Part 5

Then Kumush named the different kinds of food those people should eat,—catfish, salmon, deer and rabbit. He named more than two hundred different things, and as he named them they appeared in the rivers and the forests and the flats. He thought, and they were there. He said: “Women shall dig roots, get wood and water, and cook. Men shall hunt and fish and fight. It shall be this way in later times. This is all I will tell you.”

When he had finished everything Kumush took his daughter, and went to the edge of the world, to the place where the sun rises. He traveled on the sun’s road till he came to the middle of the sky; there he stopped and built his house, and there he lives now.

WANAGA BECOMES WUS-KUMUSH

Two brothers, Kumush and Wanaga, lived east of Tula Lake. Wanaga was uneasy; he didn’t want to be always with Kumush, so one day he started off toward the northwest to hunt for woodchucks. When he had killed five, he took out the intestines, cleaned them, filled them with fat and cooked them in front of the fire. The bodies he cooked on hot stones. He was eating the intestines when his brother came up to the fire. Kumush’s face was wet, he had run so fast.

Wanaga was mad, but he said: “Now you are here, come and eat some of these intestines.”

Kumush didn’t want a part of the intestines; he wanted them all, and wanted the woodchucks, too, so he asked: “Which way did you come?”

Wanaga told him, but told him wrong.

Kumush said: “I saw a long track the way I came. I thought it was yours.”

“Why don’t you eat?” asked Wanaga.

“I can’t, my heart beats so. I am scared; I feel as if some one were near here, watching us. I will go down the hill and look around in the bushes.”

Kumush went into thick bushes where Wanaga couldn’t see him; he pulled every hair out of his head, eyebrows, eye-lashes, ears, beard, armpits, pulled out every hair on his body, and said to them: “You must be people; you must scream and shout and run after me, as if you were going to catch me and kill me.”

Right away the hairs became men, and pursued Kumush. As he ran, Kumush screamed: “Wanaga, save yourself! Wanaga, save yourself!”

Wanaga started up, then he remembered his bow and arrows. He got them, then he ran off as fast as he could; he forgot all about the five woodchucks.

As soon as Wanaga was out of sight, the hairs were back in Kumush’s head and body, and he sat down to eat the woodchucks. As he ate he kept saying: “My brother, you shouldn’t eat such nice things alone; I like woodchucks.”

Wanaga felt lonesome, for he thought that Kumush had been killed. As he traveled along, he caught a woodchuck. Then he saw another one, and he followed it and killed it with a club; he killed a third one among the rocks. He built a fire and cooked the woodchucks. Just as he was beginning to eat the intestines, he heard Kumush call out: “Oh, I am glad you are alive. I was afraid those men had killed you.”

When Kumush came up to the fire he said: “I hid under the bushes where they couldn’t find me; that is how I got away! I saw tracks out here; are they yours?”

“I didn’t come that way,” said Wanaga.

“I feel queer,” said Kumush; “I will go back and see if there is any one around. I am scared.”

When he got where Wanaga couldn’t see him, he pulled all his hair out again, and said: “Be men! As soon as you are near the woods, make a ring around me and act as if you were going to kill me.”

When they surrounded him, Kumush screamed: “Save yourself, Wanaga! Run for your life! These men will kill you.”

Wanaga took his bow, quiver and club and ran off as fast as he could; he forgot about his woodchucks again, and Kumush ate them, saying: “My brother, you shouldn’t eat such good things alone.”

The next day Wanaga kept thinking about Kumush. At last he said to himself: “If Kumush wasn’t killed yesterday he is fooling me.”

Wanaga killed five woodchucks and this time he cooked them without taking out the intestines. Just as he was ready to begin eating, he saw Kumush coming. When Kumush came up to the fire he pretended to cry, he was so glad that Wanaga was alive. Wanaga offered him part of a woodchuck, but he wouldn’t take it. He said that he couldn’t eat; he had seen tracks, and the grass was trampled down as if people were around; he would go and see.

Wanaga thought: “You’ll not fool me this time!” When Kumush screamed to him to run as fast as he could, he ran, but he took the woodchucks with him.

Wanaga traveled for two days without camping. Kumush was hungry, but he followed his brother. The third day Wanaga caught a wood chuck. He was cooking it when Kumush came up.

“I have been mourning for you,” said Kumush. “I thought you were killed. Over there by the bushes I saw tracks; I will go and look at them.” He tried the old trick, but Wanaga wasn’t fooled; he took the woodchuck with him.

It was cold, but Kumush followed Wanaga. He followed him all winter. In the spring, when Kumush was only one day behind, Wanaga came upon porcupine tracks. He made a fire near an old tree where he thought the porcupines would come when it began to grow dark. He hadn’t been there long before he saw a porcupine and killed it; then he saw another and killed it. The next day, when he was cooking the porcupines, Kumush came up. “How did you kill those porcupines?” asked he.

Wanaga was mad, but he said: “Sit down and eat, then I will tell you how I catch porcupines.” When they were through eating, Wanaga said: “If I want to kill porcupines, I find a tree where I think they live; I set fire to the tree, then I wrap my blanket tight around me and lie down under it; when the tree gets to burning well, the porcupines fall out of it.”

Wanaga traveled on, and Kumush stopped to kill porcupines. He set a tree on fire, wrapped his blanket tight around him and lay down. The tree burned quickly, and soon limbs began to fall. A heavy bough fell on Kumush, and he thought: “That is a big porcupine!” Another fell. Kumush lay still; he thought: “Oh, I shall have lots of big, fat porcupines!” At last the tree fell and killed him. His body was burned up, nothing was left of it but the skull and the disk. They lay in the ashes for a long time; at last the morning star saw them and called out: “What is the matter, old man? Why do you sleep so long? Get up!”

Kumush sprang up, and right away began to track Wanaga. It was warm weather, and Wanaga was hunting woodchucks among the rocks. He had killed five when Kumush came. Wanaga divided the meat with his brother, and the two spent the night together.

“How do you kill woodchucks?” asked Kumush.

“When I see one among the rocks, I jump down and catch it. It is easy for me; I am used to it.”

They started on together, Wanaga ahead. Kumush saw a woodchuck; he jumped and caught it, then he cooked and ate it, for Wanaga had told him he must eat the first one he caught before he tried to catch another. When his stomach was full, he saw a woodchuck down in a hole between high rocks; he jumped, struck on the rocks, burst open and died.

His body lay there a long time; then crows came and ate it up, till only the disk was left. They tried to eat that, but couldn’t. At last the morning star saw the disk and cried out: “What are you doing down there, old man? Get up. Wanaga has gone far; you must hurry!”

Kumush sprang up. “Oh, I was sleeping!” said he.

Wanaga turned back. He wished for a wide river to flow between him and his brother, and right away it was there. Kumush traveled up and down the river. After a long time he found a ford and crossed. Wanaga was on Pitcowa flat, where a great deal of ges was growing. He got two sticks, umda, sharp at both ends, took them out on the flat, showed them the ges, and said: “Work hard. Dig lots of ges!”

They dug fast and made a great many piles of ges. At sundown, Wanaga went to the flat; he washed a few roots and ate them; they were nice and white, and the skin came off of itself. He carried the sticks back to his camp. The next day, when Kumush came, Wanaga gave him plenty of roots to eat.

“How did you get all of these roots?” asked Kumush.

“I made two sticks, one straight, the other bent. Then I took them to the flat and told them to dig.”

Kumush cut five sticks and sharpened them at both ends. Wanaga said: “You must take them to the flat and leave them; you mustn’t go near them till sundown.”

Kumush took his sticks to the flat, put a basket by each stick, and said: “You must work hard; you must dig plenty of roots.” He went back, but he couldn’t wait, and in a few minutes he ran over to see if the umda were digging fast. That made them mad and they stopped digging. He went back again, for he thought that when he was out of sight they would go to work, but they didn’t.

The next morning Wanaga made small, and put into two baskets, the piles of ges his sticks had dug. (When he wanted to, he poured out the ges, thought hard, and it was big again.)

Kumush was so mad that he broke up his sticks and threw them away.

Wanaga took his sticks to the flat, stuck them in the ground, and said: “Grow here and be of use to people in later times.”

The sticks grew, and are the kind that are used in digging roots now. When he had planted the sticks, Wanaga said: “Hereafter I will be Wus-Kumush.” Then he left Kumush, stole away in the night. Kumush stayed two or three days. When he had eaten all the ges Wanaga left, he went off toward the east. Thenceforth he traveled about in the world, alone.

STEALING FIRE

CHARACTERS

Blaiwas Eagle Dásläts California Lion Gowwá Swallow Kāhkaas Stork Kânoa A Small Bird Káwhas Blackbird Kéis Rattlesnake Kékina Lizard Kówe Frog Kûlta Otter Lok Bear Moi Squirrel Múkus Owl Nébăks Sickness Sältgăls The Red of Morning Súbbas Sun Tcanpsaudewas The People to Come Tcwais Turkey Buzzard Tsĭhläs Red Squirrel Tusasás Skunk Tskel Mink Wámanik Bull Snake Wûlkûtska Black Marten Wus Black Fox

The ten Nébăks brothers, who lived in the east at the edge of the world, and the ten Súbbas brothers, who lived in the west, where the sky touches the earth, were the owners of fire.

Other people had no fire, they ate their meat raw, but they knew about fire, and were thinking how to get it; they knew that those men owned it.

At last Wus called a council of all the people in the world. When they had assembled, he said: “I feel sorry for the people who are to come.” (He had heard that people would come soon, and that he and his people would no longer be persons. He called the people who were to come Tcanpsaudewas.) “It will be hard for them in the world if they have no way of keeping warm. I know where fire is, and if you will help me I will get it.”

All promised to help, then Wus said: “You must stand in a line, one person a long running distance from another, and the line must reach from here to within one running distance of the place where the Nébăks have their house. I will go to the house and steal fire, but you must bring it home.”

Wus sent the best runner to the farthest station, the second fastest runner to the second station and so on, till near home he placed men who could run only a little, men who soon tired out. The Kéis family he sent underground. People who traveled in the air formed a line above the earth.

“We will tell you how the Nébăks brothers live,” said the people of the air, “for we see them often. Every morning they build fires on the mountains to drive deer to their snares. When you see a big smoke, you will know that you are near their house. Two Moi brothers are the servants of the Nébăks. The Mois never hunt; they stay in the house and watch that no one steals fire.”

Wus traveled toward the east for a good many days. At last he reached the Nébăks’ house without being seen by the brothers, or by their servants. When he went through the smoke hole into the house, the Moi brothers were terribly scared; one ran out to call the Nébăks, but Wus drove him back.

“Why are you frightened?” asked he. “I have come to talk to you. Sit down. Why don’t you have your faces painted? you would look nice. I know how to paint; I will paint them for you.”

He took dead coals, drew long lines across their faces and said: “Go to the spring and look at yourselves.” (From that time those people have stripes on their faces.)

As soon as they were out of the house, Wus took the largest piece of fire, put it behind his ear and ran off as fast as he could. When he picked up the coal, the fires on the mountains died down.

“Somebody is in our house,” said the Nébăks brothers. “Somebody has stolen fire!” And they hurried home.

When Wus had fire behind his ear, he ran a long distance, ran till he met Tskel. Tskel took fire and ran till he came to Kaiutois; the next man to carry fire was Dásläts. Dásläts carried it till he came to Wámanik, who was stationed under the ground.

The Nébăks brothers were fast runners and they nearly caught Wámanik. He was so scared that he was just going to drop fire and run off when he met Tsĭhläs and gave it to him. The next to carry fire was Lok. Lok was a slow runner and the Nébăks nearly came up to him before he met Moi, a fast runner. When Moi was getting tired, and was running slower, he came to Kékina. Kékina sprang away and was soon far ahead. When he reached Wûlkûtska the Nébăks brothers were a long way off, but Wûlkûtska was not a good runner, and the Nébăks gained on him fast. They got so near that he hid in the bushes and gave out a frightened call. Kûlta was waiting right there; he snatched fire and ran as fast as he could till he was tired and was thinking: “Where is the man who is going to take fire? I can’t hold out much longer.”

Then he met Tusasás. Blaiwas took fire from Tusasás; he went up in the air and carried fire a long distance, until Gowwá took it. When darkness came, Múkus was there to carry fire, and he and his people carried it till daylight. Then Sältgăls took it, and afterward Káwhas. Káwhas was about to drop it, when he saw Tcwais and called: “Take it quick! I am tired! I can’t hold it; I shall let it drop.”

Tcwais looked back as he started. The Nébăks were so near that his head turned yellow from fright, but he reached the next man—and so they carried fire day after day, till the ocean was not far off. Only a few runners were left, and some of them couldn’t run ten steps.

At last wood dove took fire, but the Nébăks brothers were so near that he hid in the bushes. He thought: “Now they will kill me, and then people will never have fire.” It made him feel lonesome; and he cried, not loud, but down in his throat.

The Nébăks heard his cry, and said: “We can never overtake these people; that cry is far off. We can’t get fire back, but the people who have stolen it will have us with them always. We will stay in their country; we won’t go back to our old place; we will scatter and live everywhere in the world.”

Till that time the Nébăks brothers had lived by themselves, and had never troubled people. After fire was stolen, they were everywhere in the world. People had fire, but they had sickness too.

Wus-Kumush saw this race, but he didn’t help, for at the council, when he told the people what would happen, they wouldn’t listen to his words. They liked the words of Wus better.

Now Wus called a second council of all the people in the world, and when they came he said: “What else shall we do for the people who are coming? I think we should steal fire from the brothers who live in the west, at the edge of the world. I can go there and get it.”

“Kāhkaas, Súbbas’ servant, will see you,” said the people; “you will never get there.”

“Oh, I can get there,” said Wus. “I will kill the ten brothers and come back. It will not be hard.”

“What will you do when you get to the house? No person has ever been there.”

“Don’t kill all the brothers,” said Wus-Kumush. “If you do it will be dark here. There will never be any light again. It will always be night.”

“You will freeze to death,” said some of the people. “There is deep snow along that trail.”

“I will build ten houses, where I can rest and get warm.”

“Before you get to Súbbas’ house there is a long, broad flat,” said Blaiwas. “The brothers dig roots there. I often see them when I am up in the air. Near the house there is a high mountain. You must go to the top of it and watch the brothers from there. When they start for home, there is always a terrible snowstorm. The eldest brother goes first, and one follows another. In the morning, when they start to hunt for roots, the youngest goes first.”

When Wus came to the mountain he talked to it and asked it for help; then he watched for the brothers. Soon he saw the youngest brother come out of the house and start toward the flat. One brother followed another till all ten had gone to dig roots; then Wus went toward the house. The house was made of dirt and covered with turf. Kāhkaas didn’t see Wus coming; when he sprang in at the smoke hole Kāhkaas screamed out. Wus jumped on him, choked him and scolded him; then he threw him into a corner, and said: “When I come to see you, what makes you scream? I want to talk nice to you; I want you to go home with me. This is a bad place. I will give you shells and nice beads.”

“I will go out and make just a little noise,” said Kāhkaas, “and then the brothers won’t come home; that is the way I do.”

Wus let him go out, but he followed him so he wouldn’t scream loud.

The brothers heard Kāhkaas and one said: “What’s the matter? I heard something.” When they heard him the second time they said: “Oh, that is Kāhkaas at play.”

“How do these men live?” asked Wus.

“Every morning they go early to dig roots; they dig all day, then one brother comes home. When he gets to the house, he puts down his basket of roots, comes to the smoke hole and looks all around to see if any one is here; then he comes in. Each brother comes in the same way; each one brings a basketful of roots, and each looks around the house before he comes in. The five oldest brothers come first, then the five youngest follow. As each one starts for home, there is a terrible snowstorm. I build a big fire from that pile of sticks outside the house. The snow and cold almost put the fire out, but I keep putting on sticks.”

“Where can I hide, so that they won’t see me when they look around?” asked Wus.

“They don’t look toward the east,” said Kāhkaas; “you must hide in the east part of the house, in the hole where we keep roots.”

“Hide me there,” said Wus. “I am going to take you home with me. You must tie up a bundle of roots for us to eat on the road. You will have to eat a good deal or you will give out. It is a long road.”

The eldest brother was coming, so Kāhkaas built a great fire. When the man got to the house he put down his basket of roots and looked in at the smoke hole; he looked all around, then asked: “Why did you scream?”

“It was getting late; I wanted you to come home,” said Kāhkaas.

Just then Wus sprang at Súbbas and cut off his head. He and Kāhkaas pulled the body in and hid it; then they put the head in the hole where the roots were.

Again it began to snow; the second brother was coming. Soon he looked in at the smoke hole, and asked: “Why did you scream?”

“I missed the step and fell into the house,” said Kāhkaas.

“We have always told you to be careful,” said Súbbas.

That moment Wus sprang up. Súbbas screamed, but Wus cut his head off and dragged the head and the body to the hole where the roots were.

When the third brother came he asked: “What noise was that? I thought I heard my brother scream.”

“I was screaming,” said Kāhkaas. “I wanted to hurry you home.”

Wus killed the third brother, as he had the other two.

Again it began snowing; the fourth brother was coming. Wus told Kāhkaas that he must work around as he always did. “You must not talk,” said Kāhkaas; “he will hear you. He is stronger than the other brothers.”

Súbbas looked in at the smoke hole, and asked: “Why don’t you brush up the snow? What makes it so yellow?”

“I’ve been walking in the ashes,” said Kāhkaas.

Súbbas was just going to draw his head up out of the smoke hole and come down into the house, when Wus sprang at him and cut his head off. That time a good deal of blood was left. Kāhkaas couldn’t clean it up; it made the snow yellow.

Wus was afraid the fifth brother would see the blood. “I will go outside and kill him,” said he.

“You mustn’t do that,” said Kāhkaas. “If you do the other brothers will see you.”

Súbbas was at the house now; he left his basket outside and looked in. “Why does it look so around here?” asked he. “It looks queer.”

“Oh, I’ve worked around a good deal,” said Kāhkaas, “that is why it looks queer.”

Súbbas stretched half his length in to see that no one was there and Wus sprang at him and cut his head off.

“Now the other five brothers will come,” said Kāhkaas. “They come quicker, for it is getting late.” The fifth brother had screamed louder when Wus killed him. His brothers had heard his scream and they were running.

Wus jumped out of the house and started for home. Kāhkaas picked up the bundle, put it on his back and followed. Both ran as fast as they could; sometimes Kāhkaas got ahead of Wus, then Wus was ahead. The wind blew terribly. Wus’ ears were filled with snow, and he was almost frozen. They were giving out when they reached the last house that Wus had built; the fire was still burning. They had just got warm when they heard the brothers coming, and started off again. They ran till Kāhkaas said: “I’m so tired I can’t run any farther!”

“Hurry,” said Wus. “They won’t overtake us. We are near the next house.” They reached the ninth house, and the fire was burning.

“Look and see if they are coming,” said Wus.

“Not yet.”

After a while Kāhkaas looked again. “They are coming!” called he. And off the two ran as fast as they could. When they got near the eighth house, the brothers were close behind.

“I am afraid!” said Kāhkaas.

“I am not,” said Wus, but he kept on running, though snow was in his ears and in his hair; he was almost frozen. They stopped at the seventh house, but Kāhkaas looked back and said: “They are coming; they are not far away!”

The brothers were tired. They began to think that they couldn’t overtake Wus and Kāhkaas. They still carried their baskets. Wus didn’t stop at the sixth or fifth house.

“Don’t open your mouth so wide,” said Kāhkaas; “if you do, it will fill with snow.”

“No matter,” said Wus, “that will help me to run.”

When the brothers reached the fifth house and found it empty, the elder said: “Let us be only five. We can never catch up with the man who killed our brothers, and stole our servant. Let us go back, but we will always watch this country. We won’t let any one come here again. I thought we were the strongest people in the world. I wonder who this man is.”

They didn’t know the people of this world; they had always lived by themselves. The only man they knew about was Kāhkaas.

When the people saw Wus coming, they went to one place to wait for him. They talked about him, and said: “Wus is a smart man; we couldn’t have done what he has done.” When Wus came up to them, they saw that he had Kāhkaas with him. Kāhkaas still had his bundle of roots, for he hadn’t had time to eat many. Everybody was glad now, for there was summer and winter. Up to that time people had had only clouds and storms.

After a while Wus said: “We must do another thing for the Tcanpsaudewas. We have done a good deal,—they will have two kinds of fire,—but there is too much cold. We must hold a council and decide how much cold they can have,—how long winter will be.”