Part 10

“Yes, above here there is a place where the river is shallow. How did you pass the one-legged man’s house? He lives on the road you came over. His house is under the rocks; all you can see of it is the smoke that comes out.”

“We are going to Sun’s house,” said the elder boy. “We must hurry on; we’ve no time to talk.”

They left the spirit at the crossing. There was a big stump in the middle of the river; it was Yahyáhaäs’ crossing-place. He leaped from the bank to the rock and from there to the other bank. The elder boy took his little brother under his arm and jumped across the river.

“Stop! stop!” called Yahyáhaäs’ spirit. “Give me your pipe.”

The brothers paid no heed; they went on, and at the end of two days came to a house covered with deerskins. Some of the skins were dry; others were fresh. Around the house there was a great deal of deer meat.

“Let us go to that house and get something to eat,” said the little boy.

“Don’t go there,” answered his brother. “That is the one-legged man’s house.”

Yahyáhaäs was watching; when he saw the boys pass he came out, and going around them, came up driving a deer that looked tired and ready to fall. As the spirit met the boys, the deer ran off.

“You have made me lose my deer!” screamed the spirit. “Now give me your pipe to smoke.”

“We have no pipe.”

“Travelers always have a pipe.”

“I have traveled long,” said the boy. “When I had traveled two summers, my tobacco was gone.”

They left Yahyáhaäs and went on. That night they crossed two mountains, and the next day the elder brother said: “We are near the end of our journey.” Just then Yahyáhaäs came to them; on his back were two deer. The elder brother saw him first. “That is the spirit of the one-legged man,” said he to the little boy. “Don’t be deceived.”

The brothers turned to black coals, and a strong wind, like a whirlwind, carried them along. Sometimes they rolled and sometimes they went through the air. When they were over two high mountains, they took their own forms. Again Yahyáhaäs came to them. This time his face and body were painted white. “We have no time to talk with you,” said the elder brother, and they hurried on.

When they reached the top of the third mountain, the spirit of the one-legged man was there. That time his face and body were painted red, and long bright hair floated behind him. He called out: “Who are you that can never be caught?”

The moment he spoke, the brothers again turned to black coals, and a whirlwind carried them away. The whirlwind stopped on the bank of a dried up stream, and the boys took their own forms, and traveled on. Many times Yahyáhaäs’ spirit met them, always in a different dress, and painted differently, but the brothers knew him.

At last the boys reached the eastern ocean, where nothing stood between the water and the sky. There were lots of rocks there. The brothers sat down and the elder took out his pipe to smoke.

That minute Yahyáhaäs was there, and said: “Let me smoke.” That time the boy gave him his pipe. (He was going to destroy the spirit.) Yahyáhaäs tried to break the pipe, but couldn’t; then the boy said: “Give me your pipe.” With the first whiff he broke it to pieces.

“You must wrestle with me,” said Yahyáhaäs. He built a fire and fastened his leg to the rocks.

“You must stand by the fire with your back toward us,” said the elder boy to his little brother. “When you hear us wrestling shut your eyes and run as fast as you can. Don’t look back. Run straight east. Run on the water; and don’t stop till I call to you. We have left the house where our father and mother were killed. We are leaving the world, but each year we shall see our father’s country.”

When the boy had killed Yahyáhaäs, he threw him into the water, and said: “You will never be a person again. You will only be something to entice and fool people. You will think that you can kill people, but you will have no strength. You will wander around on the mountains and appear (in dreams) to doctors, and they will be your servants.”

As the boy ran off, the spirit called: “When I appear, you will appear, but you will have no power. You and your brother will no longer be persons; you will be stars, and between summer and winter your people will fight over you.”

The younger boy was at the edge of the sky when the old man’s spirit said: “You will be a star.” Right away he was one. As soon as the elder boy reached the edge of the sky, he became a star, too.

Note.—Those two stars appear early in the morning toward the end of winter. They are the heralds of spring.

THE RAINMAKER

CHARACTERS

Gáhga Heron (Small Green Heron) Kāhkaas Stork

Gáhga and his brother lived together. They were so small that people called them “the two little Gáhga brothers.” The elder brother was blind, but he was a great doctor; he could see everything, by the help of his medicines.

One day a man came to the Gáhga brothers, and said: “A great many people are going to snare deer. They have made bark ropes and tied them between trees; now they are ready to drive the deer in. They want you to come and help them.”

The elder brother was married. He had a nice-looking wife and a little boy. He said to his wife: “You must pound seed and get ready to go with my brother. I don’t want to take my medicines there; I will stay here by the fire with our boy. I can’t look out of my eyes. Maybe the deer would kill me.”

The woman pounded seed; she left some for her husband and little boy to eat, and took a bagful for herself and her brother-in-law. Gáhga got out his medicine and watched his wife and brother. He sat by the fire, but he followed them all the way to where the people were driving in deer. As he watched them, he got jealous and mad, for he saw that his wife and brother were fond of each other. When they came home, they brought a fawn. The woman cut it up, roasted the meat, and gave some of it to her husband; he kicked it away. She gave him some wûdjûk (weed like mustard), to eat; he tasted of it, spat it out, and threw the rest in the fire.

She said: “The people were kind to me to-day; they gave me the fawn and asked me to come to-morrow,” and she began to pound seed and get ready to go.

The next day when the woman and her brother-in-law were starting off, Gáhga said: “I know what kind of stuff you are feeding me! I know you are making sport of me. You don’t fool me. You can do what you like; I don’t care for you any longer, but I will make you feel sorry.” They didn’t answer, didn’t say a word to him.

That day Gáhga’s sister came to see her little nephew. Gáhga said: “I want you to get me a straw plate.”

“Why do you want a straw plate?” asked his sister.

“Get it for me, I want it.”

She wouldn’t get him the plate till he told her what he was going to do with it, and he wouldn’t tell. She was afraid of him; she knew he was mad about something.

After a while old man Kāhkaas came; he was kin of Gáhga. Gáhga asked him for the plate and he gave it to him, and said: “Your brother is stealing your wife. All the people at the deer hunt say so. But you must keep quiet; you mustn’t get mad. You are old and blind; your brother is young, and your wife is nice-looking.”

Gáhga screamed, he was so mad. He called his sister and said: “Lead me to the hunt!”

She was so scared that she had to do as he told her. He took the straw plate, and the three started. When they got to the place, his sister said: “Sit down here, away from the snares; then you will be safe.”

“No,” said Gáhga, “I am going where my wife is.”

“Don’t be a fool,” said his sister. “She doesn’t want you; she has another man.”

Gáhga took the plate from under his arm, and sat down on it.

About midnight his sister asked: “What are you doing? Why don’t you lie down and go to sleep? Why are you sitting on that plate and keeping awake all night?”

“Keep still and let me alone,” said Gáhga. “Stay here by me; I am going to punish those people.” Then he got up and began to dance on the plate and to call out: “Ho! ho! ho!”

Right away rain came down, but Gáhga didn’t get wet. He kept shaking himself and calling: “Ho! ho! ho!” Each time that he called, it rained harder. There was deep water everywhere, but the plate was dry and the ground around it was dry. The people got as wet as though they had been swimming.

Gáhga’s sister said: “You shouldn’t get mad and act in this way; you will kill everybody.”

He didn’t listen to what she said; he called, “Ho! ho! ho!” and danced faster and faster. The people were almost drowned; the water was up to their arms. Still Gáhga kept shaking himself and dancing and calling: “Ho! ho! ho!”

When the people saw that Gáhga and his sister were dry, they said to his brother: “You have done this. You have made Gáhga mad. You have taken your brother’s wife,” and they threatened to kill him.

He said: “I don’t want her. I am going to die; I am freezing.”

The people caught hold of the woman, dragged her along in the water, and threw her down in front of her husband. He stopped dancing, and right away it stopped raining.

The people said: “You shouldn’t be mad at us. We didn’t do this. We don’t want to die; we want to go home. You should feel sorry for us and dry up the water.”

Gáhga was sorry for them. He danced on the plate, but he didn’t call: “Ho! ho! ho!” The water began to go away, and soon the ground was as dry as it had been before the rain, and every one went home except Gáhga and his wife and his brother.

Gáhga sat on his plate; he wouldn’t get up or he wouldn’t speak. His wife got mad. She pushed him, and asked: “Why don’t you get ready to go home?” He didn’t answer: then she took hold of his arm, jerked him up, threw him on top of the load of meat on her back, and went home.

His brother went off on the mountains; he was afraid of Gáhga, and afraid of the people; for they hated him, and the woman didn’t care for him any longer.

Gáhga was so jealous and cross that he drove his wife away. His sister took the little boy, and Gáhga stayed alone. Maybe he is dead and maybe he is living. Doctors who have him for their medicine can make rain whenever they want to. It is a good medicine. When any one has it, they can look through a man’s body just as we look through a window.

OLD MAN LULUS-DEWIEAS OR EARTHQUAKE OLD MAN

CHARACTER

Lulus-Dewieas A Sweet Root; Dewieas means a Great Eater, a Glutton

Old man Lulus-Dewieas and his son and daughter-in-law lived in the country where the lava beds are now. They ate a great deal of sweet lulus; it was the old man’s medicine. Always when the son went to hunt for deer, he told his wife to take good care of his father, and be sure to give him food before she ate herself, or gave any food to the children. If she didn’t, she would bring misfortune on herself and the children. The woman remembered what her husband said, and she always gave the old man food first; he was glad and fed his grandchildren.

One day, early in winter, the son said to his wife: “There is plenty of game now. I want to kill a good many deer before deep snow comes. While I am gone, you mustn’t forget to feed my father before any one else.” The old man was white as snow; he was very old and was almost blind.

The next morning, when the young man was starting off, he said: “I had a bad dream last night. I don’t want to go, but the children are always crying for fat meat. I dreamed that I came home and found only a deep hole where our house is now. You must keep the children away from their grandfather. Don’t let them bother him; he might get mad. As long as you treat him well, he won’t harm them.”

When the young man got to the top of the mountain, he looked back; he could see his house, but somehow he felt lonesome and scared. He kept listening, as if he expected to hear something. It was the first time that he had felt that way. He found a deer and drove it on to a hill, and shot at it. Right where it stood, it disappeared. Then he knew that something was going to happen to him. He said: “This is the first time I have lost a deer after shooting it.” When he got tired of looking for the deer, he sat down to rest.

After her husband was gone, the young woman got a heavy stone and began to pound seeds. While she was pounding, she made up her mind to find out what her father-in-law would do if she put the seed away without giving him any. When the seed was fine enough, she put up the mortar without saying a word. When the old man saw her do that, he crept out and sat down on the south side of the house. As he sat there, he began to swell up. He took black paint and painted himself in stripes. Right away he began to turn and turn, and to throw up dirt. His hair grew as red as fire, and when the hole he made was large enough, he sank into it.

When the little girl saw her grandfather going down in the ground she screamed: “Oh, grandfather, come back!”

The woman heard the child cry, and she ran out to see what the matter was. When she saw what had happened, she called: “Oh, father, come back. I’ll give you lots of seeds to eat! Come back!”

But the old man had gone too far, and was too mad; the house, the woman, and the children all sank into the hole.

The old man went on, boring as he went. Everywhere he broke and threw out the earth. Once in a while he raised himself up a little. At such places the earth would be level for a short distance, then it would sink down in a deep hole and leave a wide opening in the ground.

The son heard a terrible roar and he knew that his wife had made his father mad. People living a long way off heard the roar. They knew what kind of an old man that was; they stayed in their houses and fastened up their doors. As the old man traveled, he kept calling his own name: “Lulus-Dewieas, Lulus-Dewieas!” When the young man came to where his house had been, he found only a wide gap in the earth. He followed the sound of his father’s traveling and called to him; but the old man didn’t hear him.

He traveled under the ground till he got beyond Mount Shasta and came to where there was water. He stopped there, but stayed under ground. The son stood above the place and spoke to his father.

The old man said: “You must not feel badly; my spirit belongs to this earth. You must go away from me; you must not try to follow me. I shall live forever under the earth.”

Lulus-Dewieas could hardly speak when he said this. The son left him, and ever after wandered around in the world. He felt sorry and lonesome.

MÁIDIKDAK’S DAUGHTERS

CHARACTERS

Máidikdak Snowbird Wus Fox

Máidikdak and her two daughters lived in the south. The old woman knew that five chiefs lived in the north, with their father, who was a chief, too. She wanted her daughters to marry those five brothers, so she made them ready for the road. To one daughter she gave a basket of food; to the other beads, nice shells, and porcupine quills.

When the girls were ready to start, she said: “If you see a man coming from the east, you will know he is Wus. Don’t stop to talk to him. He is a powerful man; he can do any thing he likes. If he gets mad, he will turn you into an animal or a bird. Don’t go on the west side of the lake. Follow the trail on the east side.”

When the girls came to the lake, the west side looked nicer, the trail was brighter. The elder sister wanted to follow it, but the younger sister said: “Our mother told us not to go on that side.”

The elder sister said: “You can follow the other trail if you want to. I am going on this trail; it is nicer.”

The younger girl didn’t want to be alone, so she went with her sister. When they passed Wus’ house she was frightened. She said: “I feel as if somebody were looking at me.”

“I feel that way too,” said the elder sister. Presently they saw a young man coming toward them.

“What nice girls those are,” thought Wus. When he came up to them, the younger sister said to the elder: “Don’t stop. Go right on. This is the man our mother told us about. Don’t speak to him.”

But the elder girl stopped. Wus made her stop. The younger went on a little way, then she turned back; she was afraid to go on alone.

“Where are you going?” asked Wus.

“To the chief’s house,” said the elder sister.

“What chief is there out this way? I am the only chief here. I am the chief of this world.”

“You are not the chief we are going to. That chief never travels around. Our mother told us there was a bad man on this side of the lake. His name is Wus; he doesn’t smell good.”

“I know that man,” said Wus. “He is not bad. He has power and can do anything he wants to.”

“We are not going to stop here,” said the elder sister. “We are going to the chief who lives in the north, and has five sons.”

“Go on, if you want to,” said Wus.

When the girls started, Wus watched them till they went out of sight; he was saying things in his mind. As they traveled, they became old women, with humps on their backs; their bodies shriveled up, there was no flesh on their bones, they could scarcely move; their hair turned white, and their teeth fell out. Their beautiful clothes turned to dirty straw; their strings of beads were twisted bark; their baskets looked old and broken and the roots in them turned to moldy skins; the shells and porcupine quills were bits of bark.

The younger sister said: “We didn’t go the way our mother told us to. That man was Wus; he has done this. If we had gone on the east side of the lake, we shouldn’t have met him. We should have done as our mother told us; she is old, and she knows more than we do.” After a long time, they got to the chief’s house. The five brothers were out hunting. The chief didn’t know what to give the women to eat; he thought they were too old to eat roasted liver (old people’s food). When he gave them some, they pushed it away. They lay down to sleep, and while they were sleeping the five brothers came. They knew Máidikdak’s daughters and knew who had made them old.

The youngest brother asked: “Did you give these women anything to eat?”

“I gave them liver,” said the old man, “but they couldn’t eat it; they haven’t any teeth.”

The young man was glad they had come; he sat down and watched them. About midnight they turned to beautiful girls. In the morning, when they woke up, they were old women again.

The chief said to himself: “What kind of a man is my son? Why does he stay by those dirty old women?”

The young women heard his thoughts and they felt badly. At last they crawled up and went out to wash in the river. The elder sister said: “If we swim, maybe it will make us young again.”

They took off their dirty, ragged clothes and old torn moccasins and began to swim. Right away they turned to beautiful girls; their long hair floated on the top of the water. As they swam, they talked and laughed, for they were glad to be young again. They made sport of their father-in-law, and said: “That big chief thought we were old women; he fed us liver!”

The young man heard this and said to his father: “You fed those girls dirty liver. Did you think they were old women?”

The girls kept diving down in the water and coming up, and soon they began to change. They became green-headed ducks, and floated off toward home. The young man felt badly; he didn’t want them to go.

Old Máidikdak heard them coming, and when they were near the house, she said: “My daughters, you didn’t do as I told you. I told you about that bad man. If I hadn’t this would be my fault; now it is yours.” She tried to catch them, but couldn’t. At last she went under the water and caught hold of their legs. She pulled off their feathers and they were girls again.

The next morning the young man said to his father: “I am going to carry my wives’ clothes and beads and porcupine quills to their mother.”

When he got to Máidikdak’s house the two sisters were off gathering wood. The old woman saw him sitting on top of the house and she asked: “Who are you?”

“I am one of the five brothers who live in the north.”

“Are you the youngest?”

“Yes, I have brought back your shells and porcupine quills. Wus changed your daughters to ducks.”

“Come in, son-in-law, my daughters have gone for wood.”

The young man was glad. When the girls came, he said: “I have left my father and brothers. I will live here now.” Ningádaniak. [10]

WUS KUMUSH AND TSMUK

CHARACTERS

Kaiutois Wolf Nátcaktcókaskĭt Tsmuk Darkness Wus Kumush Wuswelékgăs Wus’ Old Woman

Old man Tsmuk and his wife had three sons and one daughter. The daughter was always thinking about Wus and singing about him.

Wus heard her, but he didn’t know how to get to her, for everywhere around Tsmuk’s place it was dark. He tried in all directions, but couldn’t get there. He listened to the girl’s song. At last he thought: “I can do anything I want to; I am Wus. I will make a place where that girl will come, and I can see her.” He burned over ground and made it ready for ges. [11] Then he thought of ges, and it grew there right away.

One day, when the three sons of old man Tsmuk were starting off to hunt deer, they asked their sister: “What will you eat while we are gone?”

“I have nothing to eat,” said the girl.

“Not far from here,” said the brothers, “there is ges growing; you can dig that.” And they told her where the place was.

Wus saw her digging roots and singing, and he thought: “How can I get near her without frightening her?” He turned himself into an old woman, put his bow and arrows and quiver into a basket, tied bark around his legs and head, just as an old woman does, and went to the girl. He talked like a woman, spoke kindly, asked her who she was, and where her home was.

The girl was tired; she complained because she had to come so far for roots.

“Are you very far from home?” asked Wus.

“I have to camp one night on the way back,” said the girl. When she started for home, Wus hurried the sun down, made night come quickly, then he said: “Let us sit down and sing songs.”

While they were singing, Wus wished her to sleep. She went to sleep right away. Then he built a brush house over her; he worked all night, and in the morning the house was finished. When the girl woke up, she was in a bright, many-colored house, and she wondered where she was. When she remembered, and looked around for the old woman, she saw a handsome young man; his clothes were covered with beads.

The next day Tsmuk’s daughter had a child. It was like any child, except that it had fox ears. The mother cried.

“Why do you cry?” asked Wus. “Are you sorry to be here? For a long time I have listened to you. When I have been out hunting, I have heard you singing about me. If you don’t like me, why did you sing that song?”

“I am not crying about you, I am crying about my baby; I think my father or brothers will kill it.”

“They will not kill the baby. I have power; I can do anything; I am Wus,” said the young man.

Wus pushed the sun and made it go down quickly. As soon as the woman was asleep, he fixed the baby’s ears, made them like the ears of a person. He did this by thinking hard and wishing them to be that way.

Old Tsmuk and his wife were looking for their daughter. They knew that Wus had been trying to find her and they thought he had caught her. They called to her, and listened for her song, but didn’t hear it.

Tsmuk’s daughter wanted to go home; she wanted to see her father and mother. Wus knew her thoughts, and he asked: “Why do you think of such things? What I wish for will be. To-morrow you will go home.”

The next morning Wus wrapped up the baby and tied it on a board. The child was bright and beautiful. It looked like a rainbow.