Part 5

When the Sun ordered the door of the sweat-house opened he was surprised to find the children still alive. He then had them cast into another house, which was very large and filled with elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo; he peeped through an opening in the wall and saw the boys riding on the backs of the elk and deer apparently very happy and contented. He then had them placed in a house filled with bear, cougar, and rattlesnakes, and he peeped in and saw the children riding on the backs of the bear and cougar and they were happy and not afraid, and he said, “Surely they are my children,” and he opened the doors and let them out, and asked, “My children, what do you wish of me?” “Nothing, father,” they replied, “We came only to find our father.” He gave to each of them a bow and arrows, and to each three sticks (the rabbit stick), which he told them not to use until they reached home for if they threw one, intending it only to go a little way it would go very far. When they had proceeded on their journey but a short distance Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ, “Let us try our sticks and see how far they will go;” but U´yuuyewĕ refused, saying, “No; our father told us not to use them until our return home.” Ma´asewe continued to plead with his younger brother, but he was wise and would not yield. Finally Ma´asewe threw one of his, and it was going a great distance off, but he stopped it by throwing shells from his mouth.

The mother and grandmother were delighted to see the boys again, and happy for all to be under one roof, but the boys, particularly Ma´asewe, were soon anxious to travel. They wished to try the bows their father had given them, and after they had been home four days they started on a hunt. The mother said to the boys: “Children, I do not wish you to go far; listen attentively to what I have to say. Away to the east is a lake where many skoyo and their animal companions live and when the sun is over the middle of the world these people go to the lake to get water. They are very bad people and you must not go near the lake.” Ma´asewe replied, “Very well, mother; I do not care to go that way and I will look about near home.” But when the boys had gone a little distance Ma´asewe said to his younger brother, “Let us go to the lake that mother talked of.” U´yuuyewĕ replied: “I do not care to go there, because our mother told us not to go that way;” but Ma´asewe importuned his younger brother to go, and U´yuuyewĕ replied, “Very well.” They then followed the road indicated by their mother until the lake was discovered.

It was now about the middle of the day, and Ma´asewe said “There are no people here, none at all; I guess mother told us a story;” but in a little while he saw a great wolf approach the lake; then they saw him enter the lake; he was thirsty, and drank; both boys saw him at the bottom of the lake and they exclaimed: “See! he looks pretty in the bottom of the lake.” Ma´asewe said: “I guess he will drink all the water; see, the water grows less and less.” And when all the water was gone there was no wolf in the bottom of the lake and then the boys discovered the wolf on a low mesa, it having been only his reflection they had seen in the lake. The boys aimed their arrows at him, but they did not hit him and the wolf threw a large stick at them, but they bowed their heads and it passed over them. Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ: “I guess these people are those of whom mother spoke; see,” said he, “this stick is the same as those given us by our father.” The boys carried their rabbit sticks of great size and Ma´asewe aimed one of his at the wolf, who wore a shirt of stone which could be penetrated only at certain points. The wolf again threw a stick, but the boys jumped high from the ground and the stick passed under them. Ma´asewe said to U´yuuyewĕ, “Now, younger brother, you try.” U´yuuyewĕ had not used his arrows or sticks up to this time. He replied, “All right,” and throwing one of his sticks he struck the wolf in the side, and the protective shirt was destroyed for the moment. Then Ma´asewe threw a stick, but the shirt of stone again appeared protecting the wolf. U´yuuyewĕ, throwing a second stick killed the wolf. Then Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, the wolf is destroyed; let us return; but we will first secure his heart;” and with a stone knife he cut the wolf down the breast in a straight line, and took out the heart, which he preserved, saying: “Now we will return to our home.”

Upon their reaching home, their mother inquired: “Where have you been, where have you been?” “We have been to the lake,” said the boys. “My boys, you are fooling me.” “No, we are speaking the truth.” “Why did you go there?” Ma´asewe replied, “We wished very much to see the lake.” The mother asked: “Did you not see any Sko´yo?” “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “we saw one; at least we saw a great wolf;” and the mother cried, “Oh, my boys, you are not good boys to go there.” Then Ma´asewe told his mother that they had killed the wolf. At first, she refused to believe him; but when Ma´asewe declared he spoke the truth, the mother took the boys to her breast and said: “It is well, my children.” In a short time the boys started out on another tour. Before leaving home, they inquired of their mother where good wood for arrow shafts could be procured. “Far off to the north in a canyon is good wood for shafts, but a bad man sits in the road near by; this path is very narrow, and when one passes by he is kicked into the canyon by this bad man, and killed.” Ma´asewe declared to his mother he did not care to go there, but he was not far from her eyes before he prevailed upon U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him to this canyon, saying: “Let us go where we can find the best wood.”

It required some persuasion from Ma´asewe, as U´yuuyewĕ at first declared he would not disobey his mother. They traveled a long way ere reaching the bad old man, the cougar, but when they saw him they approached very cautiously, and Ma´asewe asked him if he could tell him “where to find good wood for arrow shafts.” “Yes, I know,” replied the cougar; “down there is much,” pointing to the canyon below. Ma´asewe inquired, “How can I reach the canyon?” The cougar said, “Pass by me; this is the best way.” Ma´asewe declared he must not walk before his elders, but the cougar insisted that the boys should pass in front of him. They were, however, determined to pass behind. Finally the cougar said, “All right.” Ma´asewe asked him to rise while they passed, but he only bent a little forward; then Ma´asewe said, “Lean a little farther forward, the path is narrow;” and the cougar bent his body a little more, when Ma´asewe placed his hands on the cougar’s shoulders, pressing him forward, saying, “Oh! the way is so narrow; lean just a little more; see, I can not pass.” U´yuuyewĕ, who was close to Ma´asewe, put both his hands on the cougar’s right shoulder, while his brother placed his on the left, they saying to him, “Just a little farther forward,” and, with their combined effort, they threw him to the canyon below, Ma´asewe crying out, “This is the way you have served others.” The cougar was killed by the fall.

The boys then descended into the canyon and gathered a quantity of wood for their arrow shafts. When their mother saw the wood she cried, “You naughty boys! where have you been?” They replied, “We have killed the cougar.” The mother refused to believe them, but Ma´asewe declared they spoke the truth. She then embraced her children with pride and joy.

Two days the boys were busy making shafts, to which they attached their arrows. Then Ma´asewe desired plumes for the shafts. “Mother,” said he, “do you know where we can find eagle plumes?” “Yes, I know where they are to be found. Away on the brink of a canyon in the west there are many plumes, but there is a very bad man there.” Ma´asewe said, “Well, I do not care to go there. We will look elsewhere for plumes.” But he had scarcely left the house when he urged U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him to the brink of the canyon. “No,” said U´yuuyewĕ, “I do not care to go there. Besides the bad man mother spoke of, there are many other bears;” but Ma´asewe finally persuaded U´yuuyewĕ to accompany him.

After a time Ma´asewe cried: “See, there is the house; younger brother, you remain a little way back of me, and when the bear passes by you aim your arrow at him.” Ma´asewe approached the house, and when the bear discovered the boy he started after him. Just as the bear was passing U´yuuyewĕ he shot him through the heart. Ma´asewe drew his knife down the breast of the bear, and took out his heart, cutting it into pieces, preserving the bits. “Now,” said Ma´asewe, “let us hasten and secure the plumes.”

They found many beautiful feathers. Then, returning to the bear, they flayed him, preserving the lower skin of the legs with the claws, separate from the remainder of the skin. They filled the body with grass and tied a rope around the neck and body, and Ma´asewe led the way, holding one end of the rope, he drawing the bear and U´yuuyewĕ holding the other end of the rope to steady the animal. As they approached their home they cried, “Mother, mother, see!” Their mother, hearing the cry, called, “What is it my children?” as she advanced to meet them, but when she discovered the bear she returned quickly to the house, exclaiming: “Let the bear go; do not bring him here; why do you bring the bad bear here?” The boys, following their mother, said, “Mother, the bear is dead.”

The boys remained at home two days completing their arrows. Then Ma´asewe said to his mother, “Mother, we wish to hunt for deer. Our arrows are good and we must have meat.” “That is good, my children, but listen. Away to the south lives an eagle in a high rock. She has two children. The father also lives there, and these parents are very large, and they eat all the little ones they find.” Ma´asewe replied, “We will not go there.” But he was no sooner out of his mother’s sight than he declared they must go to the home of the eagle. After they had proceeded a little way they saw a deer, and Ma´asewe drew his bow and shot him through the heart. They cut the deer down the breast, drew the intestines, and, after cleansing them from blood, the boys wrapped them around their necks, arms, and breast, over their right shoulders, and around their waists. “Now,” said Ma´asewe, “we can approach the house of the eagle.” When the boys drew near the eagles flew to the earth. One eagle, catching Ma´asewe and flying far above the house, dropped him on a sharp stone ledge in front of his house. The stone was sharp, like the blade of a knife, and it broke the intestines of the deer, which protected him from the rock, and the blood fell like rain. Ma´asewe lay still and the eagle thought he was dead. The mate then descended and caught Û´yuuyewĕ and, flying above her house, dropped him also upon the rock. He, too, lay perfectly still, and the eagles thought he was dead. “Now,” said the eagles, “our children will be happy and contented, for they have abundance of meat.” In a little while these birds started off on a long journey.

The young ones, having been informed by their parents that they were well provided with food, which would be found in front of their door when hungry, went out for the meat. Ma´asewe and Û´yuuyewĕ astonished them by speaking to them. They asked, “When will your mother return?” The children replied, “Our mother will return in the forenoon.” “When your mother returns will she come to this house?” “No,” replied the young eagles, “she will go to the one above and come here later.” “When will your father arrive?” “He will come a little later.” “Will he come here?” they asked. “No; he will go to the house above.” Ma´asewe then destroyed the young eagles. After killing them he dropped them to the earth below. Upon the return of the mother she stood upon the rock above, and Ma´asewe aimed his arrow at her and shot her through the heart, and she fell to the earth dead; and later, when the father returned, he met with the same fate.

Now, the boys had destroyed the bad eagles of the world. Then Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, how will we get down from here? The road to the earth is very long,” and, looking up, he said, “The road to the rock above is also very long.” Presently Ma´asewe saw a little Ké-ow-uch, or ground squirrel (_Tamias striatus_), and he called to him, saying, “My little brother, we can not get down from here. If you will help us we will pay you; we will give you beautiful eagle plumes.”

The squirrel planted a piñon nut directly below the boys, and in a short time—almost immediately—for the squirrel knew much of medicine, a tall tree was the result. “Now,” said the squirrel, “you have a good road. This is all right; see?” And the little animal ran up the tree and then down again, when the boys followed him.

Upon their return home their mother inquired, “Where have you been?” and when they told her they had visited the house of the eagle she said, “You have been very foolish.” At first she disbelieved their statement that they had destroyed the eagles; but they finally convinced her and she embraced her boys with pride. The grandmother was also highly pleased.

The boys remained at home only two days, Ma´asewe being impatient to be gone, and he said to his brother, “Let us go travel again.” The home of the boys was near the center of the earth, Ko´chinako remaining here for a time after their birth. When the mother found they were going to travel and hunt again, she begged of them not to go far, for there were still bad people about, and Ma´asewe promised that they would keep near their home. They had gone but a short distance when they saw a woman (a sko´yo) approaching, carrying a large pack which was secured to her back by strings passing around her arms near the shoulder. Ma´asewe whispered to his brother: “See! there comes a sko´yo.” The boys stood side by side, when she approached and said, “What are you children doing here?” Ma´asewe replied, “We are just looking about; nothing more.” The sko´yo passing her hands over the boys said, “What pretty boys! What pretty children! Come with me to my house.” “All right, we will go,” Ma´asewe being the spokesman. “Get into the pack on my back and I will carry you.” When the boys were tucked away the sko´yo started for her home.

After a time she came to a broad, level, grassy country and Ma´asewe called: “Woman! do not go far in this country where there are no trees, for the sun is hot and when there is no shade I get very sick in my head. See, woman,” he continued, “there in the mountains are trees and the best road is there.” The sko´yo called out, “All right,” and started toward the mountains. She came to a point where she must stoop to pass under drooping limbs upon which rested branches, which had fallen from other trees. Ma´asewe whispered to Ûyuuyewĕ, “When she stoops to pass under we will catch hold of the tree and hang there until she is gone.” The boys caught on to the fallen timber which rested across the branches of the tree, and the sko´yo traveled on unconscious of their escape. When she had gone some distance she wondered that she heard not a sound and she called, “Children!” and no answer; and again she called, “Children,” and receiving no answer she cried, “Do not go to sleep,” and she continued to call, “Do not go to sleep.” Hearing not a word from the boys she shook the pack in order to awaken them, as she thought they were sleeping soundly. This bringing no reply she placed the pack upon the ground and to her surprise the boys were not there. “The bad boys! the bad boys!” she cried, as she retraced her steps to look for them. “Where can they be? where can they be?”

When she discovered them hanging from a tree she called, “You bad boys! why are you there?” Ma´asewe said, “No! woman; we are not bad. We only wished to stop here and see this timber; it is very beautiful.” She compelled them to get into the pack and again started off, saying to the children, “You must not go to sleep.” The journey was long ere the house of the sko´yo was reached. She said, “I am glad to be home again,” and she placed the pack on the floor, telling the boys to get out. “My children, I am very tired and hungry. Run out and get me some wood for fire.” Ma´asewe whispered to his younger brother, “Let us go for the wood.”

In a little while the boys returned with loads of wood on their backs. Pointing to a small conical house near by, she said, “Children, carry the wood there,” and the sko´yo built a fire in the house and called the boys to look at it saying, “Children, come here and see the fire; it is good and warm.” Ma´asewe whispered to his younger brother, “What does the woman want?” Upon their approach the sko´yo said, “See! I have made a great fire and it is good and warm; look in;” and as the children passed in front of her she pushed them into the house and closed the door. She wished to cook the boys for her supper, and she smacked her lips with satisfaction in anticipation of the feast in store for her. But she was to be disappointed, as the boys threw shells from their mouths which instantly protected them from the heat.

After closing the door on the boys the woman went into her house and bathed all over in a very large bowl of yucca suds, washing her head first, and taking a seat she said to herself, “All is well. I am most contented and happy.” The boys were also contented. The woman, thinking it was about time her supper was cooked, removed the stone which she had placed in the doorway and secured with plaster. The boys had secreted themselves in one side of the house, where they kept quiet. What she supposed to be their flesh was i´isa (excrement) which the boys had deposited there. The woman removed this with great care and began eating it. (This woman had no husband and lived alone.) She said to herself, “This is delicious food and cooked so well,” and again and again she remarked to herself the delicious flavor of the flesh of the boys. Finally Ma´asewe cried, “You are not eating our flesh but our i´isa,” and she looked around but could see no one. Then U´yuuyewĕ called, “You are eating our i´isa,” and again she listened and looked about, but could see no one. The boys continued to call to her, but it was sometime before she discovered them sitting in the far end of the room. “What bad boys you are,” she cried, “I thought I was eating your flesh.” The woman hastened out of the house and tickling her throat with her finger vomited up the offal.

She again sent the boys for wood, telling them to bring much, and they returned with large loads on their backs, and she sent them a second time and they returned with another quantity. Then she again built a fire in the small house and left it, and the two boys exclaimed, “What a great fire!” and Ma´asewe called to the woman, “Come here and see this fire; see what a hothouse; I guess this time my brother and I will die;” and the woman stooped to look at the fire, and Ma´asewe said to her, “Look away in there. See, we will surely die this time. Look! there is the hottest point!” he standing behind the woman and pointing over her shoulder, the woman bending her head still lower to see the better, said, “Yes; the fire is best off there.” “Yes,” said Ma´asewe, “it is very hot there;” and the Sko´yo was filled with interest, and looked intently into the house. The boys, finally, inducing her to stoop very low so that her face was near the doorway, pushed her into the hot bed of coals, and she was burned to death.

The boys rejoiced, and Ma´asewe said, “Now that the woman is dead, let us go to her house.” They found the house very large, with many rooms and doors. In the middle of the floor there was a small circular door which Ma´asewe raised, and looking in, discovered that below it was very dark. Pointing downward, he said, “Though I can not see, I guess this is the most beautiful room. I think I will go below; perhaps we will find many good things.” As soon as he entered the door he disappeared from sight and vanished from hearing. U´yuuyewĕ, receiving no reply to his calls, said to himself, “Ma´asewe has found many beautiful things below, and he will not answer me; I will go and see for myself.” After entering the door, he knew nothing until he found himself by the side of his elder brother, and, passing through the doorway, the boys tumbled over and over into a lower world.

When Ma´asewe reached this new world he was unconscious from the fall, but after a time he revived sufficiently to sit up, when he beheld U´yuuyewĕ tumbling down, and he fell by the side of Ma´asewe, who was almost dead, and Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, why did you follow me?” After a while U´yuuyewĕ was able to sit up and Ma´asewe remarked: “Younger brother, I think we are in another world. I do not know where we are, and I do not know what hour it is. I guess it is about the middle of the day. What do you think?” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “You know best, elder brother; whatever you think is right,” and Ma´asewe said, “All right. Let us go now over the road to the house where the sun enters in the evening, for I think this is the world where our father, the sun, returns at night.”

A little after the middle of the day Ma´asewe was walking ahead of U´yuuyewĕ, who was following close behind, and he said to his younger brother as he listened to some noise, “I believe we are coming to a village.” When they drew a little nearer they heard a drum, and supposed a feast was going on in the plaza, and in a little while they came in sight of the village and saw that there was a great feast there. All the people were gathered in the plaza. The chi´ta was a little way from the village and there was no one in it, as the boys discovered when they approached it, and they ascended the ladder. Ma´asewe said, “This is the chi´ta. Let us enter.” The mode of entering shows this chi´ta to have been built above ground. Upon invading the chi´ta they found it very large and very pretty, and there were many fine bows and arrows hanging on the walls. They took the bows and examining them said to one another, “What fine bows and arrows! They are all fine. Look,” and they were eager to possess them. Ma´asewe proposed that they should each take a bow and arrows and hurry away, saying: “All the people are in the plaza looking at the dance, and no one will see us;” and they hastened from the chi´ta with their treasures. Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, let us return over the road whence we came.”

But a short time elapsed when a man had occasion to visit the chi´ta, and he at once discovered footprints, and entering, found that bows and arrows had been stolen; hurrying to the plaza he informed the people of the theft, saying, “Two men have entered the chi´ta. I saw their footprints,” and the people cried out, “Let us follow them,” and ran over the road which the boys had taken. The boys had nearly reached the point where they had lighted when they entered this lower world when the people were close upon them.

The little fellows had to run hard, but they held fast to their bows and arrows, and just as they stepped upon the spot where they had fallen when they descended, their pursuers being close upon them, a whirlwind carried them up and through the door and back into the house of the sko´yo. Ma´asewe said, “Younger brother, let us hurry to our mother. She must be sad. What do you think she imagines has become of us?” U´yuuyewĕ replied, “I guess she thinks we have been killed.” The boys started for their home. When they were still far from their house Ma´asewe asked, “Younger brother, where do you think these bows and arrows were made?” Holding them up before his eyes as he spoke, he said, “I think they are very fine.” U´yuuyewĕ remarked, “Yes, they are fine.”