Part 18

480. The next thing they had to think about was how they should carry the heavy log to the river with the man inside of it. They put under the log (first) a rope of crooked lightning, (second) a rope of rainbow, (third) a rope of straight lightning, and (fourth) another rope of rainbow. They attached a sunbeam to each end of the log. All the gods except those who were engaged in preparing the turkey tried to move the log, but they could not stir it; and they sent for the six who were at work on the turkey to come to their aid. Two of the Gánaskidi were now stationed at each end, and two of the Hastséhogan in the middle. The others were stationed at other parts. The Gánaskidi put their wands under the log crosswise, thus, X. All lifted together, and the log was carried along. Some of them said: "If strength fail us and we let the log fall, we shall not attempt to raise it again, and the Navaho will not make his journey." As they went along some became tired and were about to let the log go, but the winds came to help them--Black Wind and Blue Wind in front, Yellow Wind and White Wind behind, and soon the log was borne to the margin of the river. As they went along, Tó`nenili,[98] the Water Sprinkler, made fun and played tricks, as he now does in the dances, to show that he was pleased with what they were doing. While the gods were at work the Navaho sang five songs, each for a different part of the work; the significant words of the songs were these:--

First Song, "A beautiful tree they fell for me." Second Song, "A beautiful tree they prepare for me." Third Song, "A beautiful tree they finish for me." Fourth Song, "A beautiful tree they carry with me." Fifth Song, "A beautiful tree they launch with me."[283]

481. When they threw the log on the surface of the water it floated around in different directions, but would not go down stream, so the gods consulted together to determine what they should do. They covered the log first with black mist and then with black cloud. Some of the gods standing on the banks punched the log with their plumed wands, when it approached the shore or began to whirl round, and they kept this up till it got into a straight course, with its head pointed down stream, and floated on. When the gods were punching the log to get it into the current, the Navaho sang a song, the principal words of which were:--

1. "A beautiful tree, they push with me."

When the log was about to go down the stream, he sang:--

2. "A beautiful tree is about to float along with me,"

and when the log got into the current and went down, he sang:--

3. "A beautiful tree floats along with me."[284]

482. All went well till they approached a pueblo called Ki'ndotliz, or Blue House,[208] when two of the Kisáni, who were going to hunt eaglets, saw the log floating by, though they could not see the gods that guided its course. Wood was scarce around Blue House. When the men saw the log they said, "There floats a big tree. It would furnish us fuel for many days if we could get it. We must try to bring it to the shore." The two men ran back to the pueblo and announced that a great log was coming down the river. A number of people turned out to seize it. Most of them ran down the stream to a shallow place where they could all wade in, to await the arrival of the log, while a few went up along the bank to herald its approach. When it came to the shallow place they tried to break off branches, but failed. They tied ropes to the branches, and tried to pull it ashore; but the log, hurried on by the current, carried the crowd with it. But the next time the log got to a shallow place the Kisáni got it stranded, and sent back to the pueblo for axes, intending to cut off branches and make the log light. When the gods saw the people coming with axes they said: "Something must be done." They sent down a great shower of rain, but the Kisáni held on to the log. They sent hail, with hailstones as big as two fists; but still the Kisáni held on. They sent lightning to the right--the people to the left held on. They sent lightning to the left--the people to the right held on. They sent lightning in all directions four times, when, at last, the Kisáni let go and the log floated on. Now the gods laid upon the log a cloud so thick that no one could see through it; they put a rainbow lengthwise and a rainbow crosswise over it, and they caused the zigzag lightning to flash all around it. When the Kisáni saw all these things they began to fear. "The gods must guard this log," they said. "Yes," said the chief. "Go to your homes, and let the log pass on. It must be holy."

483. The log floated steadily with the stream till it came to a place where a ridge of rocks, standing nearly straight up, disturbs the current, and here the log became entangled in the rocks. But two of the Fringe-mouths[209] of the river raised it from the rocks and set it floating again. They turned the log around, one standing at each end, until they got it lying lengthwise with the current, and then they let it float away.

484. Thence it floated safely to Tó`hodotliz, where the gods on the bank observed it stopping and slowly sinking, until only a few leaves on the ends of the branches could be seen. It was the sacred people under the water who had pulled the log down this time. These were Tiéholtsodi, Tielín,[210] Frog, Fish, Beaver, Otter, and others. They took the Navaho out of the log and bore him down to their home under the water. The gods on the bank held a council to consider why the tree stuck. They shook it and tried to get it loose, but they could not move it. Then they called on Tó`nenili, Water Sprinkler, to help them. He had two magic water jars, To`sadilyi'l, the black jar, which he carried in his right hand, and To`sadotli'z, the blue jar, which he carried in his left hand; with these he struck the water to the right and to the left, crying as he did so his call of "Tu`wu`wu`wú!" The water opened before him and allowed him to descend. He went around the tree, and when he came to the butt he found that the plug had been withdrawn and that the Navaho was no longer there. He called up to his friends on the bank and told them what he had found. They spread a short rainbow[211] for him to travel on, and he went to the house of the divine ones under the water. This house consisted of four chambers, one under another, like the stories of a pueblo dwelling. The first chamber, that on top, was black; the second was blue; the third yellow; the fourth white.[18] Two of the Tielín, or water pets with blue horns, stood at the door facing one another, and roared as Tó`nenili passed. He descended from one story to another, but found no one till he came to the last chamber, and here he saw Tiéholtsodi, the water monster; Tsal, Frog (a big rough frog); Tsa, Beaver, Tábastin, Otter, Tlo`ayuinli'tigi (a great fish), and the captive Navaho. "I seek my grandchild. Give him to me," said Tó`nenili. "Shut your mouth and begone," said Tiéholtsodi. "Such as you cannot come here giving orders. I fear you not, Water Sprinkler; you shall not have your grandchild." Then Tó`nenili went out again and told his friends what had happened to him, and what had been said in the house of Tiéholtsodi under the water.

485. The gods held another council. "Who shall go down and rescue our grandchild?" was the question they asked one another. While they were talking Hastsézini[212] (Black God), who owns all fire, sat apart and took no part in the council. He had built a fire, while the others waited, and sat with his back to it, as was his custom. "Go tell your grandfather there what has occurred," said the others to Tó`nenili. The latter went over to where Hastsézini sat. "Why are they gathered together yonder and of what do they talk so angrily?" said the Black God. In answer, Tó`nenili told of his adventures under the water and what Tiéholtsodi had said to him. Hastsézini was angry when he heard all this. "I fear not the sacred people beneath the water," he said. "I shall have my grandchild." He hastened to the river, taking Tó`nenili with him, for Tó`nenili had the power to open the water, and these two descended into the river. When they reached the room where Tiéholtsodi sat, the Black God said, "We come together for our grandchild." "Run out there, both of you. Such as you may not enter here," said Tiéholtsodi. "I go not without my grandson. Give him to me, and I shall go," said the other. "Run out," repeated Tiéholtsodi, "I shall not release your grandchild." "I shall take my grandchild. I fear you not." "I shall not restore him to you. I heed not your words." "I never recall what I have once spoken. I have come for my grandchild, and I shall not leave without him." "I said you should not go with him, and I mean what I say. I am mighty." Thus they spoke defiantly to one another for some time. At length Hastsézini said: "I shall beg no longer for my grandchild. You say you are mighty. We shall see which is the more powerful, you or I," and Tiéholtsodi answered: "Neither shall I ask your permission to keep him. I should like to see how you will take him from me." When Hastsézini heard this he took from his belt his fire-stick and fire-drill.[213] He laid the stick on the ground, steadied it with both feet, and whirled the drill around, pausing four times. The first time he whirled the drill there was a little smoke; the second time there was a great smoke; the third time there was flame; the fourth time the surrounding waters all took fire. Then Tiéholtsodi cried: "Take your grandchild, but put out the flames." "Ah," said Hastsézini, "you told me you were mighty. Why do you implore me now? Why do you not put out the fire yourself? Do you mean what you say this time? Do you really want the fire quenched?" "Oh! yes," cried Tiéholtsodi. "Take your grandchild, but put out the flames. I mean what I say." At a sign from Black God, Water Sprinkler took the stoppers out of his jars and scattered water all around him four times, crying his usual "Tu`wu`wu`wú" as he did so, and the flames died out. The water in Tó`nenili's jars consisted of all kinds of water--he-rain, she-rain, hail, snow, lake-water, spring-water, and water taken from the four quarters of the world. This is why it was so potent.[67]

486. When the fire was extinguished the three marched out in single file--Tó`nenili in front, to divide the water, the Navaho in the middle, and Hastsézini in the rear. Before they had quite reached the dry land they heard a flopping sound behind them, and, looking around, they saw Tsal, the Frog. "Wait," said he. "I have something to tell you. We can give disease to those who enter our dwelling, and there are cigarettes, sacred to us, by means of which our spell may be taken away. The cigarette of Tiéholtsodi should be painted black; that of Tielín, blue; those of the Beaver and the Otter, yellow; that of the great fish, and that sacred to me, white." Therefore, in these days, when a Navaho is nearly drowned in the water, and has spewed the water all out, such cigarettes[12] are made to take the water sickness out of him.

487. The gods took Nati'nesthani back to his log. Tó`nenili opened a passage for them through the river, and took the water out of the hollow in the log. The Navaho crawled into the hollow. The gods plugged the butt again, and set the log floating. It floated on and on until it came to a fall in the San Juan River, and here it stuck again. The gods had hard labor trying to get it loose. They tugged and worked, but could not move it. At length the Dsahadoldzá, the Fringe-mouths of the water, came to help. They put the zigzag lightning which was on their bodies[209] under the butt of the log,--as if the lightning were a rope,--and soon they got the log loose and sent it floating down the river.

488. At the end of the San Juan River, surrounded by mountains, there is a whirling lake or large whirlpool called Tó`nihilin, or End of the Water. When the log entered here it whirled around the lake four times. The first time it went around it floated near the shore, but it gradually approached the centre as it went round again and again. From the centre it pointed itself toward the east and got near the shore; but it retreated again to the centre, pointed itself to the south, and at last stranded on the south shore of the lake. When it came to land four gods stood around it thus: Hastséhogan on the east, Hastséyalti on the south, one Gánaskidi on the west, and one on the north. They pried out one of the stoppers with their wands, and the Navaho came out on the land. They took out what remained of the food they had given him, a bow of cedar with the leaves on, and two reed arrows that they had placed in the log before they launched it. This done, they plugged the log again with a black cloud.

489. Then the gods spoke to the Navaho and said: "We have taken you where you wished to go. We have brought you to the end of the river. We have done for you all that in the beginning you asked us to do, and now we shall give you a new name. Henceforth you shall be called Áhodiseli, He Who Floats. Go sit yonder" (pointing out a place), "and turn your back to us." He went and sat as he was told, and soon they called to him and bade him go to a hill west of the lake. When he ascended it he looked around and saw the log moving back in the direction whence, he thought, he had come. He looked all around, but could see no one. The gods had disappeared, and he was all alone. He sat down to think. He felt sad and lonely. He was sorry he had come; yet, he thought, "This is my own deed; I insisted on coming here, and had I stayed at home I might have been killed." Still the more he thought the sadder he felt, and he began to weep.

490. The mountains all around the lake were very precipitous, except on the west side. Here they were more sloping, and he began to think of crossing, when he heard faintly in the distance the gobbling of a turkey. He paused and listened, and soon heard the gobbling again, more distinctly and apparently nearer. In a short time he heard the sound for the third time, but louder and clearer than before. The fourth time that the gobbling was heard it seemed very loud and distinct; and a moment later he beheld, running toward him, his pet turkey, whom he had thought he would never see again. The turkey, which had followed him all the way down the San Juan River, now approached its master from the east, as if it were coming to him at once; but when it got within arm's length of the man it retreated and went round him sunwise, approaching and retreating again at the south, the west, and the north. When it got to the east again it ran up to its master and allowed itself to be embraced. (Fig. 34 shows the way it approached its master.) "Ahaláni, silín (Welcome, my pet)," said Nati'nesthani, "I am sorry for you that you have followed me, I pity you; but now that you are here, I thank you for coming."

491. The man now began to think again of crossing the mountain in the west, but suddenly night came on. He had not noticed the light fading until it was too dark to begin the journey, and he felt obliged to seek a resting-place for the night. They went to a gulch near at hand where there were a few small cedar-trees. They spread out, for a bed, the dead leaves and the soft débris which they found under the trees and lay down, side by side, to sleep. The Navaho spread his bark blanket over himself, and the turkey spread one of its wings over its master, and he slept well that night.

492. Next morning they rose early and went out to hunt wood-rats. They went down a small winding valley till they came to a beautiful flat, through which ran a stream of water. "This would be a good place for a farm if I had but the seeds to plant," said the Navaho aloud. When he had spoken he observed that his turkey began to act in a very peculiar manner. It ran to the western border of the flat, circled round to the north, and then ran directly from north to south, where it rejoined its master, who had in the mean time walked around the edge of the flat from east to west. This (fig. 35) shows how they went. When they met they walked together four times around the flat, gradually approaching the centre as they walked. Here, in the centre, the man sat down and the turkey gambolled around him. "My pet," said the Navaho, "what a beautiful farm I could make here if I only had the seeds." The turkey gobbled in reply and spread out its wings.

493. Nati'nesthani had supposed that when the gods were preparing the log for him they had done something to the turkey, but what they had done he knew not. Now that his pet was acting so strangely, it occurred to him that perhaps it could aid him. "My pet," he said, "can you do anything to help me make a farm here?" The turkey ran a little way to the east and shook its wings, from which four grains of white corn dropped out; then it ran to the south and shook from its wings four grains of blue corn; at the west it shook out four grains of yellow corn, and at the north four grains of variegated corn. Then it ran up to its master from the east and shook its wings four times, each time shaking out four seeds. The first time it dropped pumpkin seeds; the second time, watermelon seeds; the third time, muskmelon seeds; the fourth time, beans. "E`yéhe, silín (Thanks, my pet). I thought you had something for me," said Nati'nesthani.

494. He went away from the flat, roasted wood-rats for a meal, and when he had eaten he made two planting sticks, one of greasewood and one of tsintli'zi[214] (Fendleria rupicola). He returned to the flat and began to make his farm. He dug four holes in the east with the stick of tsintli'zi, and dropped into each hole a grain of white corn. He dug four holes in the south with his greasewood stick, and placed in each hole one grain of blue corn. He dug four holes in the west with the tsintli'zi stick, and planted in each one grain of yellow corn. He made four holes in the north with the greasewood, and put in each one grain of variegated corn. With the implement of tsintli'zi he planted the pumpkin seed between the white corn and the blue corn. With the implement of greasewood he planted watermelon seed between the blue corn and the yellow corn. With the stick of tsintli'zi he planted muskmelon seeds between the yellow corn and the variegated corn. With the stick of greasewood he planted beans between the variegated corn and the white corn.[215] He looked all around to see if he had done everything properly, and he went to the west of his farm among the foothills and camped there.

495. He felt uneasy during the night, fearing that there might be some one else to claim the land, and he determined to examine the surrounding country to see if he had any neighbors. Next day he walked in a circle, sunwise, around the valley, and this he did for four consecutive days, taking a wider circle each day; but he met no people and saw no signs of human life, and he said: "It is a good place for a farm. No one claims the land before me." Each morning, before he went on his journey, he visited his farm. On the fourth morning he saw that the corn had grown half a finger-length above the ground.

496. On the fourth night, after his long day's walk around the valley, when darkness fell, he sat by his fire facing the east, and was surprised to see a faint gleam half way up the side of the mountains in the east. "Strange," he said, "I have travelled all over that ground and have seen neither man nor house nor track nor the remains of fire." Then he spoke to the turkey, saying: "Stay at home to-morrow, my pet; I must go and find out who builds that fire."

497. Next day, leaving his turkey at home, he went off to search the mountain-side, where he had seen the gleam; but he searched well and saw no signs of human life. When he came home he told all his adventures to his turkey and said: "It must have been a great glow-worm that I beheld." He got home pretty early in the day and went out to trap wood-rats, accompanied by his turkey. In the evening when he returned to his camp, he looked again, after dark, toward the eastern mountain, and saw the gleam as he had seen it the night before. He set a forked stick in the ground, got down on his hands and knees, and looked at the fire through the fork. (See par. 382.)

498. On the following morning he placed himself in the same position he was in the night before,--putting his hands and knees in the tracks then made,--and looked again over the forked stick. He found his sight directed to a spot which he had already explored well. Notwithstanding this he went there again, leaving his turkey behind, and searched wider and farther and with greater care than on previous occasions; but he still saw no traces of human life. When he returned to camp he told his turkey all that had happened to him. That night he saw the light again, and once more he sighted over the forked stick with care.

499. When morning came, he found that he had marked the same spot he had marked before; and though he had little hope he set out for the third time to find who made the distant fire. He returned after a time, only to tell his disappointment to his turkey. As usual he spent the rest of the day, accompanied by the turkey, setting traps for wood-rats and other small animals. After dark, when he saw the distant flame again, he set a second forked stick in the ground and laid between the two forks a long, straight stick, which he aimed at the fire as he would aim an arrow. When this was done he went to sleep.

500. Next morning he noted with great care the particular spot to which the straight stick pointed, and set out to find the fire. Before he left he said to his turkey: "I go once more to seek the distant fire; but it is the last time I shall seek it. If I find it not to-day, I shall never try again. Stay here till I return." While he spoke the turkey turned its back on him, and showed its master that it was angry. It acted like a pouting child. He went to the place on the eastern mountain to which the stick pointed, and here he found, what he had not observed before, a shelf in the rocks, which seemed to run back some distance. He climbed to the shelf and discovered there two nice huts. He thought that wealthy people must dwell in them. He felt ashamed of his ragged bark blanket, of his garment of wood-rat skins, of his worn grass sandals; of his poor bow and arrows; so he took these off, laid them in the fork of a juniper-tree, and, retaining only his breech-cloth of wood-rat skins, his belt, tobacco pouch, and pipe, he approached one of the houses.