Part 10

When he had said "I will go to you," Winishuyat, the little man under his hair, said,--

"My brother, be careful, he is going to kill you."

Tulchuherris stopped.

"Here," said Winishuyat, "is the place where our people came in time past. Many were killed here. They went to the old man; he threw them down and killed them. If you go to that old man, my brother, he will sway this big rock. In one flash he will throw you into a dark place at the side where you cannot see bottom. Run to the rock quickly, kick it. If not, he will kill us. This old man was sent here by Sas, he was sent here to kill us."

Tulchuherris did not climb the rock, did not go to the old man; but he rushed forward and gave the rock one great kick with his shoe of green water-stone. The rock fell, and the old man fell with it,--fell into the dark place. The rock never sprang back. It left a smooth road with a ridge on each side of the place where it had been. Then the two dogs ran forward, and Tulchuherris said to the old man,--

"Hereafter you will not be what you have been; hereafter you will be nothing but a ground squirrel. You will live under rocks in the earth, and the people to come will call you tichelis. You are not like me; I am strong. You will be nothing hereafter but a poor little ground squirrel."

Tulchuherris followed the dogs then. He looked back and listened; he could hear at a great distance, he could hear all over the world. But he heard no sound from his grandmother; so he went on till he came to a large and broad river. There he saw a man standing. Tulchuherris went nearer, looked up and down, but could see no place to cross the river. The man saw him and said,--

"Grandson, you cannot pass this big river; you must get some one to help you. I am the only one who ever crosses at this point. I can wade right through the water. I carry over all who come here. If you wish, I will take you to the other side; but you could never go alone; you could never cross yourself."

Tulchuherris didn't know what to do, and stood thinking.

"Go on, my brother," said Winishuyat. "Let him carry you, though this is one of the places where they killed many of our people who escaped the old man on the rock. But this man cannot kill us. Let him carry us."

"Very well!" said Tulchuherris to the old man. "Carry me over, take me across this river."

The old man came up and took him on his back. Tulchuherris had a pointed bone in his bosom where he could get at it quickly. He had brought this bone from Eli Tsarauton. The old man started into the river. At first it was not deep, but in the middle of the stream the water was up to his breast, and was growing deeper. Then it reached his neck, and was rising. The dogs made a leap from one side of the river to the other. The water was at the man's eyes now.

"Be careful, my brother," said Winishuyat, "be careful. This man kills people in this way,--he drowns them, he will drown you right away if you let him."

Tulchuherris took out his sharp bone, stabbed the man's breast two or three times with it, wounded him, stopped him. Then he leaped from the man's head to the other bank, where his dogs were. Tulchuherris stood a moment looking at the wounded man. Then he said,--

"Hereafter you will not be what you have been. You will be nothing but an eel. You will be a person no longer. You will be only an eel, the people to come will call you hawt and will eat you."

Tulchuherris walked forward quickly after this. Sas's two daughters heard every step he took, as though he had been near, though he was far, very far away from them. They always heard men coming from the west,--always knew when they were coming.

Tulchuherris walked quickly till almost evening, when he came to a high ridge near Sas's house. Just as he reached the ridge he heard a sort of clinking noise on the other side. He stopped and looked, but saw no one. He was right at the spot where the noise was, but there was no one in sight. The ridge was like a straight wall reaching north and south farther than he could see, and high up out of sight, and down into the ground. No one could go through, or go around, or dig under that wall or climb over it. In the middle of the ridge was an opening in which stood a great sugar pine, and in the pine was a cleft large enough to let a person pass easily. When any one was passing, and half-way through the cleft, the pine closed and crushed him. The noise was made by a person hammering just beyond the wall. Tulchuherris looked through and saw an arm, and while he was looking his dogs sprang through the opening to the other side.

"What's this?" called the man, and he walked to the opening. "Ah, are you there? Is that you, my son-in-law?"

Tulchuherris said nothing, but looked and saw piles of bones inside.

"Come right in this way, come in, my son-in-law," said the old man. "Come in; you cannot pass at another place."

When the old man called out, "Come in, you cannot pass at another place," Tulchuherris said, "I must pass here, but I am afraid."

"This is the road that all people take, my son-in-law. Come straight through; have no fear, there is no danger."

The two dogs went up to the old man and smelled him. They growled, did not like him, nor did the old man like the dogs. This old man was Sas himself, he who lived in Saskewil.

"Now, my brother," said Winishuyat, "go ahead, go through as quickly as you can. If you are slow, he will catch us. This is a place where Sas has killed many of our people."

Tulchuherris took his bow and quiver in one hand, stood on one foot, braced himself sidewise, made a spring, and went through in a flash. That instant the tree closed with a great noise, became solid.

When Tulchuherris shot through, he went far off into the field, and Sas didn't see him, he went past so swiftly. Sas heard the tree close, and thought that Tulchuherris was caught in it. He looked at the tree and began to talk.

"Well, my son-in-law, you are caught, now you are nobody. I am Sas. You were weak, I am strong. You wore your grandmother's apron. You knew nothing; I know everything."

Tulchuherris had come up, and was standing behind while old Sas was talking. He listened, heard every word. After Sas had stopped talking, Tulchuherris asked,--

"My father-in-law, to whom are you talking? What are you saying?"

"Ha!" cried Sas, turning quickly. "Son-in-law, I was talking to myself. I was saying that I had done wrong to my son-in-law. I am old, my heart is weak, my head is half crazy. I am blind, I did not know what I was doing. I was saying that I had done wrong. You are my son-in-law. I am old, I am weak, I am blind. My head is gray. I cannot do much now. You see my house over there; it is a poor house; it is poor because I am old. Go ahead; go in. I will follow as soon as I can."

Tulchuherris went ahead, and Sas followed slowly at a distance. The dogs had run on, and were at the house already. On one side of the door outside were ten grizzly bears, and ten on the other side. There were rattlesnakes in the door and around it. Before Tulchuherris came the panther dog had killed all the bears, and the fox dog all the snakes and things poisonous. When he came near the house, he stood a little way off and looked at his dogs. All around Sas's house he saw great piles of bones lying about everywhere, the bones of his kindred. He began to cry and lament for them.

When the dogs had cleared the way outside, they went into the house and killed all the grizzlies and rattlesnakes there; the house was full of them. Tulchuherris stood outside, crying over the bones of his people. When he had cried enough, he went in. Old Sas's wife was sitting on the east side of the door and his daughters on the west. When they saw Tulchuherris, the girls spread a mat, sat on it, and told him to sit down between them.

"Now, my brother," said Winishuyat, "be careful of that old woman; many of our people have been killed by her. If they were not killed outside, she turned and looked at them, and they fell dead when they saw her eyes."

While Tulchuherris was sitting with Sas's daughters, a large, long-legged, red-backed, very venomous spider came on him; then another and another. Many of these spiders crawled over him. He was wearing his thorn shirt, and they could not poison him; they got impaled on the thorns and died, every one.

Old Sas came at last, and when he walked into the house he took his pipe, filled it with tobacco, and drew a few whiffs of smoke. Then he said,--

"Take a smoke, my son-in-law; we cannot do without a pipe. It is best to smoke first and talk of affairs after that."

Tulchuherris took the pipe and pretended to smoke. He was not smoking; still smoke came, and the tobacco burned out. He gave the pipe back to Sas. Sas's tobacco was made of people's flesh and of their bones pounded fine.

After Tulchuherris had given back the pipe, he took his beautiful quiver, put in his hand, and took out his own pipe of green water-stone, a solid piece, not very big, but tremendously heavy. He took his own tobacco and put it into the pipe. His tobacco was the same kind of marrow that he had rubbed on his face, and something mixed with it (it is not known what that was). Tulchuherris lighted the pipe, smoked a little, and said,--

"Here, my father-in-law, take a smoke. I am only a young man. You are old, you are wise, you know everything. You say it is best for us to take a smoke. I am young, do not know much, but I think this pipe and tobacco are for talk. Smoke with me."

Sas took the pipe, but when Tulchuherris let go the old man could not hold it. It was slipping and falling. When he tried to catch it, it fell on his arm, threw him, and held him down.

Sas struggled to push the pipe off his arm, but had not strength enough. Tulchuherris looked for a moment, then reached out his hand, picked up the pipe, and asked,--

"Father-in-law, what is the matter? Take a good smoke. This is Tulchuherris's pipe."

Sas could not lift the pipe. Tulchuherris held it while the old man was smoking. When Sas drew in the smoke and swallowed it, it hurt him inside. The old man was choking. He fell on the ground, fell almost into the fire. His breath was taken from him. Tulchuherris put the pipe aside.

"Oh, help me up, help me, my son-in-law," called Sas.

Tulchuherris helped him to rise, and then sat with the girls again.

"My old father, Sas," said his elder daughter, "what is the matter? You have wanted this long time to see a man with strong arms. Why not talk now with this one? You have been waiting a long time for such a man."

While they were sitting there, Winishuyat said: "My brother, look out for the old woman. She is going to turn--be on your guard!"

Tulchuherris was ready. The old woman had not looked around since he came. She had been sitting motionless. Now she began to turn slowly, and Tulchuherris watched her. He sat with his right hand doubled up, and before she could look into his eyes he snapped two flint finger-nails at her, sent one nail into each of her eyes and put it out. She fell dead and rolled into the fire.

Night came now, and Tulchuherris lay down on the bed prepared by Sas's two daughters. They took their places, one on each side of him.

He never took out Winishuyat, he never let any one know of him. As Tulchuherris lay on his back, he saw something over his head, hanging from the roof of the house. Two obsidian knives were hanging together by a very slender string of the inner bark of maple. Tulchuherris fell asleep and slept until midnight. He was roused then by Winishuyat, who said to him,--

"Oh, my brother, wake up. The string holding the knives is ready to break. Wake up, my brother, wake up!"

Tulchuherris woke up.

"Turn over! turn over!" said Winishuyat.

Tulchuherris turned in a flash. That instant the knives fell, struck the ground just at his back, and were broken to pieces, both knives at once.

This was another way of killing people. Strangers always slept soundly on that bed with Sas's daughters, were struck while asleep by two knives in the heart, and died the same moment.

Next morning after the knives fell, Sas rose and said,--

"Rise up, my son-in-law. I have a small sweat-house out here. I go there to sweat every morning, and then to the river to swim. I swim in the river every morning. We will sweat, and then swim."

Sas went ahead, he was first in the sweat-house. He made a very hot fire of the bones of people whom he had killed,--there were piles of those bones around everywhere. Tulchuherris went out of Saskewil into the sweat-house.

"Now, my brother," said Winishuyat, when they were at one side in the sweat-house, "this is the place where Sas has killed many people who escaped in the house. He will smoke you to death if he can."

The sweat-house was built of bones, and was plastered outside with mucus from Sas's nose, so that no smoke could escape through the cracks. After Tulchuherris went in he saw how Sas made the fire. The old man never used wood, always bones. He piled on bones; fat and marrow came out of them, blazed up, made a great smoke, and the smell of the smoke was not pleasant. After sweating for a while Sas said,--

"I am old now and weak, nearly blind. I cannot stand much. My head aches. I must go out to rest. Stay here you and take a good sweat. When you have finished, come out."

Old Sas went out. The door was small, he could barely crawl through it. When outside, he lay across the door and stopped the passage with his body, so that no one could go out and no smoke could escape. After a time Tulchuherris said,--

"My father-in-law, I should like to go out. Go from the door, let me pass, I have sweated enough."

"Oh, I am old and weak," answered Sas. "I am lying here to rest. When I have rested some, my son-in-law, I will rise and let you out."

Tulchuherris was silent a little while longer. Then he groaned, "Oh, I'm nearly dead!"

"My brother," asked Winishuyat, "do you want to die? Do you want old Sas to kill you, to smoke you to death? You have no wish to die, I do not want to die. We are strong people, stronger than Sas. I will tell you how to go out. Take that Chirchihas bone which you have and make a hole in the north side of the sweat-house."

Tulchuherris made a hole in the wall of the sweat-house. He spat then and spoke to the spittle. "Make noise for an hour," said he, "and groan just as I do--'enh, enh, enh!' Let Sas believe that I am here, that I am dying."

Tulchuherris slipped out through the hole, walked to the river, swam there, washed himself clean, went back to Saskewil, and sat down with his two wives, Sas's daughters. Sas heard the groaning of the spittle inside and said to himself, "Tulchuherris is dying."

After a long time the noise stopped, and Sas said, "Tulchuherris is dead." Then he went to the river, washed himself, and walked along slowly toward the house. When he came near, he was saying,--

"Tulchuherris, you are nobody. I have finished you now. I am wiser than you, stronger than you. You were brought up in your grandmother's apron."

Tulchuherris heard him. When Sas was outside the door, he stood a while and talked on,--

"You were dug out of the ground, Tulchuherris," said he. "You are nobody. I have beaten you. You'll never trouble me again."

He started to go into the house, looked around, and saw Tulchuherris sitting with his two daughters.

"Father-in-law, were you talking of me? What were you saying?" asked Tulchuherris, when Sas had come in and sat down.

"Oh, my son-in-law, I cannot tell what I said, but I was thinking, 'Oh, I am so old, I know nothing. I am weak, I am blind. Sometimes I do not know what I am doing. I think that I have done wrong to my son-in-law, my poor son-in-law.'"

Soon after Sas went out, and at one side near the door he dug a grave for the old woman, his wife. When he had dug it, he buried her and with her all the bears and snakes, and said, "These are my children." He put them in the same grave, and cried, singing as he cried,--

"Koki, koki, koki nom, Koki, koki, koki nom." (Creeping, creeping, creeping west, Creeping, creeping, creeping west.)

While he was burying his wife and the bears and the snakes, he had beaver teeth hanging on strings at the back of his head and on each side of his face. After he had cried awhile he danced and sang, and these teeth rattled as his head swayed from side to side. Then he went into the house, sat down, looked at Tulchuherris, and said,--

"Tulchuherris, you are my son-in-law; your wives, those two women, are my daughters. There are some things which they have wanted to play with this long time, and they have begged me to go for them, but I am old and blind; if I were to go I could not get what they ask for. My daughters want pets. My son-in-law, on a small tree, not far from this house, is a nest, and young woodpeckers chirp every day in it. Your wives want these red-headed woodpeckers, but I am blind and old; I cannot climb the tree, but you can get the woodpeckers. I will show the nest."

"Go ahead," said Tulchuherris, "show me the nest."

The tree was a mile away. Sas went to it and stopped. Tulchuherris stood near. Both looked up, and Sas asked, "Do you see the nest?"

The tree was very straight, and so high that they could hardly see the top of it; the trunk was as smooth as ice.

"My father-in-law," said Tulchuherris. "I do not think that I can go up there; I do not believe that I can climb the tree."

"You can climb it if I help you," said Sas, who took out a rope made of single hairs tied end to end, a great many of them tied together, hairs from the heads of his daughters. He threw the rope very high over a limb near the nest, and said: "Now, my son-in-law, I will hold the rope; you climb."

Tulchuherris began to climb the rope. He went up, up, up, till he reached the limb and stood on it. Sas was on the ground, holding the other end of the rope. When Tulchuherris let go his hold, Sas pulled the rope down, and left Tulchuherris on the limb very high in the air. Sas turned home. When a short distance he said,--

"Now, Tulchuherris, you are nobody. Your grandmother, Nomhawena, is old. She dug you out of the ground with a root stick. You grew up in her petticoat. You are not strong, you are not wise, you are only Tulchuherris. I am Sas."

When Tulchuherris looked down he was terrified, it was so far to the ground.

"My brother," said Winishuyat, "we shall get down. Lengthen the pointed bone which you have, and go higher."

Tulchuherris went to the nest, looked in, and saw a great many heads peeping out in every direction,--all heads of rattlesnakes. He looked awhile; could not think what to do.

"Make the bone long," said Winishuyat. Tulchuherris stretched the bone. "Stick the bone into the head of each snake and gather them all on it."

Tulchuherris did this quickly; had them all; then he slipped them off and let them drop to the earth. After that he sat on the limb and thought: "What shall I do now?"

"My brother," said Winishuyat, "what are you thinking of? Why not try to do something? Do you want to die? If you cannot think of a way to escape, I will tell you a way."

"Tell me, my brother."

"Stretch your right hand toward the west. Something will come on it."

Tulchuherris stretched his hand toward the west, where his grandmother was, and immediately something came with a whirr and a flutter, and settled on his arm like a bird. It was a sky-strap, blue like the sky, narrow, and very strong. He fastened one end of it to the limb, knotting it in such a way that he could untie it with a jerk at the other end. He slipped down on it, and when on the ground jerked it loose. He strung the snakes on the long bone, they were all dead, and carried them to Sas's house. He laid them at the door, went in, sat down, and then said to the two women,--

"I have the woodpeckers if you wish to play with them. If you don't want them, you can send your father to look at them."

The girls told Sas. He went to the snakes and cried out: "Oh, my son-in-law, you are killing all my children." Sas buried them in the old woman's grave, and cried, and sang the same song over them as over his wife and the bears. Then he danced, wearing the beaver teeth.

Next morning old Sas rose first, and said: "My son-in-law, be up. My daughters always want me to fish and hunt; but I cannot fish now, I cannot hunt. I am old and weak. My feet are tender, I cannot walk; my head is dizzy. But you are young, my son-in-law. You can do many things. If you wish to hunt, I will show you where to find game in plenty. When I was young, I used to go to that place and kill game of every sort."

"I will go," said Tulchuherris.

When they were at the place, Tulchuherris saw only thick brush through which no man could pass. There was only one narrow opening, one little trail, and one tree at the end of it. "Stand against that tree," said Sas. "When deer come, they always run past that tree. I will drive deer in. You shoot."

Sas went north to drive deer in.

"Now, my brother," said Winishuyat, "be careful. You see the bones around here. They are people's bones. When Sas could not kill people elsewhere, he brought them to this place and killed them. He will drive ten grizzly bears up to kill us, and eat us. Tell your panther dog what to do."

"You, my dog," said Tulchuherris, "stand behind the tree till you see a grizzly bear spring at me. I will dodge. He will miss and turn again at me. Kill him when he turns."

Tulchuherris heard Sas driving bears in the distance. "Ha-ha, ho-ho! Ha-ha, ho-ho!" shouted Sas.

"Be ready; they are coming!" said Winishuyat.

Tulchuherris heard Sas coming. Then he saw a grizzly, and another, and another, till five were in sight. A little behind these were five others. When the first bear came near, he bounded at Tulchuherris, Tulchuherris dodged. The bear went past a good distance, and then turned to spring back. That moment the panther dog seized him by the throat and killed him. The second bear sprang at Tulchuherris. He dodged; the bear passed, and turned to come back. The panther dog seized and killed him right there. When he had chased the bears in, Sas turned home, saying as he went,--

"You are in a good place to-day, Tulchuherris. I have you now where my children will kill you. I know more than you; I am stronger than you. I am Sas."

After ten bears were killed and no more came, Tulchuherris stood awhile, and taking the bears in one hand by the paws, he walked home with them; carried them as he would little birds. He put them at Sas's door, went in, sat down, and said to his wives,--

"I have something outside. You call them deer, I give them another name. But this is the only kind of deer that your father drove to me. You eat this kind of deer, I suppose. Go and see them, or tell your father to go."

Sas went out and saw the ten grizzly bears lying dead. "Oh, my son-in-law," cried he, "you are killing all my children!" Then, singing and crying, he buried the bears.

Next morning Sas rose early. "My son-in-law," said he, "there is something which I would like you to do to-day. My daughters have been asking me to do this for a long time; but I am too old. I will show you a brush house. I made it to kill birds of every kind and all kinds of game. It is near a spring at which birds meet to drink. Come; I will show you the house and the spring."

"My brother, be careful to-day," said Winishuyat, at starting. "Sas is taking us to Wintubos, where he has killed many people. There is no water near that place; no spring; but the house is full of snakes, poisonous things, and bears. Take both your dogs with you."

After Tulchuherris and Sas had gone a short distance, Sas stopped and said,--