[Contents]LOK AND HER CHILDRENCHARACTERLokBearLok was a widow with two children; she lived with her mother. The old woman took care of the roots. She put them in a hole and slept with her head near it. When her daughter brought roots home and poured them into the hole, the children wanted some of them to eat, but the old woman said: “First I must give roots to the fire, to the mountains, the trees, the house, and the springs.” (This is the custom.)The daughter said: “My children are hungry; you must give them some of the roots.”Lok said: “You don’t know about these things. If they get sick, you will blame me.”The old woman took roots and talked to the mountains; she said: “You must give us wood that won’t burn us.” To the springs she said: “Old grandmother, you always have water under your care; give us plenty of good water.” To the house she said: “You know us, our house that we built.” She talked to each part of the house. (If people didn’t talk to the posts of the house they would fall. The woman who told this myth said she had known of such cases.) To the posts she said: “Hold up this house; be good to us.”She packed away all the roots they dug, ten large basketfuls, then she and her daughter brought in wood enough to last till spring.The old woman said: “Grandchildren, I want you to bring me gum from the cedar trees.” When they brought it, she covered her face with it and stopped up her eyes. Then she lay down with her head over the hole and didn’t go out of the house again all winter. Some mornings she woke[204]up and gave a handful of roots to the children. In the night, when the children were asleep, she ate plenty of roots herself.One morning her daughter asked: “How is it that rats are always gnawing; why don’t you kill them?”“I wish you wouldn’t listen to everything,” said the old woman.One morning she said to the little girl: “I wish you wouldn’t cry in the night.”The mother said: “You don’t give the children enough to eat; they are hungry.”“You don’t know about the winter,” said the old woman. “It’s going to be long, and our roots won’t last: the snow will be deep yet.”The children were hungry, but their mother said: “You mustn’t cry, it makes your grandmother worse.”The boy said: “Let us kill her; she has no eyes.”“If we tried to kill her, she would kill us; you are small and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from her.”“What are you whispering about?” asked the grandmother.“The children talk low becausetheyare weak; you are starving them to death.”One morning old Lok asked: “Which way does the snow come?”The boy looked out, and said: “It comes from the north.”“That shows it will be good weather to-morrow.” She gave the children a few roots.The next day the old woman said: “I wish I had some meat to eat.”“Stop!” said her daughter. “Don’t talk like that.” She was afraid that her mother wanted to kill the children and eat them.The next morning the grandmother asked: “How does the sky look?”The little boy said: “There are clouds.”“Where are the clouds?”“They are around Omisna.”“That means rain,” said the old woman. “It won’t be long till spring comes.” She took out plenty of roots[205]and pounded them for the children. (They were fooling her.)The next day she sent the little girl to look at Mlaiksi.The girl said: “Smoke is rising from the top of the mountain, as if someone had made a fire up there.”The old woman was taking out a few roots, but she poured them back, and said: “There is going to be a great storm.”The storm came. It put out their fire, and for four days old Lok didn’t move. Five days the children were without anything to eat; then she asked the little boy: “How does it look now?”“It is raining.”The old woman said: “If it rains, you can go and dig roots.”The daughter cried and told her the children were starving. She gave them a few roots. The little boy said to his mother: “Why can’t we dig a hole near the roots and steal some of them?”“I know what you are talking about,” said the old woman. “I know that it is winter yet.”One morning she asked: “Is it spring?”Her daughter said: “I don’t know,” and she told the children not to tell their grandmother anything about the weather. It rained and hailed. Every night the mother and children cried. Each morning they stamped on the ground to find out if it were soft. One day the mother went off, and when she came back she brought a few roots. The children were sitting out of doors, and she heard the old woman ask them: “Where is your mother?”“She has gone for wood,” said the boy.The mother put away some of the roots and gave the rest to the children.The old woman asked: “Does it snow yet?”The little boy said: “There is so much snow that I can’t see the tops of the trees.”The grandmother put more gum on her eyes, rolled herself up tight, and lay still.The mother made two pairs of straw moccasins, and the next morning started for roots. It was spring now, and she[206]found plenty for her children to eat. While she was gone, the old woman asked: “Which way is the wind?”“From the southwest,” said the boy. His mother had told him to fool his grandmother, and let her lie there all summer. The mother could make the wind blow—the wind was her medicine. Every time she found a fly in the house, she killed it with a porcupine quill, so the old woman wouldn’t know it was spring.There were a good many of the Lok people around the place where the mother dug roots; she left some roots for them to take care of, and said: “In two days I will come back and bring my children.”When she got home, she made moccasins for the children, and in the morning, when she was ready to start, she said to her mother: “It snows. I am tired of packing wood; I am going to take the children to the woods and keep a fire there; you never stay by the fire.”The mother worked all day and dug a great many roots; she had a big basketful to put away. She wondered where she could put them so the old woman couldn’t find them. Then she thought of Keŏnise, a hill where Lok didn’t go. It was a long way off, but she carried the roots there and hid them.When the children didn’t come back, the grandmother scratched around in the ashes, found live coals and melted the gum out of her eyes; then she tracked her daughter.As soon as the daughter knew that her mother was coming, she went to the house, took the roots out of the hole, and threw them around everywhere.When the old woman came back, the daughter said: “We won’t be persons any longer. In later times people will kill and eat us.”The old woman said: “It is better so.”They wandered off to the mountains, and from that time only a male bear and female bear live together, and they never have more than two children.[207]
[Contents]LOK AND HER CHILDRENCHARACTERLokBearLok was a widow with two children; she lived with her mother. The old woman took care of the roots. She put them in a hole and slept with her head near it. When her daughter brought roots home and poured them into the hole, the children wanted some of them to eat, but the old woman said: “First I must give roots to the fire, to the mountains, the trees, the house, and the springs.” (This is the custom.)The daughter said: “My children are hungry; you must give them some of the roots.”Lok said: “You don’t know about these things. If they get sick, you will blame me.”The old woman took roots and talked to the mountains; she said: “You must give us wood that won’t burn us.” To the springs she said: “Old grandmother, you always have water under your care; give us plenty of good water.” To the house she said: “You know us, our house that we built.” She talked to each part of the house. (If people didn’t talk to the posts of the house they would fall. The woman who told this myth said she had known of such cases.) To the posts she said: “Hold up this house; be good to us.”She packed away all the roots they dug, ten large basketfuls, then she and her daughter brought in wood enough to last till spring.The old woman said: “Grandchildren, I want you to bring me gum from the cedar trees.” When they brought it, she covered her face with it and stopped up her eyes. Then she lay down with her head over the hole and didn’t go out of the house again all winter. Some mornings she woke[204]up and gave a handful of roots to the children. In the night, when the children were asleep, she ate plenty of roots herself.One morning her daughter asked: “How is it that rats are always gnawing; why don’t you kill them?”“I wish you wouldn’t listen to everything,” said the old woman.One morning she said to the little girl: “I wish you wouldn’t cry in the night.”The mother said: “You don’t give the children enough to eat; they are hungry.”“You don’t know about the winter,” said the old woman. “It’s going to be long, and our roots won’t last: the snow will be deep yet.”The children were hungry, but their mother said: “You mustn’t cry, it makes your grandmother worse.”The boy said: “Let us kill her; she has no eyes.”“If we tried to kill her, she would kill us; you are small and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from her.”“What are you whispering about?” asked the grandmother.“The children talk low becausetheyare weak; you are starving them to death.”One morning old Lok asked: “Which way does the snow come?”The boy looked out, and said: “It comes from the north.”“That shows it will be good weather to-morrow.” She gave the children a few roots.The next day the old woman said: “I wish I had some meat to eat.”“Stop!” said her daughter. “Don’t talk like that.” She was afraid that her mother wanted to kill the children and eat them.The next morning the grandmother asked: “How does the sky look?”The little boy said: “There are clouds.”“Where are the clouds?”“They are around Omisna.”“That means rain,” said the old woman. “It won’t be long till spring comes.” She took out plenty of roots[205]and pounded them for the children. (They were fooling her.)The next day she sent the little girl to look at Mlaiksi.The girl said: “Smoke is rising from the top of the mountain, as if someone had made a fire up there.”The old woman was taking out a few roots, but she poured them back, and said: “There is going to be a great storm.”The storm came. It put out their fire, and for four days old Lok didn’t move. Five days the children were without anything to eat; then she asked the little boy: “How does it look now?”“It is raining.”The old woman said: “If it rains, you can go and dig roots.”The daughter cried and told her the children were starving. She gave them a few roots. The little boy said to his mother: “Why can’t we dig a hole near the roots and steal some of them?”“I know what you are talking about,” said the old woman. “I know that it is winter yet.”One morning she asked: “Is it spring?”Her daughter said: “I don’t know,” and she told the children not to tell their grandmother anything about the weather. It rained and hailed. Every night the mother and children cried. Each morning they stamped on the ground to find out if it were soft. One day the mother went off, and when she came back she brought a few roots. The children were sitting out of doors, and she heard the old woman ask them: “Where is your mother?”“She has gone for wood,” said the boy.The mother put away some of the roots and gave the rest to the children.The old woman asked: “Does it snow yet?”The little boy said: “There is so much snow that I can’t see the tops of the trees.”The grandmother put more gum on her eyes, rolled herself up tight, and lay still.The mother made two pairs of straw moccasins, and the next morning started for roots. It was spring now, and she[206]found plenty for her children to eat. While she was gone, the old woman asked: “Which way is the wind?”“From the southwest,” said the boy. His mother had told him to fool his grandmother, and let her lie there all summer. The mother could make the wind blow—the wind was her medicine. Every time she found a fly in the house, she killed it with a porcupine quill, so the old woman wouldn’t know it was spring.There were a good many of the Lok people around the place where the mother dug roots; she left some roots for them to take care of, and said: “In two days I will come back and bring my children.”When she got home, she made moccasins for the children, and in the morning, when she was ready to start, she said to her mother: “It snows. I am tired of packing wood; I am going to take the children to the woods and keep a fire there; you never stay by the fire.”The mother worked all day and dug a great many roots; she had a big basketful to put away. She wondered where she could put them so the old woman couldn’t find them. Then she thought of Keŏnise, a hill where Lok didn’t go. It was a long way off, but she carried the roots there and hid them.When the children didn’t come back, the grandmother scratched around in the ashes, found live coals and melted the gum out of her eyes; then she tracked her daughter.As soon as the daughter knew that her mother was coming, she went to the house, took the roots out of the hole, and threw them around everywhere.When the old woman came back, the daughter said: “We won’t be persons any longer. In later times people will kill and eat us.”The old woman said: “It is better so.”They wandered off to the mountains, and from that time only a male bear and female bear live together, and they never have more than two children.[207]
LOK AND HER CHILDREN
CHARACTERLokBearLok was a widow with two children; she lived with her mother. The old woman took care of the roots. She put them in a hole and slept with her head near it. When her daughter brought roots home and poured them into the hole, the children wanted some of them to eat, but the old woman said: “First I must give roots to the fire, to the mountains, the trees, the house, and the springs.” (This is the custom.)The daughter said: “My children are hungry; you must give them some of the roots.”Lok said: “You don’t know about these things. If they get sick, you will blame me.”The old woman took roots and talked to the mountains; she said: “You must give us wood that won’t burn us.” To the springs she said: “Old grandmother, you always have water under your care; give us plenty of good water.” To the house she said: “You know us, our house that we built.” She talked to each part of the house. (If people didn’t talk to the posts of the house they would fall. The woman who told this myth said she had known of such cases.) To the posts she said: “Hold up this house; be good to us.”She packed away all the roots they dug, ten large basketfuls, then she and her daughter brought in wood enough to last till spring.The old woman said: “Grandchildren, I want you to bring me gum from the cedar trees.” When they brought it, she covered her face with it and stopped up her eyes. Then she lay down with her head over the hole and didn’t go out of the house again all winter. Some mornings she woke[204]up and gave a handful of roots to the children. In the night, when the children were asleep, she ate plenty of roots herself.One morning her daughter asked: “How is it that rats are always gnawing; why don’t you kill them?”“I wish you wouldn’t listen to everything,” said the old woman.One morning she said to the little girl: “I wish you wouldn’t cry in the night.”The mother said: “You don’t give the children enough to eat; they are hungry.”“You don’t know about the winter,” said the old woman. “It’s going to be long, and our roots won’t last: the snow will be deep yet.”The children were hungry, but their mother said: “You mustn’t cry, it makes your grandmother worse.”The boy said: “Let us kill her; she has no eyes.”“If we tried to kill her, she would kill us; you are small and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from her.”“What are you whispering about?” asked the grandmother.“The children talk low becausetheyare weak; you are starving them to death.”One morning old Lok asked: “Which way does the snow come?”The boy looked out, and said: “It comes from the north.”“That shows it will be good weather to-morrow.” She gave the children a few roots.The next day the old woman said: “I wish I had some meat to eat.”“Stop!” said her daughter. “Don’t talk like that.” She was afraid that her mother wanted to kill the children and eat them.The next morning the grandmother asked: “How does the sky look?”The little boy said: “There are clouds.”“Where are the clouds?”“They are around Omisna.”“That means rain,” said the old woman. “It won’t be long till spring comes.” She took out plenty of roots[205]and pounded them for the children. (They were fooling her.)The next day she sent the little girl to look at Mlaiksi.The girl said: “Smoke is rising from the top of the mountain, as if someone had made a fire up there.”The old woman was taking out a few roots, but she poured them back, and said: “There is going to be a great storm.”The storm came. It put out their fire, and for four days old Lok didn’t move. Five days the children were without anything to eat; then she asked the little boy: “How does it look now?”“It is raining.”The old woman said: “If it rains, you can go and dig roots.”The daughter cried and told her the children were starving. She gave them a few roots. The little boy said to his mother: “Why can’t we dig a hole near the roots and steal some of them?”“I know what you are talking about,” said the old woman. “I know that it is winter yet.”One morning she asked: “Is it spring?”Her daughter said: “I don’t know,” and she told the children not to tell their grandmother anything about the weather. It rained and hailed. Every night the mother and children cried. Each morning they stamped on the ground to find out if it were soft. One day the mother went off, and when she came back she brought a few roots. The children were sitting out of doors, and she heard the old woman ask them: “Where is your mother?”“She has gone for wood,” said the boy.The mother put away some of the roots and gave the rest to the children.The old woman asked: “Does it snow yet?”The little boy said: “There is so much snow that I can’t see the tops of the trees.”The grandmother put more gum on her eyes, rolled herself up tight, and lay still.The mother made two pairs of straw moccasins, and the next morning started for roots. It was spring now, and she[206]found plenty for her children to eat. While she was gone, the old woman asked: “Which way is the wind?”“From the southwest,” said the boy. His mother had told him to fool his grandmother, and let her lie there all summer. The mother could make the wind blow—the wind was her medicine. Every time she found a fly in the house, she killed it with a porcupine quill, so the old woman wouldn’t know it was spring.There were a good many of the Lok people around the place where the mother dug roots; she left some roots for them to take care of, and said: “In two days I will come back and bring my children.”When she got home, she made moccasins for the children, and in the morning, when she was ready to start, she said to her mother: “It snows. I am tired of packing wood; I am going to take the children to the woods and keep a fire there; you never stay by the fire.”The mother worked all day and dug a great many roots; she had a big basketful to put away. She wondered where she could put them so the old woman couldn’t find them. Then she thought of Keŏnise, a hill where Lok didn’t go. It was a long way off, but she carried the roots there and hid them.When the children didn’t come back, the grandmother scratched around in the ashes, found live coals and melted the gum out of her eyes; then she tracked her daughter.As soon as the daughter knew that her mother was coming, she went to the house, took the roots out of the hole, and threw them around everywhere.When the old woman came back, the daughter said: “We won’t be persons any longer. In later times people will kill and eat us.”The old woman said: “It is better so.”They wandered off to the mountains, and from that time only a male bear and female bear live together, and they never have more than two children.[207]
CHARACTERLokBear
Lok was a widow with two children; she lived with her mother. The old woman took care of the roots. She put them in a hole and slept with her head near it. When her daughter brought roots home and poured them into the hole, the children wanted some of them to eat, but the old woman said: “First I must give roots to the fire, to the mountains, the trees, the house, and the springs.” (This is the custom.)
The daughter said: “My children are hungry; you must give them some of the roots.”
Lok said: “You don’t know about these things. If they get sick, you will blame me.”
The old woman took roots and talked to the mountains; she said: “You must give us wood that won’t burn us.” To the springs she said: “Old grandmother, you always have water under your care; give us plenty of good water.” To the house she said: “You know us, our house that we built.” She talked to each part of the house. (If people didn’t talk to the posts of the house they would fall. The woman who told this myth said she had known of such cases.) To the posts she said: “Hold up this house; be good to us.”
She packed away all the roots they dug, ten large basketfuls, then she and her daughter brought in wood enough to last till spring.
The old woman said: “Grandchildren, I want you to bring me gum from the cedar trees.” When they brought it, she covered her face with it and stopped up her eyes. Then she lay down with her head over the hole and didn’t go out of the house again all winter. Some mornings she woke[204]up and gave a handful of roots to the children. In the night, when the children were asleep, she ate plenty of roots herself.
One morning her daughter asked: “How is it that rats are always gnawing; why don’t you kill them?”
“I wish you wouldn’t listen to everything,” said the old woman.
One morning she said to the little girl: “I wish you wouldn’t cry in the night.”
The mother said: “You don’t give the children enough to eat; they are hungry.”
“You don’t know about the winter,” said the old woman. “It’s going to be long, and our roots won’t last: the snow will be deep yet.”
The children were hungry, but their mother said: “You mustn’t cry, it makes your grandmother worse.”
The boy said: “Let us kill her; she has no eyes.”
“If we tried to kill her, she would kill us; you are small and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from her.”
“What are you whispering about?” asked the grandmother.
“The children talk low becausetheyare weak; you are starving them to death.”
One morning old Lok asked: “Which way does the snow come?”
The boy looked out, and said: “It comes from the north.”
“That shows it will be good weather to-morrow.” She gave the children a few roots.
The next day the old woman said: “I wish I had some meat to eat.”
“Stop!” said her daughter. “Don’t talk like that.” She was afraid that her mother wanted to kill the children and eat them.
The next morning the grandmother asked: “How does the sky look?”
The little boy said: “There are clouds.”
“Where are the clouds?”
“They are around Omisna.”
“That means rain,” said the old woman. “It won’t be long till spring comes.” She took out plenty of roots[205]and pounded them for the children. (They were fooling her.)
The next day she sent the little girl to look at Mlaiksi.
The girl said: “Smoke is rising from the top of the mountain, as if someone had made a fire up there.”
The old woman was taking out a few roots, but she poured them back, and said: “There is going to be a great storm.”
The storm came. It put out their fire, and for four days old Lok didn’t move. Five days the children were without anything to eat; then she asked the little boy: “How does it look now?”
“It is raining.”
The old woman said: “If it rains, you can go and dig roots.”
The daughter cried and told her the children were starving. She gave them a few roots. The little boy said to his mother: “Why can’t we dig a hole near the roots and steal some of them?”
“I know what you are talking about,” said the old woman. “I know that it is winter yet.”
One morning she asked: “Is it spring?”
Her daughter said: “I don’t know,” and she told the children not to tell their grandmother anything about the weather. It rained and hailed. Every night the mother and children cried. Each morning they stamped on the ground to find out if it were soft. One day the mother went off, and when she came back she brought a few roots. The children were sitting out of doors, and she heard the old woman ask them: “Where is your mother?”
“She has gone for wood,” said the boy.
The mother put away some of the roots and gave the rest to the children.
The old woman asked: “Does it snow yet?”
The little boy said: “There is so much snow that I can’t see the tops of the trees.”
The grandmother put more gum on her eyes, rolled herself up tight, and lay still.
The mother made two pairs of straw moccasins, and the next morning started for roots. It was spring now, and she[206]found plenty for her children to eat. While she was gone, the old woman asked: “Which way is the wind?”
“From the southwest,” said the boy. His mother had told him to fool his grandmother, and let her lie there all summer. The mother could make the wind blow—the wind was her medicine. Every time she found a fly in the house, she killed it with a porcupine quill, so the old woman wouldn’t know it was spring.
There were a good many of the Lok people around the place where the mother dug roots; she left some roots for them to take care of, and said: “In two days I will come back and bring my children.”
When she got home, she made moccasins for the children, and in the morning, when she was ready to start, she said to her mother: “It snows. I am tired of packing wood; I am going to take the children to the woods and keep a fire there; you never stay by the fire.”
The mother worked all day and dug a great many roots; she had a big basketful to put away. She wondered where she could put them so the old woman couldn’t find them. Then she thought of Keŏnise, a hill where Lok didn’t go. It was a long way off, but she carried the roots there and hid them.
When the children didn’t come back, the grandmother scratched around in the ashes, found live coals and melted the gum out of her eyes; then she tracked her daughter.
As soon as the daughter knew that her mother was coming, she went to the house, took the roots out of the hole, and threw them around everywhere.
When the old woman came back, the daughter said: “We won’t be persons any longer. In later times people will kill and eat us.”
The old woman said: “It is better so.”
They wandered off to the mountains, and from that time only a male bear and female bear live together, and they never have more than two children.[207]