Part 16
When I had written out this tale substantially as here presented I read it to Edward Cornplanter. He criticized it by saying that I had received it from Christian Indians who had given locations not in the original tale and that my informants had tried to explain too much. “It is all right, though,” he said. “I do not object at all because white folks will understand it better the way you have it. Only one big mistake you have made. Now, when Two Feathers went away from that big bark house where the girl lived he made up his mind to take the girl with him to his own village. So, he grabbed her and jumped up through the smoke hole. He had his snowshoes hidden on the roof. He put on his snowshoes, grabbed the girl around the waist and then slid down the slippery roof. He was magic and sailed away right in the air for a mile and then came down on the snow as nice as you please. It was great to see it.
“Now, soon, Woodchuck Leggings missed the girl. All the time he still wants her, which makes his own woman mad. So Woodchuck Leggings tried to jump up through the roof hole but fell back in the fire and burned himself. So he climbed up on the roof with his snowshoes to sail away after Two Feathers. He started down the slippery, icy roof and went fine,—until he came to the edge of the roof. Then he fell head first in a big drift and the only thing anyone could see was a pair of snowshoes on the level with the top of the drift. This made the whole village laugh with a big roar. His wife was madder than ever for she had to dig him out, and I hate to tell you what she did to him when she got him alone. This is the best of the story.”
23. HOW TURKEY BOY SQUEEZED THE HEARTS OF A SORCERER AND HIS SEVEN SISTERS.
There was an old woman who lived with her grandson, Osoon (Turkey), in a lonely lodge a long ways from a settlement. The lodge was old and very large, but only the two lived in it, for all others had been killed by sorcerers.
Winter was coming on and the old woman was busily engaged each day in gathering firewood for the winter’s store. Every day she would cry as she started on her journey and when she returned she would cry again, for she was old and weak.
After a time the boy, Turkey, asked his grandmother why she wept continually. “Oh my grandson,” she answered, “all our people are dead and I am getting old. I have a hard time getting roots and bark for winter food and gathering wood makes me very tired.”
Then she took Turkey to the end of the long house and pushed aside a piece of bark. Beyond was another room which Turkey had never seen before. As they entered it Turkey saw that it was filled with all kinds of clothing and weapons and many strange things. “This is where I have placed all the things that belonged to our family when it lived here,” said the grandmother. “I will show you this place but you must never enter it or touch anything.”
The next day when the grandmother left the lodge to gather wood Turkey pushed aside the bark and entered the room. It was dark but after a time he could see. He found a large drum which pleased him very much. He fell to beating it and it made a sound that he thought delightful. Then he went out and closed the bark over the opening.
When the grandmother returned with her load of wood she wept again. “Why do you always weep?” asked Turkey. And she replied, “All of our people are dead. They have been destroyed by a monster wizard who eats human flesh. His lodge is to the east and near it is a great bed of strawberries. Oh, they are as large as hearts. Once there was a good village of our tribe there, but the people were killed and the houses have now fallen down.” Then she fell into a fit of weeping again.
Turkey now said, “My grandmother, now is the time for me to go. I shall shortly go.”
The next day when the grandmother was away, Turkey entered the forbidden room and found a net bat and a ball. He removed them and went out and played ball (lacrosse). Then he returned and found the drum, which he beat with great vigor. So loudly did he beat it that his grandmother heard it and returned in great fright. “Do you want the monster to find out where we live and come here and eat us?” she scolded, but Turkey only replied. “Oh my grandmother, don’t scold me. Tell me more about the monster.”
“His name is Deadoeñdjadase^n,” replied the grandmother, “and he has seven sisters who wait upon him. Oh never go east.”
“Make me some moccasins,” commanded the boy. “I am going east.”
Still forbidding him to go, the grandmother, nevertheless, made the moccasins. In a short time he was ready to start.
Now Turkey was cautious and crept along through the underbrush until he came to a clearing where he saw a dried human skin fastened by a cord to a tall pole. It swung around in the wind and watched the clearing. Turkey noticed that there was a large strawberry patch there with berries as big as hearts. He was very crafty and knew that he could not approach the Hadjoqda (dried skin), without being seen and reported to its masters. Looking about he saw a mole and made a bargain with it to borrow its coat. Shrinking himself by magic he entered the mole skin and then burrowed underground until he was directly under the skin, when he broke a little root into beads and stained them with berry juice. He called to the skin and offered to give it wampum if it would talk for a while. This the skin agreed to do, and told him all the mysteries of the clearing. Turkey learned that the master sorcerer was Deadoeñdjadse^n, and that the seven sisters cooked human flesh for him, grinding it in a corn mortar with white corn meal. Only this would he eat. When the sisters were not cooking they guarded the strawberries from the deer that came into the clearing to graze.
“What more should I learn to be safe?” asked Turkey.
“What will you give to know?” replied Skin Man.
“I will rub my hands on you and make you free,” answered Turkey.
Then he learned that the lives of the sorcerer and his sister were secure, for they could not be killed, their hearts being concealed under the wing of a loon that swam in a pool under a bed in the lodge. A dog guarded the hearts and they could only be surrendered upon order of Deadoeñdjadse^n, himself.
Meanwhile the sisters had been calling the skin, and louder and louder did they call. Turkey said, “Tell them that you have been making wampum for them, and that Deadoeñdjadse^n is about to return spitting blood. Then I will stir up the deer and enter the lodge. Then you will report the deer and the sisters will rush out to save their strawberries. I will find their hearts and kill them. Then I will make you free.”
Hadjoqda, the skin man, returned to the lodge, saying that he had been making wampum, and was delayed. He said moreover that he saw their brother returning, being sick. The youngest sister was suspicious of the wampum, but it appeared to be good, and the sisters divided it. Skin Man then returned to his station.
In a short time Turkey had gone back to the mole and returned its coat with a gift in payment. Then he used magic to make himself appear exactly like Deadoeñdjadse^n, and strode boldly into the clearing, chewing a strawberry and spitting the juice. This gave him great power. He drew near the lodge and called for food, but one sister was suspicious and offered him corn, then meat, then fish, but Turkey refused them all and roared that he was Oñgwe Iās and wanted his accustomed dinner. This they put before him and he ate it all, satisfying the women that he was indeed their brother.
Suddenly Skin Man began to call and the women all ran out of the lodge, for Skin Man was crying that the deer were in the strawberries.
When the sisters were out of sight, Turkey noticed a small dog watching one of the beds. He threw a piece of meat to the dog and then lifted up the bed. Beneath was a pool of water and a loon swimming about. “Give me the hearts,” commanded Turkey. The loon lifted up a wing but there were no hearts under it. “You give me those hearts!” commanded Turkey, once more. This time the loon lifted its right wing and beneath were the eight hearts. Turkey grabbed them and ran out crying, “I am Turkey, and I’ve got your hearts.”
When the sisters saw Turkey with the hearts they began to chase him with the clubs which they used on the deer, but as each assailant approached Turkey squeezed her heart, causing her to faint. One by one he squeezed until they all cried out and fainted but the rest arose as he released his pressure and ran after him, when by giving a hard squeeze they all fell down. By this time the women were at the flat rock where their brother killed his victims. Turkey now threw their hearts one by one on the stone and each cracked open like a flint stone.
Deadoeñdjadse^n, suspecting mischief, now ran to the clearing where he met the Skin Man. Of him he made inquiries as to what the noise was all about. Skin Man was very insolent and called Deadoeñdjadse^n bad names, enraging him greatly. “Turkey has your heart, Turkey has your heart,” sang the Skin Man in derision. The monster sorcerer then rushed into the clearing where he saw Turkey dancing about the flat stone. He rushed upon him, but Turkey threw the heart upon the rock and broke both heart and rock. Then he patted Skin Man all over the body and restored him to his normal form. To his surprise he found him to be his own brother, who had been held by sorcery to obey the commands of the wizard and his sisters.
Together they gathered many bones that were strewn about the flat rock. When all were piled up Turkey kicked over a pig-nut tree and called out, “Disjointed bones, arise before this tree falls upon you!” The tree fell and before it hit the ground a great host of people arose and all were quarreling, for all had portions of the others’ bodies. Turkey pacified them and told them to wait. From the throng he picked out his own relatives and with them returned to his grandmother’s lodge.
The grandmother was very happy when she saw her relatives,—her children and grandchildren. By her suggestion they all returned to the clearing where the strawberries grew and there they built a new village, and there they live to this day.
24. CORN RAINS INTO EMPTY BARRELS.
At one time there was nothing to eat on all the earth. Nearly all the people had starved to death, and a few that remained gathered together on a high hill. They lived on boiled bark.
There was a certain young man who kept saying all the time, “It will be better after a while.” Nobody believed him because things were getting worse each day. His brother used to torture him with sharp stones and say harsh things to him. The young man, however, kept thinking that something would happen soon. After a while he heard footsteps, as if on a clean path. He listened for the span of a moon and then heard them running. He told the people but nobody believed him.
One morning while he sat in the doorway of his lodge with his head down on his knees, a young woman stood before him. He heard her breathe and looked up. She smiled and handed him a basket of bread. “My mother sent me to this lodge to find a young man,” she said. “My mother wants me to marry him.”
The people came out of the lodge and looked at the young woman and the young man’s mother asked from whence she had come. “I have come from the far south,” answered the girl. “There is plenty of food there.”
So the young man ate the bread and was married to the young woman from the south.
Then the young wife said, “My mother sent me to bring food to you. Let everybody take off the tops of their corn barrels and then enter the lodge and cover their faces.”
The sun had now come up and it was hot. The people did not like their faces covered, but soon they heard a sound like corn falling into their barrels. After a time the noise ceased and the young wife said, “It is finished now.”
Out into the shed went the people of the lodge and found the barrels full of shelled corn. Everybody ate and all were satisfied, except the younger brother, who threw his food into the fire and said he wanted game. Now the young wife had cooked the corn the young man threw away, and she was made sad by his action. So she said, “My husband, go to the river and get fish enough for the people.” But the younger brother said, “It is foolish to go to the river, for fish have deserted the river. There are none.” Nevertheless, the young husband went to the river and drew out enough fish for all the people. The younger brother was very angry.
The next day the husband went hunting and while he was absent the younger brother began to torment the young wife. “Your food is not good,” he said. “I cast your food away,” and again he threw food into the fire.
When the husband returned he found his wife crying and when he asked her what was troubling her she said, “Your younger brother has spoiled everything. He has rejected my food (speaking thereby the dissatisfaction of all the people). I shall now return to my home.”
The husband was very sad and begged her not to go, but his wife told him that her mother instructed her to return if she were abused. During the following night there was a sound of scraping in the corn barrels and in the morning when the women went for their corn it was all gone, and with it the bride had vanished.
After consultation the husband determined to search for his wife, and thus he set out on a long journey. At length he came to a region of great corn fields and after a while saw a high mound covered with corn plants. On this mound he found his wife and her mother. His wife showed him her body and it was burned and scarred. “This is what your brother did to me,” she said, “when he threw the corn into the fire. He would have killed me had I remained.”
After living in the south for several months the couple returned and found the people again starving. The young wife ordered them to open their corn barrels and hide their faces once again. They did so and shelled corn fell like rain into the barrels filling them to the top.
Then the young wife told the people that corn must never be wasted or thrown away for it is food and if destroyed will cause the crops to be poor and the corn to cease to yield.
25. TWENTGOWA AND THE MISCHIEF MAKER.[34]
There was once a very lazy man named Twentgowa. He had a wife and several children. Twentgowa was always giving excuses to his wife as to why he did not hunt game more often like other men.
Twentgowa often went into the deep woods and had a mossy rock near a river where he would lie and dream of the things he would like to do and how he would kill big game animals if he only had a chance. More and more often he repaired to his favorite spot as his wife scolded him for not bringing home game.
One evening a man came to the lodge where Twentgowa lived. He stood in the doorway and said: “I am your friend. I have visited you before but this is the first time you have seen me. I have known your name for a long time. Now you must come often and see me. I have good things in my place of abode and there is plenty to eat and much game hanging on my rafters.” Then he walked away.
Twentgowa did not know where his friend lived but thought he might find him some day. Now on the next day there was nothing to eat in the house, save a few pieces of corn bread, and the wife scolded Twentgowa saying: “Oh you who are always squatting like a duck on a nest, you shall not eat but this food shall be for our children. Begone, and if you have a friend perhaps he will receive you.” So that is what she said.
The lazy man arose from his bed and went out of the house. “I will now go and seek my friend,” he thought to himself. He went directly to the mossy spot on the rock where he customarily sought refuge and when he arrived there he found his bed very thick with moss, making it a fine spot upon which to recline. When he had lain there a short time he looked up and saw a large bark house, with very fine poles as supports and over the door a head of some animal he could not identify.
He arose and with caution walked toward the door of the house and when he stood before it he saw his friend.
“My friend,” said he, “I did not know this house was here. I never saw it before.”
“Come in,” said his friend, “This is where I live. Oh this house has here stood for many years and I am greatly surprised that you have not seen it. Now it is time to eat. Be seated here on a mat and let us eat together. The first thing we must eat is os‘howä, a pudding.”
Thereupon the friend went to an upper shelf and took down a bowl into which he placed a loathly mess of substance that had the odor of a fish a long time dead. “Djiskwengo,” exclaimed the friend, and the bowl filled up with steaming pudding of most enticing odor.
So the two friends ate the food and relished it greatly. Oh, it was far better than any food that Twentgowa had ever eaten. “It is so delicious,” said he, “that I would like to take some home to my family. I would like to borrow a cooking pot to contain it.”
“My friend, there is no need of that,” said the householder. “I will give you power to do as I have done. You have only to follow my directions and you will have great power to produce delicious food for your family.”
So Twentgowa stood at the back of the lodge and his friend threw the pot of food into him right through the wall of his abdomen. It vanished through magic and power was within Twentgowa.
Twentgowa now said he was about to return to his home and he started out on his journey which seemed very much longer than ever before, as if the path had stretched. He kept thinking of his newly acquired power and thought it might be well to test it. So he sat down on a log and used his magical word, “Odjiskwagoh.” As he did this a great pile of steaming pumpkin pudding formed on the ground. “Oh my!” exclaimed Twentgowa. “Power within me is; now I shall eat forever.” He was now satisfied that he had a great friend.
Running home he entered his lodge and told his story. He told of his feasting on pumpkin pudding and of the power he had to make it by magic. So he took a jar from the top platform of his lodge and in the manner directed filled it. He placed in it the loathly substance like unto a dead fish and then conjured it until it overflowed into the large bark dish in which the jar was placed. “Ah now,” said Twentgowa, “we shall have a feast. Oh, it is so appetizing!”
His wife was very angry and would not touch the food but scolded him, for instead of real food all that was produced was a terrible mess that drove her and the children out of the house. She threw stones into the lodge and called him out, for he was dancing inside.
So the people saw that Twentgowa had lied and could not make food by unnatural means, but made that which was evil. And his wife scolded him and said: “Do not go to the lodge of that man any longer. He is none other than S‘hodie´o^nsko^n’, whom we know as a mischief maker. He will make your mind abnormal and what is bad he will make you think is good. If you persist in visiting him you will suffer and great calamity will befall us all.”
Twentgowa was greatly downcast and wondered why he had failed before the people. He determined to go and see his friend again and seek an explanation. So he went as before. “My friend, I was just thinking of you,” said his friend when he entered the lodge. “Come we will now eat together. This time we will have the whole pumpkin. Oh it is most delicious.”
So when he had said this he sat down on a long bench and laid his war club against his thighs and it became as if alive. It lay upon the bench and it had a round head which was very large. Then the friend said: “Pumpkin come forth. Thou art concealed within the head of my warclub. Burst forth!”
So saying he struck the head of his war club with a long handled maul. Immediately a pumpkin rolled forth from the head of his war club. So they cooked it and ate it. Twentgowa found it most delicious and was continually saying, “Oga’´o^n’! Oga’´o^n! This is so delicious,” said he, “that I would be most happy to have the power to do the same as you have done, for in this manner I could feed my family.”
“I will give you power to so produce twice,” said the friend, “but further you must not try for it is not good to always eat pumpkins alone. Now I am ready. Stand, swing your war club until it comes ‘whack’ against the head of my club. If you can hit mine there will be power within you.”
So Twentgowa swung his war club about, spinning on his heel until he came, “sqŭŭh” against his friend’s club and it made a great whack that nearly broke Twentgowa in twain.
“Now,” said Twentgowa, “I will try my power,” so he hit his club with a maul and a pumpkin rolled forth. “Now I must go home and make pumpkins,” he said. “Now I go.”
On his way through the forest he began to wonder if indeed he had power. He thought that by some chance power was within him only so long as he was in the presence of his friend and that his friend had fooled him by magic to make mischief after the fashion of S‘hodie^nsko^n’. Thereupon he sat astride a log and laid his war club before him, its round head being at the further end of the log. Then he grasped a stick and reached over and struck the head of the war club. It was as his friend had said, for a pumpkin rolled forth. He did not want to carry the pumpkin home so he made a fire and cooked it. Oh it was a delicious pumpkin and he kept continually saying “Oga’´o^n’.” Then he went home.
He went in his lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend this time has given me good power. I will make pumpkins for you. Get my stake maul with which I am accustomed to drive in the long stakes of the house. Now I seat myself upon this bench and lay my war club before me. This is the right way to proceed. Now I whack my war club with the maul.” So saying he hit at the head of his club, but in so doing he lifted up his foot upon the bench and whacked his big toe. It was a terrible and resounding whack, but no pumpkin rolled forth. Instead, Twentgowa fell off the bench like a dead man. He gave one dismal long-drawn-out howl and fainted.
It was a long time before he recovered and when he did he was very sore and limped when he walked. He could not hunt and when his wife scolded him for a lazy man, he sneaked away again and went to the lodge of his friend.
Arriving at the lodge he limped in. “Oh my friend,” said the house holder, “I have been awaiting you; come, let us go after fish.” So saying he went out and strode down to the creek where he removed his leggings. He took out his knife and passed it through his lips, moistening it. Then he began to whittle the meat off his shins so that the bone stood out sharp like a long knife. “Now, my friend,” said he, “I will wade swiftly through the water and strike the fishes before they can move to one side. They will die and float to the top of the water and I will pick them up. After a while we will have enough for a good repast.” He then waded in the water very swiftly and soon many fishes were upon the water which he picked up and flung over his shoulder into a basket. Coming ashore he put down his basket and then began to moisten his shins with salivary fluid. They quickly were restored and did not bleed at any time. Thus they made a fire and feasted on fish. Oh it was very delicious and Twentgowa kept saying, “Oga’´o^n’.”
“Now, furthermore,” he said, “I would like to have this power of catching fish for if I possessed it I might obtain food for my family.”
“You shall possess this power,” said his friend, “and when I touch your shins with my tongue you shall have power to twice perform this act of obtaining fish.” And it was done.