Part 17

The old woman said: “That is always the way it does when a stranger comes; you can creep out backwards.” She made the awl over the door grow long. It stuck in the girl’s head and killed her. The old woman cut up the body; then she thought: “I will pay my son for feeding me mouse heads.” She took a dry old piece of an intestine and talked to it; said: “Go out there on the flat and when it is dark burn like a camp fire, and talk as if there were a lot of people sitting by a fire. When you see Wus coming, go farther and farther, draw him away as far as the great water.”

The old woman cleaned up the blood, so Wus wouldn’t see that anything had been killed in the house; then she cooked a piece of meat and hid it under her blanket.

When Wus came with mice his mother cooked them for him. He ate the bodies and gave her the heads. While she crunched the heads, she ate meat, too.

Wus listened; he thought that his mother was eating something besides mouse heads. Right away he jumped up and asked: “What are you eating?”

“I am eating mouse heads. How could I get anything else to eat?” Again she ate heads and meat.

Wus searched till he found the piece of cooked meat.

“Where did you get this?” asked he.

“Your uncles were here a little while ago, they have plenty of deer meat.”

“Why didn’t they give you more?”

“They are near here now. If you look out, you will see their camp. They couldn’t go far, for they had a heavy load.”

Wus looked out; he saw the fire and heard people talking. “I am going over there!” said he, and he started off on a run. When he thought he was almost there, the fire and the talking were farther off. He ran very fast, but couldn’t get to the fire; it was always a little ahead of him. Each time he said: “Now I shall jump right down by it,” but he never got any nearer than he was when he started.

Wus was a fast runner; from a flat, with one jump, he reached the top of a high mountain. When he wanted to run very fast, he called: “Wich! wich!” When he wanted to go slow, he said: “Hach! hach!” In one night he got near the great water. When the sun came up, he was on a high mountain. Looking down, he saw a fire, and men roasting meat and talking, and throwing knives at one another. Wus said: “Now I shall be there!” He called: “Wich! wich!” and made a running leap. He came down where he thought the camp was, but he found only sand; the fire was far off on the water. He turned back, but he was too weak to walk; he lay down on the ground, and began to cry.

Tciwididik heard him; she was his aunt. She came, pushed him with her foot, and said: “Your mother fooled you; she wanted to kill you. You shouldn’t always do what people tell you to.” She put Wus in her basket and took him to her house. When he was almost well, she carried him part way home. He traveled many days, camping each night. He spent the last night in Kaltsik’s house.

Wus’ mother had cut her hair off and covered her head with pitch; she was mourning. When she saw Wus, she screamed, she was so glad. She rubbed deer marrow on his body and cured him; he got fat. They moved to a new place where there were lots of black crickets. Sometimes Wus killed a basketful in a day, and he and his mother had plenty to eat.

WAR BETWEEN BEASTS AND BIRDS

Once there was a war between beasts and birds. Bat was on birds’ side. In the first battle, the birds were badly beaten. As soon as Bat saw that the battle was going against them, he crept away, hid under a log, and stayed there till the fight was over.

When the animals were going home, Bat slipped in among them.

After they had gone some distance, they saw him, and asked one another: “How is this? Bat is one of the men who fought against us?”

Bat heard them, and he said: “Oh, no! I am one of you; I don’t belong to the bird people. Did you ever see one of those people who had double teeth? Go and look in their mouths, and see if they have. If you find one bird with double teeth, you can say that I belong to the bird people. But I don’t; I am one of your own people.”

They didn’t say anything more; they let Bat stay with them.

Soon after, there was another battle; in that battle birds won. As Bat’s side was getting beaten, he slipped away and hid under a log. When the battle was over, and birds were going home, Bat went in among them.

When they noticed him, they said: “You are our enemy, we saw you fighting against us.”

“Oh, no,” said Bat, “I am one of you; I don’t belong to those beasts. Did you ever see one of those people who had wings?”

They didn’t say anything more; they let him stay with them.

So Bat went back and forth as long as the war lasted. At the end of the war, birds and beasts held a council to see what to do with him. At last they said to Bat: “Hereafter, you will fly around alone at night, and will never have any friends, either among those that fly, or those that walk.”

WUS WANTS TO MARRY A BUTTERFLY

CHARACTERS

Djáudjau Flying Squirrel Wálwilégas Butterfly Wus Fox

Wus and his mother lived at Wusnésee. Wus was a middle-aged man. There was a spring of water right by their house, at the foot of a high mountain. It was a nice place to live, and Wus and his mother had been there a long time.

One day Wus asked his mother: “Is there a swimming pond on any of the mountains around here?”

“Why do you want to know?” asked his mother.

“I want to go and swim.”

“You are too old to go; only young men, who want to be great gamblers or doctors, go to those swimming places.”

Wus had fallen in love with a Wálwilégas girl that he had seen near the spring, but his mother didn’t know that.

He kept asking the old woman to tell him where the swimming ponds were, and which were the best ones. She wouldn’t tell him; she always said: “It is too late for you to go to such places. You are too old. You should have gone when you were young. There are no swimming ponds near here.”

“I don’t care how far away they are,” said Wus. “I’m going. You must send for old Djáudjau to come and make holes in my ears and nose.”

“There is no use in making holes in your ears and nose,” said the old woman. “You are too old to go to the swimming ponds. The earth and the mountains won’t listen to what you say.”

When she told old Djáudjau what her son wanted, he said: “It is too late, but let him try; maybe he can get something out of this earth. If the earth pushes him away, he will come home. But I think he is after some woman, and is trying to fool you.” The old man made holes in Wus’ ears and nose, and tied a deerskin blanket around him.

When Wus was ready to start, he asked: “Where are the most powerful swimming places?”

“The first swimming place is on the top of Mlaiksi, the other one is on Mlaiksi’s brother,” said the old man. “But I don’t think you will get to either place.”

“No matter how far away they are,” said Wus, “I can get there.”

“I don’t think you will go far,” said the old man. “I think you are in love with some woman. But if you go, you must do right; don’t stop on the road, except at night, and don’t touch anything. When you get there, you must pile stones and talk to the mountains and the earth. When I was a young man I went to all the swimming places. I talked to the mountains, to the earth, to the trees, and to the rocks. They gave me power and made me strong, but I did just what old people told me to do. If you do your own way, the earth will push you away. I wouldn’t have thought of these things, but you have wakened me out of old age. These things were told to us when the world was made. After you leave here, you mustn’t think of yourself. You must lose yourself. You mustn’t think of what you have in your heart. I can see your heart. I know that you are trying to fool us. After you have been on the mountains and done your work, there will be time enough to get a wife. You must sing on the way and sing as you go around on the mountains; say: ‘My father, I have come to you; I want to be your son. I want you to give me all you can; I want you to put good thoughts in my head.’”

When Wus started, old Djáudjau walked behind him and called to the mountains: “Wake up! wake up! Wus is coming for you to see him and take care of him. You have ears to hear with. I want you to listen to him, and give him all that is in this world.”

When Wus got to the foot of the mountain, he saw that the mountain was covered with snow. It looked so high and cold that he almost turned back. He didn’t think he could live to get to the top, but he kept on walking. He camped ten nights. As he traveled, he sang the song the old man had taught him. All the way the words of old Djáudjau pushed him along. At first he didn’t mean to go, he was fooling his mother. When he was near the top of the mountain, he was so weak that he fell and rolled back—that was because he was too old—but he got up and went on. At dark he was at the top; he piled up stones and talked to the mountain, to the earth, to the sky, to the clouds, to the trees, and to the rocks. Then he lay down and went to sleep.

Wus dreamed that the mountain was a white-headed old man who asked: “What are you doing here? I am the biggest of all the mountains,” said he. “I shall live always. I shall never grow old or die. Is that the kind you want to be? I will give you your life because you have called me father, but you must live where the sun goes down, for other people are coming to live where you are living now.”

When Wus woke up, he started for home. He had been gone a long time, and his mother thought he was lost, but old Djáudjau said: “I know where he is. He has made no mistake.”

When Wus was on the way home, his mother saw a big fire on the top of the mountain. It looked as if it went way up to the sky. Wus didn’t build that fire; the mountain built it to show his mother that Wus had been there. She thought he had gone off somewhere else.

When old Djáudjau knew that Wus was near home, he heated stones and sweated; then he went to meet him. He said: “If you dreamed anything bad, you must tell it; but if you dreamed of the mountain talking to you, you mustn’t tell the dream. The mountain talked to me when I was young. It said that I should never die, that my spirit would live always, that I should live among the mountains—but I shall not have this form much longer.”

Wus was changed. He didn’t look as he did when he went away; he looked better and stronger.

The old man said: “You mustn’t eat meat for ten days. If medicines appeared to you in your dream, you mustn’t eat meat for twenty days.”

“I don’t know about any of the medicines that travel around on this earth,” said Wus.

The old man said: “After ten days I want you to try and get one of those nice-looking Wálwilégas girls for a wife.”

When the ten days were over, Wus sweated, then Djáudjau painted his face and body red and gave him nice clothes. The old man was glad that Wus was the Mountain’s son. He said: “Take your bow and arrows and shoot birds. Don’t pick up the first one you shoot; don’t pull the arrow out; leave the bird right there, as if you threw it away.”

Wus killed a yellow-footed duck and left it on the ground; then he killed other ducks and took them home. The old man had deer meat ready and Wus ate. He was glad to eat; he hadn’t eaten anything since he started to go to the mountain.

When he had eaten enough, he said: “I want to go and see people.” He started out but hadn’t gone far, when he saw a crowd of Wálwilégas girls; they were washing roots in the creek. He watched the girls a long time, then he said: “How beautiful those girls are. They are too small, but they are beautiful. I don’t know which one I like best.”

The girls were on each side of the creek; some of them saw Wus and called out: “There is Wus. He is coming here!” Others said: “No, that isn’t Wus.” The nicest-looking one of all the girls said: “No, that isn’t Wus.” Another girl said: “Yes, it is the same old Wus, but he has been on the mountains; that is why he looks differently.”

Wus went to the bank of the creek and sat down among the girls. That minute all the youngest and nicest-looking girls got up and went away. One of the largest and oldest called out: “Why do you go away? Why don’t you stay here and finish washing your roots?” But they had scattered and gone.

Wus was mad in his heart; he got up and started for home. On the road he came to a house and went in to see who lived there. He found Gíuwas and his wife. They were glad to see him. The woman was kind. She asked: “Have you had anything to eat?”

“No,” said Wus, “I haven’t been hunting. I have been down by the creek where there was a crowd of girls.”

“Those are bad girls,” said the woman. “They act proud, as if they thought every man must fall in love with them; they never feed anybody. How did they treat you?”

“They got up and flew off,” said Wus. “Hereafter, they will travel in that way, but they will be people no longer.”

All the old Wálwilégas women were crying, for their daughters were no longer people. The girls had lost their minds. They had become common butterflies.

After Wus had eaten enough, he said: “I am going now.”

The woman was afraid he would turn them all to animals; she told her husband to hurry to the river where their son was fishing and tell him to get out of the way.

Wus knew their thoughts; he could hear them as if they talked aloud, and he said: “I won’t hurt you or your son.”

When the young man saw Wus coming he hid and Wus went by, didn’t see him.

When Wus got home, his mother asked: “Did you see those nice-looking girls? Did they give you roots to eat?”

“No, they treated me meanly. They are nothing now. They have no minds.”

Wus and his mother moved away from the foot of the mountain, but Djáudjau wouldn’t go. He said: “I am named for the mountains and I will never leave them.”

Old Djáudjau is hunting on those mountains yet. People who travel on high mountains often hear him calling his own name. Wus and his mother went to Klamath Lake, and people say that they live there now.

LOK SNEWÉDJAS

CHARACTERS

Blaiwas Eagle Kai Rabbit Kaiutois Wolf (Gray) Kékina Lizard Kískina Beetle Lok Bear Snewédjas Married woman Tskel Mink Tusasás Skunk

Lok Snewédjas was a woman in the daytime and a bear at night. She lived under the ground on the top of a high mountain; nobody could see her either when she was a bear, or a woman.

A big chief lived in the lava bed country between that mountain and Lake Klamath.

One day his son came home without game. The chief was mad and he scolded. The young man felt badly. His mind told him to go to the mountain and forget his troubles. As soon as he started, a great snow-storm came and the wind blew so terribly, that he could hardly walk. When he got to the foot of the mountain, he sat down under a cedar tree and waited.

Once in a while the clouds went away and it stopped snowing; he could see everywhere. Then it snowed again.

Once, when it was bright, the young man looked up and saw, on the mountain, something hanging on a pole. Lok Snewédjas made him see it. She had seen him when he was hunting and had heard him talk to himself and say he had no friends and no place to go. That made her feel sorry for him. She liked him; she wanted him to come to her.

When the young man saw the pole, he said: “I didn’t know that people lived up there. I have been on this mountain many times, but I have never met anybody or seen any house. I will go and find out who lives there.” As he started, it stopped snowing; he could see everywhere.

When he got to the pole, he found a deer hide on it, and right there by the pole was something that looked like the smoke hole of a house. He stood around a while, then he went in. He found a beautiful house with nice things everywhere. On the north side of the house sat Lok Snewédjas. She was a good-looking woman; she had long black hair and bright eyes. The young man sat down on the south side of the house.

Lok Snewédjas got up, took a pinch of yĕlalwek, a sweet seed that nobody else in the world had, put it in the center of a straw plate, and set the plate down by the young man.

He thought: “I wonder what I am going to do with that little bit of seed?” He took up one seed and put it in his mouth. It melted and was nice and sweet; he thought it was the best thing he had ever eaten. He kept eating, ate fast, but the same amount of seed was always on the plate. He was afraid to be in a strange house with such a powerful woman.

Lok Snewédjas knew his thoughts; she could hear them as well as if he spoke. She gave him pounded deer meat, and he thought: “Where does she get this meat?” She laughed, for she heard him think.

When the young man couldn’t eat any more, he rested his elbow on the ground and put his head on his hand. Right away he was asleep. Lok Snewédjas thought: “I wonder why he is sorry that he came here;” she waited to see if he would wake up and go home. When he woke up, he reached to get a deerskin to put under his head for a pillow. Lok Snewédjas said: “I have made a bed for you, you must lie on it.” He was scared, but he lay where she told him to; then she made him go to sleep. She was afraid if she went to sleep first, he would see her when she was a bear.

In the night the young man woke up. The fire was burning. He looked over to where the woman was sleeping and saw a big black bear; its mouth was open and its long teeth were sticking out. He was terribly frightened; he wanted to run away but he couldn’t move.

Lok Snewédjas woke up; she knew what the young man thought and she felt sorry. She said: “I am this kind; I am a woman in the daytime and a bear at night. I belong to the mountain. The earth is my mother, the mountain is my father. They give me my food and keep me alive. I have always seen you traveling around on the mountain. I saw your heart; I was sorry for you. You felt lonesome; you said you had no kin who cared for you. I liked you and wanted you to come and live with me.”

The young man didn’t speak, but he wasn’t afraid any longer. Just at daylight Lok Snewédjas became a young woman; she was bright and nice to look at. She gave him water to wash his face; she stirred the water with her finger and it rose up like foam. She had everything ready to eat. She never cooked; the mountain and the earth gave her food.

When the young man wanted to track deer, Lok Snewédjas said: “Don’t go far; stay near the house.” Right away he saw a big deer. He killed it and carried it to Lok Snewédjas. After that she only let him hunt once in a long time. She was afraid he would go off and leave her.

“I never stayed at home; I hunted every day,” said the man.

“I know that,” said Snewédjas; “I saw you. You had to kill deer then, but when we have plenty to eat, it’s not right to hunt. The mountain and the earth feed us.”

Blaiwas, Kaiutois, Tskel, Kai, Kískina, Kékina, and all the people who lived in the young man’s village, were out looking for him. They went everywhere on the mountain, but they couldn’t find him. Sometimes they were walking on top of Lok Snewédjas’ house, but they didn’t see it.

One day the woman said: “I hear people crying. Your mother and sisters are mourning for you. Do you want to go and see them?”

“No,” said the young man, “my father abused me. I don’t care for him any longer. I want to stay here with you.”

Lok Snewédjas was glad. She said: “If you are going to stay here, I will tell you about my father and mother. When you walk on the mountain, you are walking on my mother. Don’t harm a tree, or a bush, or a leaf, or anything. Put your mind on the deer you are tracking, and don’t listen to anything. When a deer leads you to the other side of the mountain, you must not touch a plant or even a leaf there. If you do, it will cut your body. On the trail you will see a little animal; then right away you will see a great many of them. If you turn your head to look at them, you will lose your mind; you will wander off on the mountain and get lost. Don’t think of those animals; follow the deer. The animals are there because the mountain doesn’t want you to go where they are. My father doesn’t know you yet, but he knows that you are here with me.”

Once, when the young man was out hunting, he heard a great noise, then he saw a deer standing on the edge of a high rock. He shot at it. The deer reached out its head. The arrow hit one of its horns and bounded back to the bow. The young man said: “Lok Snewédjas forgot to tell me about you.” He didn’t shoot again; he went home. When he got there, he said: “I didn’t kill a deer to-day. I shot at one, but the arrow came back to the bow. The deer stood in the same place, but I didn’t shoot again. I thought I knew the place well, but I never saw that kind of a deer before.”

Lok Snewédjas said: “You saw it because the mountain didn’t want you to kill deer where that deer was. The mountain always whoops and makes a great noise if a stranger goes there. If you had shot a second time, the mountain would have twisted your mouth and body. You must not go there again.”

The young man was afraid now; he said: “My mother and sisters are lonesome; that is why they cry all the time.”

“Why don’t you go and see them?” asked Lok Snewédjas.

“I don’t want to, but I’m going to stay in the house with you.” He stayed in the house a whole year. Lok Snewédjas had a little boy. As soon as he was born, she rubbed him with red paint; after that she rubbed him three times each day; in the morning, in the middle of the day and just as the sun went down. It made the child grow fast.

One night, when the boy was crying, his father said: “I will take him off the board and let him sleep on the mat.”

“We might roll over and kill him,” said the mother.

“No,” said the father, “I will take care of him.” And he took the baby off the board and put it on the mat with its face up against his own face. In the night he woke up and looked at the baby. It was a little bear. The father was frightened. He thought: “Maybe some time my wife or child will kill me, and eat me.” He wondered if his son would be a bear when he was grown up. He was sorry that the child was like its mother.

The mother bear knew what he was thinking about; she turned over, and said: “Uh! uh!” in her sleep. The next morning she asked: “What did you think about in the night?”

“I thought how nice our boy looked when he was a bear. In the daytime he is like both of us, but in the night he is like you.”

The child grew fast. Soon he was walking around. One day the woman asked: “Why don’t you go and see your father and mother?”

“How can I? The boy is too little to go with me.”

“He won’t cry,” said the woman. “When you are half-way he will forget me.”

“If we go to-day, will you go with us?” asked the man.

“I will go to-morrow. I am going to look over my beads to-day,” said the woman. “You can go to-day, but when evening comes don’t let anybody touch our boy, and don’t let him play with the children. At two different times he will turn to a bear,—in his sleep, and toward night, when he plays. There is a Tusasás in that place. In the evening he may play with the child and tease him. If he should, the boy would turn to a bear; then somebody might kill him.”

“I will take care of him,” said the father.

Lok Snewédjas put a handful of yĕlalwek seed in a piece of deerskin, and said: “When you get home put five deerskins on the ground; then, with three of your fingers, take five pinches of the seed and put on each one of the five skins. You will have plenty to feed your father and mother and all the people in the village, but don’t let them carry any of the seed away. If they do, it will spoil this food; we can never use it again.”