Waltz,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Hollis  Webster,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Dr.  K.  G.  T.  Webster,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.     Walter     Wesselhoeft,     Cambridge, 

Mass. 
Miss  Margaret  White.  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Mrs.  Emile  Williams. 
Prof.  C.  H.  C.  Wright.  Cambridge.  Mass. 
Miss  Sarah  Yerxa.  Cambridge.  Mass. 

Illinois  Br.\nch 

President,  Prof.  A.  C.  L.  Brown. 
Vice-President,  Prof.  George  T.  Flom. 
Secretary  and  Treasurer,  Dr.  H.  S.  V.  Jones. 


Members  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society 


Z77 


Prof.  A.  C.  L.  Brown,  Evanston,  III. 
Prof.  Alphonse  de  Salvio,  Evanston,  111. 
Prof.  George  T.  Flom,  Urbana,  111. 
Prof.  Edward  Fulton,  Urbana,  111. 
Prof.  Julius  Goebel,  Urbana,  111. 
Dr.  H.  S.  V.  Jones,  Urbana,  III. 
Prof.  J.  M.  Manly,  Chicago,  111. 
Prof.  A.  S.  Pease,  Urbana,  111. 
Prof.  Albert  H.  Tolman,  Chicago.  111. 

Missouri  Branch 

President,  Miss  Mary  A.  Owen. 
Vice-Presidents,  Dr.  W.  L.  Campbell,  Miss 

Mary    A.    Wadsworth,     Prof.    John   L. 

Lowes,  Miss  Goldy  M.  Hamilton. 
Secretary,  Prof.  Henry  M.  Belden. 
Treasurer,  Miss  Idress  Head. 

Mrs.  L.  D.  Ames,  Columbia,  Mo. 
Prof.  Henry  M.  Belden,  Columbia,  Mo. 
Prof.  W.  G.  Brown,  Columbia.  Mo. 
Dr.  W.  L.  Campbell,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
Miss  Louise  N.  Fitch,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Miss  Goldy  M.  Hamilton,  Kirksville,  Mo. 
Miss  Idress  Head,  St.  I-ouis,  Mo. 
Miss  J.  M.  A.  Jones,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Hon.  Gardner  Lathrop,  Chicago,  111. 
Prof.  J.  L.  Lowes,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Miss  Mary  A.  Owen,  St.  Joseph,  Mo. 
Miss  V.  E.  Stevenson,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

D.  W.  Surggett,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Miss  Antoinette  Taylor,  Webster  Groves, 

Mo. 
Miss  Meiry  A.  Wadsworth,  Columbia,  Mo. 

New  York  Bra.vch 

President,  Prof.  Joseph  Jacobs. 
Vice-President,  Dr.  R.  H.  Lowie. 
Secretary,  Dr.  A.  A.  Goldenweiser. 
Treasurer,  Stansbury  Hagar. 

Prof.  Franz  Boas,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  A.  Bressler,  New  York.  N.  Y. 
Prof.  E.  S.  Burgess,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
R.  W.  de  Forest,  New  York.  N.  Y. 
F.  S.  Dellcnbaugh,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

E.  W.  Deming,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Prof.  Livingston  F"arrand,  New  \'ork,  N.  Y. 

Prof.  J.  B.  Fletcher,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

L.  J.  Frachtenborg,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Dr.  J.  L.  Gerig.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Prof.  Ginsl)erR.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  A.  A.  Goldenweiser.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

R.  A.  Goldstein.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  George  Birrl  Grinnell,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Miss  Louise  Haessler.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Stansbury  Hagar,  New  Y(jrk,  N.  Y. 

Prof.  Joseph  Jacobs,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  R.  H.  Lowie,  New  VOrk,  N.  Y. 

Rev.  Dr.  Martin  A.  Meyer,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Mrs.  Laura  Oppenheim.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Dr.  Max  Radin.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  Paul  Kadin,  City  of  Mexico. 

Dr.  Ernst  Richard,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Prof.  Marshall  H.  Savillc.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Miss  Gerda  Sebbelov.  New  York,  N.  Y. 


Alanson  Skinner,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
H.  J.  Sommerich,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Texas  Branch 

President,  Dr.  Robert  A.  Law. 
Vice-Presidents,  C.  Lombardi.  Miss  Adina 

De  Zavala.  Miss  Laura  Burleson. 
Secretary,  Prof.  John  A.  Lomax. 
Treasurer,  Miss  E.  P.  Stockwell. 

Mrs.  A.  H.  Belo.  Dallas.  Tex. 

Miss   E.    R.    Breckenridge.   San   Antonio. 

Tex. 
Miss  Laura  Burleson. 
Prof.  Lilia  M.  Casis,  Austin,  Tex. 
Mrs.  J.  R.  Christian,  Houston.  Tex. 
Miss  Adina  de  Zavala,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
Mrs.  J.  B.  Dibrell,  Seguin,  Tex. 
Mrs.  A.  M.  Fischer,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
Mrs.  C.  C.  Garrett,  Brenham,  Tex. 
W.  A.  Halford,  Garland,  Tex. 
Mrs.  Laura  B.  Hart,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
Mrs.  J.  A.  Jones,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
Miss  A.  F.  Keiper,  Dallas.  Tex. 
J.  A.  Kirkley.  Greenville,  Tex. 
Dr.  Robert  A.  Law,  Austin,  Tex. 
Prof.  R.  N.  Leavell,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
T.  G.  Lemmon,  Dallas,  Tex. 
Prof.  J.  A.  Lomax.  Austin.  Tex. 
C.  Lombardi,  Dallas,  Tex. 
Mrs.  Lipscomb  Norvell,  Beaumont,  Tex. 
Dr.  F.  M.  Painter,  Pilot  Point,  Tex. 
F.  C.  Patten,  Galveston,  Tex. 
Dr.  L.  W.  Payne,  Austin,  Tex. 
Prof.  J.  E.  Pearce,  Austin,  Tex. 
Mrs.  P.  V.  Pennypacker,  Austin,  Tex. 
Mrs.  W.  F.  Price,  Nacogdoches,  Tex. 
Dr.  Sylvester  Primer,  Austin,  Tex. 
Miss  Daisy  M.  Reedy,  Tyler,  Tex. 
E.  R.  Rotan,  Waco,  Tex. 
Mrs.  Charles  Scheuber,  Fort  Worth,  Tex. 
Rev.  E.  L.  Shettles,  Houston,  Tex. 
J.  H.  Sullivan,  San  Antonio,  Tex. 
Alonzo  Wasson,  Dallas,  Tex. 
Prof.  James  B.  Wharey,  Austin,  Tex. 

Members  at  Large 

Edward  D.  Adams,  New  \'ork,  N.  Y. 
Prof.  K.  Aniersbach,  Freiburg.  Germany. 
Mrs.  G.  F.  Baker.  Seattle.  Wash. 
Dr.  S.  A.  Barrett,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Mrs.  Alfred  Bayliss,  Macomb,  111. 
Wni.  Beer,  New  Orleans,  La. 
Charles  J.  Billson,  Leicester,  England. 
Mrs.  T.  B.  Bishop,  San  Rafael.  Cal. 
Mrs.  Pliila  Hliven,  Cirant's  Pass,  Ore. 
A.  E.  Bostwick.  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Mrs.  John  ("..  Bourke.  f)niaha.  Neb. 
Dr.  G.  P.  Bradley.  So.  Lancaster.  Mass. 
Prof.  H.  C.  G.  Brandt.  Clinton,  N.  Y. 
W.  M.  Brigham,  Lecompte,  La. 
Miss  Josephine  Brower.  St.  Cloud.  Minn. 
Philip  Greely  Brown.  Portland.  Me. 
S.  A.  R.  Brown,  Denver,  Col. 
Mrs.  W.  Wallace  Brown,  Calais,  Me. 


378 


Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 


Sam  M.  Byrd,  Amarillo,  Tex. 

Rev.  E.  C.  Charlton,  Heath,  Mass. 

C.  H.  Clark.  Jr..  Philadelphia.  Pa. 

W.  E.  Connelley,  Topeka,  Kan. 

Miss  K.  T.  Cory,  Polacca.  Ariz. 

Stewart  Culin.  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Roland  G.  Curtin,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Miss  Natalie  Curtis,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

George  E.  Uiniock,  Elizabeth,  N.  J. 

Dr.  George  A.  Dorsey,  Chicago.  111. 

Mrs.  Henry  Draper.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Henry  Eames,  Omaha,  Neb. 

L.  H.  Elwell,  Amherst,  Mass. 

Rev.  A.  F.  Fehlandt,  Michigan.  No.  Dak. 

Prof.  J.  Walter  F"ewkes,  Washington.  D.  C. 

Hon.  C.  A.  Fiske.  Davenport.  la. 

Miss  Alice  C.  Fletcher,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Prof.  E.  M.  Fogel,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Prof.  Alc6e  Fortier,  New  Orleans,  La. 

Emelyn  C.  Gardner,  Ypsilanti,  Mich. 

Mrs.  J.  B.  Gardner.  Little  Rock,  Ark. 

A.  C.  Garrett,  Philadelphia.  Pa. 

Dr.  A.  G.  Gerster.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

S.  W.  Gisriel,  Baltimore.  Md. 

Dr.  P.  E.  Goddard.  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Prof.  George  B.  Gordon.  Philadelphia.  Pa. 

Miss  Eleanor  Hague,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

N.  H.  Harding,  Chicago,  111. 

Miss  Ida  T.  Harmeyer,  Cincinnati,  O. 

Mrs.  R.  C.  Harrison,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

S.  Hart.  Newport,  R.  I. 

Mrs.  J.  B.  Havre,  High  Point,  N.  C. 

Mrs.  D.  B.  Heard.  Phoenix,  Ariz. 

E.  W.  Hcusinger,  San  .Antonio,  Tex. 

Frederick  W.  Hodge,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Miss  A.  B.  Hollenback.  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Prof.  W.  H.  Holmes,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Mrs.  T.  J.  Hoover,  London,  England. 

Dr.  Walter  Hough,  Washington.  D.  C. 

J.  F.  Huckel.  Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Dr.  Henry  M.  Hurd,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Prof.  A.  V.  W.  Jackson,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  A.  Jacobi,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Mock  Joya,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Robert  Junghanns.  Bayamon.  Porto  Rico. 

Mrs.  John  Ketcham.  Chenoa.  111. 

L.  S.  Kirtland,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

H.  E.  Krehbicl,  New  York.  N.  Y. 

Prof.  A.  L.  Kroeber.  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

Walter  Learned.  New  London,  Conn. 

Edward  Lindsey,  Warren,  Pa. 

Prof.  L.  Loria,  Florence,  Italy. 

C.  A.  Loveland,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Benjamin  Smith  Lyman.  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


Prof.  Kenneth  McKenzie.  New  Haven.  Conn. 

W.  H.  Mechling.  Mexico.  Mexico. 

Miss  Julia  Miller,  Davenport,  la. 

Mrs.  W.  J.  Monro,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Dr.  Lewis  F.  Mott,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

W.  Nelson,  Paterson,  N.  J. 

Miss  Grace  Nicholson,  Pasadena,  Cal. 

Rev.  James  B.  Nies.  Brooklyn.  N.  Y. 

Prof.  G.  R.  Noyes,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Mrs.    Zelia    Nuttall.    Coyoacan,    D.    F., 

Mexico. 
Monsignor  D.  J.  O'Connell.  Richmond.  Va. 
Miss  Orr.  Brooklyn.  N.  Y. 
Harold  Peircc,  Philadelphia.  Pa. 
Dr.  George  H.  Pepper.  Philadelphia.  Pa. 
E.  K.  Putnam.  Davenport.  la. 
Miss  E.  D.  Putnam.  Davenport.  la. 
Dave  Rapoport.  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Ernst  Riess,  New  York.  N.  Y. 
Geza  Roheim.  Budapest.  Hungary. 
N.  L.  Russell,  Shanghai,  China. 
Dr.  E.  Sapir,  Ottawa,  Can. 
Jacob  H.  Schiff,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
J.  P.  Scott,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Prof.  B.  F.  Shambaugh,  Iowa  City,  la. 
J.  B.  Shea,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 
Mrs.  A.  L.  Smitli,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J. 

E.  Reuel  Smith,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Miss  Lauren  P.  Smith,  Warren,  O. 
Leon  H.  Smith,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Otto  C.  Sommerich,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  F.  G.  Speck.  Philadelphia.  Pa. 
Simon  G.  Stein,  Muscatine,  la. 

Mrs.  B.  Wilder  Stone,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Dr.  J.  R.  Swanton,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Benjamin  Thaw,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 
Dr.  H.  K.  Trask,  Bridgcton,  N.  J. 
H.  H.  Vail,  New  York.  N.  Y. 
Lee  J.  Vance,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Paul  Warburg,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
H.  Newell  Wardlc.  Philadelphia.  Pa. 

F.  W.  Waugh,  Toronto,  Can. 

Dr.  David  Webster.  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Prof.  Hutton  Webster,  Lincoln,  Neb. 
Prof.  Raymond  Weeks,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
C.  F.  Will,  Bismarck,  No.  Dak. 
Prof.  C.  B.  Wilson,  Iowa  City,  la. 
Prof.  H.  R.  Wilson,  Athens,  O. 
W.  J.  Wintemberg,  Toronto,  Can. 
Dr.  Clark  Wissler,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Henry  Wood,  Baltimore,  Md. 
J.  M.  Woolsey,  Mt.  Vernon,  N.  Y. 
F.  W.  Wozencraft,  Austin,  Tex. 


Members  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society  379 


LIST  OF  LIBRARIES.  COLLEGES,  AND  SOCIETIES,  SUB- 
SCRIBERS TO  THE  JOURNAL  OF  AMERICAN  FOLK-LORE 
FOR  THE  YEAR  19 12 

Adclbcrt  College,  Cleveland,  O. 

American  Geographical  Society,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

American  Philosophical  Society,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Amherst  College,  Amherst,  Mass. 

Athena?um  Library,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Boston  Athena'um,  Boston,  Mass. 

Canadian  Institute,  Toronto,  Can. 

Carnegie  Free  Library,  Allegheny,  Pa. 

Carnegie  Free  Librarj',  Atlanta,  Ga. 

Carnegie  Free  Library,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

Carnegie  Library,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 

Chicago  Teachers'  College,  Chicago,  111. 

City  Library,  Manchester,  N.  H. 

City  Library,  Springfiell,  Mass. 

Columbia  L'niversity,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Dartmouth  College,  Hanover,  N.  H. 

Delaware  County  Institute  of  Science,  Media,  Pa. 

Drake  L'niversity  Library,  Des  Moines,  la. 

Education  Department,  Toronto.  Can. 

Enoch  Pratt  Free  Library.  Baltimore,  Md. 

Fairbanks  Libraiy,  Terre  Haute,  Ind. 

Forbes  Library,  Northampton.  Mass. 

Free  Library  of  Philadelphia,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Free  Public  Library,  Evanston,  111. 

Free  Public  Library,  Jersey  City,  N.  J. 

Free  Public  Library,  Louisville,  Ky. 

Free  Public  Library,  Lynn,  Mass. 

Free  Public  Library,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Free  Public  Library,  San  Diego,  Cal. 

Free  Public  Library,  San  Josf-,  Cal. 

Free  Public  Library,  Stockton,  Cal. 

Free  Public  Library,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Geological  Survey  of  Canada,  Ottawa,  Can. 

Grand  Serial  Library,  Weimar,  Germany. 

Hackley  Public  Library.  Muskegon,  Mich. 

Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

High  School.  Gloversville,  N.  Y. 

Historical  Library  <if  I-'oreign  Missions,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Houston  Lyci'um  and  Carnegie  Library,  Houston,  Tex. 

Hoyt  Library,  Saginaw,  Mich. 

Indiana  ."^tate  Normal  Schof)l,  Tcrre  Haute,  Ind. 

The  John  Crerar  Library,  Chicago,  III. 

Jolms  Hopkins  University.  Baltimore,  Md. 

Legislative  Reform  Bureau,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Lcland  Stanford,  Jr..  Inivcrsity.  Palo  Alto,  Cal. 

Library  Company  of  Philadelphia,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Library  of  Congress.  Washington,  D.  C. 

Library.  Normal  .S<h<K)l,  Toronto,  Can. 

Library  of  Parliament,  Ottawa,  Can. 

Librarian  -Supreme  Council.  A.  A.  S.  Rile  33,  Waahinglon,  D.  C. 

Marietta  College  Library,  Marietta,  O. 

Mechanics'  Library,  Alt<K>nn.  Pa. 

Mercantile  Liltrary.  St.  Louis.  Mo. 

Mesa  U'nion  High  ScIkkiI.  Mesa,  Cal. 

Newberry  Library.  ChiraK<'.  HI. 

NcMTton  Free  Library,  Newton,  Mass. 


380  Journal  of  American  Folk- Lore 

Normal  School  Library,  Chicago,  111. 
Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Peabody  Institute,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Peabody  Museum,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Philippines  Library.  Manila,  P.  I. 
Pratt  Institute,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Public  Library,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Public  Library,  Boston,  Mass. 
Public  Library,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Public  Library,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 
Public  Library,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Public  Library,  Chicago,  111. 
Public  Library,  Cincinnati,  O. 
Public  Library,  Cleveland,  O. 
Public  Library,  Decatur,  111. 
Public  Library,  Denver,  Col. 
Public  Library,  Des  Moines,  la. 
Public  Library,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Public  Library,  Fall  River,  Mass. 
Public  Library,  Fort  Worth,  Tex. 
Public  Library,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 
Public  Library,  Haverhill,  Mass. 
Public  Library,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 
Public  Library,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
Public  Library,  Lexington,  Ky. 
Public  Library,  Long  Beach,  Cal. 
Public  Library,  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 
Public  Library,  Maiden.  Mass. 
Public  Library,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Public  Library,  New  Bedford,  Mass. 
Public  Library,  New  London,  Conn. 
Public  Library,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Public  Library,  Omaha,  Neb. 
Public  Library,  Peoria,  111. 
Public  Library,  Portland,  Me. 
Public  Library,  Providence,  R.  I. 
Public  Library,  Rockford,  111. 
Public  Library,  Sacramento,  Cal. 
Public  Library,  St.  Joseph,  Mo. 
Public  Librarj',  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Public  Library,  St.  Paul,  Minn. 
Public  Library,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Public  Library,  Seattle,  Wash. 
Public  Library,  Spokane,  Wash. 
Public  Library,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Public  Library,  Toronto,  Can. 
Public  Library,  Warren,  O. 
Public  Library,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Reference  Library,  Toronto,  Can. 
Reynolds  Library,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
State  Historical  Library,  Madison,  Wis. 
State  Historical  Library,  St.  Paul,  Minn. 
State  Historical  Library.  Topeka,  Kan. 
State  Library,  Albany,  N.  Y. 
State  Library,  Augusta,  Me. 
State  Library,  Boston,  Mass. 
State  Library,  Columbus,  O. 
State  Library,  Des  Moines,  la. 
State  Library,  Harrisburg,  Pa. 
State  Library,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 
State  Library,  Lansing,  Mich. 
State  Library,  Pullman,  Wash. 
State  Library,  Sacramento,  Cal. 
State  Normal  School,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
State  Normal  School,  Spearfish,  So.  Dak. 
Swarthmore  College,  Swarthmore,  Pa. 


Members  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society 


381 


Trinity  College,  Hartford,  Conn. 

University  Club,  Chicago,  111. 

University  Club,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  III. 

University  of  Illinois,  Urbana,  111. 

University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  la. 

University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 

University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

University  of  South  Carolina,  Columbia,  S.  C. 

University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Tex. 

University  of  Washington,  Seattle,  Wash. 

Washington  and  Jefferson  Memorial  Library,  Washington,  Pa. 

Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Wellesley  College,  Wellesley,  Mass. 

Western  Illinois  State  Normal  School,  Macomb,  111. 

Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 


382 


Journal  oj  American  Folk-Lore 


SUBSCRIBERS  TO  THE   PUBLICATION   FUND    (1912) 


Mr.  Chas.  P.  Bowditch. 
Miss  Ellen  Chase. 
Mrs.  Alice  M.  Childs. 
Mr.  C.  H.  Clark,  Jr. 
Mr.  George  E.  Dimock. 
Prof.  R.  B.  Dixon. 
Mrs.  Henry  Draper. 
Miss  Emma  J.  Fitz. 
Mr.  Marshall  H.  Gould. 
Mrs.  John  M.  Graham. 
Miss  Eleanor  Hague. 
Miss  Maie  Bartlett  Heard. 
Miss  Amelia  B.  Hollenback. 


Miss  Louise  Kennedy. 
Mr.  Walter  Learned. 
Mr.  Edward  Lindsey. 
Mrs.  John  L.  McNeil. 
Mr.  Albert  Matthews. 
Miss  Sophie  Moen. 
Dr.  Chas.  Peabody. 
Mr.  Harold  Pierce. 
Prof.  F.  W.  Putnam. 
Miss  Laura  P.  Smith. 
Mr.  S.  G.  Stein. 
Mr.  John  B.  Stetson,  Jr. 


INDEX  TO  VOLUME  XXV 


Africa,  36.  37,  106-124. 

Age  grades,  36. 

Age  societies,  33.  34,  36. 

Ainu    Folk-Lore.     72-86.     See    Pilsudski, 
Bronislas. 

Alvarez,  Antonio  Machado  y,  cited,  196,  227. 

American  Folk-Lore  Society: 

Annual  Meeting  of,  191 1,  i;  papers  pre- 
sented at  annual  meeting  of,  191 1,  24; 
Twenty-Third  Annual  Meeting,  87-92; 
discussion  of  establishment  of  inde- 
pendent quarterly  of  bibliography,  87 
(see  also  Editor's  report);  papers  read,  87; 
report  of  Secretary,  88;  report  of  Treas- 
urer, 88-89;  report  of  Editor  of  Journal, 
89-91;  election  of  officers,  91;  special 
meeting  of  Council  relating  to  quarterly 
of  bibliography,  91-92;  List  of  Officers 
and  Members,  375-382. 

Americanists,      Nineteenth      International 
Congress  of,  1914.  373-374- 

Ames,  Mrs.  L.  D.,  cited,  19,  268. 

Animals  in  folk-lore  and  myth: 

Alligator,  47,  48,  207,  208,  260;  ant,  204, 
252;  antelope,  122-124,  249;  ape.  284; 
bear,  44,  49,  60,  61,  76,  78,  94,  104,  250, 
254.  289,  290,  322,  350,  351.  360,  361 
(see  grizzly  bear);  beaver,  298-300,  333; 
bees.  237,  260;  beetle,  61;  bird,  50,  62, 
63,  79,  104;  bluebird,  53,  270;  bluejay. 
317.  318.  324;  buffalo.  43-46;  buzzard, 
104;  calf,  203,  228;  cat,  219,  220,  252; 
cattle  (fat  and  lean),  216,  217,  252; 
chicken,  247;  chimpanzee,  iii,  112; 
civet-cat,  iio,  113,  1 14;  cockroach.  113. 
114.  207,  208;  coon,  126,  127;  cow,  129, 
230;  cow-tick,  129;  coyote,  95-99,  103, 
200-203,  205-207.  336-238,  247,  257, 
260.  290,  304-309.  327.  350.  357.  358. 
368;  crane,  337,  367;  crow,  79.  315,  317, 
3J8,  354;  cuckoo,  134;  deer,  253,  313. 
358.  359,  3^>6.  369;  deer  (buck).  305, 
312,  32K,  329;  dovil-bird,  73;  dog,  50. 
52,  64,  65,  93.  112,  118,  120.  1 24-1 20. 
308.  226,  247.  251-353,  316.  366;  donkey, 
310;  dove,  194.  198,  228;  duck,  55,  56; 
eagle,  43.  56,  93,  94,  256,  29*;.  300,  308. 
318  321,  329,  369.  371;  earth-worm,  96; 
elephant,  106-109,  iii,  118.  121 -133; 
fawn.  312.  325.  336,  i<n);  fiMh.  63.  69,  81. 
2y4  3gK.  303.  303,  354;  fiHh-hawk,  396; 
flea,  300,  303,  334;  fly,  56;  fowl,  113, 
114;  fox,  48,  49.  53-56,  58,  64.  65.  78. 
79.  "5.  137.  138,  130  133.  194.  >9S. 
203.  348,  34g,  385,  386;  frog,  44.  so.  54, 
118,    119.    133,    191.    193.   349.   398,   399, 


318.  362.  363,  370;  genet,  no;  goat. 
359;  gopher,  249;  gorilla,  in,  112; 
grizzly  bear,  289.  304-306.  321-323; 
grouse.  305;  hare,  78,  79;  hawk.  318,  319; 
hen,  208,  230,  heron,  367;  horse,  173- 
175.  194,  195.  209.  230,  256.  359;  hum- 
ming-bird. 98;  insect.  314;  jay-bird,  127, 
128;  kid.  253;  kingfisher,  306;  ksop 
(bird),  52.  S3;  leopard,  H3-119;  lion. 
60.  200.  203.  208.  209,  247;  hzard, 
115.  251,  367;  locust,  260;  loon,  334, 
335.  338.  339;  louse,  300.  301,  324.  366; 
lynx,  339;  marten,  351;  meadow-lark, 
309,  322;  mink,  289,  292,  293.  353.  354; 
mocking-bird,  127,  128;  monkey.  114. 
228,  253;  monkey  (of  wax),  204,  235,  236; 
moose,  69;  mosciuito.  219,  311,312;  mouse. 

44,  219,  220,  252.  320;  mule,  224,  225; 
muskrat,  327;  mussel,  79;  opossum.  130- 
133,  246,  260;  otter.  73;  owl,  72,  134.  135. 
314-316,  369,  371;  ox,  252,  253;  pangolin, 
120;  parrot,  252;  pony,  45;  porcupine,  108, 
123,  124,  358-360;  porpoise,  290;  puma. 
246;  pups.  316;  python.  119;  rabbit,  49. 
94, 125-133,  200-202,  204-210,  214,  235- 
238,  260;  rabbit  (graveyard),  134; 
raccoon,  284;  rat.  108,  252;  rattlesnake, 
58,  59.  96.  97.  134  (graveyard);  raven,  43. 

45,  297,  298,  300-303.  317.  318.  356. 
357;  red-bird.  43;  reindeer,  44,  78; 
rooster.  210.  330;  sable.  75.  76;  salmon. 
81.  294-296,  303-305.  320.  322,  323.  325, 
346;  sea-bear,  75;  sea-gull,  300-303; 
seal.  75-78,  289;  8<>a-li()n.  75,  79.  80; 
sea-otter,  73;  sea-snake,  16;  serjient, 
209,  210,  251;  sheep,  359;  skunk,  44,  93, 
94;  snail,  253,  317,  340;  snake.  58.  97. 
118.  119,  298,  353;  snake  (graveyard). 
133;  spider.  51,  96,  308,  309;  »<iuirrel, 
112;  steer,  209.  220;  stork.  54;  swan.  256. 
306.  367;  terrapin.  128-130.  249;  tiger. 
136.  137.  341  343,  348;  toad,  314.  238, 
363;  tortoise,  106,  107,  114-11Q,  134, 
34(j;  trout,  138.  354;  turkey.  137;  turn- 
head,  79;  turtle.  349.  353;  viijcr,  I13; 
wasp.  306.  360;  water-ouzel.  305,  306. 
310;  weaitcl,  393;  whi|>-i>oor-will,  103; 
whitclish,  395;  wolf,  128,  I3g,  350, 
360,  313.  314.  346-349.  351;  wixKlfKJckcr, 
98;  worm.  97.  lys,  196,  300.  303;  wren. 
3''  3 '4;  ya-clie-wol  (underground  ani- 
mal). 54- 

Ankcrmann,  B..  36. 
Ap|>ala('hian  region.  137.  i6q. 
Arapahc)  Talr!».  43   50.     See  Volh.  It.  K. 
Archarological  objccta.  antiquity  of,  40. 


383 


384 


Index 


Arivau,  L.  Giner,  cited,  251. 

"Arrow-medicine,"  46. 

Art,  peculiar  style  of,  in  eye-ornament  of 

Northwestern  America,  40. 
Art-forms,  influence  of  traditional,  29. 
Australia,  40-42. 

Babylon,  41. 

Backus,  Emma  M.,  cited,  19. 

Backus,  E.  M.,  and  Leitner,  E.  H.,  Negro 
Tales  from  Georgia,  125-136: 
When  Brer  Rabbit  saw  Brer  Dog's 
Mouth  so  Brer  Dog  can  Whistle,  125- 
126;  Bro'  Rabbit  an'  de  Water-Millions, 
126-127;  Bro'  Fox  an'  de  Foolish  Jay- 
Bird,  127-128;  When  Brer  Rabbit  help 
Brer  Terapin.  128-130;  When  Brer 
'Possum  attend  Miss  Fox's  House-Party, 
130-131;  How  Brer  Fox  dream  he  eat 
Brer  'Possum,  131-133;  Superstition 
of  the  Graveyard  Snake  and  Rabbit, 
133-134;  Why  Mr.  Owl  can't  sing,  134- 
135;  The  Negro's  Superstition  of  the 
Spanish  Moss,  13S-136. 

Balladry  in  America,  1-23.  See  Belden, 
H.  M. 

Ballads,  American,  188;  note  on  publication 
of,  23. 

Bancroft,  H.  H.,  cited,  95- 

Barry,  Phillips,  American  Ballads,  188: 
Fair  Charlotte,  188;  Jealous  Lover,  188; 
Casey  Jones,  188. 

Barry,  Phillips,  William  Carter,  the  Ben- 
sontown  Hermit,  156-168: 
Biographical  sketch  of  William  Carter, 
156-157;  The  Orphan's  Dream,  158; 
Fair  Charlotte,  158-162;  The  Frozen 
Girl,  162-164;  significance  of  "Fair 
Charlotte"  as  a  species  of  folk-song, 
164-165;  acquired  characteristics  of 
Carter's  ballad,  with  illustrations,  165- 
167;  on  communal  re-creation  and 
iteration  in  the  Carter  ballad  and  in  the 
ancient  British  ballad,  167-168. 

Barry,  Phillips,  Some  Aspects  of  Folk- 
Song.  274-283: 

House-Carpenter,  274-275;  ballad  of 
introspection,  275-276;  ballad  of  situ- 
ation, 27s;  Minister's  Lamentation,  276; 
Cowboy's  Lament,  277;  Maiden's  La- 
ment, 277;  Lone  Prairie,  278;  Ocean 
Burial,  278-280;  Come  back  to  Erin, 
280;  Bachelor's  Complaint,  281;  Melo- 
dies, 282-283. 

Barry,  Phillips,  cited,  i,  2,  5,  10,  13,  16, 
20-22. 

Bascom,  L.  R.,  cited,  3.  16. 

Bayliss,  Clara  Kern,  cited,  253. 

Bayly,  Thomas  H.,  cited,  188. 

Beatty,  Arthur,  cited,  4,  142. 

Belden,  H.  M.,  Balladry  in  America,  1-23: 
Importance  of  co-operative  collection 
of  traditional  song,  i;  progress  made  in 
collecting  since  completion  of  Child's 
work,  2-4;  analysis  of  Missouri  col- 
lection,   5-17;    "Young    Johnny."    7-8; 


"The  Wicked  Girl,"  18-19;  problems 
suggested  for  investigation,  19-23;  publi- 
cation of  ballads,  23. 

Belden,  H.  M.,  and  Kittredge,  G.  L.,  Five 
Old-Country  Ballads,  1 71-178: 
Andy  Bardan,  171-173;  The  Gyptian 
Laddie,  173-175;  Bangum  and  the 
Boar,  175-176;  Shipwreck,  176-177; 
Captain  Ward,  177-178. 

Belden,  Henry  M.,  cited,  158,  162,  164, 
171,  278,  279. 

Benfey,  Theodor,  cited,  253. 

"Big-Finger,"  244. 

Bigney,  Mrs.  {nee  Ellen  Langille),  cited, 
182,  183,  186. 

Biro,  cited,  37. 

Birth,  manner  of  giving,  taught,  295,  36S. 

Blount,  Alma,  cited,  171,  177. 

Boas,  Franz,  Introductory  Note  to  Teit's 
Traditions  of  the  Lillooet  Indians, 
288-292: 

Lillooet  folk-lore  an  aid  in  tracing  dissemi- 
nation of  tales,  288;  relationship  of  myths 
and  tales  among  all  coast  tribes,  288;  sub- 
division of  tribes  in  interior  and  on  coast, 
288;  views  corroborated  by  conversation 
with  an  elderly  Lillooet,  289-290;  abbrevi- 
ations used,  290-291. 

Boas,  Franz,  Notes  on  Mexican  Folk-Lore, 
204-260,  374. 

Folk-Lore  of  Pochutla,  Oaxaca,  204- 
235:  Tale  of  the  Rabbit,  204-214; 
Rabbit  and  Toad,  214-215;  God,  215- 
219;  Long-Legs,  219-222;  Charcoal- 
Burner,  222-223;  Devil,  223-226;  Dead, 
226-227;  Riddles,  227-231;  Songs,  231- 
233;  Decimas,  233-235. — Tale  of  Coyote 
and  Rabbit  of  the  Chatino,  Oaxaca, 
235-241.  —  Tales  from  Tehuantepec, 
241-246:  Juan  Tigre,  241-245;  Rascal, 
245-246.  —  Notes  on  the  Folk-Lore  of 
Tepoztlan,  246-247:  Puma  and  Opossum, 
246-247;  Lion,  Coyote,  and  Wood- 
Chopper,  247.  —  Comparative  Notes, 
247-260:  Distribution  of  tales  of  the 
animal  cycle,  248-249;  European  paral- 
lels of  American  tales,  251-253;  Spanish 
origin  of  Philippine  and  American  folk- 
lore, 253;  aboriginal  American  and  Afri- 
can folk-lore  differentiated,  254;  Spanish 
influence  on  folk-lore  of  North-American 
Indians,  254-260;  "John  the  Bear,"  254- 
255;  "Underground  Journey,"  255;  Sna- 
naz  stories,  255-257;  Uncle  Remus  stories 
alien  to  New  England,  259;  foreign  influ- 
ence on  folk-lore  of  Northwestern  Indians, 
259-260;  Preuss  on  the  Cora,  260. — Por- 
tuguese parallel  to  Oaxaca  tale,  374. 

Boas,  Franz,  on  Graebner's  "Methode  der 
Ethnologic,"  31. 

Boas,  Franz,  cited,  38.  39,  260,  290-296, 
298,  299,  301,  302,  304,  305,  307,  309, 
311,  316,  317.  319.  322-324,  327,  334, 
335.  339.  340,  350. 

Bogoras,  W.,  cited,  334. 

Braun,  F.  A.,  cited,  147. 


Index 


38s 


Brazilian     Songs,     1 79-181.     See     Hague, 

Eleanor. 
British  ballads  in  America,  i. 
Broadhead,  G.  C,  cited,  175. 
Broadsides,  20,  22,  151,  168,  187. 
Brown,  Allen  A.,  cited,  282. 
Bulu   Tales  from   Kamerun,  West  Africa, 

106-124.     See  Krug,  Adolph  N. 
Burial-sites  on  Yukon  River,  66. 

Caballero,  Fernan,  cited,  227. 
Cannibals,  48,  102,  307,  333,  334,  365. 
Card-playing  tabooed,  268. 
Carter,  William,  the  Bensontown  Homer, 

156-168.     See  Barry,  Phillips. 
Carter,  William  L.,  cited,  188. 
Casa  Blanca,  legend  concerning,  56-59. 
Chamberlain,  A.  F.,  cited,  258. 
Chapin,  E.  N.,  cited,  278. 
Chapman,  John  W.,  The  Happy  Hunting- 

Ground  of  the  Ten'a,  66-71. 
Chatelain,  Heli,  cited,  250,  254. 
Coelho,  F.  Adolpho,  cited,  251,  252. 
Cold  and  ice,  reign  of,  limited,  311. 
Combs,  J.  H.,  cited,  3. 
Copper  distributed,  344. 
Conneely,  Paddy,  cited,  282. 
Cosquin,  E.,  cited,  251,  258. 
Craddock,  stories  of,  cited,  138. 
Creation  myths,  38,  95-99,  m,  188,  189. 
Cumberland  Mountains,  2,  3. 
Cushing,  Frank  Hamilton,  cited,  249,  253. 

Dakota,  93,  158,  188. 

Dances: 

Animal,  115;  fish-dance  of  the  Karaya, 
30;  marriage-dance  of  the  Bulu,  114; 
star-dance,  36;  sun-dance,  32;  war- 
dance  of  the  Gros  Ventre,  36. 

Dancing,     how     regarded     by     religiously 
inclined,  143,  268. 

Davidson,  cited,  95. 

Dawson,  George  M.,  cited,  290,  292. 

Daylight,  entrance  of,  into  world,  301. 

Dead,   beliefs  and  customs  regarding,   71, 
72,  81;  restored  to  life,  332. 

Death,  beliefs  regarding,  97,  133;  brought 
.  into  the  world,  356. 

Deception  (Bulu),  107,  112;  story  of,  122. 

Devil.     See  .Supernatural. 

Dixon,  Roland  B..  cited,  249. 

Dorsey,  George  A.,  cited,  249,  305. 

Dorscy,  J.  Own.  cited,    t^,  4J.   249,   257, 
258,  323. 

Dreams,  28,  29. 

Drum,  African,  36;  "hourglass,"  37. 

Duvall,  D.  C,  cited.  258. 

Edmunds,  L.  W.,  cited,  2. 
Edwards,  Charles  L.,  cited,  250. 
Ehrenreich,  Dr.,  criticism  of.  by  Gracbner, 

25-31;  "false  analogies"  of,  33-34,  40; 

on  convergence,  41. 
England,  172,  177,  183. 
Ernst,  A.,  cited,  247,  248. 
Espinosa,  Aurclio  M.,  cited.  248,  249.  251. 


Ethnology,  on  the  Principle  of  Convergence 

in,  24-42.     See  Lou-ie,  Robert  H. 
Evans,  J.  H.,  cited,  156. 
Exogamy.  30,  34. 
Eye-ornament,  40,  41. 

Famine,  among  forest  animals,  118;  Bulu 
story  of,  116,  117. 

Farrand,  Livingston,  cited,  257,  291,  294, 
295.  305.  316. 

Feasts,  "Parka,"  of  the  Eskimo,  70,  71; 
of  the  Ten'a,  66,  70;  of  the  Lillooet, 
337.  344.  358.  359.  367. 

Fetishes,  no. 

Finsch,  O.,  cited,  37, 

Fire,  possession  of,  302;  price  of,  303. 

Fish,  manner  of  catching  and  eating, 
taught,  296. 

Fish-trap,  first  use  of,  354. 

F"lores,  Eliodoro,  cited,  227. 

Folk-music,  Lydian  mode  in,  283. 

Folk-Poetry.  See  Barry.  Phillips;  Belden, 
H.  M.;  Boas,  Franz  (pp.  231-235);  Hague, 
Eleanor;  Mackenzie,  W.  Roy;  Peabody, 
Charles;  Perrow,  E.  C;  Wedgwood,  Har- 
riet L. 

Folk-Song,  Aspects  of,  274-283.  See 
Barry,  Phillips. 

Fortier,  Alcee,  cited,  250,  251. 

Fox,  novels  of,  cited,  138. 

Frost,  Helen  Keith,  Two  Abnaki  Legends, 
188-190: 

Creation  Myth,  188-189;  Origin  of  Vege- 
tation, 189-190. 

Fulton,  R.  L,  cited,  278. 

Funerals,  customs  of  Southern  mountain 
folk  regarding,  140. 

Future  existence,  beliefs  of  primitive  races 
regarding,  66. 

Galton,  Francis,  cited,  29. 

Gambler,  Lillooet  story  of,  338-339. 

Games : 

Dance,  269,  271.  273;  head-rolling,  62. 
63;  kissing,  271,  272;  lehal.  319,  338, 
339;  racing.  214,  215;  racing  with  wooden 
ball.  100;  shooting  arrows,  350;  stick- 
game,  60;  wrestling-matches,  106. 

Gardner,  Fletcher,  cited,  251. 

Georgia.  Negro  Tales  from,  125-136.  See 
Backus  and  Leitner. 

Gerber.  A.,  cited.  253. 

Ghost.     Sec  Supernatural. 

God.  Mexican  folk-tale  of.  215  J17.  220; 
of  Buhl  mythology.  1 1 1. 

(iodclard.  Pliny  Karle,  cited.  249. 

Goldenweiscr.  A.  A.,  Di-ath  of  Andrew 
I.an«,  372  373. 

Goldenweiser,  A.  A.,  34.  37. 

Gomes,  cited,  39. 

Graebncr,  F.,  "  Mcthode  der  Ethnolo- 
gic" 31.  40;  on  exogamy,  34;  on  the 
skin  drum,  37;  position  of,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  convergent  evolution,  24-31. 

Graebner.  Dr..  cited.  24-26.  40.  41. 
I   GracbiuT  and  the  two-phratry  system,  35. 


386 


Index 


Graves,    animal,    117,    118,    127;    of    the 

Ten'a,  66. 
Grossman,  F.  E.,  cited,  95. 
Guardian  spirits,  72,  73. 
Gummere,  Professor,  cited,  19. 

Haberlandt,  cited,  26,  27. 

Hague,  Eleanor,  Brazilian  Songs,  179-181: 
Nasci  para  ti  amar,  179;  Meu  anjo  es- 
cuta,  179-180;  Tormentos  da  vida,  180- 
181;  Oh,  fonte  que  estas  chorando!  181. 

Hague,  Eleanor,  Mexican  Folk-Songs,  261- 
267: 

Source  and  description  of  songs,  261 ;  Pre- 
guntale,  261-262;  Un  Adios,  262;  Jarabe 
Mixteca,  263;  Las  Tristas  Horas,  263- 
264;  La  India,  264-265;  Tecolote,  265; 
El  Clavel,  265-266;  Las  Maiianitas,  266; 
Por  ti  Respira,  266-267;  La  Mulata,  267. 

Hahn,  J.  G.  von,  cited,  255. 

Hamilton,  Miss  G.  M.,  cited,  174,  176. 

Harris,  Joel  Chandler,  cited,  250,  259. 

Hartt,  Charles  P..  cited,  247. 

Heaven,  Ainu,  85,  86. 

Herrick,  Mrs.  R.  F.,  cited,  4. 

Hill-Tout,    Charles,   cited,     288,     290-292, 

294.  296,  298-302,  304-307.  310,  313, 
314,  316,  322, 327,  332,  336.  338,  340,  350. 

Hogan,  D.,  cited,  174. 

House,    Ainu,    85;    log  cabin  of   Southern 

mountaineers,  137-138;  Papago,  loi. 
Hudson,  Henry,  cited,  282. 
Hunt,   George,  cited,   291,   298,   301,   302, 

319.  322. 

Inanimate  objects  in  folk-lore  and  myth: 
Adobe,  56;  altar,  193,  216,  217,  226; 
anus,  312,  325;  apron,  359;  arrows,  44, 
74.  no,  259,  326,  345,  350;  arrow-head, 
348,  365,  368;  arrow-stick,  353;  arrow- 
wood,  297,  352;  ashes,  46,  197,  198; 
awl,  301;  axe,  79,  in,  255;  back-bones, 
353;  back-fat,  305,  352,  362,  365;  back- 
side, 205,  206,  236-238,  312;  bag,  200- 
202,  247,  250;  baking-plate,  230;  ball, 
51,  100;  banjo,  125,  143;  barrel,  284; 
basket,  62,  294,  304,  306,  308,  309,  311, 
330.  345;  beak,  79,  357;  bear-meat,  81, 
82;  bear-skin,  343,  349;  beaver-spears, 
362;  beaver-tails,  343;  bed,  57,  131; 
bell,  243,  255,  258,  260;  belly,  294,  358, 
368;  belt,  123,  198,  358;  bill,  335;  bladder, 
78,  334;  blanket,  13,  14,  59,  160,  163, 
297.  332,  343.  355.  363;  blanket  (magic), 

320,  321;  blood-stains,  336;  board,  48, 
320;  boat,  76,  77,  79,  80;  body,  318,  323, 
340;  bones,  57,  59,   112,   127,   128.   132, 

295.  305.  307.  344.  345.  348.  362,  367. 
370;  boots,  196,  197;  bottle  of  wine. 
224;  bow,  74,  351;  bow  (musical),  259; 
bow  and  arrow,  43,  62,  63,  308,  323,  328, 
343.  361,  365,  369;  box,  256,  301,  337, 
340;  brains,  327,  370;  branch-wife,  309, 
310,  357;  breastplate,  319;  brecch-clout, 

296.  362;  brush,  197,  198;  bullet,  8,  9, 
44;  bundle,  345,  367;  buttocks,  312,  325; 
cakes,  222;"candle,  226;  canoe,  70,  256, 


293-295.  317.  318,  338.  339.  342.  352, 
365.  370;  canoe  (double-headed),  321; 
chains,  12;  chair,  57;  charcoal,  340; 
cheese,  64,  65,  202,  203,  206,  238,  260; 
chicken-bone,  192;  chips,  317;  chisel, 
349;  church,  224;  clam-shell,  299,  300; 
claws,  242,  322;  clothing,  69,  192,  193, 
245,  362;  coffin,  231;  comb,  197,  198; 
copper,  338,  343,  344;  corpse,  194; 
crack,  247,  349;  cradle,  206,  302,  329; 
crowbar,  245;  cudgel,  196,  197;  cutlass, 
109,  in;  dam,  299,  304,  321;  deer-meat, 
349,  361,  363;  deer-skin,  307,  343,  360, 
364;  deer-thong,  368;  deer-track,  329; 
den,  360,  361;  dentalia,  358-360;  dish, 
82,  303,  304;  dog-skins,  316;  doll-baby, 
200-202;  down,  344,  370;  drum,  114, 
drum  (war),  93;  eagle-feather,  45,  321; 
ears,  204-206,  244,  245;  egg,  47,  134, 
231.  307;  excrement,  82,  297,  304,  308, 
317.  352;  excretion,  226;  eyes,  194,  195, 
226,  305,  307,  315,  337;  face,  298,  299, 
315;  face-paint,  301;  facial  paintings,  61; 
fat,  314,  348,  360;  feather,  74,  104,  344, 
370;  fetlock,  359;  fiddle,  134,  135,  143; 
finger,  244,  246,  351;  finger-nail,  334; 
fire-wood,  113,  345,  357;  fish-bones,  354; 
fish-egg,  70;  fish-line,  343;  fish-net,  355; 
fish-spear,  345;  fish-trap,  354,  355; 
fist,  243;  flannel  (red),  134;  flesh,  258, 
345,  348,  362;  food.  78.  8s,  109.  114. 
303,  363,  369;  foot,  200,  205,  219,  236,- 
301,  353.  362;  footprint,  296,  316;  fore- 
head, 192,  193;  fore-leg,  324;  fringe,  297, 
355;  frog-skins,  362;  garters,  256; 
gesture,  246;  glass  (mirror),  176;  goat- 
hair,  308,  341,  343;  goat-skin,  297,  341; 
gold,  84,  228;  goose-feather,  326;  grease, 
307.  314.  316,  340;  grinding-stone,  56; 
guinea,  222;  guitar,  201,  207,  238;  gun, 
45,  66;  hair,  80,  in,  135,  195.  259,  294, 
317.  319.  343.  347.  361.  365.  370;  halter, 
244;  hand,  200,  204,  235,  247,  292,  293, 
307,  hand-mark,  340;  hat,  196,  197,  216; 
head  (animal),  115,  255,  306;  head 
(human),  172,  193,  194.  236,  336,  337, 
347.  365,  368;  head  (rolling),  48,  62,  63; 
head  (of  island),  77;  hind-leg,  324;  hole, 
48,  64,  127,  25s,  256,  258,  299,  302,  309. 
323,  366;  horns,  359;  house,  250,  258; 
hut,  215,  223,  242-244,  252;  intestines, 
363,  370;  iron  armor,  82;  iron  cases,  83; 
iron  dish,  85;  iron  pan.  i\\  iron  ring  and 
chain,  85;  iron  stool,  74;  ivory,  109,  113, 
118;  kettle,  295,  351,  366;  kick,  305,  306; 
kilt,  359;  knife,  n,  176,  182,  220.  251. 
252.  294.  312,  313,  335,  338;  knife-edge, 
256;  knot-hole,  357;  ladder,  308,  310; 
leather,  55;  leg,  293,  294,  358;  leg-bone, 
49;  leggings,  358,  362;  letter,  215,  216; 
lips,  312,  313;  liver,  324;  log,  333.  340| 
loin-cloth,  112,  124;  "mango  de  burro," 
193;  marrow,  46,  324;  marrow-grease, 
132,  133;  mat,  316,  318,  332,  359; 
meat,  64,  122,  131,  324,  357;  medicine, 
330,  336,  369;  medicine-arrows,  46; 
medicine-mat,     303;     membrum     virile. 


Index 


387 


324;  moccasin,  358,  366;  money.  64,  215- 
217,   243-246;  mortar.   56;  mouth,   200, 

205.  295,  296,  306.  349.  370;  mud,  44. 
53.  57.  362,  363;  nails.  336;  napkin,  215; 
navel,  328,  335;  neck.  225,  295;  necklace, 
359;  net,  205,  236.  334;  noose.  224,  225; 
nose,  254,  306;  organs  (woman's),  292, 
293;  oven,  230,  306;  paddle.  302;  paint. 
48, 293.  349.  35Q;  paunch.  366;  paw,  361 ; 
peg,  208;  pillow.  354;  pin.  133.  193.  194; 
pine-needles.  197;  pistol.  154;  pit,  116, 
119;  pitch,  228,  370;  pitch-smoke,  359; 
poison,  93;  pole.  216.  242.  256.  305;  pot 
of  boiling  water.  82.  205.  236;  pot  of 
coin.  243;  pot  of  tepache.  224;  privates. 
3".  336.  359;  prow.  321;  quiver,  74, 
345-  365.  366;  race,  293;  rafter,  209,  236; 
railroad.  19.  186;  rattle.  344;  rectum. 
323;  riches.  113.  121;  ring.  182.  245.  256; 
roast,  216.  217;  robe,  298,  344,  353; 
robe  (magic).  355;  rock,  129,  237,  242, 
246.  250.  257.  312,  351;  rocks  (striking), 
216.  217;  rockets,  207,  227,  238,  260; 
rod,  57.  254;  rope,  77.  IQS.  244.  255. 
308;  saliva.  313;  salt,  54;  scissors.  230; 
scratcher.  359;  shavings,  317;  sheep- 
skin, 192.  193;  shin-bone.  226;  shoe.  55. 
193.  362.  363,  366;  shoulder,  333;  signal- 
fire,  359;  silk,  83;  silver,  84,  134;  skeleton, 
243.  346.  364.  369;  skin,  324,  328,  358, 
370;  skull,  243,  331;  sled.  67;  sledge.  78; 
slide,  370;  slow-match.  353;  smoke,  301, 
319.  362.  363;  snare.  353;  snow-shoes. 
66,  69.  293.  358.  365;  soap.  192;  sole. 
332;  soot.  359;  spear.  257.  295.  327.  362; 
spit  (metal).  200-202;  spittle.  352; 
splinter.  324;  spoon.  351;  spur.  285; 
steeple.  243;  stern,  321;  stick,  60.  62, 
68,  78,  104.  219,  252,  253,  294.  303. 
325,  340;  stomach,  203;  stone,  52,  201, 

206.  209,  252,  293-295,  306,  315.  325. 
370;  stone  (blue).  60;  stone  (white),  192; 
strap,  324;  string.  224;  swing.  48; 
switch.  285;  sword.  73.  74.  85;  sword-hilt. 
84;  tail.  195.  236.  257;  teeth.  242.  313. 
334;  thimble.  197;  thong.  248;  thorn. 
59,  301;  throat,  201,  202.  236.  298; 
toad-skin.  362;  toe-nails,  334;  toes,  355; 
tongs,  295;  tfjngue.  228,  258;  tools,  317; 
trail.  251;  trap.  122,  123.  354;  tripe, 
313;  trotters,  313,  326;  trunk,  216; 
trunk  of  tree,  248;  tub,  236;  tump-line, 
309;  twine,  294,  353;  twins,  43;  ulcer, 
217;  urine,  330,  352;  venison.  336.  349. 
359.  364;  waist.  323,  336;  wall,  219,  220. 
252.  253.  337.  3'^>2;  wand,  192,  193; 
watering-place.  321;  weapons.  338.  346; 
wedge.  247.  349;  well.  244.  245;  whip, 
339;  whiskey.  154;  whistle,  367;  wolf- 
skin, 349;  wfKxl,  43,  80,  198,  201.  247. 

"Inati"  of  the  Ainu,  7277. 

Indiana.  4,  14H.  171. 

Inflians, differing  shacles  among.  317. 

International   S<1i(H)1   of   Anirrican   Arrha*- 

ology  and  lu  iiiioinkrv  in  Mcxiro.  kji.  |(><;. 

204. 


Irish  ballads,  cited,  12. 

Jealous  husband,  335,  336,  339.  340. 
Jones.  Charles  C.  cited.  250.  251. 
Jones.  H.  S.  V.,  cited,  4. 

Kentucky,  3,  4,   10,   11,  20,   137.   138,   146, 
153.  171,  188. 

Kerns  family  of  New  Jersey,  177. 

Kittredge,  G.  L.,  cited.  3.  11. 

Kittredge.  G.  L.     See  Belden,  II.  M. 

Kroeber,  A.  L.,  cited.  36,  43,  258,  305,  316. 

Kroeber,  Henriette  Rothschild,  Traditions 
of  the  Papago  Indians,  95-105: 
Outlines  of  the  Creation  Myth,  95-99; 
The  Undecided  Race,  99-102;  Story  of 
the  Wind  and  Rain,  102-105. 

Krug,  Adolph  N.,  Bulu  Tales  from  Kam- 
erun,  West  Africa.  106-124: 
"As  you  contest  in  wrestling,  remember 
the  River  Yom,"  106;  The  Tortoise  and 
the  Elephant.  106-107;  A  Youth  and  his 
Fathcr-in-Law.  108;  The  Son  of  a  Man 
and  the  Son  of  a  Ghost.  108-109;  The 
Two  Hunchbacks,  109-111;  How  Zambe 
created  Man,  the  Chimpanzee,  and  the 
Gorilla,  111-112;  The  Little  Squirrel 
and  the  Viper,  112;  The  Dog  and  the 
Chimpanzee.  112;  The  Two  Brothers, 
113;  The  Story  of  the  Fool.  11 3- 114; 
The  Tortoise  and  the  Monkey.  114;  The 
Tortoise  and  the  Leopard.  11 5-1 16; 
The  Tortoise  and  the  Leopard  quarrel 
about  their  Villages.  116-118;  Three 
Men  who  quarrelled  about  an  Elephant, 
118;  The  Young  Snake  and  the  Young 
Frog,  118-119;  The  Tortoise  and  the 
Leopard  and  the  Python,  i 19-120; 
The  Dog  and  the  Pangolin.  120;  The 
Man  who  died  and  left  Children,  120- 
121;  The  Boy  and  the  Girl,  121-122; 
The  Dunce  who  found  out  Deception, 
122-123;  The  Story  of  the  Hungry 
Elephant,  123;  The  Son-in-Law  and  his 
Father-in-Law.  123-124;  The  Tortoise 
who  waited  for  Toadstools,  124. 

Lang.  Andrew.  Death  of.  372-373. 

Langille.  Edward,  186. 

Langille,  Isaac,  186. 

Langille,  Mrs.  Levi,  182. 

Law,  customs  regarding,  among  Siulhern 

mountain-folk.  141. 
Laws.  Lucy  R..  171. 
Lehmann-Nitsche.  Robert.  252. 
Leitner.  E.  11.      See  Haikus.  )..  M. 
Lenz.  Rudolf,  cited.  247,  248. 
Light.     See  Supernatural. 
LillofK't     Indians     of     British     Columbia, 

Traditions  of   the.    287  370.     See   Boas, 

Franz,  and  7Vi/.  James. 
"Little-Hairy-Body."  243.  255. 
Lotnax.  John  A.,  cited,  3    5.  16.  169. 
Lowie,    Rolxii    II..    On    the    Principle    of 

Convergence  in  Ethnology.  24-42: 

Graebner's  position,  34-26;  logical  stand- 


Index 


ing  of  the  rival  theories,  26-29;  defini- 
tion of  "convergence,"  30-32;  premature 
classification,  32-38;  the  possibility  of 
genuine  convergence,  38-41;  conclusion, 
41-42. 

Lowie,  Robert  H.,  cited,  254,  255,  258,  346. 

Lumholtz,  Carl,  cited,  248,  249. 

Mackenzie,   W.   Roy,   Ballads  from  Nova 

Scotia,  182-187: 

Little  Matha  Grove,  182-183,   186;  The    j 

Greenwood  Siding,  183-184,  186;  Donald 

Munro,   184-185,   187;  The  Lady  of  the 

Lake,  185-187. 
Mackenzie,  W.  Roy,  cited,  2,  19. 
Magic,  51,  93,  109,  no,  192-198,  215-217, 

224-226,    236,    244,    24s,    256,    292-295, 

300,  303,  317,  319,  325,  329,  334,  344- 

347.  349.  353.  355.  361,  362,  365,  367. 
Magic  number,  four,  332,  334,  338,  339; 

seven,  197,  242;  three,  196-198,  244,  298. 
Maine,  158,  164,  188,  189. 
Marden,  C.  C,  cited,  247,  248. 
Marin,  F.  R.,  cited,  227. 
Marriage,  regulation  against,  34;  statistics 

regarding,  35. 
Marriage  customs  of  the  Ainu,  83-85;  of 

the  Bulu,  114;  of  the  Papago,  99, 100, 103; 

of  Southern  mountain-folk,  140,  141. 
Mason,   J.   Alden,   Four   Mexican-Spanish 

Fairy-Tales     from     Azqueltan,     Jalisco, 

191-198: 

Spanish  influence  on  Indian  peoples  of 

Mexico,     191;    Frog-Woman,     191-192; 

Cinder-Mary,     192-194;     Bird     of     the 

Sweet  Song,  194-196;  Story  of  the  Sun 

and  the  Moon,  196-198. 
Mason,  O.  T.,  cited,  40. 
Massachusetts,  2,  13,  158,  162,  166,  167. 
Matthews,  cited,  305,  307. 
Maxfield,  Burton  L.,  cited,  253. 
Means,  C.  E.,  cited,  2. 
Mechling,  William  H.,  Stories  from  Tux- 

tepec,  Oaxaca,  199-203: 

Description  of  Tuxtepec,   199;  obsidian 

rejects,  199;  pottery,  200;  Coyote  Story t 

200-203;  Lion,  203. 
"Medicine,"  44,  45,  93,  140. 
Medicine-men,  46,  93,  102. 
Melanesia,  39,  41,  42. 
Mermen.     See  Supernatural. 
Mexican  Folk-Lore,  Notes  on,  204-260,  374. 

See  Boas,  Franz. 
Mexican  Folk-Songs,  261-267.     See  Hague, 

Eleanor. 
Mexican-Spanish  Fairy-Tales  from  Azquel- 
tan,   Jalisco,     191-198.    See    Mason,    J. 

Alden. 
Mexico,  "Jesse  James"  in,  150. 
Mexico,    Stories   from    Tuxtepec,    Oaxaca, 

199-203.     See  Mechling,  William  H. 
Midewivvin  drum  of  the  Ojibwa,  37. 
Miles,  E.  B.,  cited,  2. 
Miller,  Professor,  cited,  4. 
Millington,  W.  H.,  cited,  253. 


Missouri,  8-10,  13,  14,  19-21,  146-148, 
166,  167,  188. 

Missouri  Folk-Lore  Society,  publications 
of,  3. 

Missouri  River,  93,  156. 

Mississippi,  148,  149,  151-155. 

Modern  Language  Association,  3,  4. 

MoiTett,  Adeline,  cited,  138. 

Moon,  Frog's  sisters  on  face  of,  299. 

Mooney,  James,  cited,  249. 

Mormonism,  156,  157,  159. 

Mourning  customs  of  Ten'a,  66. 

Miiller,  Max,  372. 

Murderer,  first,  357. 

Murphy,  Sandy,  184. 

Music,  study  of,  in  the  ballad,  22. 

Musical  instruments  (drum),  36;  incident 
relating  to  breaking  of,  153. 

Musical  notation: 

Bachelor's  Complaint,  281;  Barbara 
Allen,  282;  Brazilian  Songs,  1 79-1 81; 
Come  back  to  Erin,  280;  Cowboy's 
Lament,  277;  Dawning  of  the  Day,  282- 
283;  Four  Hands  round  in  the  Euchre 
Ring,  273;  House-Carpenter,  274;  Jesse 
James,  145-146;  Juniper- Tree,  272; 
Mexican  Folk-Songs,  261-267;  Miller 
Boj',  269;  Minister's  Lamentation,  276; 
Ocean  Burial,  278,  280;  Old  Dan  Tucker, 
272;  Old  Joe  Clark,  152;  Remember  the 
Poor,  282;  Silver  Dagger,  282;  Skip  to 
my  Lou,  270;  Taterhill,  154;  "The 
White  Captive,"  169;  Up  and  Down  the 
Centre  We  Go,  271;  We're  Marching 
down  to  Old  Quebec,  271. 

Mystery.     See  Supernatural. 

Mythology,  development  of  science  of,  372. 

Names,  acquisition  of,  among  the  Hidatsa, 
93;  given  to  places  in  British  Columbia, 
303;  taking  new,  in  Bulu  story,  106,  107. 

Natural  objects,  phenomena,  etc.,  in  folk- 
lore and  myth: 

Air,  51,  93,  95,  330;  arrow-stone,  348, 
357.  36s;  baby,  52,  58,  173,  175.  183, 
186,  302  (see  infant);  bark,  208,  294, 
306,  368;  beach,  293,  323;  bean-field, 
200,  201;  berries,  317,  318,  322;  berry- 
juice,  318;  birch-bark,  319,  330;  blood, 
11,43,60,  77,  170,  176,311.327.347-349. 
370;  bog,  295;  breeze,  293;  brook,  11, 
222,  250;  butcher,  253;  calm,  293;  cane- 
sugar,  224;  cave,  loi,  104,  122,  242,  252, 
257,  360,  369;  cedar-bark,  295-297, 
316,  339;  cedar-branch,  293;  cedar-wood, 
297;  chasm,  257;  Chinook  wind,  310,  311; 
clay,  306,  313;  cliff,  257,  334;  clouds,  43. 
74,  77,  84,  86,  219,  229,  246,  247,  252; 
cold,  219,  311;  cottonwood-root,  303; 
cowboy,  16;  creek,  299,  303,  309,  329, 
366;  darkness,  51,  95,  96;  dead,  251; 
death,  18,  135,  220,  253,  362;  desert, 
251;  dwarf,  257;  ear  of  corn,  230;  earth, 
51,  95,  96,  98,  189;  Earth-Transposer, 
255;  ebb-tide,  302;  fern-root,  339;  fir- 
branch,  328,  332,  360,  365,  366,  367;  fire. 


Index 


389 


46,  48.  54.  55,  68,  8r,  82,  112,  114.  143. 
201,  202,  220,  238.  252,  299,  300,  302, 
305,  306,  310,  316,  322;  flesh,  176,  370; 
flood,  52-54,  73,  98.  106.  342;  flower, 
229;  fog,  81,  198;  fool,  113,  114;  frog- 
eater,  362,  364;  frog-fat,  362;  frog-meat, 
362,  363;  frost,  2ig,  252;  gale,  320; 
glacier,  310,  311;  gravel,  306,  308; 
gulch,  363.  366;  gum,  305,  306.  315; 
hail,  93,  306,  311;  hawthorn-branch,  301; 
heat,  293.  351,  355;  heat-waves,  loi, 
102;  heaven.  19;  hemp-bark,  343; 
herbs,  330;  hill  (barren  and  grassy), 
216,  217;  hill,  ;i5i;  hive,  260;  honey, 
286;  ice.  69,  78.  79.  306,  311;  icicles,  80; 
infant,  226.  295.  329;  Iron-Head-Man, 
255;  island,  76-78.  325.  326;  lady,  192, 
193;  lake.  191.  202.  203.  256.  293-296, 
306, 333-335.  358.  365.  369.  371 ;  laughter, 
103;  leaves.  207.  209.  242;  light,  74. 
96,  303;  lightning.  155;  lower  world, 
251;  maiden.  195-198.  244.  245;  man, 
12,  51  (see  old  man);  marmot-skin,  336, 
343;  moon,  10,  51.  73,  74.  96.  140,  197, 
206,  238.  250.  299.  350.  353;  moss.  298; 
mountain.  49.  52.  56.  61,  loi.  230.  251, 
253.  293.  342.  352,  358-360,  367,  369; 
naked  woman,  85,  86;  ogre,  255;  old 
man.  215-217.  293,  325,  337,  350;  old 
woman,    196,    197,   200.   201,   202.    205, 

226,  23s.  236.  338.  343-345;  paramour. 
335;  pasture.  252;  pine-needles,  197; 
Pine-Transplanter,  255;  pitch,  315; 
pitch-wood,  306,  314,  341;  Plenty-of- 
Hair,  255;  pond.  57.  99.  206.  250;  prairie, 
278-280;  pregnant  woman.  294;  rain. 
93.    97.    102-105.    252.    299.    302,    307. 

311,  342;  rain  (bloody).  77;  rainbow,  77; 
rapid,  346;  river,  67,  192,  195,  207, 
303.  321.  332.  334.  347;  river  (colored), 
215-217,  252;  Rock-Mover,  255;  roots, 
3«5.  320.  322.  330.  335.  340;  salmon-oil. 
315;  salt.  197.  198;  sea.  7.  16.  75.  195. 
196.  224.  225.  320.  340;  sea-fowl,  279; 
seashore,  78,  79;  sea-snake,  279;  seeds 
(black),  228;  shadow,  293;  shoal,  325; 
sky,  52,  78,  206,  227,  229,  260,  308; 
slave,  319-321;  sleet,  311;  smoke,  63, 
75,  III;  snow.  69,  163,  166,  167,  253, 
293.  304,  326.  346;  snowflake.  310; 
soul,  18,  251;  spatsan-bark.  296;  spawn. 
306;  spines  (of  fruit).  205.  206.  236.  246; 
spring.  19K,  290.  361-363;  spring  (hot), 
304;  star,  51.  96,  192,  193.  229;  sun,  51, 
S7t  93.  96.  97.   170,   196,   197.  219.  220, 

227.  252,  253,  297.  298,  350-355;  swamp, 
327.  362;  sweetheart,  332;  thunder, 
300,  311.  312;  thunder-stone.  349; 
Timber-Hauler.  255;  tree.  247,  259, 
260,    308.    325,    331.    330  341;    trrt-top. 

312.  339;  vegetation.  189.  lyo;  water, 
44,  46-48,  93,  95-^99.  104.  Ill,  220, 
238,  248.  252.  253.  260,  290.  295.  299. 
321.  323.  324.  346,  3<''6.  367.  370  ("M^ 
pol  of  boiling  water,  fitmd,  and  pond)', 
wave.    196,    293;    wax.    196;    web.    348; 


web-fat.  366;  wet  wood.  310;  whirlpool, 
299;  wind.  43,  97,  102-105,  '63,  166, 
176,  197,  219,  220,  251-253.  256,  257. 
320;  wing.  193.  321;  woman,  12  (see 
naked  woman,  old  woman,  pregnant 
womanj;  wood-chopper.  247;  Wood- 
Twister,  255;  world.  201.  206,  227. 
248,  308.  311  (see  lower  world). 

Nauvoo  riots.  157. 

Neff,  Mary  L.,  Pima  and  Papago  Legends, 
51-65: 

How  the  Earth  was  made,  51-52; 
Origin  Legend.  52-53;  The  Fox's  Jour- 
ney, 53-54;  Ya-che-wol,  54-55;  The  Fox 
and  the  Ducks.  55-56;  The  Eagle.  56; 
Casa  Blanca,  56-59;  The  Transformed 
Grandmother.  59-60;  An  Old  Woman 
and  her  Grandsons.  60-61;  The  Brothers, 
61-63;  The  First  White  Men  seen.  63- 
64;  The  Dog  who  befriended  a  Fox,  64- 

65. 

Negro  Tales  from  Georgia,  125-136.     See 
Backus,  E.  M.,  and  Leitner,  E.  H. 

Neoliths.  40,  41. 

Nery.  F.  J.  de  Santa  Anna,  cited.  247. 

Net  for  fishing,  use  of.  taught.  294. 

Newell,  W.  W.,  cited.  4.  13.  253. 

New  England.  4.  16,  20,  139.  188.  259. 

New  Guinea.  37.  39.  41. 

Nicknames.  140.  298.  327.  334,  367,  368. 

North  Carolina.  3.  16.  19.  137. 

Northwestern   America,   eye-ornament   of, 
39-41. 

Notes  and  Queries,  93-94.   188-190,  284- 
286. 372-374: 

Some  Hidatsa  ind  Mandan  Tales.  93- 
94;  American  Bi.llads.  188;  Two  Abnaki 
Legends.  1 88-1 91V,  How  the  Colored 
Folk  came  into  Existence.  284;  How  the 
Colored  Man  obtained  his  Well-Known 
S<jbriquet  of  "Coon."  284-285;  A  Negro's 
Explanation  of  the  Currents  of  Hot 
Air  One  sometimes  feels  when  passing 
along  a  Country  Road  at  Night.  285; 
How  Mistah  \'h  ir's  probved  dat  Mistah 
Fox  uz  'is  Ridei  Hoss.  285-286;  Why 
February  Hasnt  I'hirty  Days.  286; 
Death  of  Andrew  Laig.  372-373; 
Nineteenth  International  Conj^ress  of 
Americanists.  1914.  373-374;  Notes  on 
Mexican  Folk-Lore.  374. 

Nova  Scotia.  2.  5.  13.  20.  158.  164.  188. 

Nova  Scotia.  Ballads  from.  182-187.     See 
Mackenzie,  \V.  Roy. 

Oceania.  35.  37.  40.  4«- 

O'Connallon.  cited.  282. 

Ohio.  4.  20.  156-159.  171.  174. 

Oklahoma.  i.{.  158.  188. 

OUl-Countrv    Ballads.  Five.  171.     See  liel- 

den,  //.  \t. 
Oliver.  Thomas  Edward,  citetl.  251. 

Paddlen.  28.  41. 

Poltner.  Mr*.,  clletl,  i8j,  185,  187, 

Panzer.  Friedrich.  cited.  257,  258. 


390 


Index 


Papago  Indians,  Traditions  of  the,  95-105. 
Sec  Krofbrr.  llenrictU  Rothschild. 

Pcabody,  Charles.  A  Texas  Version  of 
"The  White  Captive,"  169-170. 

Peabody,  Charles,  Twenty-Third  Annual 
Meeting  of  the  American  Folk-Lore 
Society,  87-92. 

Pechucl-Loesche,  cited,  39. 

Pennsylvania,  2,  156,  158,  159,  162,  166. 

Perrow,  E.  C,  Songs  and  Rhymes  from 
the  South,  137-155: 

Description  of  mountain-folk  of  Southern 
Appalachian  region,  137-144;  source 
and  classification  of  songs,  144-145; 
(songs  of  outlaws)  Jesse  James,  145-149; 
Jack  Middleton,  149-150;  Old  Brady, 
151;  Dock  Bishop,  151;  Old  Joe  Clark, 
152;  Captain  Kelly,  152;  My  Rowdy 
B'^y-  153;  The  Stage  Robber,  153;  The 
Dying  Cowboy,  153-154;  Tatcrhill,  154; 
Railroad  Bill,  155;  Joe  Turner,  155. 

Peru  stone  club-heads,  39. 

Petitot.  E.,  cited,  334. 

Pettit,  Miss,  cited,  3,  10. 

Pilsudski,  Bronislas,  Ainu  Folk-Lore,  72-86: 
The  Owl,  72-73;  The  Otter,  73;  The  Man 
in  the  Moon,  73-74;  Origin  of  Seal 
Island  ("Robin  Island"),  74-75;  The 
Sable-Hunter,  75-76;  Seal  Island,  76-78; 
Why  Fo.xes'  Eyes  slant,  and  why  the 
Hare  has  no  Tail,  78-79;  The  Crow  and 
the  Mussel,  79;  In  Quest  of  the  Sea-Lion, 
79-80;  The  Woman  and  the  Demon,  80- 
81;  Samayekuru  and  his  Sister,  81-83;  A 
Poem,  83-86. 

Pima  and  Papago  Legends,  51-65.  See 
A'e/T,  Mary  L. 

Pipe,  passing  around  oi  Papago,  102. 

Pitfalls,  108,  109  (see  cave  and  hole). 

Plants,  etc.,  in  folk-lore  and  myth: 

Adum-tree,  111;  ahturi-grass,  79;  akam- 
tree,  123;  alder,  290,  358;  ash-tree,  77, 
176;  aspen-poplar.  358;  Balsamorrhiza, 
353;  balsam-poplar,  306;  bean,  200; 
birch-tree,  77,  170;  bird-cherry,  368; 
blackberry,  138;  brier-bush,  250;  butter- 
nut-tree, 120;  cactus,  97  (fruit),  236; 
calabash,  2-19;  cedar-tree,  44,  45,  307; 
chilarro,  235;  chile,  204,  205,  236;  corn, 
198,  207-209;  corn-leaf,  238;  cotton, 
192;  cottonwood-tree,  53-55,  290,  358; 
cypress-tree,  194;  eel-grass,  187;  fir, 
red  (Picea),  73,  Siberian  silver  (,Ahies 
Veilchi),  73;  flowers,  104,  189;  garlic, 
228;  gourd-seed,  120;  grass,  43,  79,  104, 
189,  250,  294,  295,  320  (see  ahluri-grass, 
eel-grass,  horsetail-grass,  reed-grass, 
swamp-grass);  grease-wood,  52;  gum- 
tree,  131;  heather,  174;  hemlock-tree, 
189;  hor.setail-grass,  327;  hurkle-berry, 
138;  Indian-corn,  138;  juniper-tree,  272; 
kokwe'la,  351;  leaf,  118;  lianas,  238; 
lily,  367;  maple-tree,  73;  melon,  229; 
mesciuite-bcan,  loi;  mushroom,  46; 
mvut-trce,  111;  oak-tree,  176,  183,  248; 
palm,  ii6,  123;  pineapple,  229;  pine-tree, 


189,  198;  pitahaya.  205,  206;  plantain, 
116,  122;  plum,  48;  pomegranate,  227; 
prickly-pear.  236,  246;  rattlesnake-weed, 
96;  reed,  201.  202.  207.  238.  260;  reed- 
grass,  202;  rose,  158,  280,  305;  sabino- 
tree.  195;  service- berry,  305,  353; 
Spanish  moss,  135,  136;  spa'tsan-bush, 
294;  spruce-tree,  69,  70;  swamp-grass. 
299;  toadstool,  124;  tobacco-plant.  60, 
61;  tree,  43,  49,  51.  55,  62,  63.  66.  73, 
97.  104,  131.  170;  tunas.  246.  260; 
"uita"  tree,  77;  vine.  228;  vine-maple. 
359;  violet.  11;  watermelon.  126,  127; 
wheat,  252;  willow,  73,  170;  yam,  132; 
zapote-tree.  201.  202,  206. 

Play-Party.  268-273.  See  Wedgwood,  Har- 
riet L. 

Play-party  songs,  cited,  14,  19. 

Pleiades,  44. 

Pochutla,  204,  231.  251. 

Poetry.     See  Folk-Poetry. 

Portugal.  179. 

Potlatch,  first,  367. 

Pound.  Louise,  cited.  4. 

Prcuss,  K.  T..  cited,  260. 

Prinz  zu  Wied,  Maximilian,  cited,  35. 

Psychology.  25-34,  36.  37.  39,  41,  42.  372. 

Race,  running  of  Papago,  100. 

Radin,  Paul,  on  the  Midewiwin.  32. 

Rand.  Silas  Tertius.  cited,  257. 

Reed.  Opie.  cited.  138. 

Religion,     phenomena    of    psychology     in 

primitive  forms  of,  372. 
Riddles,  Mexican,  227-231. 
Riley.  I.  W.,  cited,  156. 
Rivers,  W.  H.  R.,  on  the  Toda.  53, 
Romero,  Sylvio.  cited.  247. 
Russell.'Frank.  cited,  95. 

Saghalin.  Island  of.  72.  77. 
Sahagun,  Bernardino  de.  cited.  251. 
Salmon  introduced  into  the  streams,  304; 

preparation  of,  for  food,  taught,  295. 
Sapir,  Edward,  cited.  249. 
Sargent,  Homer  E..  cited.  288. 
Saunders.  W.  H..  cited.  278. 
Schlaginhaufen.  cited.  37. 
Schultze.  Leonard,  cited.  259. 
Schurtz,  H.,  cited,  33.  41. 
Scotland,  20,  171,  172,  184. 
Seal  Island.  74. 

Sensenbaugh.  C.  V..  cited,  174. 
Seven-heads  story.  257.  258. 
Shakeress,  171. 
Shaman.  75.  330.  332.  361. 
Shcarin.  H.  G..  cited.  3.  10.  20. 
Shibley.  Agnes,  cited,  176. 
Sims,  Charlie,  171. 
Singing  and  dancing.  Papago.  97. 
Sling-stick,  27. 

Smith,  Charles  Forstcr.  cited.  138. 
Smith,  Herbert,  cited,  247. 
Song  of  Ya-chc-wol,  54. 
Songs: 

Arrow-song,  46;  Brazilian,  179-181;  Mex- 


Index 


391 


ican,  231-235;  of  outlaws,  145-155".  Pa- 

pago,   102;  play-party.   14.   19.  268-273; 

religious,  142-143;  work,  142. 
Songs  and  Rhymes  from  the  South,   137- 

155.     See  Perrow,  E.  C. 
Soto.  Sergio  Hernandez  de,  cited,  196,  258, 

259- 
Soul,  beliefs  regarding.  67,  73,  81,  86. 
South  America,  occurrence  of  Asiatic  tales 

in,     25;     Melanesian     and     Indonesian 

paddle  in,  28,  41. 
South  Dakota,  162,  163. 
Spain,  155,  177- 
Spear-thrower.  27. 
Speck.  Frank  G..  cited.  249. 
Spencer  and  (iillen.  cited.  40. 
Spirits.     See  Supernatural. 
Stall-ballads.  20. 
Stone  implements  of  Ten'a.  66. 
Stucken.  cited.  41. 
Suicide,  fust,  357. 
Sun,  change  in  light  and  heat  of,  298,  354, 

355-  I 

Supernatural  beings  or  things  in  folk-lore    : 
and  myth: 

Demon.    80.    81;    Devil,    133,    134,    143, 
223-225;  evil  spirits,  73,  77;  forest  people 
of  Ainu,  76;  ghosts,  59,  67-71.  108,  109,    [ 
243,    244,    257,    329-331;    Great    Spirit,    | 
188-189;  hell.   184;  light,  24s;  mermen,    j 
346;  monster,  93,  102;  mystery,  300,  362; 
apcll,  369;  spirits,  117,  194,  337;  water- 
mysteries,  346.  354.  364.  371. 
Superstition    amon^    the    Ilidatsa.    93;    of    j 
Southern  mountain-folk.  140;  of  Spanish 
moss.     135.     136;    regarding    graveyard 
snake  and  rabbit,  133,  134. 

Tehuantepec,  204,  241-246. 

Teit.    James,    Trarlitions    of    the    Lillooet 

Indians  of    British   Columbia,    287-371. 

For  contents,  se*-  p.  287. 
Teit.    James,    cited.    249.    256,    257,    259. 

288-296.    298,    299,   304-312,   314,    316, 

318,   322,   326,   327.   332-335.   339.    342. 

344.  346,  350.  356,  358.  361. 
Ten'a,    Happy    HuntinK-Ground    of    the, 

66-71.      St  Chapman,  John  \V . 
Tennejcse*-,  I37-I39.  M'.  '4^.  '46.  152-154. 
Te|)oztlan,  folk-lore  of,  246-247. 
Texa-H,  3.  14.  IS.  >53- 
Texas  Wrsion  of   "The  White  Captive," 

The.  \(y<)   170.     .See  Pfabody.  Charles. 
Thunder,  why  people  arc  itavcd  from,  312. 
Tolman.  I'rofeisor.  4. 
Tolemism,  42.  373. 
Transformation.    85.    122,    192,    256,    293, 

295.  296,  303.  305.  307.  308,  3'o.  314. 

3«7.  319.  324.   32s.  327.   329.   ns.  345. 

348  35".  354  356.  359.  .164.  367.  371. 
Triljes  or  |)coplr.i  of  Alrira: 

African.  36.  38;  Hulu.  io<>-l24;  KKvptian. 

171.  173.  174;  Mnwiii.  34- 
Tril)e»  or  peoples  of  Anjrrica: 

.Abnaki.    188   190;   Algonquin,   32   (Cen-    , 

tral),    249;    A(>ache,    64,    06.    247.    249;    « 


Arapaho.  33,  43-50,  258,  305;  .Xrikara. 
249;  AssinitK)ine,  32,  255,  258;  Atha- 
pascan, 66;  Aztec,  199;  Bella  Bella,  317: 
Bella  Coola,  316.  335.  342;  Biloxi,  249; 
Blackfoot.  33,  34,  258;  Caddo.  249; 
Chatino.  235;  Cherokee.  247.  249; 
Cheyenne.  45,  46.  316;  Chilcotin.  257, 
258,  290.  291,  294,  305,  316.  342;  Chinan- 
tec.  199;  Chinook.  295.  316.  323;  Comox. 
292.  295.  298.  305.  316.  317.  322.  339, 
350;  Cora,  260;  Cowichan.  292.  295,  350; 
Crow,  34-36;  Gros  \'entre,  35,  36; 
Heiltsak,  335;  Hidatsa.  z:^.  34.  93.  94; 
Indian.  14-16.  42;  Ingiliks  (Tinneh, 
Ten'a).  66;  Iroquois.  35;  Karaya.  30; 
Kathlamet.  298.  316.  324;  Kutenay, 
258;  Kwakiutl.  291.  298.  301,  302.  316. 
317.  319.  322.  335.  339;  Lillooet  (Stlat- 
lumH.  291;  Nxo'isten.  Nxo'istEnamux, 
Se'tLamux.  Sta'ttemux.  SLatLemu.x-6'1. 
361;  Laxo'xoamux,  368;  L^xalS'xamux, 
291.  364).  287-370;  Mandan.  a,  93.  94; 
Mazatec.  199;  Miami.  16;  Micmac.  257, 
258;  mountain-folk  of  St)uthern  Appa- 
lachian. 137-145;  Nanaimo.  301.  302; 
Navaho.  305.  307;  negro.  19.  20.  125-136, 
146,  149.  155,  164,  171.  244,  245,  249- 
251,  253;  Newettee,  295;  Nicola.  292.  298. 
299.304.  307.309.  3>  I.  312.316.  318,326. 
327.  339.  350.  356;  Nootka.  295.  316.  317, 
324.  339.  340;  Northwest  Coast  Indians, 
35;  Ojibwa,  37;  Omaha,  33.  34;  I'apago, 
51,  95-105;  Passamaquoddy.  188;  Paw- 
nee, 46,  47;  Penobscot,  189;  Pima, 
51.  52,  60.  63,  64,  9S;  Plains  tribes,  32, 
33.  39;  Pochutla,  204,  231,  251;  Ponca, 
257,  258;  Popoloco,  199;  Puntlatch, 
339;  Quinault,  291,  295,  316;  Salish, 
291;  Salish  (Si'ciatl),  291;  Salish  (StEC'lis 
and  Sk'au'lits),  291;  Sarcee.  258;  Seshelt, 
290,  298.  304;  Shasta.  249;  Shoshone, 
254.  258;  Shuswap,  255-259,  290-292, 
294,    299,    304-307.    309-3>>.    314.    3«8. 

326,  327,  330.  333-335.  344.  348  350. 
357.  358.  3''8;  Sioux.  36,  93;  Skiniqai'n. 
364,  367;  Skimqai'nEmux,  304;  Sk'qomic- 
S(|uamish,  291,  292,  295,  2<;6.  298.  302, 
305.  3J6.  343.  344.  350;  Stlathnnii.  291; 
Takelma,  200,  249;  Tarahumare.  248. 
249;  Tcehe'lKs,  292;  Tehuano,  241,  245; 
Tehuante|H'c,  255;  Ten'a,  W>.  71;  Tepe- 
cano.  III;  TejH'huane.  191;  TluHnpson. 
249,  25s,  257-259.  288  JV2, 294.  296,  298. 
300,  304.  305,  307.  311,  3I4.3«6,  318,  il2, 

327.  330.  340.  344.  348  350.  353.  357; 
Thompson  (Ntlakapamu(|).  200;  lilla- 
mtKik,  260;  TIahu,  290;  Tsimshian,  319, 
335;  I'ta'niql.  292.  294,  29^>.  298,  299. 
304.  307.  .log,  3««.  3>«.  322,  ^\,\.  339. 
350;  Winnebago.  32;  X'n'xalKpamux. 
368;  Vana,  200,  249;  Yurlii,  joo.  347. 
249;  Za|Mtteran.  204,  241;  ZuAi,  24(>. 

rrilwH  or  |>eople«  of  Asia: 
Ainu.  72   86;  Ablatio.  25;  Chiikchee.  334; 
Japanese.  73.  78;  Tmla.  34.  35. 


392 


Index 


Tribes   or    peoples    of    Australia    and    the 

Islands  of  the  Pacific  Ocean: 

Australian,   30;    Malayo-Polynesian,  25; 

Maori,  27;  Melanesian,  28,  36;  Oceanian, 

36,  38;  Sea  Dyak,  39;  Tagalog,  251;  Tas- 

manian,  40;  Visayan,  253. 
Tribes  or  peoples  of  Europe: 

British,  1-4.  6,  10,  13,  15,  16,  159.  168, 

185;  English,  4,  12,  142,  186;  French,  142; 

German,  142;  Gypsy,  171,  174,  175;  Irish, 

2,4,  12,  16,  164;  Jews,  5;  Portuguese,  251; 

Scandinavian,   142;  Scotch,  4,  137,  184, 

186;  Scotch-Irish,  137;  Spanish,  8,  142, 

191.  199,  247.  253-260. 
Trueblood,  T.  C..  cited,  278. 
Tuxtepec,     Stories     from,     199-203.     See 

Mechling,  William  H. 
Tylor.  E.  B„  tribute  to,  372. 

Vermont,  2,  13,  20,  156.  158,  159,  188. 

Victor,  W.,  cited,  252. 

Virgin,  194,  216. 

Virginia,  2-4,  137,  139.  i53.  154- 

Von  Luschan,  P.,  cited,  41. 

Voth,  H.  R..  Arapaho  Tales,  43-5°: 

The  Boy  that  was  carried  off  by  the 
Wind,  43;  The  Frog  and  the  Woman, 
44;  The  Woman  and  the  Buffalo,  44; 
The  Man  who  gets  Advice  from  the 
Skunk,  44;  The  Origin  of  the  Pleiades, 
44;  Bad-Robe  resurrecting  a  Buffalo, 
44-45;  Origin  of  the  Buffalo,  45;  Origin 
of  the  Medicine-Arrows,  46;  On  the  War- 
Path,  46-47;  The  Alligator  Boy,  47; 
The  Cannibal  and  the  Fox,  48;  The 
Mother's  Head,  48-49;  The  Bear  Girl. 
49;  Why  the  Bear  has  a  Short  Tail,  49- 
50;  How  a  Bird  and  an  Alligator  saved 
Two  Children,  50. 


War  between  Arapaho  and  Pawnee,  46,  47. 

War,    Bulu   tale  of,    114;   reminiscence  of 
Spanish-American,  155. 

War,  Civil,  ballads  and  songs  relating  to,  15. 

War  of   1812,  songs  relating  to  incidents 
in,  14. 

War,  Revolutionary,  in  ballad,  169. 

Water-mysteries.     See  Supernatural. 

Waters  made  navigable,  303. 

Weapons,  practice  of  naming,  150. 

Weaving  of  bark  taught,  294. 

Wedding,  193,  202. 

Wedg^vood,    Harriet   L.,    The   Play-Party, 
268-273: 

Similarities  between  Eastern  and  West- 
ern play-songs,  268;  settlers  in  south- 
western Nebraska,  268;  description  of 
play-party,  269;  Miller  Boy,  269;  Skip 
to  my  Lou,  270-271;  We're  Marching 
down  to  Old  Quebec,  271;  Up  and  Down 
the  Centre  We  Go,  271;  Juniper-Tree, 
272;  Old  Dan  Tucker,  272-273;  Four 
Hands  round  in  the  Euchre  Ring,  273. 

Whistling,  125,  126,  295,  297,  351,  352. 

Will,  George  F.,  Some  Hidatsa  and  Mandan 
Tales,  93-94- 

Will,  George  F.,  cited,  16,  169,  277. 

Wisconsin,  4,  158. 

Wissler,  Clark,  cited,  258. 

Witches,  192,  194. 

Woods,  G.  B.,  cited,  171,  174. 

Wrestling-matches,  106. 

Wundt's  "Fratzentriiume,"  cited,  29. 


Yawning,  338,  365. 
Vezo,  78. 

Young,  E.  R.,  cited,  249. 
Yukon  River,  66,  67,  69,  71. 


GR       The  Journal  of  American 

1  folk-lore 

J6 

V.25 
cop.  2 


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