When the two women heard these words they cried, and Wima said, “Well, my brother, we can put something on our teeth yet.”
Dokos placed his head between his hands and sat awhile in that posture. Then he straightened himself and said,—
“You two have talked enough; you would better stop. You are not like me; I am stronger than both of you, and I shall be so always. You, Wima, and you, Klak, will hate people only, but I shall hate all living things. I shall hate you, hate every one; kill you, kill every one. I want nothing of any one. I want no friend in any place.”
“Well,” said Olelbis, “you go as you are.”
“I will go first,” said Dokos.
“Go,” said Olelbis, “to Koiham Nomdaltopi, be flint there, and spread all around the place. You, Klak Loimis, will go to Klak Kewilton, be a rattlesnake there, increase and spread everywhere. I will send you, Wima, to Wima Wai Tsarauton; you will be a grizzly bear there. After a while a great family will come from you and spread over all the country. You will be bad; and, Klak, you will be bad, but, Dokos, you will be the worst, always ready to hurt and kill; always angry, always hating your sisters and every one living.
“You, Klak, and you, Wima, when you see people you will bite them, and people will take Dokos to kill you, and Dokos will go into your bodies, and you will die. Wima, you will be sorry that you would not let me change your teeth. You, Klak, will be sorry. You will bite people, and they will kill you because you cannot run away from them. Your dead body will lie on the ground, and buzzards will eat it.
“Dokos, you will go to your place and increase. People will go there and get you to kill your sisters and others for them, and when you have pleased them and killed all the people they wished you to kill, when they want you no longer, they will throw you down on a rock and break you to pieces, then you will be nothing. You will be dead forever. Now go!”
To all those who let their teeth be made innocent, Olelbis said: “You will go to where I send you,—one here, another there.” And he gave their places to all. To some he said: “After awhile the new people will use you for food,” and to the others he said: “The new people will use your skins, and you will be of service to them, you will be good for them.”
The first person taken up to Olelbis’s sweat-house was Tsurat; and now Olelbis spoke to Tsurat last of all and said,—
“Pluck one feather from your back.”
Tsurat plucked it.
Olelbis threw the feather to the earth and said,—
“The place where this falls will be called Tsurat-ton Mem Puisono. This feather will become woodpeckers, and their place will be there. Their red feathers will be beautiful, and every one will like their red scalps and will use them for headbands. The woodpeckers will be also called Topi chilchihl” (bead birds).
All people that were good on this earth only, of use only here, Olelbis sent down to be beasts, birds, and other creatures. The powerful and great people that were good in Olelpanti and useful there he kept with himself, and sent only a feather or a part of each to become something useful down here. The good people themselves, the great ones, stayed above, where they are with Olelbis now.
One character in this myth is of great importance in actual Indian belief, the Hlahi or doctor, the sorcerer. The position and power of the Hlahi are explained at length in the notes to this volume. Sanihas Yupchi, the archer of Daylight, is Tsaroki Sakahl, the messenger sent by Torihas to invite Katkatchila to hunt; he appears also as the friend and messenger of Waida Dikit, who assembled the world concert in which Hawt proved the greatest musician.PERSONAGESAfter each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.Hubit, wasp;Hus, buzzard;Kahit, wind;Kaisus, gray squirrel;Kiriú, loon;Kopus, small-horned owl;Kuntihlé, small hawk fishes in muddy water;Kut, unknown;Lutchi, humming-bird;Mem Loimis, water;Móihas, bald eagle;Pákchuso, the pakchu stone;Patkilis, jack rabbit;Pori Kipánamas, another name forKopus Sútunut, black eagle;Sánihas, daylight;Sotchet, beaver;Toko, sunfish;Tsaroki Sakahl, green snake;Tsárorok, fish-hawk;Tsudi, mouse;Tsurat, red-headed woodpecker;Winishuyat, foresight;Wokwuk, unknown.
One character in this myth is of great importance in actual Indian belief, the Hlahi or doctor, the sorcerer. The position and power of the Hlahi are explained at length in the notes to this volume. Sanihas Yupchi, the archer of Daylight, is Tsaroki Sakahl, the messenger sent by Torihas to invite Katkatchila to hunt; he appears also as the friend and messenger of Waida Dikit, who assembled the world concert in which Hawt proved the greatest musician.
PERSONAGES
After each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.
Hubit, wasp;Hus, buzzard;Kahit, wind;Kaisus, gray squirrel;Kiriú, loon;Kopus, small-horned owl;Kuntihlé, small hawk fishes in muddy water;Kut, unknown;Lutchi, humming-bird;Mem Loimis, water;Móihas, bald eagle;Pákchuso, the pakchu stone;Patkilis, jack rabbit;Pori Kipánamas, another name forKopus Sútunut, black eagle;Sánihas, daylight;Sotchet, beaver;Toko, sunfish;Tsaroki Sakahl, green snake;Tsárorok, fish-hawk;Tsudi, mouse;Tsurat, red-headed woodpecker;Winishuyat, foresight;Wokwuk, unknown.
ONE evening a woman came to Olelpanti. Her name was Mem Loimis.
“Why are you here?” inquired Olelbis; “and from what place have you come?”
“I have come from my home in the earth to ask if I may live with you. I have come from the north.”
“You may live here,” said Olelbis; and she stayed there. She lived with Olelbis, became his wife, and had two sons: the first was Wokwuk, the second Kut.
Kut was still small, when one day the woman went out a little to one side of the house to get something, and a man came to her and said, “Come with me—come right away!” And he took her, took her quickly, took her toward the north, to the place where Kahi Hlut is. This man was Kahit, and Kahi Hlut was his house.
Olelbis knew not where his wife had gone; he knew not which way she went; he had not seen her going out and had not seen her afterward. He inquired of every one who lived in Olelpanti. All they knew was that she had gone west a little way to get something.
For five years after the woman was carried away the people in Olelpanti had no water to drink. This woman had given them water, and now some one had taken her, and without her there was no water.
“I cannot tell what to do without water,” said Olelbis. “I don’t think my children can live without water. I don’t know what yapaitu likes my wife and has taken her.”
The people in and around Olelpanti talked a great deal about Mem Loimis.
“I don’t know how we are to live now,” said Toko Kiemila to Olelbis. “Some one has taken your wife away. I cannot live without water much longer.”
Another man who lay inside the sweat-house at the west end, an old man, stood up and said,—
“I do not know what people are to do without water. I do not know how you, Olelbis, are tolive without it. I cannot live unless I have water. I am very dry. Why do you not try to get water again? There is a man in Hlihli Pui Hlutton whose name is Kopus. You can see his house from here. He is a great Hlahi. He sings and dances every night. Let him come here to sing and dance. Perhaps he will be able to bring water back to us.”
The old man who said this was Hubit. He was suffering from thirst so much that he had tied a belt of sinews around his waist and tightened it till he was nearly cut in two.
Olelbis went to the top of the sweat-house and spoke to all the people.
“We must send for this Hlahi,” said he. “Let him come here to sing and bring water back to us. Some of you young men who walk fast must go for him to-morrow.”
That night they talked about the person who should go. One said to a second, “You walk fast; you ought to go.”
“I do not,” said the second; “but you walk fast. You are the person to go.”
And so they spoke one after another, till at last Lutchi said, “I cannot walk fast, but I will go.”
Early next morning he went out to the top of the sweat-house and said, “I am going!” and he shot away to the southeast.
He found the old Hlahi. He had not finished his night’s work yet. This Hlahi was Kopus Kiemila.
“Old man, you must stop awhile,” said Lutchi. “Olelbis lost his wife, Mem Loimis, years ago. He has two children, and he and all the people are very dry; they are thirsting, they are dying for want of water. He wants you to come and see if you can tell us what to do to bring water back to Olelpanti. Olelbis will give you five sacks of acorns for your pay. You must sing five nights for these five sacks. They are old acorns.”
“I will do that,” said Kopus. “I will go with you.”
Lutchi returned to Olelpanti with Kopus, who was called also Pori Kipanamas, which means a man wearing a headband of fresh oak leaves with two green acorns thrust in on each side. His face was painted with acorn mould. A great many people were waiting there, all very dry, very thirsty,—all hoping for water.
“I sent for you to come,” said Olelbis, “and you must hlaha[2]five nights. All my people, all my children, are dry. I am dry myself. I lost my wife five years ago. I don’t know where she went, and we have no water since she left us. I want you to sing and to dance. I want you to find out where my wife is.”
[2]Hlaha means, “to perform as a Hlahi, or doctor.”
[2]Hlaha means, “to perform as a Hlahi, or doctor.”
When night came, Olelbis gave a pipe filled with tobacco to Kopus and said, “Now you must hlaha.”
Kopus smoked, became tunindili,—that is, possessed. A Tsudi yapaitu came to him and beganto chant. The yapaitu, speaking through Kopus, said,—
“I have looked all around the world, I have looked everywhere; every smell has come to my nose, every sight to my eyes, every sound to my ears, but to-night nothing comes to me. I cannot see, I cannot hear, I cannot smell.” And he stopped.
“I am going to dance the spirit dance,” said Kopus. “Who will sing for me?”
“Let these two Tsudi girls sing,” said Olelbis.
Hubit was lying on the east side of the sweat-house, and he said,—
“Make haste, you two girls, and sing for that Hlahi. I am nearly dead, almost cut in two, I am so dry.”
He had tightened his belt a little that evening. Kopus danced all night, and the two girls sang for him.
“I have not found out which way that woman went,” said he, next morning.
He danced five days and nights, and then said: “I can tell nothing. I know nothing about this woman, Mem Loimis.”
Every bola heris[3]that was lying inside the sweat-house was terribly thirsty. One old man got up and said,—
[3]Bola means “to tell one of the creation myths;” bolas means “one of the myths;” bola heris is an actor in any of them, a personage mentioned or described in a creation myth.
[3]Bola means “to tell one of the creation myths;” bolas means “one of the myths;” bola heris is an actor in any of them, a personage mentioned or described in a creation myth.
“What kind of a Hlahi have you here? What kind of a Hlahi is Kopus? He is here five daysand nights and can tell nothing, knows nothing. If you wish to learn something, bring a Hlahi who has knowledge of water.”
“This old Kopus knows nothing of water,” said Toko. “Old Kopus is a good Hlahi for acorns and for the Tsudi and Kaisus people; that is all he is good for. I know this Kopus well. Get a Hlahi who knows more than he does.”
“You bola herises tell us,” said Olelbis, “who is a good Hlahi for water, and we will get him. Look at my children; they are almost dying of thirst. Tell us where their mother, Mem Loimis, is.”
“Oh, daylight, come quickly; be here right away! I am almost cut in two I am so dry. Oh, daylight, come quickly!” groaned Hubit.
No one mentioned another Hlahi. So Olelbis talked on,—
“All the people said that Kopus was a good Hlahi. That is why I got him; but he is not a good Hlahi for water. Now we will get Sanihas Yupchi, the archer of daylight, who lives in the farthest east, he is the son of Sanihas. He is small, but he is a great Hlahi. Lutchi, you must go now for Sanihas Yupchi. Here are one hundred yellowhammer-wing arrows for him, all red, and many others.”
Lutchi went to the east end of the sweat-house, danced a little, sprang onto the sweat-house, danced a little more, and then whizzed away through the air. Lutchi travelled all day and all night, reached the place about daylight next morning, and said to Sanihas,—
“Olelbis sent me here to ask your son to come and hlaha for him. He sends you all these five hundred arrows made of kewit reed and one hundred yellowhammer-wing arrows to come and hlaha.”
“You must go,” said Sanihas to her son, “and I will follow you. Olelbis is a yapaitu himself; he ought to know where that woman is,—he thinks that he knows everything; but you go and hlaha, and hear what your yapaitu tells you.”
Sanihas Yupchi started, and was at the sweat-house in Olelpanti next morning just as the sun was rising. He went into the sweat-house, and Olelbis gave him many things.
“Give me tobacco,” said Sanihas Yupchi. “I am going to hlaha.”
Olelbis gave him a pipe with tobacco; he smoked it out and was not possessed. Olelbis gave him another pipeful, and he smoked it out, but was not possessed. He smoked out ten pipefuls, and then people said,—
“I am afraid that the yapaitu will not come to him.”
He smoked twenty more pipefuls, still he was not possessed; then twenty more, did not hlaha.
“He is no Hlahi,” cried people on all sides; “if he were, the yapaitu would have come to him long ago.”
“The yapaitu he is waiting for does not live near this sweat-house; he is very far away,” said Toko. “Give him more tobacco.”
They gave him five pipefuls, then four, then onemore,—sixty in all; after that a yapaitu came to him.
“The yapaitu has come,” said Olelbis. “I want you to look everywhere and learn all you can; my children are nearly dead from lack of water; you must tell where Mem Loimis is.”
Sanihas Yupchi began to sing, and he said, “I will have the spirit dance to-night; the two Tsudi girls may sing for me.”
He danced twenty nights and days without saying a word,—danced twenty days and nights more. The two Tsudi girls sang all the time. Then Sanihas Yupchi sat down, said nothing; he had found out nothing.
Again he danced five days and nights, then four days and nights, then one day and one night more. After that he sat down and said,—
“I am going to speak. The place of which I am going to tell is a long way from here, but I am going to talk and let you hear what I say. Did any one see which way this woman Mem Loimis went?”
One person answered: “She went west a short distance to get something. That was the last seen of her.”
“Was anything the matter with that woman?” asked Sanihas Yupchi. “Does any one know?”
“Yes,” said Olelbis, “she was with child.”
“Well, while she was out, a man came to her and took her away with him, took her far north and then east beyond the first Kolchiken Topi, where the sky comes down, where the horizon is; he tookher to the place where he lives, and he lives in Waiti Kahi Pui Hlut. His name is Kahit, and after he took her home they lived pleasantly together till her child was born. Kahit did not claim that child as his. After a while Mem Loimis grew angry at Kahit, left her child with him, and went eastward, went to the other side of the second horizon. She stayed there awhile, and gave birth to two sons, children of Kahit. Then she went farther east to a third horizon, went to the other side of that, stayed there, is living there now. The boy that was born when she lived with Kahit was Sotchet. Sotchet’s father was Olelbis. When the child grew up a little, Kahit said to him: ‘Your father lives in Olelpanti.’”
Sanihas Yupchi told all this, and said to Wokwuk and Kut, the two sons of Olelbis,—
“Your mother has gone a long way from here. Mem Loimis is far from you. She is very far east. If I were at home, I could go to her quickly, but I am here. Now you must go and see your mother. In the far east you have two brothers, Kahit’s sons. When you have passed three Kolchiken Topis, three horizons, you will see them, and they will know you. The way to your mother and brothers is long. That is what my yapaitu says to me—my yapaitu is the Winishuyat of Patkilis.”
Sanihas Yupchi was Tsaroki Sakahl, a great person.
Wokwuk and Kut, the two sons of Olelbis by Mem Loimis, went away east. Patkilis’s Winishuyat, the yapaitu of Sanihas Yupchi, said that hewould go and help them till they had passed the second horizon. They did not see him. He was invisible.
They travelled one day, came to the first horizon, and passed that; then travelled a second day, reached the second horizon, and passed that. The yapaitu, Patkilis’s Winishuyat, told them then how to pass the third horizon, and, having given every useful direction, went back to Sanihas Yupchi.
Sanihas Yupchi was waiting all this time in Olelpanti. Olelbis’s elder son, Wokwuk, had tied the hair on top of his head with a young grapevine and thrust a chirtchihas bone through it—his father had given him this bone at starting. With this bone he was to raise the sky. He put it under the edge of the sky and raised it. When he and his brother had passed through, the sky came down with a terrible noise. When they had passed the third sky, they could see far east. Everything was nice there and looked clear, just as it does here at daylight when all is bright and beautiful. After going a short distance they saw two boys coming toward them. Soon the four met.
“Hello, brothers!” called out the other two.
“Who are you?” asked Wokwuk. “How do you know that we are your brothers?”
“We know because our mother talks about you always. She told us this morning that we must go out and play to-day. ‘Perhaps you will see your brothers,’ said she to us; ‘perhaps they will come, we do not know.’ You have come, and now we will go to our mother.”
When they reached the house, on the third evening, the two sons of Olelbis stood by the door while Kahit’s two sons ran in and said: “Mother, our brothers have come!”
Mem Loimis was lying at the east end of the house. She was lying on a mem terek, water buckskin; her blanket was a mem nikahl, a water blanket.
“Well, tell them to come in.”
The brothers went in. Mem Loimis rose and said,—
“Oh, my sons, I think of you always. I live far away from where you do, and you have travelled a long road to find me.” She spread the mem terek on the ground, and said: “Sit down here and rest.”
“My mother,” said the elder son of Olelbis, “my brother is very dry. We have had no water in Olelpanti for many years. Did you think that we could live without water?”
“I could not help your loss. What could I do?” said Mem Loimis. “I was stolen away and carried far north, and from there I came to this place; but your father is my husband. He knows everything; he can make anything, do anything, see everything, but he did not know that I was here. You shall have water, my children; water in plenty.”
She held a basket to her breast then and took water from it, as a nursing mother would take milk, filled the basket, and gave it to the boys. She gave them plenty to eat, too, and said,—
“You boys are all my children. You are sons of Mem Loimis. I am here now; but if there should be disturbance, if trouble were to rise, my husband Kahit would come and take me away. He told me so. Some day my husband Olelbis will know his son in the north who is living with Kahit. Some day my husband Olelbis will think of me; he may want me to come to him, he may wish to see me.”
Wokwuk and Kut stayed five days with their mother, then one day, and after that one day more. Sanihas Yupchi, who was dancing and chanting in Olelpanti continually, said after the boys had gone:
“Get me a suhi kilo” (a striped basket).
Olelbis got him the suhi kilo, a little basket about two inches around, and very small inside. Sanihas Yupchi put it in the middle of the sweat-house. Nine days more passed, and Sanihas Yupchi was dancing all the time.
That morning Mem Loimis said to Kut, the youngest son of Olelbis,—
“Your uncle Mem Hui, an old man, who lives at the first horizon west of Olelpanti, is dry. He is thirsting for water. Take water to him. Your elder brother will stay here with me while you are gone.”
Sanihas Yupchi had danced fifty-nine days. On the sixtieth evening Mem Loimis gave Kut a basketful of water for his uncle in the west.
“Go,” said she, “straight west to where the old man lives. When you have reached Mem Hui with the water, I will go and see my son Sotchetin the north. I hear him cry all the time. He is dry. I will carry him water.”
She gave Kut, in a net bag before he started, ten gambling sticks cut from grapevine. She tied the bag around his neck, and said,—
“Son of Mem Loimis, you will be a bola heris; you will be a great gambler.”
Kut was a very quick traveller, and could go in one night as far as his brother in many nights and days. He started. There were holes in the bottom of the basket, and as he went over the sky, high above the top of Olelpanti Hlut, the water dropped and dropped through the holes in the basket, and just before morning one drop fell from the basket which Kut was carrying, and dropped into the basket which Sanihas Yupchi had placed in the middle of the sweat-house at Olelpanti.
No one saw the water come, but in the morning the little basket was full; the one drop filled it.
“Now,” said Sanihas Yupchi, “I have worked as Hlahi all this time, and that drop of water is all that I can get. You see it in the basket.”
The little basket in Olelbis’s house that the one drop filled stood there, and Olelbis said,—
“Now you are dry, all you people in this sweat-house. You are thirsty, you are anxious for water. Here is one drop of water. We do not know who will drink first; but there is an old man on the west side of the sweat-house crying all the time, crying night and day, for water. Let him come and look at it.” He meant Hubit.
Hubit stood up, came, looked at the basket andsaid: “What good is this to me? There is only a drop there. It will do me no good.”
“Drink what there is; you talk so much about water,” replied all the others, “that you would better drink.”
“That drop can do no good to any one.”
“Well, take a taste, anyhow,” said Olelbis; “it will not hurt you.”
“I don’t want a taste, I want a drink,” answered Hubit.
“Take a drink, then,” said Olelbis.
Hubit began to drink. He drank and drank, took his belt off about the middle of the forenoon, put his head on the edge of the basket and drank from morning till midday, drank till two men had to carry him away from the water and lay him down at the upper end of the sweat-house.
Though Hubit drank half a day, the water in the basket was no less.
Kiriu Herit drank next. He drank long, but did not lower the water. After him Sutunut drank till he was satisfied; then Moihas drank all he wanted.
“Let all come and drink. When each has enough, let him stand aside,” said Olelbis.
Tsararok drank, and then Kuntihle drank; then Hus and Tsurat; after them the old women, Pakchuso Pokaila, the grandmothers of Olelbis, drank; then Toko; then Kopus drank. But the people murmured, saying,—
“Kopus is no Hlahi; he ought not to have any of our water. He is only good for acorns.”
The two Tsudi girls, who had sung so long, drank very heartily.
Lutchi lived outside, east of the sweat-house; they called him to drink. He took one sip and went out. Lutchi never liked water.
Now Sanihas Yupchi, who had brought the water, drank of it; and last of all, Olelbis.
When all were satisfied, and Toko had gone back and lain down in his place north of the sweat-house, the basket was put near him; and ever after Toko had water in abundance, and so had every one.
There was plenty of water ever after in Olelpanti for all uses; but if Sanihas Yupchi had not brought it, all might have perished for want of water.
“I will go home now,” said Sanihas Yupchi, after he had drunk. He wished well to every one and went away.
When Kut was carrying the basket westward, every drop that fell made a spring,—wherever a drop fell a spring appeared.
This myth, which recalls the Helen of Troy tale, is extremely interesting both as regards personages and structure. At present I shall make but few remarks, and those relating only to personages. Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine, known here as Norwan, is the cause of the first war in the world. The porcupine in American mythology is always connected with sunlight, so far as my researches go, and Norwan is connected with daylight, for she dances all day, never stops while there is light. Her title of Bastepomas, food-giving, is also significant, and would help to show that she is that warm, dancing air which we see close to the earth in fine weather, and which is requisite for plant growth. We have another “light” person in this myth, Sanihas, who is light in a generic sense, daylight generally and everywhere. The root Sa in Sanihas is identical with Sa in Sas, the Wintu word for “sun.” Sa means “light” and Sas “for light,”i. e.for the purpose of giving light. Sanihas is the light which is given.In Bastepomas, the title given by Olelbis to Norwan, the first syllable ba means “to eat,” bas means “for to eat” or food, tep means “to give,” and tepomas “she who gives;” the whole word means “she who gives food.”Chulup Win Herit, the great chief, the white, pointed stone who lives on the bed of the great eastern water, the ocean, the husband of Sanihas, has a counterpart in Tithonos, the husband of Eos or Aurora, in classic mythology. Both had beautiful wives, and were visited by them nightly in the bed of the ocean. Chulup’s tragedy is somewhat greater, for he is caught by Wai Karili and pounded into bits near the present Mt. Shasta, while Tithonos is only changed into a cricket. Eos, the Latin Aurora, was considered as the whole day by most poets, and Sanihas in Wintu mythology is the whole day, all the light that Sas gives.There was a reason why Norwan preferred Tede Wiu to Norbis, but we can only infer it at present. The present Wiu bird isbrown, and has no significance in this connection, but there was a red Wiu, the bird into which the Tede Wiu who fought with Norbis was changed. That he was a person who might be preferred by Norwan, herself a special form of light, is evident when we consider the immense importance in European tradition of the robin-redbreast and of the red-headed woodpecker among Indians.That Norwan, food-giving light on the earth, was worth fighting for, is evident.PERSONAGESAfter each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.Bisus, mink;Boki, sturgeon;Búlibok, a small nighthawk;Chali Dokos, obsidian;Chati Wai Halina, pine-nut bug;Chir Chuma, sucker;Cho, blackbird;Chuchu, dog;Chulup Win, a pointed rock;Chutuhl, a small bird that goes in flocks;Dokos, flint;Dokos Hilit, flint fly;Hamam, the longest black feather in the tail of the black vulture;Hau, red fox;Hawt, eel;Héssiha, tomtit;Hlihli, acorn;Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine;Ho, polecat;Hokohas, mud turtle;Hus, turkey buzzard;Kahi Buli Pokaila, wind mountain old woman;Kahit, wind;Kaisus, gray squirrel;Kar, blue heron;Karili, coon;Katsi, chicken hawk;Kaukau, white heron;Kawas, basket;Keli, flint from which knives are made;Kichi Not, a kind of arrow;Kíchuna, a small bird that frequents rocks;Kilichepis, ——;Kiri Hubit, a kind of wasp;Kobalus, a shell;Koip, a small bird which calls “koip”;Kopus, a small night-owl;Kot, diver;Kóyumus, a flint of mixed colors;Kukupiwit, crooked breast;Nomdal Lenas, streaks in the west;Nomel Hiwili, a bird with white-tipped wings which comes down with a buzz very quickly;Nom Sowiwi, ——;Nom Toposloni, west fir bark;Norbis, dwelling or sitting in the south;Nórhara Chepmis, heavy south wind with rain;Norpatsas, southern fire sparks;Norwan, ——;Notudui Ulumus, he stoops and picks up stones;Pai Homhoma, he buzzes in the manzanita;Patkilis, jack rabbit;Puiké Tsumu, a deep red flint;Saiai Not, hollow arrow;Saias, white flint;Sánihas, daylight;Sau, acorn bread;Sawe, mixed white and blue flint;Sedit, coyote;Séhinom Chábutu, chicken hawk;Serin Dólite, small bumble-bee;Siriwit, whirlwind;Sútunut, black eagle;Tede Wiu, a small brown bird about as large as an English sparrow;Tenek Not, a kind of arrow;Tidok, ant;Tsánteris, a kind of shell;Tsotso tokos, a small very adhesive burr;Tsudi, mouse;Tsuini, a kind of small fish;Tubuk, ——;Tuichi kelis, feathered head net;Wai Charatawa, ——;Waida Werris, polar star;Wainom Yola, northwestern snow;Wai Hau, northern red fox;Wai Not, northern arrow;Wik, small night hawk;Wai Karili, northern coon;Wul Wuhl, linnet;Yípokus, black fox.
This myth, which recalls the Helen of Troy tale, is extremely interesting both as regards personages and structure. At present I shall make but few remarks, and those relating only to personages. Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine, known here as Norwan, is the cause of the first war in the world. The porcupine in American mythology is always connected with sunlight, so far as my researches go, and Norwan is connected with daylight, for she dances all day, never stops while there is light. Her title of Bastepomas, food-giving, is also significant, and would help to show that she is that warm, dancing air which we see close to the earth in fine weather, and which is requisite for plant growth. We have another “light” person in this myth, Sanihas, who is light in a generic sense, daylight generally and everywhere. The root Sa in Sanihas is identical with Sa in Sas, the Wintu word for “sun.” Sa means “light” and Sas “for light,”i. e.for the purpose of giving light. Sanihas is the light which is given.
In Bastepomas, the title given by Olelbis to Norwan, the first syllable ba means “to eat,” bas means “for to eat” or food, tep means “to give,” and tepomas “she who gives;” the whole word means “she who gives food.”
Chulup Win Herit, the great chief, the white, pointed stone who lives on the bed of the great eastern water, the ocean, the husband of Sanihas, has a counterpart in Tithonos, the husband of Eos or Aurora, in classic mythology. Both had beautiful wives, and were visited by them nightly in the bed of the ocean. Chulup’s tragedy is somewhat greater, for he is caught by Wai Karili and pounded into bits near the present Mt. Shasta, while Tithonos is only changed into a cricket. Eos, the Latin Aurora, was considered as the whole day by most poets, and Sanihas in Wintu mythology is the whole day, all the light that Sas gives.
There was a reason why Norwan preferred Tede Wiu to Norbis, but we can only infer it at present. The present Wiu bird isbrown, and has no significance in this connection, but there was a red Wiu, the bird into which the Tede Wiu who fought with Norbis was changed. That he was a person who might be preferred by Norwan, herself a special form of light, is evident when we consider the immense importance in European tradition of the robin-redbreast and of the red-headed woodpecker among Indians.
That Norwan, food-giving light on the earth, was worth fighting for, is evident.
PERSONAGES
After each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.
Bisus, mink;Boki, sturgeon;Búlibok, a small nighthawk;Chali Dokos, obsidian;Chati Wai Halina, pine-nut bug;Chir Chuma, sucker;Cho, blackbird;Chuchu, dog;Chulup Win, a pointed rock;Chutuhl, a small bird that goes in flocks;Dokos, flint;Dokos Hilit, flint fly;Hamam, the longest black feather in the tail of the black vulture;Hau, red fox;Hawt, eel;Héssiha, tomtit;Hlihli, acorn;Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine;Ho, polecat;Hokohas, mud turtle;Hus, turkey buzzard;Kahi Buli Pokaila, wind mountain old woman;Kahit, wind;Kaisus, gray squirrel;Kar, blue heron;Karili, coon;Katsi, chicken hawk;Kaukau, white heron;Kawas, basket;Keli, flint from which knives are made;Kichi Not, a kind of arrow;Kíchuna, a small bird that frequents rocks;Kilichepis, ——;Kiri Hubit, a kind of wasp;Kobalus, a shell;Koip, a small bird which calls “koip”;Kopus, a small night-owl;Kot, diver;Kóyumus, a flint of mixed colors;Kukupiwit, crooked breast;Nomdal Lenas, streaks in the west;Nomel Hiwili, a bird with white-tipped wings which comes down with a buzz very quickly;Nom Sowiwi, ——;Nom Toposloni, west fir bark;Norbis, dwelling or sitting in the south;Nórhara Chepmis, heavy south wind with rain;Norpatsas, southern fire sparks;Norwan, ——;Notudui Ulumus, he stoops and picks up stones;Pai Homhoma, he buzzes in the manzanita;Patkilis, jack rabbit;Puiké Tsumu, a deep red flint;Saiai Not, hollow arrow;Saias, white flint;Sánihas, daylight;Sau, acorn bread;Sawe, mixed white and blue flint;Sedit, coyote;Séhinom Chábutu, chicken hawk;Serin Dólite, small bumble-bee;Siriwit, whirlwind;Sútunut, black eagle;Tede Wiu, a small brown bird about as large as an English sparrow;Tenek Not, a kind of arrow;Tidok, ant;Tsánteris, a kind of shell;Tsotso tokos, a small very adhesive burr;Tsudi, mouse;Tsuini, a kind of small fish;Tubuk, ——;Tuichi kelis, feathered head net;Wai Charatawa, ——;Waida Werris, polar star;Wainom Yola, northwestern snow;Wai Hau, northern red fox;Wai Not, northern arrow;Wik, small night hawk;Wai Karili, northern coon;Wul Wuhl, linnet;Yípokus, black fox.
AT a place east of Pas Puisono a woman came up out of the earth. Her name was Hluyuk Tikimit. She had another name, Pom Norwanen Pitchen. We call her also Norwan.
She appeared before the present Wintu people came out of the ground, at Tsarau Heril.
“I am in this world now,” said Norwan to herself. “I will look around everywhere to see from what places people are coming.”
She lived alone in her sweat-house, which was called Norwan Buli Hlut, remained in the house and danced during daylight.
Olelbis looked down at this woman and said,—
“This is my sister, who has come up before the new people on earth. I don’t know what she will do yet.”
When Olelbis was building his sweat-house in Olelpanti, he cut a piece from a white-oak tree, and this piece rolled down outside the sky to the lower world, where it became a people in Nor Puiken, in the southeast, and that people were there before the present Wintus came out of the ground at Tsarau Heril.
“My dear sister has come up before the Wintus, and will be with them hereafter,” said Olelbis. “I have not settled yet how her work is to be, have not made her ready for it.”
He put his hand toward the southeast then, and took yósoü (a plant that has a red blossom). He gave this plant to Norwan, and said,—
“Take this, my sister, and when you dance use it as a staff. It will have a blossom on the top which will be blooming always.”
He reached southeast to the same place, took a small bird, plucked a feather from each wing, gave the feathers to Norwan, and said,—
“My sister, thrust these through your hair, just above your forehead, one on each side. These feathers will begin to sing in the morning early; you will know by them at what time you must begin to dance.”
He stretched his hand again to the southeast, and took buri luli, which is a little red blossom that grows in spring on a plant about a foot high. He gave the blossoms to Norwan and said,—
“Roll this in your hands, crush it, put the juice on your face, and make your cheeks red.”
Olelbis turned then to his grandmothers, who were standing near by, and asked if they had acorns.
“We have,” said they. “We have plenty.”
Olelbis took a handful, gave them to his sister, and said,—
“When you shell these acorns, rub them between your palms and hold your hands open; blow the dust which scatters; you will see it rise high into the trees, and acorns will come on them.”
It was on the first morning after she had come to Norwan Buli that Olelbis gave Norwan the staff, feathers, blossoms, and acorns. On the secondmorning very early the feathers began to sing; then flocks of birds of their kind came flying toward the sweat-house, and Norwan heard a voice far up in the sky calling to her, and saying,—
“My brother’s daughter, you have come upon earth before the Wintu people, and are dancing. When you dance you must not look toward the west, nor the north, nor the south, but turn your face and look toward Hlihli Pui Hlutton in the southeast, the place from which your staff and your paint came.”
While this man was talking, Norwan looked up and saw him sitting with one leg crossed upon the other. He was holding a handful of white-oak acorns in his hand, and was sitting over the door of the sweat-house in Olelpanti. It was Kar Kiemila.
“Now, my brother,” said Olelbis to Hessiha, who lived with him in Olelpanti, “I think it is best for you to go down to our sister and stay with her. Live with her always. When your feathers drop away or are pulled off hereafter, they will become like you, and there will be hessihas on the earth everywhere. Our sister will tell you what to do. You will stay with her, never leave her. The people will call our sister Bastepomas, because she is the food-giving woman. When you see anything, let her know; when you hear anything, tell her; when you want to do anything, ask leave of her.”
Hessiha went down to live with his sister. Next day he saw a woman coming from the east and going west. He told Norwan, and she said,—
“Watch which way she goes, my brother. Perhaps she will come to us here.”
He watched. She came straight to Norwan Buli.
“My younger sister,” said she to Norwan, “I came out in the east, but I don’t like to live there. I have left that place, and am going far away to the west. In the evening look westward, a little after sunset, you will see a red, yellow, and white person, Nomdal Lenas Loimis. I am she. I shall look nice. That is the kind of person that I am. I shall live in the west always, and you will see me there as streaks of colored light. I will turn my face to the east every evening on pleasant days, and all the Wintu people will say when they see me, ‘Winis Nomdal Lenas Loimis’” (look at Nomdal Lenas Loimis).
“Very well,” said Norwan, “I am glad to hear what you say, my elder sister.”
Nomdal Lenas went off to the west. She was an immensely large woman with a big face, her hair was cut across her forehead, and this made it look beautiful. She was the first woman in the world who cut her hair in that fashion. Her face was painted in streaks of red, yellow, and white.
Next morning Hessiha saw another woman coming from the east. She stopped at Norwan Buli, and said,—
“My younger sister, we came upon this earth at the same time, before the Wintu people. I am going to the west a little distance. I came out in the east, but I did not like the place there. I amgoing to Bohem Buli. I will stay there and live on the north side of the mountain. I will be a mountain woman. My name is Kukupiwit Pokte.”
She went to Bohem Buli.
Norwan danced always during daylight, never stopped in the daytime, never rested till evening.
Norbis Kiemila, the white oak which rolled to the southeast, looked toward the northwest and saw Norwan. “I see my wife on this earth,” said he.
One evening Hessiha and Norwan were in the sweat-house, and Hessiha said,—
“My sister, I have heard news to-day from Norbis Kiemila. He says that you are to be his wife.”
She said nothing, and Hessiha talked on: “My sister, I heard a man say that he would come to see you. He lives at Sonomyai—he is Sedit, Sedit of Sonomyai.”
“My brother,” said Norwan, “what are you telling me?”
“I am telling you, my sister, what I have heard. Sedit is coming.”
“Why does he come? I don’t like him. He has a bad breath.”
Next morning Norwan rose and began to dance.
“My sister,” said Hessiha, that evening, “I hear that a man is coming from Chanahl Puyuk, a good man. His name is Kaukau Herit. He is coming to see you.”
“Why does he come here?” asked Norwan. “His neck is too long, his legs are too long.”
“Well, my sister, I have heard that a man who lives far away west is coming to see you, Kobalus Herit. He is a good man. He lives at Nomken Kobalus Waimemton.”
“That man has a crooked nose,” said Norwan, “and a crooked mouth. I don’t like him, he is all twisted.”
Next evening Hessiha said,—
“There is a man who lives at the same place as Kobalus Herit. He wants to see you. His name is Tsanteris Herit.”
“That man has a hollow breast,” said Norwan. “I don’t like him.”
“A man from the far north is coming, Keli Herit.”
“I don’t like him,” said Norwan; “he has a bad odor. He smells like the earth.”
“A man from way down south, Bisus Herit, is coming to see you.”
“Oh, I don’t like him; his legs are too short; he eats bony fish.”
“My sister, a man is coming who lives a short distance south of us, Tede Wiu Herit.”
“I don’t like him; he has too much breast; it sticks out too much.”
“My sister, Katsi Herit is coming.”
“I know him,” said Norwan. “He is too quick-tempered: he gets angry too easily.”
“Chati Wai Halina Herit is coming to see you.”
“I don’t like him; he smells of pitch always.
“I must go now for wood; we have no wood thisevening,” said Norwan, and she went out to bring some. She brought an armful, and while going to the same place for a second bundle she heard some one coming. A man took her by the arm. She turned, and saw Sedit of Sonomyai dressed beautifully. She pushed him away and ran home. Sedit did not follow her.
Next morning early she went out, and looking at one side of the door saw two stones lying there, and a hooked stick four or five feet long, called lakus, used to pull a limb of a tree toward you. She broke the stones to pieces, broke the stick, threw the pieces in the fire, and burned them. She knew that some man had put them there and intended to come. That night she was lying on the south side of the sweat-house and her brother on the north. It was dark, and they heard some one coming toward the house. The stranger came in, sat down behind Hessiha, sat with his head between his hands; his hair was sticking out, and looked as though it had never been combed. Norwan looked at this person, never took her eyes from him, but said not a word, and he said nothing. After a while he stood up and walked out. While going he threw something toward Norwan. It fell near her, and she picked it up. It was a small net bag half full of mice. She threw it after the stranger. He was Chati Wai Halina.
When morning came, Norwan took a bundle of brush, went to where the visitor had sat, swept the place clean, and threw fresh earth on it.
The next night they heard some one walking outside. Soon a man came in. He had a quiver in his hand made of deerskin. He looked around and went over behind the place where Norwan was lying and sat down. She lay there looking at him. After sitting awhile he lay down, stayed all night, and went away just at daybreak. This was Norbis Kiemila.
In the early morning before dancing she built a fire outside and sat down at it. That same morning Hessiha saw a man coming toward them, coming from the southeast. When he came to where Norwan was at the fire, he sat down. His name was Serin Dolite. He wore a bunch of fresh leaves on each side of his head. He had a second name, Pai Homhoma.
“My sister,” said this man, “I have come because my uncle sent me to tell you that the people at Hlihli Pui Hlutton finished talking yesterday, and they are going to have a great feast and a pleasant time. ‘Tell my niece,’ said he, ‘to come and dance with us.’ My uncle is Kopus Kiemila. He is named also Pui Uhlukyo. He is a Hlahi. He sent word to Norbis two days ago, and he sent word to Kaukau Herit. He has sent word everywhere. There will be a great many people in Hlihli Pui Hlutton. He has sent word to Sedit, who lives at Sonomyai, and to Katsi Herit, who lives opposite Pas Puisono, and to Kobalus Herit and Tsanteris Herit and Keli Herit and to Tede Wiu Herit, who lives at Koï Nomsono, and many others. He has sent to your brother Waida Werris. WaidaWerris may come; he may not. Kopus Kiemila wants you to come surely.”
“Very well,” said Norwan, “I will go to-morrow.”
Serin Dolite was satisfied and went away.
“Now, my little brother,” said Norwan to Hessiha that night, “I am going away to-morrow. You will stay here, I hope. I shall be glad if you stay at home and take care of this house.”
When she rose in the morning, she stretched her right hand toward the southeast and got buri luli, which are very beautiful red flowers. She put her hand there a second time, and to her hand came hawe luli, pure white blossoms, for clothing. A third time she put her hand out, and hluyuk luli, which are the star flowers, came on it. These she put around her head as a garland, and made shoes of the same flowers. Then she took her staff yósoü.
“My brother,” said she, when dressed, “I am ready to go.”
“My brother’s daughter,” called Kar Kiemila from Olelpanti when she was starting, “go and dance. I will sit here and look at you.” Sweat-house doors look toward the south usually, but the great one above, made by Olelbis, on which Kar Kiemila was sitting, had its door in the east, because Olelbis took most of his beautiful things from the southeast, and he could look down in that direction from the door of his house in Olelpanti. The door in Hlihli Pui Hlutton was toward the west, because from that door they couldsee the great house in Olelpanti. The house built by Olelbis was the best in all the world, above or below. Kopus Kiemila’s house was second to it, and the best in the lower land.
Norwan went at the time appointed, and Hessiha stayed behind at Norwan Buli. When Serin Dolite brought the invitation, Norwan made him promise to meet her on the road.
“You must come,” said she, “to give me news before I reach the sweat-house.”
Just at the edge of a place called Pui Toror, Serin Dolite ran out and met Norwan.
“Oh, my sister,” said he, “Kopus Kiemila sent me to say to you to come quickly, to hurry. The people from every place are there now. All those have come of whom I told you, except Norbis and your brother Waida Werris; they have not come yet. Besides others, Boki Kiemila from Hlop Henmenas has come. You must hurry as much as you can, and come quickly.”
When he had given the message, he rushed back and left Norwan to travel at her own pace. She went along the top of Pui Toror, and came to a spot where she heard much laughing and talking. Soon she saw a large crowd of children playing. The ground was smooth,—no rocks, no grass, just level land. When she came up, the children said to her,—
“Our elder sister, we want to see the dance. We want to go to the sweat-house, but we have nothing to wear; we have no clothes and we can get none.”
The girls were all of the Tsudi people, the boys, Patkilises. Norwan looked around and saw at some distance a great many sunflower leaves.
“We took leaves like those,” said one of the boys, “and tried to put them on as ears, but we could not make them stay.”
Norwan stretched her hand southward, and gray fog which rises from water came on it. She put this fog on a Patkilis boy to wear. She stretched her hand to the east, and red and yellow feathers came to it. Of these she made ears for that Patkilis boy. She put her hand south and found willow catkins, white ones, and made a tail and put it on the Patkilis boy. She gave him shoes made of the catkins. When that one boy was dressed, she said, “Let all the others be like this one;” and that moment all Patkilis boys were like him.
Now she took acorn mould, green and brown, put it on one of the Tsudi girls. She took yósoü leaves from her staff (the leaves are like mice ears), and put them on the girl for ears. She took more acorn mould, rubbed and rolled it out like a little stick, and made a tail. When one Tsudi girl was dressed nicely, she said, “Let all the others be like this one;” and that moment they were like her.
“Now, sister,” said they, “we are ready.”
Norwan started, and all the Tsudi girls and Patkilis boys went with her. When they came to the door of the sweat-house, they looked around and saw that all the trees were full of fresh, beautiful acorns; the top of the house was covered with them. There were piles and piles of acorns inside andaround the sweat-house, and a little way off a great many trees were loaded with fruit.
From Olelpanti they could see down into Hlihli Puihlutton. All persons who had come were inside. Norwan looked in and saw many people, all looking toward the door.
“See Norwan coming,” said they. “She is beautiful,—oh, she is beautiful!”
Kopus Kiemila was on the south side, near the door. He had five sacks of acorns near him. He was singing over them, singing about health and soundness. When he saw Norwan, he said,—
“Come in; come in, my brother’s daughter. You are one of the last. All have come but two.”
She went beyond Kopus to a seat. A young woman who was sitting near rose and said,—
“Come, my sister; come and sit with me.”
This was Hlihli Loimis. Her brother Hlihli Herit stood always on top of Kopus’s house and called, “Hai! Hai!” which means “Come! Come!” and beckoned with his hand for people to enter.
Norwan sat down at the south side of the door, and all the Tsudi and Patkilis children took their places behind her.
“You are almost the last to come,” said Hlihli Loimis. “Look at the north side of the house. See how many people are there. See the light; that is Kaukau Herit. He is white and shining; light beams from him.”
“Now,” said Kopus, “all you people from thenorth, my sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law, make ready to dance.”
The northern people rose at his call and danced. Kaukau Herit danced. When he rose and moved, it was as when a light is brought into a dark place. He danced five times and sat down.
“Now, my sons-in-law,” said Kopus, “sit back and look on. My sons-in-law from the west, you will dance now; dance you, Katsi Herit and Sedit of Sonomyai, and dance you, my daughters-in-law.”
The western people danced; Sedit, Boki, all danced. While they were dancing, they dropped beautiful shells. These shells fell from them as snow falls from the sky, and the whole floor was covered with shells, just as mountains in winter are covered with snow.
“Now sit back and look on,” said Kopus. The western people sat down.
“My sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law,” called Kopus to the southern people, “make ready to dance.”
The two Tede Wiu brothers from Koï Nomsono were to lead the southern people in the dance. Kopus called five times; the southern people did not move. Then the elder Tede Wiu made a step and stopped; when he raised his foot to take a second step, all began to dance. Both brothers carried a load of mempak on their arms, and each had a flint knife. As they danced they attached long strings of mempak to one side of the house higher than a man’s head; they extended the strings to the other side and tied themthere. They stretched mempak in this way from side to side as they danced, and from end to end, lengthwise and crosswise; then they danced under it. The beautiful strings were shining in every color just above their heads. The music, the mempak, and the dancing were so beautiful that all were delighted; all people were glad; they could hardly sit still and look on.
The brothers danced up to where Kopus was sitting, took strings of shell and mempak from their necks and heads, and put them down before him; next they put down their two beautiful knives. When they had done this they danced away to the other end of the sweat-house, and then danced up again to where Kopus was.
Norwan rose and began to dance without knowing it. She could not help dancing. Every one looked at her. She danced with the two brothers, danced away to the other side of the house with them. Only after a time did she see that she was dancing.
The two brothers sat down; she sat with them. Then the three stood up and went out.
They had just gone when Norbis came in. He was splendidly dressed, wore mempak, had a garland of fresh young leaves on his head, and on the top of it mempak. He sat down and asked some one near by,—
“Where is my wife?”
“Norwan has gone with the two Tede Wiu brothers.”
“I don’t believe that!” said Norbis.
He sprang up, went around, and asked others. All said, “She is with the Tede Wiu brothers.”
At last Norbis went out, taking his people. They had gone into the house, but had not danced. They followed at his call. He went swiftly to the northwest to overtake the two brothers.
The dance was at an end. All started home. Daylight was near.
The two brothers did not go to Norwan Buli Hlut, which was farther north than Koï Nomsono. They kept the woman at their own house till morning. When they reached home each of the brothers said,—
“My people, be ready for a great hunt at daybreak.”
When daylight came the elder brother said,—
“Come, my people, we will eat together. You must all eat with me this morning.”
While eating they heard shouts on the west bank of Bohema Mem, and soon they saw two men running toward them,—men finely dressed, with plumes on their heads. The men crossed the river, and came to the house of the Tede Wius. They were the Wul Wuhl brothers.
“We are here to tell you,” said they, “that Norbis is very angry. He has roused all his people, and they are coming. He has sent us to tell you that he is beyond the Bohema Mem waiting for you. Norbis asks you to send out that woman to him.”
The brothers said nothing.
“If you give her, he will go home; if not, he will fight with you.”
“We cannot give her,” said the elder Tede Wiu. “We did not go to the dance for her; we did not take her away from it. She came with us of her own will. If we give her away, she may come back right away to us. She can go where she likes, but we will not give her to any one.”
The two messengers took this answer to Norbis.
“I believe this man will come against us,” said each of the brothers. They went into the house and brought out elkskin armor.[4]