Part 2

Waādiĕñgwă‘´s‘hoñ‘ o´nĕ^n‘ ho’ wă‘´săwĕ^n’ ne‘´ hăgweñdä’´s. He was surprised now it that he became lonesome.

O´nĕ^n‘ dĭ´q we´so’ ho’nĕñ´iathĕñ‘ ne‘´ Hagĕ^n´tcĭ; ne’´ Now moreover much his bones are dry the He Ancient that (he is very lean) One

gai´ioñnĭ t‘hĕ^n’´ĕ^n‘ deo’nigoñ‘´īiō‘ he‘´ odiksă’dā´iĕ^n’āiĕñ’´ it causes not (it is) his mind happy because they child one would is have think

nĕ’´ noñ‘´ heniio’´dĕn‘ ne‘´ ne‘´ hosheie´o^n. that perhaps so it is in that the he is jealous. state

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

There were, it seems, so it is said, man-beings dwelling on the other side of the sky. So just in the center of their village the lodge of the chief stood, wherein lived his family, consisting of his wife and one child, that they two had. He was surprised that then he began to become lonesome. Now furthermore, he the Ancient was very lean, his bones having become dried, and the cause of this condition was that they two had the child, and one would think, judging from the circumstances that he was jealous.

Such is the beginning of the Seneca version of Iroquoian cosmology as given by J. N. B. Hewitt in the 21st Report of the Bureau of Ethnology. This faithful record of a native text and its translation is literally a most painstaking work involving the closest attention to the minor sounds in the language, in order that each word may be phonetically recorded. To wade through this literal translation from the beginning to the end of the myth would be too tedious for anyone but an enthusiastic student of native tongues. To the majority of readers it would be a forbidding task. Even to follow the involved language and grammatical forms of the close literal translation would tire the mind of anyone whose mother tongue was not that of the text.

A free translation, therefore becomes a prime necessity, but this must not disturb the original thought. Just how to make such a translation honestly becomes a problem beset with difficulty. Our plan is to smooth out the language, divest it of its awkward arrangement, and allow the thought to flow on. Let us attempt this in the following:

FREE TRANSLATION.

In ancient times a race of transcendent men dwelt on the other side of the sky. In the center of a village in that land stood the lodge of Ancient One, the chief, and there he lived with his wife and one child. To his astonishment, though he had these companions, he began to feel lonely and neglected. His form grew emaciated and his “bones became dry,” for he longed for the attentions his wife now gave to his child.

Just how the poet would handle this version we hesitate to conjecture but we may easily imagine that he would make the most of the land above the sky, the celestial lodge, the age of the Ancient One, his initial joy at the birth of his child, and his gradual discovery that his wife’s affection had been transferred from him to their offspring, of the agony of soul that wilted his heroic form and caused his very bones to wither and lose their marrow, and of the final madness of the Ancient One, who (to follow the myth in its fullness), had a tormenting dream which caused him to tear up the celestial tree and cast his wife into the cavernous hole that dropped down into chaos.

The plot of this myth-tale has elements that make it excellent material for the fiction writer who would recast it entirely and weave it into the thrilling story of celestial tragedy. We have seen such attempts and have been astonished at the audacity of the writer who thus presents his product as a “genuine Indian myth.” Yet, most popular versions of Indian legends are recast to such an extent that the Indian who supplied the bones would never recognize the creature the white man “teller-of-tales” has clothed with civilized flesh. As an example of such fabrication, witness the speech of Hiawatha to the assembled tribes as presented by J. V. H. Clark in his “Onondaga.” (Vol. I, p. 28 ff.) This famous speech has been passed down as Hiawatha’s own words and has been the inspiration of more than one poet, though Clark admitted in later years that he invented the entire address, basing it upon some obscure references in the original tradition. In many a work on “Indian fables for children” the so-called fable is merely an invention, and the only Indian thing about it is the dash of Indian flavor used to give the story plausibility. Indians who have never seen or read the text of such stories of course might easily be induced in various ways to sign statements vouching for them, thus contributing to the intensification of error.

It is well to analyze the folk-tale or myth for its theme and to check it against others, thereby determining whether or not it is actually authentic. If it appears unusual and unlike anything other informants have given, it may be placed in the class of doubtful fiction, and especially so if the “fable” has a “moral” attached to it.

OBTAINING CORRECT VERSIONS.

It might be supposed that myths and folk-tales which are orally transmitted would suffer great changes as they pass from one story teller to another, and that in time a given tale would become utterly corrupted, and indeed so changed that it would bear faint resemblance to the “original.” Yet, an examination of the myths and legends recorded by early observers, as the early missionaries, show that the modern versions have suffered no essential change. An excellent example is the Iroquoian creation myth, as recorded by the Jesuit fathers in the _Relations_.

Religious traditions, ceremonies and myths, being of a “sacred” character, must be related with a certain fidelity which forbids any real change in the content. To a lesser degree, perhaps, but not much less, the “gă´gāā” legends of the Iroquois are protected from violent alteration. The legend is a thing, to the Indian mind, and it has a certain personality. In certain instances the legend is a personal or group possession and its form and content are religiously guarded from change. With tales told for mere amusement, tales belonging to the class of mere fiction, greater liberties may be taken.

Notwithstanding all this, it is certain that there are several versions of each legend. Certain groups tell the myth or legend in different ways. There are short versions and long versions and there are Seneca versions and Mohawk versions. In order to ascertain the “correct version” we must examine several versions as related by different narrators, and then after making an outline of the episodes, the characters and the motives, determine what the central theme of all is. We can in this manner judge what is essential and what is non-essential.

There is a wide variation in the language used in the narration of some legends, just as there is in the relation of modern stories told over the banquet table. A better example of variation, is to consider the innumerable versions of common nursery stories, as Puss in Boots, Cinderella, or Aladdin’s Lamp. Yet the theme of the story and the episodes, to say nothing of the characters, remain unchanged. Just so with most Iroquois folk-lore, much depends upon the author-raconteur. Some will add explanatory matter, some will add picturesque descriptions, some will add an abundance of conversation, and some will expand on the emotions of the characters. There is a wide individual variation in these matters, and much depends upon the training and education of the narrator, as well as upon his temperament. Language may differ somewhat, but the theme must remain,—the real story must never suffer essential change.

STORY-TELLING CUSTOMS OF THE SENECA.

Among the Seneca, in common with other Iroquois tribes, each settlement had its official story tellers whose predecessors had carefully taught them the legends and traditions of the mysterious past.

According to ancient traditions, no fable, myth-tale, or story of ancient adventure might be told during the months of summer. Such practice was forbidden by “the little people” (djogĕ´o^n), the wood fairies. Should their law be violated some djogĕ´o^n flying about in the form of a beetle or bird might discover the offender and report him to their chief. Upon this an omen would warn the forgetful Indian. Failing to observe the sign some evil would befall the culprit. Bees might sting his lips or his tongue would swell and fill his mouth, snakes might crawl in his bed and choke him while he slept, and so on, until he was punished and forced to desist from forbidden talk.

Certain spirits were reputed to enforce this law for two purposes; first, that no animal should become offended by man’s boasting of his triumph over beasts, or at the same time learn too much of human cunning, and fly forever the haunts of mankind; and second, that no animal, who listening to tales of wonder, adventure or humor, should become so interested as to forget its place in nature, and pondering over the mysteries of man’s words, wander dazed and aimless through the forest. To listen to stories in the summer time made trees and plants as well as animals and men lazy, and therefore scanty crops, lean game and shiftless people resulted. To listen to stories made the birds forget to fly to the south when winter came, it made the animals neglect to store up winter coats of fur. All the world stops work when a good story is told and afterwards forgets its wonted duty in marveling. Thus the modern Iroquois, following the old-time custom, reserves his tales of adventures, myth and fable for winter when the year’s work is over and all nature slumbers.

The story teller (Hage´otă’) when he finds an audience about him or wishes to call one, announces his intention to recite a folk-tale, (gă´gāā, or in the plural, gägä‘´sho^n’´o‘) by exclaiming “I’´newa’eñgegĕ´odĕ^n, Hau’´nio‘´ djadao^n “diĭ^nus!” The auditors eagerly reply “He^n‘´” which is the assenting to the proposed relation of the folk-tale.

At intervals during the relation of a story the auditors must exclaim “hĕ^n‘´.” This is the sign that they were listening. If there was no frequent response of “he,” the story teller would stop and inquire what fault was found with him or his story.

It was not only considered a breach of courtesy for a listener to fall asleep, but also a positive omen of evil to the guilty party. If any one for any reason wished to sleep or to leave the room, he must request the narrator to “tie the story,” “e^nsĕgägha‘´a.” Failing to say this and afterwards desiring to hear the remainder of the tale, the narrator would refuse, for if he related it at all it must be from the beginning through, unless “tied.” Thus “ĕ^nsĕgäha‘´a” was the magic word by which a legend might be told as a serial (from ĕ^nsege´odĕ).

A story teller was known as “Hage´otă’” and his stock of tales called “ganondas‘hägo^n”. Each listener gave the story teller a small gift, as a bead, small round brooch, beads, tobacco, or other trinket. To tell stories was called “ĕ^nsege´odĕ^n”, and the gift was termed “dagwa´niatcis,” now an obsolete word.

PHONETIC KEY.

a as in father

ā preceding sound, prolonged

ă as in what

ä as in hat

â as in all

ai as in aisle

au as _ou_ in out

c as _sh_ in shall

ç as _th_ in wealth

d pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, as in enunciating English _th_ in with; the only sound of _d_ employed in writing native words

e as in they

ĕ as in met

f as in waif

g as in gig

h as in hot

i as in pique

ĭ as in pit

k as in kick

n as in run

ñ as _ng_ in ring

o as in note

q as _ch_ in German ich

r slightly trilled; this is its only sound

s as in sop

t pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, as in enunciating the English _th_ in with; this is its only sound

u as in rule

ŭ as in rut

w as in wit

y as in ye

dj as _j_ in judge

hw as _wh_ in what

tc as _ch_ in church

^n marks nasalized vowels, thus e^n, o^n, ai^n, ĕ^n, ä^n, â^n

‘ indicates an aspiration or soft emission of breath

’ marks the glottal stop, ä’, ĕ^n’

t‘h In this combination _t_ and _h_ are separately uttered, as _th_ in the English words hothouse, foothold

I FUNDAMENTAL FACTORS IN SENECA FOLK-LORE

SENECA MYTHS AND FOLK-TALES

_BASIC PREMISES OF SENECA FOLK-LORE._

The myths and legends of the Seneca are built upon certain well recognized and deeply rooted postulates. Each bit of folk-lore must have its consistency adjudged by these elements in order to be credible. Any myth or legend that offended the standards so set would immediately be rejected by the Seneca as spurious. To a large extent the premises of folk-lore are founded on folk-thought, and woe to the innovator who sought to direct his theme from the accepted thought patterns.

Among the basic beliefs upon which the folk-tale is built are the following:

_Unseen spirits._ Spirits pervade all nature and affect man for good or evil. Their desires and plans must be satisfied by man. There are both good and evil spirits. Spirits may inhabit anything in nature.

_Conflict of good and evil spirits._ Good spirits are constantly making war upon evil spirits.

_Magical power._ There is such a thing as orenda or magical power. Such power makes its possessor the master over the natural order of things. This orenda may be acquired in various ways. It may be residual, and therefore an attribute of the individual, or it may be inherent in some charm or fetish. Virtuous persons may be given a good orenda, which is always more powerful in the end than the evil orenda which is possessed by witches and sorcerers.

_Transformation._ Any being possessing orenda may transform himself into any form,—animate or inanimate, as his orenda gives power. Anything seen in nature may be a temporary or a permanent transformation of a being having orenda. Transformation may be by command or by entering the skin of the creature whose form one desires to assume. Animals having orenda may assume human form and mingle with human beings. A group of people, therefore, may in reality be a transformed group of animals, and likewise with individuals.

_All nature is conscious._ Everything in the Seneca philosophy lives and is conscious. It is a being and in communication with other parts of nature. Anything in nature may be spoken to and it will hear what one has said. It may be induced to act in one’s behalf.

_All living creatures have souls._ The Seneca believes that animals have souls that are alike in their nature to the souls of human beings. The hunter, therefore, propitiates the soul of the animal he kills, and explains why he killed it. The souls of friendly animals help man, if man has been courteous, and has properly propitiated them. Souls of evil animals injure men and must be “bought off.” The souls of all creatures return to the Maker of Souls just as man’s does.

_Master of souls._ There is in the heaven world a Master of life and soul. He allows his subordinate spirits to rule the earth-world and concerns himself generally with his own realm. Souls that return to him are taken apart and readjusted that they may function properly in the immortal realm. Evil is therefore conceived in a measure as a maladjustment of the soul’s parts.

_Ghosts._ The manes of departed men and animals wander over their familiar haunts and startle men by their “materializations.” Wandering ghosts generally want something and must have their desires satisfied. The evil of the living person is intensified in the ghost. A ghost is the body spirit and not the real psychic personality.

_Dreams._ Dreams are experiences of the soul as it leaves the body during sleep. The dream god guides the soul to its dream experience. Dreams that prompt the individual to certain desires must be interpreted by a chosen person or by volunteer guessers, and the desire must be satisfied, or calamity will befall the dreamer as well as the unsuccessful guesser. Prophetic dreams must guide action and dream demands must not be lightly set aside.

_Monsters._ There are monsters that men seldom see. These affect the welfare and the destiny of man. They are generally evil and seek to destroy and sometimes to eat human beings.

_Wizards._ There are such beings as wizards, witches and sorcerers. These beings possess an evil orenda and seek to destroy innocent people.

_GODS, MAJOR SPIRITS AND FOLK-BEASTS OF THE SENECA._

1. BEINGS OF THE PRIMAL ORDER.

The first of the God Being was Te‘hao^n‘hwĕñdjaiwă’´kho^n’ or Earth Holder. It was he who ruled the sky world and lived in the great celestial lodge beneath the celestial tree. As the result of a dream this chief, who also bears the title, Ancient One, was moved to take to himself as a wife a certain maiden, known as Awĕ^nhā´i‘, Mature Flower (Fertile Earth). Mature Flower consented to the betrothal, but due to the embrace of her lover inhaled his breath, and was given a child. The attention she gave this child caused the Ancient One to be moved to jealousy, this emotion being aroused in him through the machinations of the Fire Beast, whose invisibility rendered his work the more subtle. Little is known through mythology of Ancient One, since his field is a celestial one, and he seldom interferes with the doings of men of our present order. Of his unhappy wife, who was cast through the hole made by the uprooting of the celestial tree we learn more.[2]

The wife of the Ancient One was Iage^n’´tci‘, also meaning Ancient One (Body). We recognize her in the Huron myths as recorded or mentioned in the Jesuit _Relations_ as Ataentsic (Ataaentsik). In Onondaga this would be Eiă’tăgĕ^n‘´tci‘. Her story is given in all versions of the creation myth.

Her personal name seldom appears, but Hewitt gives it as Awĕ^n‘hā´i‘, this referring to her maturity, or ability to bring forth seed. In some versions the Chief casts his wife into the abyss made by uprooting the celestial tree, Gai^niă’´tgä’´hei‘; in others her own curiosity is responsible. The tree in such versions is uprooted as a dream demand and her enraged husband pushes her into the hole made thereby through the crust of the heaven world. After the completion of the earth-world the sky mother returned by way of an etherial path that plainly was visible to her, this having been made by her daughter, the first born and the first to die of earth creatures.

Fire Beast (Gaăs‘ioñdie´t‘hă’), appears to have been one of the important primal beings, and to have exercised a malign influence even upon the inhabitants of the celestial world. He is described as of “sky color” or invisible, and he is only detected at all when he emits streams and flashes of light from his head. When a meteor flashes the Iroquois recognizes the Fire Beast. His appearance is counted as a sign of direful calamity and death.

Whirlwind (S‘hagodiiwe^n‘´gōwā or Hadu’´i’), was also a primal power of great importance. He is the controller of the violent winds, and he takes his name, He-who-defends-us, from his promise to help mankind when threatened by calamity. His symbol is the crooked-mouthed false face. There is also the concept of the four defenders, one for each of the cardinal directions. It was Whirlwind who boasted his power to the Good Mind (Iouskeha) and who had the contest with him of mountain moving. The face became mutilated by the mountain coming too quickly against it, at the command of the Good Mind. Agreeing that he was now a subordinate he agreed furthermore, to drive away disease and pestilence and to defend men-beings, who should be thereafter created, from malign influences. His face carved in wood, after certain propitiatory and invocatory ceremonies, was and still is used by the conservative Iroquois in their ceremonial events, particularly at the mid-winter thanksgiving, when parties of masked figures go from house to house, singing the magical songs deemed potent for this purpose. The common name is Hadu’´i’, but in all ceremonies the full Seneca appellation is given, (Shagodiiwĕ^n´‘gōwā).

The Thunderer, Hĭ’´no^n’, was another of the great beings, but he appears in the second order of mythology, as a servant to Iouskeha. He occupies a high place in the category of Iroquois gods, so high a place that it is an open question whether or not the Great Being whom the Iroquois now address as Hawĕñi´o’ is not identical with the Thunderer, though there is also a recognition of the Thunderer as a separate being. The name Hawĕñi´o’, apparently is derived from owĕñ´nă’, (voice) and i´o’ (good, great, majestic or beautiful). The initial _Ha_ is the masculine sign. The name thus means, He-great-voice. This alludes to the thunder. The Thunderer is a mighty being, the maker of rains. He wrinkles his brow and the thunder rolls, he winks his eyes and lightnings flash like arrows of fire. The Thunderer hates all evil spirits, and he is charged with terrorizing the _otgont_ or malicious dwellers of the under-world to return to their cave. He seeks to slay the under water serpent and all folk-beasts that would use evil magic.

The benificient earth-god was T‘haho^n’hiawă’´ko^n, the light or elder twin of the Sky Woman’s daughter. He is variously called Iouskeha (Huron), Hă’ni‘go‘´io’, Good Mind, Elder Brother, and Sky Holder. It was he who watched at the grave of his mother, and discovered the food plants. It was he who set forth on the journey “to the East” and obtained from his father the power to rule. He made the earth habitable for man, obtained the mastery over the Thunderer and the Whirlwind, and even made his grandmother, Eiă’tăgĕ^n‘´tci‘ (Awĕ^n‘hā´i‘) play the game of plum stones, the result of which should determine who should rule the earth. He animated his plum stone dice and gave them understanding, ordered them to arrange themselves as he directed, and thereby won the highest count in a single throw. This gave him mastery over his evil brother Tawis´karo^n (the icy or flinty one), for the grandmother sympathised with this ugly twin brother of his. In the heaven world, T‘haho^n’hiawă’´ko^n, now lives with his grandmother, in the reunited family of celestial beings, and though he grows very old he has the power of renewing himself at will, and exercises this power over good souls that come into the heaven world. He created man after observing his own reflection in a pool of water, after which he made miniature figures in clay and commanded them to live.