Part 7

This is how old age came into our world. If the five brothers had let the old man and his wife alone, they would have stayed in their own country, and there would have been no such thing as old age.

Komúchass turned the bodies of the five brothers into five rocks, and those rocks are still to be seen in the Klamath country.

LEMÉIS AND NUL-WE

CHARACTERS

Kókolaileyas The Necklace (Kŏko means bone) Leméis or Limālimáas Thunder Nul-we

Old Limālimáas was a man-eater. He lived among big rocks at one end of a long, swampy flat. At the other end of the swamp lived an old woman and her little grandson. Limālimáas had killed all the old woman’s kin, except the boy. He had strung their elbow and ankle bones on a grass rope and he wore them for a necklace. People called him Kókolaileyas, (Bone Necklace).

The grandmother was too old to dig roots, so the little boy dug them for her. One day Limālimáas saw the boy digging; he crept up and lay down near him, and when the boy’s basket was full of nice, white roots, he ate them all at a mouthful. After that, he came every day. No matter where the boy went to dig, Limālimáas followed him. If the boy ate a root while he was digging, Limālimáas struck him on the forehead with his hammer. He listened and knew when he took a root. The little boy felt badly; he wanted to carry roots to his grandmother, for he knew she was hungry. He cried all the time he was digging, cried “Nul-we! Nul-we!” (that was his name). He always went home at sundown.

One day he cried on the way home. His grandmother heard him, and said: “My grandson, you mustn’t cry so loud. A bad man lives among the big rocks. He will hear you and come where you are digging. Maybe he will kill you; he has killed your father and your mother and all your kin.”

The next morning, when Nul-we went to dig roots, Limālimáas came, and said: “Little Nul-we, I am waiting for you; I am hungry. I want you to grow fast and get big, then I will kill you and eat you. I will put your bones in my necklace, between the bones of your father and the bones of your mother, and they will make my necklace nice and long.”

That evening, when Nul-we went home without any roots, his grandmother said: “When you were a little fellow, you brought your basket full of roots. Now it is always empty. I am hungry. I have only dry, old roots to eat.”

“I eat all the roots I dig,” said Nul-we; then he cried, he was so sorry for his grandmother. He didn’t want to tell her about Limālimáas.

The next morning, as soon as Nul-we began digging, Limālimáas came, rattling his bone necklace as he traveled. He lay down right by Nul-we, and said: “Little boy, I am tired; peel me some nice, white roots.” When he had eaten the roots, he took hold of his necklace, rattled it, and said, as he divided the bones: “These are your father’s bones; these are your mother’s bones; these are your sister’s bones; these are your brother’s bones; these are your grandfather’s bones. Now dig away, little boy; when you are big enough, your bones will be in my necklace.”

That day Nul-we dug four basketfuls, and Limālimáas ate them all. Then he said: “Little boy, you should kill me, for I have eaten your father and your mother and all your kin.” Then Nul-we thought: “Maybe I could kill this bad old man; I will get a bow and arrow and try.”

The next day, when Limālimáas had eaten all the roots, he said: “Little boy, you should kill me; I have killed all your kin. You must shoot me in the body; that is where I keep my heart.”

That night the grandmother asked: “Why don’t you bring me roots? I am hungry; you shouldn’t eat them all.”

“I dig roots early in the morning,” said Nul-we, “then I eat them and lie down and sleep all day.”

“That isn’t true,” said his grandmother, “you don’t deceive me; somebody takes your roots away from you.”

“I want you to make me a bow and arrow,” said Nul-we, “and put poison in the end of the arrow. I miss all the birds I shoot at with sticks.”

In the morning Limālimáas said to him: “I think you are about big enough to eat.”

That night Nul-we said to his grandmother: “I dig a great many roots, but a bad man comes and eats them all. He wears a necklace made of bones. He says they are the bones of my father and of my mother and of all my kin; and that my bones will make the necklace nice and long.”

The grandmother was frightened, for she knew it was old Limālimáas, the man who lived among the rocks. She gave Nul-we his father’s strong bow and put fresh points on the arrows; then she made the bow and arrows look like a little boy’s first bow and arrows, and said: “That man’s heart isn’t in his body; it’s in the end of his first finger; you must shoot him there.”

When Limālimáas came, the boy fed him lots of roots. He dug fast and gave the old man all he could eat. Then Limālimáas lay down to sleep. Usually he lay with his head on his hands, but that time he lay with his face up and his hands spread out. Nul-we got his arrow ready, and made up his mind which way to run; then, when he saw something moving in Limālimáas’ finger, he shot. The heart came out on the end of the arrow.

Limālimáas sprang up and ran after the boy. Ever so many times he almost caught him, but each time Nul-we dodged and got away. At last they came to a dried up river-bed where there were big rocks and deep holes. Limālimáas was getting weak; he stumbled and fell into a hole. Nul-we ran across the river-bed; then he turned and called to Limālimáas: “You shall not live in this world and kill people. Hereafter you will make a great noise, but you will not have the power to harm anybody. When another strikes, you will shout for him; that is all you will be able to do.”

Nul-we took the heart off the end of his arrow, blew it up into the sky, and said: “You can go up there and live; you can’t live down here any longer.”

Now Nul-we could dig roots and carry them to his grandmother; he was glad, and he didn’t cry any more.

The old man-eater became Thunder.

WIND AND THUNDER

CHARACTERS

Galaíwa Mouse Káwhas Blackbird Leméis Thunder Mówas Sléwis South Wind Tániäs Sléwis North Wind Tcûskai Weasel Tskel Mink

Tcûskai and Tskel lived together on North Wind Mountain (east of Klamath marsh). Tskel thought it was time to have a wife. He knew there were women off in the north, so he said to Tcûskai: “Go to Sycan and get two women.” When Tcûskai got to the place, the women were digging roots. He snatched their caps and ran home with them. All the women followed him. In that old time this was one way of getting a wife. A man stole something a woman was wearing; then she knew he wanted her, and she followed him home.

When Tcûskai brought so many caps, Tskel was angry. He said: “Why do you always make trouble? I sent you for two women, and you have brought a great many. What will you do now?”

Tcûskai kept two of the caps and threw the other ones away. When the women came, they picked up their caps and went home; only two women stayed. After a while each woman had a little boy. They rubbed the children with ashes, and they grew fast.

As soon as the boys could run around and play, they began to quarrel. Tcûskai made them arrows to shoot birds and squirrels with; after that, when they got angry, they shot at each other. Then Tcûskai made them arrows with poisoned points, and one day when they were fighting, they killed each other.

Tcûskai stayed in the house, but he knew what had happened; he always knew everything. Tskel was away hunting for deer. As soon as he came home, he looked around for his boys; when he found that the two boys were dead, he called Tcûskai and they burned the bodies. Then Tskel said to his brother: “I want you to travel in the mountains and swim in the ponds. After that you can go south and cut off Mówas Sléwis’ head.”

Tcûskai wanted to go north.

Tskel said: “If Tániäs Sléwis should put out his head, you would die. He would cover everything with ice, and you would freeze to death.”

“I can go north as well as you can,” said Tcûskai. “I don’t want to go south; you can go there.”

“Go north if you want to,” said Tskel. “It won’t be my fault if you are killed.”

They went to all the high mountains and swam in the swimming pools, then Tcûskai went to Tániäs Sléwis’ home, and his brother went south to Mówas Sléwis’ home.

When Tcûskai got near Tániäs Sléwis’ house, he rolled himself up tight in his blanket, but as soon as Tániäs Sléwis stuck his head out to see who was around, Tcûskai died. Wind and cold cut through his body and killed him. When Tániäs Sléwis drew his head in, Tcûskai came to life.

Tskel was at Mówas Sléwis’ place, but he saw Tcûskai and knew what was happening. Mówas Sléwis put his head out, Tskel cut it off, skinned it, and made himself a cap of the skin. Tskel had his emi [8] in his hand. Nothing in the world could break that knife, but whatever it was thrown at broke—Tskel made it that way by thinking hard. As soon as he had cut off Mówas Sléwis’ head, he went north to help his brother. When he got to Tániäs Sléwis’ house, he put Tcûskai under his blanket, and watched for Sléwis to put his head out. Tskel could endure the cold, for he had on the cap made of the skin of Mówas Sléwis’ head.

As soon as Tániäs Sléwis put his head out, Tskel cut it off. Now both Mówas Sléwis and Tániäs Sléwis were killed, and that is why it is not as cold in winter, or as hot in summer as it used to be. Their bodies are dead, but their spirits are alive. The wind that blows from the south is Mówas Sléwis’ spirit, and the wind that comes from the north is Tániäs Sléwis’ spirit.

Tskel skinned Tániäs Sléwis’ head, and now he had two caps.

When they got home Tcûskai wanted the cap made of Tániäs Sléwis’ head, for whenever he put it on he could freeze people to death, but Tskel wouldn’t give it to him. He was afraid that Tcûskai wasn’t strong enough to wear it; that it would freeze him to death.

Tskel said: “The five Leméis brothers are bad men; they kill people and eat them. Their house is in a deep place, and there are great rocks around it. The tallest tree in the world wouldn’t reach to the bottom of the house. Our sister, who married Kaiutois lives there with her husband and his five brothers; we will go and visit her.”

Gäk and Káwhas went with Tcûskai and Tskel. When they came to the house the men were off hunting; only old Leméis and his wife and daughter and Kaiutois’ wife were at home. Tskel had on the cap made of Tániäs Sléwis’ head. The minute he went into the house ice was everywhere. Old Leméis and his wife were terribly scared; they thought somebody had come who was stronger than they were. They wanted to get away as soon as they could, but the ladder was covered with ice, and they kept slipping back into the house. At last they got out.

Kaiutois’ wife and children were warm. Tskel made it so, for she was his sister.

Old Leméis’ daughter was meaner than her brothers. The belt around her waist was made of men’s bones; she killed men by making them put on that belt. As soon as the belt was around a man’s waist, the bones pressed together until they cut him in two. She handed the belt to Tskel and told him to put it on.

He said: “I will put on your belt, if you will put on my cap first.” She put the cap on. It pressed her head and almost froze her to death, but she snatched it off and ran out of the house. She was scared.

Outside old Leméis and his wife were crying with cold. The eldest of the five brothers came with two men in his belt. His father said: “There is somebody in our house who is stronger than we are.”

“There is nobody in the world stronger than I am,” said the young man. “I will kill the man who is in there.” He put one foot on the ladder, but sprang back and began to scream.

The second brother came with dead men in his belt. He said he was the strongest person in the world, but the minute he put one foot on the ladder, he sprang back, crying with cold.

The third brother put his foot on the second rung of the ladder, then he turned back. He roared terribly; he tried to frighten Tskel, but Tskel wasn’t afraid.

The fourth brother came with four dead men in his belt; one was kin to Tskel. He went down four rungs of the ladder, then sprang back; the dead man who was kin to Tskel slipped out of his belt and fell inside. Tskel made that so by thinking. Then he brought the dead man to life.

When the youngest and strongest one of the brothers came, he got down the ladder into the house, but he was out as soon as he was in. Just at sundown Kaiutois came with a deer on his back. Tskel took his cap off and Tcûskai put on his cap made of South Wind’s head. Right away all the ice was gone.

Now the Leméis brothers came inside. They built a big fire and heated rocks, put the rocks in a basket of water, and boiled pieces of the men they had brought home. Kaiutois roasted deer meat and gave it to his brothers-in-law. Gäk and Káwhas ate the meat old Leméis gave them. That is why crows and blackbirds eat any dead thing they can find.

After eating, everybody lay down. The five Leméis brothers lay in a row; they were watching, for they wanted to kill Tskel.

Káwhas had bright eyes; when he was asleep the Leméis brothers thought he was awake. Tskel made the five brothers go to sleep. They had long hair and Tskel tied one brother’s hair to another’s, till he had the five tied together. He did this so that when they woke up each one would think that his brother was pulling his hair, and all of them would get to fighting. Tcûskai, Tskel, Gäk, Káwhas, Kaiutois and his wife went outside. Tskel hired Galaíwa to fill all the holes in the house with pitch and pile pitch wood up around it; when that was done he set fire to the place.

When the house began to burn, the five brothers sprang up; that made their hair pull and they began to fight one another with their long flint knives. Soon they were all dead. Their bodies were burned up, but their hearts flew out of the fire. Tcûskai and Tskel were watching, and as soon as a heart came out they pushed it back into the fire. They did this till each heart burst and the spirit came out and went away. Four of the hearts were destroyed, but the heart of the youngest and strongest brother got away from Tskel. It went up to the sky and became Leméis. Leméis is up there yet; we hear him when he travels around.

Klamath Indians think that Thunder is a little fellow with very long hair.

GÁUKOS AND KÛLTA

CHARACTERS

Gáukos Moon Kówe Frog Kûlta Otter Lok Bear Weketas A Small Green Frog

Gáukos and Kûlta had a house among the rocks on the east side of Klamath Lake. On the west side of the lake lived the ten Kówe sisters, beautiful little women. Their clothes were covered with beads and porcupine quills. They were powerful women, too; they could do anything they wanted. A Weketas woman lived with the ten sisters. She was big and ugly, and the only thing she could do was to bring people to life.

Gáukos grew lonesome. He was tired of living in the world. Kûlta said: “I will go and tell the ten sisters that you want a wife. With a woman to cook for us, it won’t be lonesome.”

Kûlta went to the ten sisters, and said: “A young man on the east side of the lake wants one of you for a wife, but he don’t know which one.”

Each one of the ten sisters got ready to go; they cooked nice roots and pounded sweet seeds. They put on new moccasins and dresses, pulled their canoe into the water, and started. Weketas had nothing to cook and nothing new to wear. She had on a ragged old cap, and was half naked, but she went to row the canoe. The sisters kept pushing her, and saying: “Row faster, ugly thing! Row faster!”

Gáukos sat on the rocks where he could watch the sisters. When they reached land, they left the canoe, one by one. To the first one Gáukos said: “Not you; another.” To the second sister he said the same, and so on to the last.

Kûlta told them to go back to the canoe; then he said to Gáukos: “Tell me which one you want.”

“The one at the end of the canoe.”

“What do you want of that ugly thing?” asked Kûlta. “You should take one of those nice girls.”

“I will take the one I know will be best for me, the one that will live in my heart and always save me.”

“Don’t take that ugly Weketas woman,” said Kûlta.

“I don’t want to live around here,” said Gáukos. “Every night, I see some of the big-mouthed people. They are watching me; they like to eat such men as I am.”

“How can that ugly Weketas woman save you?” asked Kûlta.

“If there should be only a little bit of me left in Lok’s mouth, she would bring me to life,” said Gáukos.

Kûlta was willing now, but the ten sisters wouldn’t let the Weketas woman pass them. She crept along on the edge of the canoe, and each sister pinched her as she passed; they made her arms and legs bleed.

Gáukos wiped the blood off, rubbed her with deer tallow, and gave her a nice blanket. Then he put her in his bosom and started off toward the east. As he left, he said to Kûlta: “You will see me every month; I shall live always and will always travel on the sky.”

To this day Gáukos travels and he always will travel. People can see Weketas, for Gáukos still carries her in his bosom. Sometimes they can see Weketas’ children lying near her. When Súbbas comes, and Gáukos is still in the west, he gets eaten up by the big-mouthed people, but Weketas always brings him to life and will do so just as long as he carries her in his bosom.

TCOITCAK AND HIS PACK

CHARACTERS

Tcoitcak A Bird (English name unknown) Tcûskai Weasel Tskel Mink

Once Tcoitcak was going along near the house where two brothers, Tcûskai and Tskel, lived. He was carrying a big pack on his back. Tcûskai liked to stay outside the house looking around. Tskel scolded him for not staying at home, so when he went away he always left his tail hanging down inside the smoke hole and left his voice with his tail. He said: “If Tskel calls me, you must answer: ‘I am here’!”

When Tcûskai saw the man coming with a big pack, he went to meet him. “What are you packing?” asked he.

Tcoitcak didn’t answer.

“Let me see what you have in your pack,” said Tcûskai.

The man kept walking along, but didn’t speak. Tcûskai followed him and teased him to tell what he was carrying. “Sit down and rest,” said Tcûskai. “That pack is too heavy to keep on your back all the time.”

At last Tcoitcak got angry; he pulled the pack off his back and put it on the ground. In that big bundle Tcoitcak had lots and lots of little bundles. Tcûskai untied the big bundle, snatched one of the little bundles and opened it. Out came Darkness, and that minute it spread all over the world. It was black everywhere. Tcûskai couldn’t see, but he snatched a second bundle and pulled it open. A crowd of stars came out.

In the big pack there were bundles of all kinds. Twilight was in one bundle, Daybreak in another. Each big star that has a name was tied up in a separate bundle,—Morning Star in one, Evening Star in another. Whatever time there is of day or night was in Tcoitcak’s pack. Clouds, Rain, Snow, everything was there.

Tcûskai was lost in the darkness. He ran around everywhere, but couldn’t find his way home.

Tskel knew what Tcûskai had done, and that he couldn’t find his way home. He let him run around for a long time, then he pointed his flint knife toward the east, and cut a hole in the darkness to let light in.

It is because Tcûskai was running around so long in the dark that nights are so long and dark in winter time.

WITSDUK

CHARACTERS

Tcutûk Rock Squirrel Witsduk Snow that the Wind Blows and Drifts Wus Fox

When Witsduk was a person, her home was in the Modoc country; she and her family were that snow which the wind carries in every direction. Wherever they went, they made people shiver, blinded them, and took their breath away. Everybody was tired of the Witsduks and wanted to get rid of them.

At last Tcutûk, an old medicine woman, said: “I can destroy Witsduk and her family, but I am afraid of Wus. He is a bad man; he likes to tease people, and he is always around. I can put Witsduk and her family in my bag and hide them under rocks where they can’t get out, but if I meet Wus he will take the bag away from me, and untie it. Then the Witsduks will kill us.”

The people were glad when Tcutûk said she could destroy the Witsduks; they promised to watch for Wus and kill him if he tried to get the bag away from her.

Tcutûk went to the mountain where the Witsduks lived. She opened her bag and waited for a long time. The Witsduks were going back and forth in every direction; Tcutûks was so cold that she was almost frozen. At last they came near her hiding-place, but they didn’t see her. When they were right there, Tcutûk said magic words and the Witsduks began to go into the bag. They couldn’t help going; Tcutûk pushed them down, crowded them, packed them solid. When they were all in and her bag was full, she tied it with a buckskin string, took it on her back, and went toward the rocks; she traveled fast.

When Tcutûk got to the foot of the mountain, she said to the people waiting for her: “I have every Witsduk in the world in this bag on my back; now you must come with me to the rocks where I am going to hide them. I am afraid of Wus; I am afraid that I will meet him. If he should open my bag and let the Witsduks out, I should feel badly, for then no one would be safe. The Witsduks are mad; they would come out and kill everybody. Then they would live forever; they would scatter and be everywhere.”

The people said: “If we meet Wus, we will kill him,” but they were afraid. They went a little way, then turned back. Tcutûk traveled on alone till she came to a log; when she was climbing over the log, she saw Wus; he was hunting for mice. Tcutûk stood still, for she didn’t know what to do. As soon as Wus saw her, he came up, and right away he began to tease her to tell him what was in her bag, to open it and let him see.

At last Tcutûk said: “I am carrying off people you have met, and they have made you shiver. I am going to destroy them.”

“Let me have them,” said Wus, “I will eat them. I can eat anything in the world, all the people that crawl, or fly. I can eat Wind and Air. You haven’t anything in that bag that I can’t eat. I can eat Clouds and Rain,—everything.”

“Are you sure that you can eat all kinds of people?” asked Tcutûk.

“There isn’t anything in the world that I can’t eat.”

“I am carrying the Witsduks; you don’t want to eat them, do you?”

“Yes. Open the bag and let them out; I will eat them right away.”

Wus talked and teased. Tcutûk tried to make him let her pass. He got mad and caught hold of her head-strap and pulled on it till it cut her forehead. When she couldn’t keep the bag any longer, she said: “Take the bag and untie it! But don’t untie it till I am across the flat over there.”

She dropped the bag from her back and ran as fast as she could, but before she was half-way across the flat Wus loosened the string. Right away the Witsduks began to come out. Wus caught them, one by one, and ate them. Before Tcutûk reached the end of the plain, he loosened the string a little more; then the Witsduks came out fast. Wus caught them all; he ran around, snapped his mouth in every direction, ate as fast as he could,—ate till he was so full he couldn’t eat any more. The string came off from the bag, and the rest of the Witsduks rushed out in a crowd. They were mad; they went everywhere, covered the whole world. Wus ran away, but they overtook him and killed him. The Witsduks he had eaten came out through his mouth and ears and nose and eyes.

All the people Tcutûk had tried to save, by catching the Witsduks in her bag, were killed. Tcutûk turned to a squirrel and hid among the rocks.