Part 26

Again Hahyennoweh sat down and rested, for besides the giving of rest it made greater excitement. Taking up the race again the son ran over the path made by the monster. On and on he sped but Nia’´gwahē was nowhere within range. The path that he had made was a line that ran beyond the eye’s reach. He increased his speed but even then Nia’´gwahē was not to be discovered. Then he began to get frightened and wondered if the monster called into play his magic powers. It seemed so for though Swift Runner ran his swiftest the beast seemed to run still swifter. But he did not despair but kept on his journey, hopeful that his charms would be strong. After awhile, far in the distance, was a small speck that grew larger as Hahyennoweh ran toward it. That made him run faster and after some time he overtook the magic monster. It was nearly dark when Hahyennoweh caught up to the beast and it was none too soon for the race was almost over. He was very tired but as courageous and boastful as ever, so Hahyennoweh said, “Ho hoh, I’m up to you again! You are no runner! Who said you could run, you have been flattered. You are an ugly old woman to be flattered. You run just like a lame old woman. You have forgotten how to run. No you never knew how to run at all. Just let me show you how to run. I’ll never let you catch me as I have you. Oh you are very slow like a three-legged turtle. Now see me run!”

The young warrior ran ahead with very great speed over the plain until he saw the sun hang low and red over the hills. Then looking back, he saw a small speck. Two thoughts came into his mind. The first that he should go back and kill the beast, as the sun sank below the hills, and the second that perhaps the monster was shaming and would speed ahead should he retrace his steps. But in a moment he laughed at this second thought and was not afraid. Running back he saw that the Nia’´gwahē had fallen, unable longer to stand the strain of the contest. His panting was so great that he blew up leaves and sticks high in the air and bent the saplings about him.

The sun disappeared and the evening star shone bright in the sky. It was twilight and Hahyennoweh stood looking at the fallen big meat before him. He grasped the small blow gun from his back and fixed a small sharpened arrow. He aimed for a dark spot on the left front foot of the animal. He shot and the heaving sides no longer took in wind. The beast died where he fell.

It was getting dark and the Swift Runner was tired by his race, so he lay down beneath a high tree and went to sleep.

THE RETURN.

When he awoke the next morning he found himself wondering what could be on the road through the swamp,—the route chosen by the Nia’´gwahē. “Surely it must be some mischief,” he thought, “or he would not have been so maddened when I ran on the ridge. I think the monster grew so slow was because he was mad. I must explore the swamp and find the evil.”

The huge beast in his mad race had beaten a good path through the swamp, which the son proceeded to follow. After a journey of ten miles he made a discovery. The footprints of a hostile people, the marks of the enemy’s moccasins, were fresh in the path. Hahyennoweh advanced with caution and as it grew dark he saw ahead of him two fires. Hidden in the underbrush were temporary shelters erected by a hostile war party. Home was but five miles distant and the son crept noiselessly past the encampment and sped toward his father’s lodge. In the moonlight he saw a deer with very large legs. He looked still closer. The deer had men’s legs and wore leather leggings! The truth flashed upon his mind. Two of the enemy were reconnoitering and were planning an attack before the sunrise!

Entering the lodge he greeted his father and gave him the beast’s tusk, the big tooth that sticks out. The father received it without a comment and continued his smoking. Then very loudly the son exclaimed, “I’ve seen a deer. I am going to outrun him. I am going now to race him!” Then in a lower tone he added, “I will return soon, father, and tell you of my adventure, but wait.”

Grasping a stone axe he ran out in search of the strange deer. At length he espied it back of the lodge, peering in at his father. Creeping up with stealth the son struck the strange animal a crushing blow between the shoulders, the hatchet sank deep and the forequarters of the deer dropped to the earth without a sound. Quickly snatching the skin he wrapped it around the hind quarters and led them struggling into the lodge.

“Well father here is the deer of which I told you! Let us skin him and see what is inside! Unwrapping the skin he revealed the captive, who, nearly smothered, was too feeble to further resist. Hahyennoweh flung him into a corner and began to ply him with questions. “How many of you are there in the swamp? Why came you to kill my people? Where is your party hidden? What chief sent you? Who is your leader? Are any other tribesmen with you?” These and other questions he asked him. Bidding the captive lead the way Hahyennoweh advanced toward the enemy’s camp and reached it about midnight. He lashed the captive to a tree and stopped his mouth. The sleeping warriors were not aware of danger and never moved as they slept. Lifting high his hatchet Hahyennoweh struck the sleepers. Forty-two times he struck and each time killed an enemy and the captive bound against the tree saw it all. “Ha’´dĕgaiiwio‘!” he exclaimed as the last sleeper was struck and then turning to the terrified man bound to the tree he said “Iīs newa, now you!” He lifted his tomahawk but paused as he was about to strike then lifting it again let it fall with a blow the shook the tree. But it had not touched the man, the blow was not aimed at him, but instead it cut the thongs and set the captive free. “Now go with all your speed and tell your tribe not to send war parties against us again for we have strong medicine and cannot be harmed.” The captive thought so.

That night as the son sat at the fire in the lodge with his father stretching the scalps on hoops he told the story of his great race but not in a boastful way. His great deeds had made it necessary for him to boast no longer, for if he should men would laugh and say, “Hoh, you did better than that once!” So never after did he boast but took a good woman who had asked him to marry her.

In after years he told the story of the race again, that the tribe might not forget it, but his grandchildren were unbelieving. “Show us the spot and the bones and then we will glory in our grandfather,” they said laughing. So, undaunted, the old man whose name was changed to Nia’´gwahēgowa, (Mighty Magical Bear), in recognition of his great race, took his grandchildren on the journey and showed them the place where the beast had fallen. They dug into the soft soil and found the huge bones and the jaw where he had broken out the tusk.

The Indian story teller adds: “White man find bones right where the Nia’´gwahē fell long after, to this day. Put them in big musees, so story real true I guess!”

59. THE BOY AND THE NIA’´GWAHE.

The Five Nations had waged a war with the Snake People who lived in caves (the Cherokee). The Five Nations became exhausted. Both began to see that the cause was not worth such a loss of life, and so a treaty of peace was made. Each party promised to send warriors, women and families to settle with the other, and thus, by mutual adoptions and inter-marriage weave a bond of friendship.

The day arrived for the mutual emigrations, and patiently the Five Nations awaited the coming of their visitors, but none came, nor could news be obtained of their own party. A messenger was dispatched but he never returned. More were sent but, likewise, they never came back to report. At last the chiefs called a council to devise means to get to the land of their former enemies and learn how the party and the messengers had fared. A new messenger was chosen from the bravest of the warriors and a short distance behind a watcher followed. For two days all was well, but on the third the watcher looking ahead on the trail saw the messenger crawling laboriously along. Running toward him he found him wounded, stripped of all clothing and bleeding from tusk wounds and heavy bruises.

Niā’´gwahē!” whispered the man hoarsely, and fell dead.

The runner dashed down the trail crying, “Gowĕ´! Gowĕ´!”

A council was hastily called and the fate of the messenger discussed.

“Agē! So it is Niā’´gwahē who has been destroying our people and not our allies,” said the chief. “Truly now, some one must be found who is able and willing to destroy the evil. A brave one must he be for he will battle with the most powerful of all beast magic. He who grasps this white wampum belt shall be the chosen man and he shall have the belt ‘on his body’.”

The chief circled the council, holding the belt before every man but no one moved or lifted a hand.

“What!” said the chief, “are real men cowards! Has no one a heart and mind and arm strong enough to take this belt!”

Standing in the doorway of the council house was a boy, awkward in figure and uneven of feature. His parents were dead and his home was with his grandparents. He was accounted of a lowly family and as of foolish mind. The chief wished to make a laugh to break the seriousness of the situation and so called out, “Why not try Tedo‘!” The chief did not smile although the entire assembly laughed, but holding the beautiful belt out to the boy said, “Are you Oñgwĕhoweh?”

The boy grasped the belt and threw it over his shoulder.

“Do you know what you have done?” asked the chief solemnly.

The boy nodded his head and clasping the wampum ran from the council to his grandmother’s lodge.

“Oh grandmother!” he cried, “I have taken the belt to kill the nīa’´gwahē, he who blocks trail to our new ‘friend’.”

“What, you!” exclaimed the grandmother. “Why you are nothing but a ragged simpleton!”

“Well hurry then, and prepare my owĭs´hä,” said the boy, “for I am to kill nīa’´gwahē and need food for my journey.”

The old woman pounded the parched corn and mixed it with maple sugar.

“Now be off,” she said, “you and your dog!”

The boy started down the path talking to his dog. “I will not yield, I will demand yielding,” he said. “I will not be pursued, I will pursue, I will not see failure, I will succeed.”

For two days he journeyed down the trail that led to the allies’ country. At dawn on the third day there was a wild trampling in the forest and from the thicket rushed the nī’´gwahē. The dog rushed forward with a yelp but the great beast merely opened his jaws and drew in a breath and with it the dog flew down his throat.

Picking up a stump, the boy dashed forward, yelling, “I am after you, you cannot escape me!”

Now it happens that these words are the very ones used by a nīa’´gwahē when it pursues its prey, and such a charm have these words, that, as the beast repeats them, animals and men become weak and fall down as victims of the creature’s cunning. When this nīa’´gwahē heard its own cry flung back in its face, it was surprised. Its own words were turned into its own ears. Then the great beast turned and fled.

“Ha, ha!” laughed the boy, “you cannot escape me!”

All day the nīa’´gwahē fled from the boy who pursued it crying shriller and sharper, “I am after you, you cannot escape me!”

The sun began to set and the boy sat down on a log to eat his owĭs´hä with a little water, but when he opened his pouch he found his food a mass of wriggling maggots.

“Agē!” he exclaimed, “this does not discourage me,” and leaping from his seat, he took up the chase again, following closely upon the heels of the nīa’´gwahē. “Oho’!” he cried, “You are the one for whom I am looking! Very soon I will kill you.”

The sun went under the hills and the black night came.

“Agē, I am tired now, nīa’´gwahē, and must rest,” he said, “but I will kill you as soon as I get time.”

The beast trembled and ran on a short distance in the vain hope of escape but returning put his nose to the boy’s ear.

“Kwē!” he whispered, “Are you asleep?”

“No, not yet,” replied the boy with a yawn.

“Well then,” continued the beast, “I wish to tell you that I know I am defeated, but oh spare me, I beg of you, spare me! Have mercy and do not kill and I will flee from the land of men and hide in the icy north, never more to disturb or devour men.”

“Ho ho! this is your trick,” laughed the boy, with a sneer. “No mercy for you, you deserve only death. Hold up your foot and show me the spot!”

“Oh no, no, no,” begged the nīa’´gwahē plaintively. “Let me live and as a pledge of my truthfulness I will give you my teeth.”

The boy debated with himself and then asked, “What profit are teeth?”

“My teeth are my magic,” answered the creature, “and my magic is his who holds my teeth.”

“Well now,” said the boy slowly, “if your teeth will bring fortune to men I will accept them, but if ever you visit again the haunts of men, remember that I am the mightiest of wizards!”

With many groans the beast shed his teeth, crying, “All my magic strength and power are his who holds these teeth.”

The boy threw them in his pouch and bade the monster depart forever. The boy rested for some time and then ran with all speed to the land of the allies. He called a council and told his story.

“We thought your nation had destroyed our people whom we sent to you,” said the chief of the allies at the close of the boy’s speech.

“We also thought the same of you,” answered the boy.

The boy departed for his own village and held a great council, telling all he had seen, heard and done. The people were astonished beyond measure and cried, “Oh, tell us how you became powerful! What are your charm medicines?”

“This,” said the boy, “I grasped the white belt, I went and would not be pursued, neither would I fear.”

“But all thought you a fool,” said the people.

“Perhaps I am,” answered the boy, “if silence and observation mean I am only dull. But I only thought I would hold my mouth until my ears filled up.”

Then all the people shouted and called him a great chief.

Thus were the nations saved, so was the trail established and so was the nīa’´gwahē slain.

Now this is true and medicine men (Hotci´no’gä) have the teeth to this day and use them for magic.

X. TRADITIONS

SENECA BELIEF IN WITCHCRAFT.

It will be remembered that one of the first major tests of the authority of the State of New York over the Seneca Indians occurred in 1821 when Thomas Jemmy, a Buffalo Creek Indian, was indicted in a state court for the murder of a witch. Jemmy had been chosen executioner of the witch, after the order of tribal law, but his action aroused the attention of the neighboring whites who took court action against him.

Jemmy was defended by Red Jacket whose speech in defense of the accused man is a classic of Indian oratory. The trial resulted in the claim that state courts had no jurisdiction over the internal affairs of Indian tribes, and Jemmy was acquitted.

This incident serves to call attention to the very general belief of the Seneca Indians in witchcraft. Indeed not only did the Indians believe in it, but many of the neighboring whites. There are many white rural communities today where belief in witches is current, and one has only to visit the rural settlements about Reading, Pa., or read the accounts of investigations reported in the _Journal of American Folk Lore_, to find how prevalent among the whites of today is the belief in witches.

Red Jacket was somewhat familiar with history. In his defense he said, “Go to Salem, and there find a record of hundreds persecuted and scores slain for the same crime that has brought down the arm of vengeance upon the (guilty) woman.... What crime has this man committed more than the rulers of your own people, in carrying out in a summary way the laws of his people and your people, and the laws of his God and your God...?”

This belief in witches and sorcerers has not been entirely eradicated among the state Indians to this day. All the older Indians have witch stories to tell, and some of them have had personal experience with witchcraft. It is not considered good form to talk about witches, for if one reveals too much knowledge he is apt, himself, to be accused of the evil art. It matters not whether the Indian is a christian or non-christian as far as witchcraft is concerned. Both christians and followers of Handsome Lake express a belief in it.

It is customary for the Indians to call all manner of sorcerers, “witches.” Both sexes are implied, and it is to be doubted that an Indian would recognize the term wizard, though for the sake of consistent English I have employed the term throughout this work. To the Seneca all “otgont” charm holders are witches and capable of witchcraft. An Indian will seldom mention anything about witches to white people for fear of ridicule, but they admit that some white people know much about the sinister art. The Tonawanda Indians, for example, know of a white doctor who is capable of diagnosing the symptoms of witch poisoning, and he has a great reputation for curing bewitched patients.

An understanding of the Seneca belief in witchcraft is essential for an understanding of Seneca folk-lore, and not only folk-lore but the psychology of the group.

Certainly, all through the folk-lore of the Seneca, one will find a steady belief in the ability of “powered” persons to transform themselves into any sort of creature desired, particularly the form of some chosen animal. One of the most common methods is to have a collection of animal pelts into which the person may enter and assume the character of the beast, but retaining human intelligence. Most frequently in modern times the witch is reputed to be able to become an owl, a dog or a big snake.

To guard against witches many Indians buy witch powder from witch doctors. By using this properly the witch is kept away from the person and his household.

In case of uncertainty the witch doctor goes into a trance and prescribes the proper remedy. Sometimes a person is bewitched by a spirit or by a charm that he has failed to pacify. The charm then causes bad dreams, wounds, broken bones and even death in the family unless satisfied by the proper ceremony.

60. CONTENTS OF A CHARM HOLDER’S BUNDLE.

Edward Cornplanter stated that a complete bundle of charms (godä’ĕsniyus´ta’kwa), should contain the following articles: (a) Scales of the great horned serpent or some of its blood; (b) round white stone given possessor by a pygmy; (c) claws of the death panther or fire beast; (d) feathers of dewat´yowais, or exploding bird; (e) castor of white beaver; (f) otnä´yont, or sharp bone; (g) gane´ont-wŭt, or corn bug; (h) small mummified hand; (i) hair of dagwanoeient, or flying head of the wind; (j) bones or bone powder of the Nigä’´wahē or monster bear; (k) small flute or whistle from an eagles’ wing bone; (1) anti-witch powder; (m) bag of sacred tobacco; (n) claws or teeth of various wild animals; (o) a small mortar and pestle; (p) a small war club; (q) a small bow and arrow; (r) miniature bowls and spoons of wood; (s) a small wooden doll; (t) clairvoyant eye oil. These objects are called otcină‘ke^n’´dă’.

Individuals also had other charms, as different kinds of stones or wooden tablets that they scraped into a powder as “medicine.”

By consulting his bundle a charm holder could tell how to overcome a sorcerer’s influence, or determine what spirit had been offended and needed propitiation.

Each bundle was “sung for” in an appropriate ceremony of the charm holders’ society.

61. CONTENTS OF A WITCH BUNDLE.[53]

In a witch bundle found in an abandoned house of an old witch, the following articles were found:

1 bundle containing miniature weapons and utensils.

1 bundle containing dolls made of some soft brown wood.

1 package of small sacks from animal hearts.

1 ball of fine cord or thread.

1 box of dried snake blood.

1 bottle of eye oil.

1 package of hair of different shades.

1 bundle containing packages of various powders.

1 box containing a collection of various greases.

1 package containing smaller parcels of nail parings.

1 package of many wrappings containing a smaller inner package, with wet blood, and containing a small sharp bone.

1 dried human finger.

Collection of snake skins.

The witch is also reputed to have had a black calf skin, and a big dog skin. She was capable of transforming herself and much of the time lived in a small round pond as the wife of a monster black snake. When she finally died and was buried a witch light, gahai‘´, was seen over the pond.

62. OVERCOMING A WITCH.[54]

A strong man began to feel sick and could not tell what troubled him. He took all kinds of medicine and went to three doctors but he grew steadily worse. After a while he could work no more and went to the home of a friend for help. His friend told him to stay with him until he recovered.

He was given a room on the far side of the house and as it had only one window it could be easily darkened. He was very weak and could eat only one meal a day. This caused him to stay in bed most of the time. After a while his friend said: “I am going to go to Newtown after a witch doctor who has just come from Tonawanda.” So he went after the witch doctor.

The witch doctor made a poultice and placed it on the sick man’s abdomen. He covered the poultice with rags and moss. The poultice was very hot and appeared to be drawing something out of the patient. Pretty soon, the witch doctor yelled, “Now is the time,” and grabbed the poultice and ran to the kitchen stove where he threw the contents of the poultice into the ash pan. Then he stirred into the poultice and pulled out a small sharp bone with a white hair wound around it.

Everybody examined the bone, and finally the witch doctor said, “It is my opinion that Widow — is bewitching you.”

“Why, she calls here every day to see how he is,” said the woman of the house.

The witch doctor told her to watch for the witch and notice what she did when she came next time. The sick man did not sleep that night but covered his face and began to talk to himself. He was now becoming a “witch” himself. In his hand he held the witch bone with the hair around it.

The next morning an old woman left her cabin on a hill and started down into the valley and up another hill to visit the sick man. Suddenly he began to talk. “Here she comes,” he said. “She is now leaving her house. Now she is down by the well. Now she is on the road. Now she is crossing the bridge. Now she is at the gate. Now she is walking up the path. Now she is by the apple tree. Now she is at the door.” As he said this there was a rap-rap-rap outside and the housewife opened the door, and there stood the old woman.

The old woman looked worried. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” she said. “I worried too much about Bill, besides I think I have lost something.” Then she went in to see the sick man. He had his head covered but yelled out, “You’re the one; you leave me alone after this or I will kill you.”

The old woman pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about and soon went out.

That night the sick man talked to the bone. He wound one of his own hairs about it and then threw it at the wall, saying, “You go back to her and stick in her heart.”

Everybody in the house heard the bone fly through the wall, for it went “ping!” Then the sick man went to sleep.