Produced by Al Haines









[Illustration: Cover]




[Frontispiece: Sîñ takes the Form of a Woodpecker  [_Page_ 316]]





  THE MYTHS OF THE
  NORTH AMERICAN
  INDIANS

  BY

  LEWIS SPENCE F.R.A.I.


  AUTHOR OF "THE MYTHS OF MEXICO AND PERU" "THE
  CIVILIZATION OF ANCIENT MEXICO" "A DICTIONARY
  OF MYTHOLOGY" ETC. ETC.



  WITH THIRTY-TWO PLATES IN COLOUR BY
  JAMES JACK AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS




  LONDON
  GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY
  2 & 3 PORTSMOUTH STREET KINGSWAY W.C.
  MCMXIV




PRINTED AT THE BALLANTYNE PRESS LONDON ENGLAND




UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME

_The illustrations, which are a feature of this series, are reproduced
for the most part from the finest works of past and living artists_


The Myths of Greece and Rome

By H. A. GUERBER.  With 64 Full-page Illustrations.  A classic volume.
At once a fascinating story-book and a valuable work of reference.


Myths of the Norsemen

From the Eddas and Sagas.  By H. A. GUERBER.  With 64 Full-page
Illustrations.


Myths and Legends of the Middle Ages

By H. A. GUERBER.  With 64 Full-page Illustrations.


Hero Myths and Legends of the British Race

By M. I. EBBUTT, M.A.  With 64 Original Full-page Illustrations.


Myths and Legends of the Celtic Race

By T. W. ROLLESTON.  With 64 Original Full-page Illustrations.


The Myths and Legends of Japan

By F. HADLAND DAVIS.  With 32 Plates in Colour by EVELYN PAUL.


The Myths of Mexico and Peru

By LEWIS SPENCE, F.R.A.I.  With 60 Full-page Plates and other
Illustrations.




{v}

PREFACE

The North American Indian has so long been an object of the deepest
interest that the neglect of his picturesque and original mythologies
and the tales to which they have given rise is difficult of
comprehension.  In boyhood we are wont to regard him as an instrument
specially designed for the execution of tumultuous incident, wherewith
heart-stirring fiction may be manufactured.  In manhood we are too apt
to consider him as only fit to be put aside with the matter of Faery
and such evanescent stuff and relegated to the limbo of imagination.
Satiated with his constant recurrence in the tales of our youth, we are
perhaps but too ready to hearken credulously to accounts which picture
him as a disreputable vagabond, getting a precarious living by petty
theft or the manufacture of bead ornaments.

It is, indeed, surprising how vague a picture the North American Indian
presents to the minds of most people in Europe when all that recent
anthropological research has done on the subject is taken into account.
As a matter of fact, few books have been published in England which
furnish more than the scantiest details concerning the Red Race, and
these are in general scarce, and, when obtained, of doubtful scientific
value.

The primary object of this volume is to furnish the reader with a
general view of the mythologies of the Red Man of North America,
accompanied by such historical and ethnological information as will
assist him in gauging the real conditions under which this most
interesting section of humanity existed.  The basic difference between
the Indian and European mental outlook is insisted upon, because it is
felt that no proper comprehension of American Indian myth or {vi}
conditions of life can be attained when such a distinction is not
recognized and allowed for.  The difference between the view-point,
mundane and spiritual, of the Red Man and that of the European is as
vast as that which separates the conceptions and philosophies of the
East and West.  Nevertheless we shall find in the North American
mythologies much that enters into the composition of the immortal tales
of the older religions of the Eastern Hemisphere.  All myth, Asiatic,
European, or American, springs from similar natural conceptions, and if
we discover in American mythology peculiarities which we do not observe
in the systems of Greece, Rome, or Egypt, we may be certain that these
arise from circumstances of environment and racial habit as modified by
climate and kindred conditions alone.

In the last thirty years much has been accomplished in placing the
study of the American aborigines on a sounder basis.  The older school
of ethnologists were for the most part obsessed with the wildest ideas
concerning the origin of the Indians, and many of them believed the Red
Man to be the degenerate descendant of the lost Ten Tribes of Israel or
of early Phoenician adventurers.  But these 'antiquaries' had perforce
to give way to a new school of students well equipped with scientific
knowledge, whose labours, under the admirable direction of the United
States Bureau of Ethnology, have borne rich fruit.  Many treatises of
the utmost value on the ethnology, mythology, and tribal customs of the
North American Indians have been issued by this conscientious and
enterprising State department.  These are written by men who possess
first-hand knowledge of Indian life and languages, many of whom have
faced great privations and hardships in order to collect the material
they have published.  The series is, indeed, a monument to that nobler
type of heroism which science {vii} can kindle in the breast of the
student, and the direct, unembellished verbiage of these volumes
conceals many a life-story which for quiet, unassuming bravery and
contempt for danger will match anything in the records of research and
human endurance.

LEWIS SPENCE

EDINBURGH: _March_ 1914




{ix}

CONTENTS


  CHAPTER

  I.  Divisions, Customs, and History of the Race
  II.  The Mythologies of the North American Indians
  III.  Algonquian Myths and Legends
  IV.  Iroquois Myths and Legends
  V.  Sioux Myths and Legends
  VI.  Myths and Legends of the Pawnees
  VII.  Myths And Legends of the Northern and North-western Indians
  Bibliography
  Glossary and Index




{xi}

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


Sîñ takes the Form of a Woodpecker  . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

On the Lakes

An Elderly Omaha Beau

An Earth-lodge

Omaha Woman's Costume

Adventure with a Totem

Indian Picture-writing: A Petroglyph in Nebraska

The Lenâpé come to the Place of Caves

"Glooskap brought all his magical resources to his aid"

"He descried a great _tepee_"

Algon carries the Captured Maiden Home to his Lodge

Moowis has melted in the Sun

"He rode down the wind"

"'Will you carry us over the river?' she asked"

"He poised his spear and struck the girdle"

"Gazing downward, she saw the camp of the Blackfeet"

The Pursuing Head

"He suddenly assumed the shape of a gigantic porcupine"

"'I see thee!  I see thee!  Thou shalt die'"

"He lit the pipe and placed it in the mouth of the skeleton"

"'Grow larger, my kettle!'"

"She sang a strange, sweet song"

"Soon the dancing commenced"

"He jumped so high that every bone in his body was shaken"

The War-chief kills the Monster Rattlesnake

"He leaned his shoulder against the rock"

"With one great step he reached the distant headland"

{xii}

"They arrived at the abode of the Water-god"

"He emerged in his own country"

"Everything happened as the Man of Wood had predicted"

"Once more the Rabbit entered, disguised as a man"

"He seized hold of the hair"

A Fishing Expedition in Shadowland

"The mists came down, and with them the Supernatural People"


MAP SHOWING THE LINGUISTIC STOCKS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS




{1}

CHAPTER I: DIVISIONS, CUSTOMS, AND HISTORY OF THE RACE


The First Indians in Europe

Almost immediately upon the discovery of the New World its inhabitants
became a source of the greatest interest to all ranks and classes among
the people of Europe.  That this should have been so is not a little
surprising when we remember the ignorance which prevailed regarding the
discovery of the new hemisphere, and that in the popular imagination
the people of the new-found lands were considered to be inhabitants of
those eastern countries which European navigation had striven so long
and so fruitlessly to reach.  The very name 'Indian' bestowed upon the
men from the islands of the far western ocean proves the ill-founded
nature and falsity of the new conditions which through the discovery of
Columbus were imposed upon the science of geography.  Why all this
intense and vivid interest in the strange beings whom the Genoese
commander carried back with him as specimens of the population of the
new-found isles?  The Spaniards were accustomed to the presence and
sight of Orientals.  They had for centuries dwelt side by side with a
nation of Eastern speech and origin, and the things of the East held
little of novelty for them.  Is it not possible that the people, by
reason of some natural motive difficult of comprehension, did not
credit in their hearts the scientific conclusions of the day?
Something deeper and more primitive than science was at work in their
minds, and some profound human instinct told them that the dusky and
befeathered folk they beheld in the triumphal procession of the
Discoverer were not the inhabitants of an Orient with which they were
more or less familiar, but {2} erstwhile dwellers in a mystic continent
which had been isolated from the rest of mankind for countless
centuries.

There are not wanting circumstances which go far to prove that
instinct, brushing aside the conclusions of science, felt that it had
rightly come upon the truth.  The motto on the arms granted to Columbus
is eloquent of the popular feeling when it states,

  To Castile and Leon
  Columbus gave a new world,

and the news was greeted in London with the pronouncement that it
seemed "a thing more divine than human"--a conclusion which could
scarcely have been arrived at if it was considered that the reaching of
the farthest Orient point alone had been achieved.

The primitive and barbarous appearance of the Indians in the train of
Columbus deeply impressed the people of Spain.  The savage had before
this event been merely "a legendary and heraldic animal like the
griffin and the phoenix."  In the person of the Indian he was presented
for the first time to the astonished gaze of a European people, who
were quick to distinguish the differences in feature and general
appearance between the Red Man and the civilized Oriental--although his
resemblance to the Tartar race was insisted upon by some early writers.

Popular interest, instead of abating, grew greater, and with each
American discovery the 'Indian' became the subject of renewed
controversy.  Works on the origin and customs of the American
aborigines, of ponderous erudition but doubtful conclusions, were
eagerly perused and discussed.  These were not any more extravagant,
however, than, many theories propounded at a much later date.  In the
early nineteenth century a school of enthusiastic antiquaries, perhaps
the most {3} distinguished of whom was Lord Kingsborough, determined
upon proving the identity of the American aborigines with the lost Ten
Tribes of Israel, and brought to bear upon the subject a perfect
battery of erudition of the most extraordinary kind.  His lordship's
great work on the subject, _The Antiquities of Mexico_, absorbed a
fortune of some fifty thousand pounds by its publication.  The most
absurd philological conclusions were arrived at in the course of these
researches, examples of which it would but weary the reader to peruse.
Only a shade less ridiculous were the deductions drawn from Indian
customs where these bore a certain surface resemblance to Hebrew rite
or priestly usage.



Indians as Jews

As an example of this species of argument it will be sufficient to
quote the following passage from a work published in 1879:[1]


[1] _The Migration from Shinar_, by Captain G. Palmer (London).


"The Indian high-priest wears a breastplate made of a white
conch-shell, and around his head either a wreath of swan feathers, or a
long piece of swan skin doubled, so as to show only the snowy feathers
on each side.  These remind us of the breastplate and mitre of the
Jewish high-priest.  They have also a magic stone which is transparent,
and which the medicine-men consult; it is most jealously guarded, even
from their own people, and Adair could never procure one.  Is this an
imitation of the Urim and Thummim?  Again, they have a feast of
first-fruits, which they celebrate with songs and dances, repeating
'Halelu-Halelu-Haleluiah' with great earnestness and fervour.  They
dance in three circles round the fire that cooks these fruits on a kind
of altar, shouting the praises of {4} Yo-He-Wah (Jehovah?).  These
words are only used in their religious festivals."

To what tribe the writer alludes is not manifest from the context.



Welsh-Speaking Indians

An ethnological connexion has been traced for the Red Man of North
America, with equal parade of erudition, to Phoenicians, Hittites, and
South Sea Islanders.  But one of the most amusing of these theories is
that which attempts to substantiate his blood-relationship with the
inhabitants of Wales!  The argument in favour of this theory is so
quaint, and is such a capital example of the kind of learning under
which American ethnology has groaned for generations, that it may be
briefly examined.  In the author's _Myths of Mexico and Peru_ (p. 5) a
short account is given of the legend of Madoc, son of Owen Gwyneth, a
Welsh prince, who quitted his country in disgust at the manner in which
his brothers had partitioned their father's territories.  Sailing due
west with several vessels, he arrived, says Sir Thomas Herbert in his
_Travels_ (1634), at the Gulf of Mexico, "not far from Florida," in the
year 1170.  After settling there he returned to Wales for
reinforcements, and once more fared toward the dim West, never to be
heard of more.  But, says the chronicler, "though the Cambrian issue in
the new found world may seeme extinct, the Language to this day used
among these Canibals, together with their adoring the crosse, using
Beades, Reliques of holy men and some other, noted in them of Acusano
and other places, ... points at our Madoc's former being there."  The
Cambrians, continued Sir Thomas, left in their American colony many
names of "Birds, Rivers, Rocks, Beasts and the like, {5} some of which
words are these: _Gwrando_, signifying in the Cambrian speech to give
eare unto or hearken.  _Pen-gwyn_, with us a white head, refered by the
Mexicans to a Bird so-called, and Rockes complying with that Idiom.
Some promontories had like denominations, called so by the people to
this day, tho' estranged and concealed by the Spaniard.  Such are the
Isles _Corroeso_.  The Cape of _Brutaine_ or _Brittaine_.  The floud
_Gwyndowr_ or white water, _Bara_ bread, _Mam_ mother, _Tate_ father,
_Dowr_ water, _Bryd_ time, _Bu_ or _Buch_ a Cow, _Clugar_ a Heathcocke,
_Llwynog_ a Fox, _Wy_ an Egge, _Calaf_ a Quill, _Trwyn_ a Nose, _Nef_
Heaven; and the like then used; by which, in my conceit, none save
detracting Opinionatists can justly oppose such worthy testimonies and
proofes of what I wish were generally allowed of."



Antiquity of Man in America

To turn to more substantial conclusions concerning the racial
affinities of the Red Man, we find that it is only within very recent
times that anything like a reasoned scientific argument has been
arrived at.  Founding upon recently acquired geological,
anthropological, and linguistic knowledge, inquirers into the deeper
realms of American ethnology have solved the question of how the
Western Hemisphere was peopled, and the arguments they adduce are so
convincing in their nature as to leave no doubt in the minds of
unbiased persons.

It is now admitted that the presence of man in the Old World dates from
an epoch so far distant as to be calculated only by reference to
geological periods of which we know the succession but not the
duration, and research has proved that the same holds good of the
Western Hemisphere.  Although man undoubtedly found his way from the
Old World to the {6} New, the period at which he did so is so remote
that for all practical purposes he may be said to have peopled both
hemispheres simultaneously.  Indeed, "his relative antiquity in each
has no bearing on the history of his advancement."

It is known that the American continent offers no example of the highly
organized primates--for example, the larger apes--in which the Old
World abounds, save man himself, and this circumstance is sufficient to
prove that the human species must have reached America as strangers.
Had man been native to the New World there would have been found side
by side with him either existing or fossil representatives of the
greater apes and other anthropoid animals which illustrate his pedigree
in the Old World.



The Great Miocene Bridge

Again, many careful observers have noticed the striking resemblance
between the natives of America and Northern Asia.  At Bering Strait the
Old World and the New are separated by a narrow sea-passage only, and
an elevation of the sea-bed of less than two hundred feet would provide
a 'land-bridge' at least thirty miles in breadth between the two
continents.  It is a geological fact that Bering Strait has been formed
since the Tertiary period, and that such a 'land-bridge' once existed,
to which American geologists have given the name of 'the Miocene
bridge.'  By this 'bridge,' it is believed, man crossed from Asia to
America, and its subsequent disappearance confined him to the Western
Hemisphere.



American Man in Glacial Times

That this migration occurred before the Glacial period is proved by the
circumstance that chipped {7} flints and other implements have been
discovered in ice-drift at points in Ohio, Indiana, and Minnesota, to
which it is known that the southern margin of the ice-sheet extended.
This proves that man was driven southward by the advancing ice, as were
several Old World animal species which had migrated to America.
However, it is difficult in many cases to accept what may seem to be
evidence of the presence of prehistoric man in North America with any
degree of confidence, and it will be well to confine ourselves to the
most authentic instances.  In the loess of the Mississippi at Natchez
Dr. Dickson found side by side with the remains of the mylodon and
megalonyx human bones blackened by time.  But Sir Charles Lyell pointed
out that these remains might have been carried by the action of water
from the numerous Indian places of burial in the neighbourhood.  In New
Orleans, while trenches were being dug for gas-pipes, a skeleton was
discovered sixteen feet from the surface, the skull of which was
embedded beneath a gigantic cypress-tree.  But the deposit in which the
remains were found was subsequently stated to be of recent origin.  A
reed mat was discovered at Petit Anse, Louisiana, at a depth of from
fifteen to twenty feet, among a deposit of salt near the tusks or bones
of an elephant.  In the bottom-lands of the Bourbeuse River, in
Missouri, Dr. Koch discovered the remains of a mastodon.  It had sunk
in the mud of the marshes, and, borne down by its own ponderous bulk,
had been unable to right itself.  Espied by the hunters of that dim
era, it had been attacked by them, and the signs of their onset--flint
arrow-heads and pieces of rock--were found mingled with its bones.
Unable to dispatch it with their comparatively puny weapons, they had
built great fires round it, the cinder-heaps of which remain to the {8}
height of six feet, and by this means they had presumably succeeded in
suffocating it.

In Iowa and Nebraska Dr. Aughey found many evidences of the presence of
early man in stone weapons mingled with the bones of the mastodon.  In
California, Colorado, and Wyoming scores of stone mortars, arrow-heads,
and lance-points have been discovered in deposits which show no sign of
displacement.  Traces of ancient mining operations are also met with in
California and the Lake Superior district, the skeletons of the
primitive miners being found, stone hammer in hand, beneath the masses
of rock which buried them in their fall.  As the object of these
searchers was evidently metal of some description, it may reasonably be
inferred that the remains are of comparatively late date.



The Calaveras Skull

In 1866 Professor J. D. Whitney discovered the famous 'Calaveras' skull
at a depth of about a hundred and thirty feet in a bed of auriferous
gravel on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada, California.  The
skull rested on a bed of lava, and was covered by several layers of
lava and volcanic deposit.  Many other remains were found in similar
geological positions, and this was thought to prove that the Calaveras
skull was not an isolated instance of the presence of man in America in
Tertiary times.  The skull resembles the Eskimo type, and chemical
analysis discovered the presence of organic matter.  These
circumstances led to the conclusion that the great age claimed by
Whitney for the relic was by no means proved, and this view was
strengthened by the knowledge that displacements of the deposits in
which it had been discovered had frequently been caused by volcanic
agency.


{9}

More Recent Finds

More recent finds have been summarized by an eminent authority
connected with the United States Bureau of Ethnology as follows: "In a
post-Glacial terrace on the south shore of Lake Ontario the remains of
a hearth were discovered at a depth of twenty-two feet by Mr. Tomlinson
in digging a well, apparently indicating early aboriginal occupancy of
the St. Lawrence basin.  From the Glacial or immediately post-Glacial
deposits of Ohio a number of articles of human workmanship have been
reported: a grooved axe from a well twenty-two feet beneath the
surface, near New London; a chipped object of waster type at
Newcomerstown, at a depth of sixteen feet in Glacial gravel; chipped
stones in gravels, one at Madisonville at a depth of eight feet, and
another at Loveland at a depth of thirty feet.  At Little Falls, Minn.,
flood-plain, deposits of sand and gravel are found to contain many
artificial objects of quartz.  This flood-plain is believed by some to
have been finally abandoned by the Mississippi well back toward the
close of the Glacial period in the valley, but that these finds warrant
definite conclusions as to time is seriously questioned by Chamberlain.
In a Missouri river-beach near Lansing, Kansas, portions of a human
skeleton were recently found at a depth of twenty feet, but geologists
are not agreed as to the age of the formation.  At Clayton, Mo., in a
deposit believed to belong to the loess, at a depth of fourteen feet, a
well-finished grooved axe was found.  In the Basin Range region,
between the Rocky Mountains and the sierras, two discoveries that seem
to bear on the antiquity of human occupancy have been reported: in a
silt deposit in Walker River Valley, Nevada, believed to be {10} of
Glacial age, an obsidian implement was obtained at a depth of
twenty-five feet; at Nampa, Idaho, a clay image is reported to have
been brought up by a sand-pump from a depth of three hundred and twenty
feet in alternating beds of clay and quicksand underlying a lava flow
of late Tertiary or early Glacial age.  Questions are raised by a
number of geologists respecting the value of these finds."



Later Man in America

Whatever doubt attaches to the presence of man in America during the
Tertiary period--a doubt which is not shared by most American
archæologists--there is none regarding his occupation of the entire
continent in times less remote, yet far distant from the dawn of the
earliest historical records of Asia or Europe.  In caves and
'kitchen-middens' or rubbish-heaps over the entire length and breadth
of the American continent numerous evidences of the presence of
populous centres have been discovered.  Mingled with the shells of
molluscs and the bones of extinct animals human remains, weapons, and
implements are to be found, with traces of fire, which prove that the
men of those early days had risen above the merely animal existence led
by the first-comers to American soil.



Affinities with Siberian Peoples

As has already been indicated, careful observers have repeatedly
remarked upon the strong likeness between the American races and those
of North-eastern Asia.  This likeness is not only physical, but extends
to custom, and to some extent to religious belief.

"The war-dances and medicine customs of the Ostiaks resemble those of
the Kolusches even to the {11} smallest details, and the myth of a
heaven-climber, who ascends the sky from a lofty tree, lowering himself
again to earth by a strip of leather, a rope of grass, a plait of hair,
or the curling wreath of smoke from a hut, occurs not only among the
Ugrian tribes, but among the Dogrib Indians.  Such myths, it is
contended, though insufficient to prove common descent, point to early
communications between these distant stocks.  Superstitious usages, on
the other hand, it is argued, are scarcely likely to have been adopted
in consequence of mere intercourse, and indicate a common origin.
Thus, among the Itelmians of Kamchatka it is forbidden to carry a
burning brand otherwise than in the fingers; it must on no account be
pierced for that purpose with the point of a knife.  A similar
superstition is cherished by the Dakota.  Again, when the tribes of
Hudson Bay slay a bear they daub the head with gay colours, and sing
around it hymns having a religious character; it is understood to
symbolize the spirit of the deceased animal.  A similar practice, it is
said, prevails throughout Siberia, and is met with among the Gilyaks of
the Amur, and the Ainu.  The Ostiaks hang the skin of a bear on a tree,
pay it the profoundest respect, and address it while imploring pardon
of the spirit of the animal for having put it to death; their usual
oath, moreover, is 'by the bear,' as the polished Athenians habitually
swore 'by the dog.'  Earthen vessels, it is further urged, were
manufactured not only by the Itelmians, but by the Aleutians and the
Kolusches of the New World; whereas the Assiniboins, settled farther to
the southward, cooked their flesh in kettles of hide, into which
red-hot stones were cast to heat the water."[2]


[2] Payne, _History of the New World_, ii. 87-88, summarizing the
investigations of Peschel and Tylor.


{12}

The Evidence of American Languages

The structure of the aboriginal languages of America corroborates the
conclusion that the American race proceeded from one instead of several
sources, and that it is an ethnological extension of North-eastern
Asia.  Not only does the 'machinery' of American speech closely
resemble that of the neighbouring Asiatic races in the possession of a
common basis of phonesis and strenuity, but the rejection of labial
explodents, which extends from Northern Asia through the speech of the
Aleutian Islands to North-western America, is good evidence of affinity.



Evidences of Asiatic Intercourse

Evidences of Asiatic intercourse with America in recent and historical
times are not wanting.  It is a well-authenticated fact that the
Russians had learned from the native Siberians of the whereabouts of
America long before the discovery of the contiguity of the continents
by Bering.  Charlevoix, in his work on the origin of the Indians,
states that Père Grellon, one of the French Jesuit Fathers, encountered
a Huron woman on the plains of Tartary who had been sold from tribe to
tribe until she had passed from Bering Strait into Central Asia.
Slight though such incidents seem, it is by means of them that
important truths may be gleaned.  If one individual was exchanged in
this manner, there were probably many similar cases.

[Illustration: On the Lakes]

Later Migrations

There are theories in existence worthy of respect which would regard
the North American Indians as the last and recent wave of many Asiatic
migrations to {13} American soil.  If credence can be extended to the
Norse sagas which describe the visits of tenth-century Scandinavian
voyagers to the eastern coasts of America, the accounts given of the
race encountered by these early discoverers by no means tally with any
possible description of the Red Man.  The viking seafarers nicknamed
the American natives _Skrælingr_, or 'Chips,' because of their puny
appearance, and the account which they gave of them would seem to class
them as a folk possessing Eskimo affinities.  Many remains discovered
in the eastern States are of the Eskimo type, and when one combines
with this the Indian traditions of a great migration--traditions which
cannot have survived for many generations--it will be seen that the
exact epoch of the entrance of the Red Man into America is by no means
finally settled.



The Norsemen in America

As the visits of the Norsemen to America during the tenth century have
been alluded to, perhaps some further reference to this absorbing
subject may be made, as it is undoubtedly germane to the question of
the identity of the pre-Indian inhabitants of eastern North America.
The Scandinavian colonization of Iceland tempted the intrepid viking
race to extend their voyages into still more northerly waters, and this
resulted in the discovery of Greenland.  Once settled upon those dreary
beaches, it was practically inevitable that the hardy seamen would
speedily discover American soil.  Biarne Herjulfson, sailing from
Iceland to Greenland without knowledge of the waters he navigated, was
caught in dense fog and shifting wind, so that he knew not in what
direction he sailed.  "Witless, methinks, is our forth-faring," laughed
the stout Norseman, "seeing that none of us has beheld {14} the
Greenland sea."  Holding doggedly on, however, the adventurers came at
last in sight of land.  But this was no country of lofty ice such as
they had been told to expect.  A land of gentle undulations covered
with timber met their sea-sad eyes.  Bearing away, they came to another
land like the first.  The wind fell, and the sailors proposed to
disembark.  But Biarne refused.  Five days afterward they made
Greenland.  Biarne had, of course, got into that Arctic current which
sets southward from the Polar Circle between Iceland and Greenland, and
had been carried to the coasts of New England.[3]


[3] Rafn, _Antiquitates Americana_, xxix. 17-25.



Leif the Lucky

Biarne did not care to pursue his discoveries, but at the court of
Eric, Earl of Norway, to which he paid a visit, his neglect in
following them up was much talked about.  All Greenland, too, was agog
with the news.  Leif, surnamed 'the Lucky,' son of Eric the Red, the
first colonizer of Greenland, purchased Biarne's ship, and, hiring a
crew of thirty-five men, one of whom was a German named Tyrker (perhaps
Tydsker, the Norse for 'German'), set sail for the land seen by Biarne.
He soon espied it, and cast anchor, but it was a barren place; so they
called it Hellu-land, or 'Land of Flat Stones,' and, leaving it, sailed
southward again.  Soon they came to another country, which they called
Markland, or 'Wood-land,' for it was low and flat and well covered with
trees.  These shores also they left, and again put to sea.



The Land of Wine

After sailing still farther south they came to a strait lying between
an island and a promontory.  Here they {15} landed and built huts.  The
air was warm after the sword-like winds of Greenland, and when the day
was shortest the sun was above the horizon from half-past seven in the
morning until half-past four in the afternoon.  They divided into two
bands to explore the land.  One day Tyrker, the German, was missing.
They searched for him, and found him at no great distance from the
camp, in a state of much excitement.  For he had discovered vines with
grapes upon them--a boon to a man coming from a land of vines, who had
beheld none for half a lifetime.  They loaded the ship's boat with the
grapes and felled timber to freight the ship, and in the spring sailed
away from the new-found country, which they named 'Wine-land.'

It would seem that the name Hellu-land was applied to Newfoundland or
Labrador, Mark-land to Nova Scotia, and Wine-land to New England, and
that Leif wintered in some part of the state of Rhode Island.



The Skrælingr

In the year 1002 Leif's brother Thorwald sailed to the new land in
Biarne's ship.  From the place where Leif had landed, which the
Norsemen named 'Leif's Booths' (or huts), he explored the country
southward and northward.  But at a promontory in the neighbourhood of
Boston he was attacked and slain by the Skrælingr who inhabited the
country.  These men are described as small and dwarfish in appearance
and as possessing Eskimo characteristics.  In 1007 a bold attempt was
made to colonize the country from Greenland.  Three ships, with a
hundred and sixty men aboard, sailed to Wine-land, where they wintered,
but the incessant attacks of the Skrælingr rendered colonization
impossible, and the Norsemen took their departure.  The extinction of
the Scandinavian colonies {16} in Greenland put an end to all
communication with America.  But the last voyage from Greenland to
American shores took place in 1347, only a hundred and forty-five years
before Columbus discovered the West Indian Islands.  In 1418 the
Skrælingr of Greenland--the Eskimo--attacked and destroyed the Norse
settlements there, and carried away the colonists into captivity.  It
is perhaps the descendants of these Norse folk who dared the world of
ice and the ravening breakers of the Arctic sea who have been
discovered by a recent Arctic explorer![4]


[4] See _Eric Rothens Saga_, in Mueller, _Sagenbibliothek_, p. 214.


The authenticity of the Norse discoveries is not to be questioned.  No
less than seventeen ancient Icelandic documents allude to them, and
Adam of Bremen mentions the territory discovered by them as if
referring to a widely known country.



The Dighton Rock

A rock covered with inscriptions, known as the Dighton Writing Rock,
situated on the banks of the Taunton River, in Massachusetts, was long
pointed out as of Norse origin, and Rafn, the Danish antiquary,
pronounced the script which it bore to be runic.  With equal
perspicacity Court de Gébelin and Dr. Styles saw in it a Phoenician
inscription.  It is, in fact, quite certain that the writing is of
Indian origin, as similar rock-carvings occur over the length and
breadth of the northern sub-continent.  Almost as doubtful are the
theories which would make the 'old mill' at Newport a Norse 'biggin.'
However authentic the Norse settlements in America may be, it is
certain that the Norsemen left no traces of their occupation in that
continent, and although the building at Newport distinctly resembles
the remains of Norse architecture in {17} Greenland, the district in
which it is situated is quite out of the sphere of Norse settlement in
North America.



The Mound-Builders

The question of the antiquity of the Red Race in North America is bound
up with an archæological problem which bristles with difficulties, but
is quite as replete with interest.  In the Mississippi basin and the
Gulf States, chiefly from La Crosse, Wisconsin, to Natchez, Miss., and
in the central and southern districts of Ohio, and in the adjoining
portion of Indiana and South Wisconsin, are found great earthen mounds,
the typical form of which is pyramidal.  Some, however, are circular,
and a few pentagonal.  Others are terraced, extending outward from one
or two sides, while some have roadways leading up to the level surface
on the summit.  These are not mere accumulations of _débris_, but works
constructed on a definite plan, and obviously requiring a considerable
amount of skill and labour for their accomplishment.  "The form, except
where worn down by the plough, is usually that of a low, broad,
round-topped cone, varying in size from a scarcely perceptible swell in
the ground to elevations of eighty or even a hundred feet, and from six
to three hundred feet in diameter."[5]


[5] _Bulletin 30_, Bureau of American Ethnology.



Mounds in Animal Form

Many of these structures represent animal forms, probably the totem or
eponymous ancestor of the tribe which reared them.  The chief centre
for these singular erections seems to have been Wisconsin, where they
are very numerous.  The eagle, wolf, bear, turtle, and fox are
represented, and even the human form has been {18} attempted.  There
are birds with outstretched wings, measuring more than thirty-two yards
from tip to tip, and great mammalian forms sixty-five yards long.
Reptilian forms are also numerous.  These chiefly represent huge
lizards.  At least one mound in the form of a spider, whose body and
legs cover an acre of ground, exists in Minnesota.

According to the classification of Squier, these structures were
employed for burial, sacrifice, and observation, and as temple-sites.
Other structures often found in connexion with them are obviously
enclosures, and were probably used for defence.  The conical mounds are
usually built of earth and stones, and are for the most part places of
sepulture.  The flat-topped structures were probably employed as sites
for buildings, such as temples, council-houses, and chiefs' dwellings.
Burials were rarely made in the wall-like enclosures or effigy mounds.
Many of the enclosures are of true geometrical figure, circular,
square, or octagonal, and with few exceptions these are found in Ohio
and the adjoining portions of Kentucky, Indiana, and West Virginia.
They enclose an expanse varying from one to a hundred acres.



What the Mounds Contain

In the sepulchral mounds a large number of objects have been found
which throw some light on the habits of the folk who built them.
Copper plates with stamped designs are frequent, and these are
difficult to account for.  In one mound were found no less than six
hundred stone hatchet-blades, averaging seven inches long by four wide.
Under another were exhumed two hundred calcined tobacco-pipes, and
copper ornaments with a thin plating of silver; while from others were
taken fragments of pottery, obsidian implements, ivory {19} and bone
needles, and scroll-work cut out of very thin plates of mica.  In
several it was observed that cremation had been practised, but in
others the bodies were found extended horizontally or else doubled up.
In some instances the ashes of the dead had been placed carefully in
skulls, perhaps those of the individuals whose bodies had been given to
the flames.  Implements, too, are numerous, and axes, awls, and other
tools of copper have frequently been discovered.



The Tomb of the Black Tortoise

A more detailed description of one of these groups of sepulchral mounds
may furnish the reader with a clearer idea of the structures as a
whole.  The group in question was discovered in Minnesota, on the
northern bank of St. Peter's River, about sixty miles from its junction
with the Mississippi.  It includes twenty-six mounds, placed at regular
distances from each other, and forming together a large rectangle.  The
central mound represents a turtle forty feet long by twenty-seven feet
wide and twelve feet high.  It is almost entirely constructed of yellow
clay, which is not found in the district, and therefore must have been
brought from a distance.  Two mounds of red earth of triangular form
flank it north and south, and each of these is twenty-seven feet long
by about six feet wide at one end, the opposite end tapering off until
it scarcely rises above the level of the soil.  At each corner rises a
circular mound twelve feet high by twenty-five feet in diameter.  East
and west of the structure stand two elongated mounds sixty feet long,
with a diameter of twelve feet.  Two smaller mounds on the right and
left of the turtle-shaped mound are each twelve feet long by four feet
high, and consist of white sand mixed with numerous fragments of mica,
covered with {20} a layer of clay and a second one of vegetable mould.
Lastly, thirteen smaller mounds fill in the intervals in the group.

Conant gives an explanation of the whole group as follows: "The
principal tomb would be the last home of a great chief, the Black
Tortoise.  The four mounds which form the corners of the quadrangle
were also erected as a sign of the mourning of the tribe.  The
secondary mounds are the tombs of other chiefs, and the little mounds
erected in the north and south corresponded with the number of bodies
which had been deposited in them.  The two pointed mounds indicate that
the Black Tortoise was the last of his race, and the two large mounds
the importance of that race and the dignity which had belonged to it.
Lastly, the two mounds to the right and left of the royal tomb mark the
burial-places of the prophets or soothsayers, who even to our own day
play a great part among the Indian tribes.  The fragments of mica found
in their tombs would indicate their rank."[6]


[6] _Footprints of Vanished Races_, p. 18.



Who were the Mound-Builders?

It is not probable that the reader will agree with all the conclusions
drawn in the paragraph quoted above, which would claim for these
structures a hieroglyphic as well as a sepulchral significance.  But
such speculations cannot destroy the inherent interest of the subject,
however much they may irritate those who desire to arrive at logical
conclusions concerning it.  Who then were the folk who raised the
mounds of Ohio and the Mississippi and spread their culture from the
Gulf states region to the Great Lakes?  Needless to say, the
'antiquaries' of the last century stoutly maintained that they were
strangers from over the sea, {21} sun- and serpent-worshippers who had
forsaken the cities of Egypt, Persia, and Phoenicia, and had settled in
the West in order to pursue their strange religions undisturbed.  But
such a view by no means commends itself to modern science, which sees
in the architects of these mounds and pyramids the ancestors of the
present aborigines of North America.  Many of the objects discovered in
the mounds are of European manufacture, or prove contact with
Europeans, which shows that the structures containing them are of
comparatively modern origin.  The articles discovered and the character
of the various monuments indicate a culture stage similar to that noted
among the more advanced tribes inhabiting the regions where the mounds
occur at the period of the advent of the whites.  Moreover, the
statements of early writers on these regions, such as the members of De
Soto's expedition, prove beyond question that some of the structures
were erected by the Indians in post-Columbian times.  "It is known that
some of the tribes inhabiting the Gulf states, when De Soto passed
through their territory in 1540-41, as the Yuchi, Creeks, Chickasaw,
and Natchez, were still using and probably constructing mounds, and
that the Quapaw of Arkansas were also using them.  There is also
documentary evidence that the 'Texas' tribe still used mounds at the
end of the seventeenth century, when a chief's house is described as
being built on one.  There is also sufficient evidence to justify the
conclusion that the Cherokee and Shawnee were mound-builders....
According to Miss Fletcher, the Winnebago build miniature mounds in the
lodge during certain ceremonies."[7]


[7] _Bulletin 30_, Bureau of American Ethnology.


Nothing has been found in the mounds to indicate {22} great antiquity,
and the present tendency among archæologists is to assign to them a
comparatively recent origin.



The 'Nations' of North America

In order that the reader may be enabled the better to comprehend the
history and customs of the Red Race in North America, it will be well
at this juncture to classify the various ethnic stocks of which it is
composed.  Proceeding to do so on a linguistic basis--the only possible
guide in this instance--we find that students of American languages,
despite the diversity of tongues exhibited in North America, have
referred all of these to ten or a dozen primitive stems.[8]  Let us
first examine the geographical position of the 'nations' of the
American aborigines in the sixteenth century, at the period of the
advent of the white man, whilst yet they occupied their ancestral
territory.


[8] See the map, p. 361.


The Athapascan stock extended in a broad band across the continent from
the Pacific to Hudson Bay, and almost to the Great Lakes below.  Tribes
cognate to it wandered far north to the mouth of the Mackenzie River,
and, southward, skirted the Rockies and the coast of Oregon south of
the estuary of the Columbia River, and spreading over the plains of New
Mexico, as Apaches, Navahos, and Lipans, extended almost to the
tropics.  The Athapascan is the most widely distributed of all the
Indian linguistic stocks of North America, and covered a territory of
more than forty degrees of latitude and seventy-five degrees of
longitude.  Its northern division was known as the Tinneh or Déné, and
consisted of three groups--eastern, north-western, and south-western,
dwelling near the Rockies, in the interior of Alaska, and in the
mountain fastnesses of British America respectively.

{23} The Pacific division occupied many villages in a strip of
territory about four hundred miles in length from Oregon to Eel River
in California.  The southern division occupied a large part of Arizona
and New Mexico, the southern portion of Utah and Colorado, the western
borders of Kansas, and the northern part of Mexico to lat. 25°.  The
social conditions and customs as well as the various dialects spoken by
the several branches and offshoots of this great family differed
considerably according to climate and environment.  Extremely
adaptable, the Athapascan stock appear to have adopted many of the
customs and ceremonies of such tribes as they were brought into contact
with, and do not seem to have had any impetus to frame a culture of
their own.  Their tribes had little cohesion, and were subdivided into
family groups or loose bands, which recognized a sort of patriarchal
government and descent.  Their food-supply was for the most part
precarious, as it consisted almost entirely of the proceeds of hunting
expeditions, and the desperate and never-ending search for provender
rendered this people somewhat narrow and material in outlook.



The Iroquois

The Iroquois--Hurons, Tuscaroras, Susquehannocks, Nottoways, and
others--occupied much of the country from the St. Lawrence River and
Lake Ontario to the Roanoke.  Several of their tribes banded themselves
into a confederacy known as the 'Five Nations,' and these comprised the
Cayugas, Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, and Senecas.  The Cherokees,
dwelling in the valleys of East Tennessee, appear to have been one of
the early offshoots of the Iroquois.  A race of born warriors, they
pursued their craft with an excess of cruelty which made them the
terror of the white settler.  It was with the {24} Iroquois that most
of the early colonial wars were waged, and their name, which they
borrowed from the Algonquins, and which signifies 'Real Adders,' was
probably no misnomer.  They possessed chiefs who, strangely enough,
were nominated by the matrons of the tribe, whose decision was
confirmed by the tribal and federal councils.  The 'Five Nations' of
the Iroquois made up the Iroquois Confederacy, which was created about
the year 1570, as the last of a series of attempts to unite the tribes
in question.  The Mohawks, so conspicuous in colonial history, are one
of their sub-tribes.  Many of the Iroquoian tribes "have been settled
by the Canadian Government on a reservation on Grand River, Ontario,
where they still reside....  All the Iroquois [in the United States]
are in reservations in New York, with the exception of the Oneida, who
are settled in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  The so-called Seneca, of
Oklahoma, are composed of the remnants of many tribes ... and of
emigrants from all the tribes of the Iroquoian Confederation."  In 1689
the Iroquois were estimated to number about twelve thousand, whereas in
1904 they numbered over sixteen thousand.



The Algonquins

The Algonquian[9] family surrounded the Iroquois on every side, and
extended westward toward the Rocky Mountains, where one of their famous
offshoots, the Blackfeet, gained a notoriety which has rendered them
the heroes of many a boyish tale.  They were milder than the Iroquois,
and less Spartan in habits.  Their {25} western division comprised the
Blackfeet, Arapaho, and Cheyenne, situated near the eastern slope of
the Rocky Mountains; the northern division, situated for the most part
to the north of the St. Lawrence, comprised the Chippeways and Crees;
the north-eastern division embraced the tribes inhabiting Quebec, the
Maritime Provinces, and Maine, including the Montagnais and Micmacs;
the central division, dwelling in Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana,
Michigan, and Ohio, included the Foxes, Kickapoos, Menominees, and
others; and the eastern division embraced all the Algonquian tribes
that dwelt along the Atlantic coast, the Abnaki, Narragansets, Nipmucs,
Mohicans (or Mohegans), Shawnees, Delawares, and Powhatans.


[9] This name has been adopted to distinguish the _family_ from the
tribal name, 'Algonquin' or 'Algonkin,' but is not employed when
speaking of individuals.  Thus we speak of 'the Algonquian race,' but,
on the other hand, of 'an Algonquin Indian.'


The Algonquins were the first Indians to come into contact with the
white man.  As a rule their relations with the French were friendly,
but they were frequently at war with the English settlers.  The eastern
branch of the race were quickly defeated and scattered, their remnants
withdrawing to Canada and the Ohio valley.  Of the smaller tribes of
New England, Virginia, and other eastern states there are no living
representatives, and even their languages are extinct, save for a few
words and place-names.  The Ohio valley tribes, with the Wyandots,
formed themselves into a loose confederacy and attempted to preserve
the Ohio as an Indian boundary; but in 1794 they were finally defeated
and forced to cede their territory.  Tecumseh, an Algonquin chief,
carried on a fierce war against the United States for a number of
years, but by his defeat and death at Tippecanoe in 1811 the spirit of
the Indians was broken, and the year 1815 saw the commencement of a
series of Indian migrations westward, and a wholesale cession of Indian
territory which continued over a period of about thirty years.



{26}

A Sedentary People

The Algonquins had been for generations the victims of the Iroquois
Confederacy, and only when the French had guaranteed them immunity from
the attacks of their hereditary enemies did they set their faces to the
east once more, to court repulse a second time at the hands of the
English settlers.  Tall and finely proportioned, the Algonquins were
mainly a sedentary and agricultural people, growing maize and wild rice
for their staple foods.  Indeed, more than once were the colonists of
New England saved from famine by these industrious folk.  In 1792
Wayne's army found a continuous plantation along the entire length of
the Maumee River from Fort Wayne to Lake Erie, and such evidence
entirely shatters the popular fallacy that the Indian race were
altogether lacking in the virtues of industry and domesticity.  They
employed fish-shells and ashes as fertilizers, and made use of spades
and hoes.  And it was the Algonquins who first instilled in the white
settlers the knowledge of how to prepare those succulent dainties for
which New England is famous--hominy, succotash, maple-sugar, and
johnny-cake.  They possessed the art of tanning deerskin to a delicate
softness which rendered it a luxurious and delightful raiment, and,
like the Aztecs, they manufactured mantles of feather-work.  They had
also elaborated a system of picture-writing.  In short, they were the
most intelligent and advanced of the eastern tribes, and had their
civilization been permitted to proceed unhindered by white aggression
and the recurring inroads of their hereditary enemies, the Iroquois, it
would probably have evolved into something resembling that of the Nahua
of Mexico, without, perhaps, exhibiting the sanguinary fanaticism of
that people.  The great weakness of the Algonquian {27} stock was a
lack of solidity of character, which prevented them from achieving a
degree of tribal organization and cohesion sufficient to enable them to
withstand their foes.



The Muskhogean Race

The Muskhogean race included the Choctaws, Chickasaws, Creeks, and
Seminoles, who occupied territory in the Gulf states east of the
Mississippi, possessing almost all of Mississippi and Alabama, and
portions of Tennessee, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina.  Many
early notices of this people are extant.  They were met by Narvaez in
Florida in 1528, and De Soto passed through their territory in 1540-41.
By 1700 the entire Apalachee tribe had been civilized and
Christianized, and had settled in seven large and well-built towns.
But the tide of white settlement gradually pressed the Muskhogean
tribes backward from the coast region, and though they fought stoutly
to retain their patrimony, few of the race remain in their native area,
the majority having been removed to the tribal reservation in Oklahoma
before 1840.  They were an agricultural and sedentary people, occupying
villages of substantially built dwellings.  A curious diversity, both
physical and mental, existed among the several tribes of which the race
was composed.  They possessed a general council formed of
representatives from each town, who met annually or as occasion
required.  Artificial deformation of the skull was practised by nearly
all of the Muskhogean tribes, chiefly by the Choctaws, who were called
by the settlers 'Flatheads.'  The Muskhogean population at the period
of its first contact with the whites has been estimated at some fifty
thousand souls.  In 1905 they numbered rather more, but this estimate
included about fifteen thousand freedmen of negro blood.



{28}

The Sioux

The Siouan or Dakota stock--Santees, Yanktons, Assiniboins, and
Tetons--inhabited a territory extending from Saskatchewan to Louisiana.
They are the highest type, physically, mentally, and morally, of any or
the western tribes, and their courage is unquestioned.  They dwelt in
large bands or groups.  "Personal fitness and popularity determined
chieftainship....  The authority of the chief was limited by the band
council, without whose approbation little or nothing could be
accomplished.  War parties were recruited by individuals who had
acquired reputation as successful leaders, while the _shamans_
formulated ceremonials and farewells for them.  Polygamy was common....
Remains of the dead were usually, though not invariably, placed on
scaffolds."[10]


[10] _Bulletin 30_, Bureau of American Ethnology.


[Illustration: An Elderly Omaha Beau.  By permission of the Bureau of
American Ethnology]


Caddoan Family

The Caddoan family comprises three geographic groups, the northern,
represented by the Arikara, the middle, embracing the Pawnee
Confederacy, once dwelling in Nebraska, and the southern group,
including the Caddo, Kichai, and Wichita.  Once numerous, this division
of the Red Race is now represented by a few hundreds of individuals
only, who are settled in Oklahoma and North Dakota.  The Caddo tribes
were cultivators of the soil as well as hunters, and practised the arts
of pottery-making and tanning.  They lacked political ability and were
loosely confederated.



The Shoshoneans

The Shoshoneans or 'Snake' family of Nevada, Utah, and Idaho comprise
the Root-diggers, Comanches, and {29} other tribes of low culture.
These people, it is said, "are probably nearer the brutes than any
other portion of the human race on the face of the globe."  "Yet these
debased creatures speak a related dialect and partake in some measure
of the same blood as the famous Aztec race who founded the empire of
Anahuac, and raised architectural monuments rivalling the most famous
structures of the ancient world."[11]


[11] Brinton, _Myths of the New World_.



Early Wars with the Whites

Numerous minor wars between the Indians and the colonists followed upon
the settlement of Virginia, but on the whole the relations between them
were peaceable until the general massacre of white women and children
on March 22, 1622, while the men of the colony were working in the
fields.  Three hundred and forty-seven men, women, and children were
slain in a single day.  This holocaust was the signal for an Indian war
which continued intermittently for many years and cost the colonists
untold loss in blood and treasure.  Inability to comprehend each
other's point of view was of course a fertile source of irritation
between the races, and even colonists who had ample opportunities for
observing and studying the Indians during a long course of years appear
to have been incapable of understanding their outlook and true
character.  The dishonesty of white traders, on the other hand, aroused
the Indian to a frenzy of childish indignation.  It was a native saying
that "One pays for another," and when an Indian was slain his nearest
blood-relation considered that he had consummated a righteous revenge
by murdering the first white man whom he met or waylaid.  Each race
accused the other of treachery and unfairness.  Probably the colonists,
despite their {30} veneer of civilization, were only a little less
ignorant than, and as vindictively cruel as, the barbarians with whom
they strove.  The Indian regarded the colonist as an interloper who had
come to despoil him of the land of his fathers, while the Virginian
Puritan considered himself the salt of the earth and the Indian as a
heathen or 'Ishmaelite' sent by the Powers of Darkness for his
discomfiture, whom it was an act of both religion and policy to
destroy.  Vengeful ferocity was exhibited on both sides.  Another
horrible massacre of five hundred whites in 1644 was followed by the
defeat of the Indians who had butchered the colonists.  Shortly before
that event the Pequot tribe in Connecticut had a feud with the English
traders, and tortured such of them as they could lay hands on.  The men
of Connecticut, headed by John Mason, a military veteran, marched into
the Pequot country, surrounded the village of Sassacus, the Pequot
chief, gave it to the flames, and slaughtered six hundred of its
inhabitants.  The tribe was broken up, and the example of their fate so
terrified the other Indian peoples that New England enjoyed peace for
many years after.



King Philip's War

The Dutch of New York were at one period almost overwhelmed by the
Indians in their neighbourhood, and in 1656 the Virginians suffered a
severe defeat in a battle with the aborigines at the spot where
Richmond now stands.  In 1675 there broke out in New England the great
Indian war known as King Philip's War.  Philip, an Indian chief,
complained bitterly that those of his subjects who had been converted
to Christianity were withdrawn from his control, and he made vigorous
war on the settlers, laying many of their towns in {31} ashes.  But
victory was with the colonists at the battle called the 'Swamp Fight,'
and Philip and his men were scattered.

Captain Benjamin Church it was who first taught the colonists to fight
the Indians in their own manner.  He moved as stealthily as the savages
themselves, and, to avoid an alarm, never allowed an Indian to be shot
who could be reached with the hatchet.  The Indians who were captured
were sold into slavery in the West India Islands, where the hard labour
and change of climate were usually instrumental in speedily putting an
end to their servitude.

Step by step the Red Man was driven westward until he vanished from the
vicinity of the earlier settlements altogether.  From that period the
history of his conflicts with the whites is bound up with the records
of their western extension.



The Reservations

The necessity of bringing the Indian tribes under the complete control
of the United States Government and confining them to definite limits
for the better preservation of order was responsible for the policy of
placing them on tracts of territory of their own called 'reservations.'
This step led the natives to realize the benefits of a settled
existence and to depend on their own industry for a livelihood rather
than upon the more precarious products of the chase.  An Act of
Congress was passed in 1887 which put a period to the existence of the
Indian tribes as separate communities, and permitted all tribal lands
and reservations to be so divided that each individual member of a
tribe might possess a separate holding.  Many of these holdings are of
considerable value, and the possessors are by no means poorly endowed
with this world's {32} goods.  On the whole the policy of the United
States toward the Indians has been dictated by justice and humanity,
but instances have not been wanting in which arid lands have been
foisted upon the Indians, and the pressure of white settlers has
frequently forced the Government to dispossess the Red Man of the land
that had originally been granted to him.



The Story of Pocahontas

Many romantic stories are told concerning the relations of the early
white settlers with the Indians.  Among the most interesting is that of
Pocahontas, the daughter of the renowned Indian chief Powhatan, the
erstwhile implacable enemy of the whites.  Pocahontas, who as a child
had often played with the young colonists, was visiting a certain chief
named Japazaws, when an English captain named Argall bribed him with a
copper kettle to betray her into his hands.  Argall took her a captive
to Jamestown.  Here a white man by the name of John Rolfe married her,
after she had received Christian baptism.  This marriage brought about
a peace between Powhatan and the English settlers in Virginia.

When Dale went back to England in 1616 he took with him some of the
Indians.  Pocahontas, who was now called 'the Lady Rebecca,' and her
husband accompanied the party.  Pocahontas was called a princess in
England, and received much attention.  But when about to return to the
colony she died, leaving a little son.

The quaint version of Captain Nathaniel Powell, which retains all the
known facts of Pocahontas' story, states that "During this time, the
Lady Rebecca, _alias_ Pocahontas, daughter to Powhatan, by the diligent
care of Master John Rolfe her husband, and his friends, was taught to
speak such English as might well be {33} understood, well instructed in
Christianity, and was become very formal and civil after our English
manner; she had also by him a child which she loved most dearly, and
the Treasurer and Company took order both for the maintenance of her
and it, besides there were divers persons of great rank and quality had
been kind to her; and before she arrived at London, Captain Smith, to
deserve her former courtesies, made her qualities known to the Queen's
most excellent Majesty and her Court, and wrote a little book to this
effect to the Queen: An abstract whereof follows:

  "'_To the Most High and Virtuous Princess, Queen
  Anne of Great Britain_

"'MOST ADMIRED QUEEN,

"'The love I bear my God, my King and Country, hath so oft emboldened
me in the worst of extreme dangers, that now honesty doth constrain me
to presume thus far beyond myself, to present your Majesty this short
discourse: if ingratitude be a deadly poison to all honest virtues, I
must be guilty of that crime if I should omit any means to be thankful.

"'So it is,

"'That some ten years ago being in Virginia, and taken prisoner by the
power of Powhatan their chief King, I received from this great savage
exceeding great courtesy, especially from his son Nantaquaus, the most
manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a savage, and his
sister Pocahontas, the King's most dear and well-beloved daughter,
being but a child of twelve or thirteen years of age, whose
compassionate pitiful heart, of my desperate estate, gave me much cause
to respect her; I being the first Christian this proud King and his
grim attendants ever saw: and thus enthralled in their barbarous power,
I cannot say I felt the {34} least occasion of want that was in the
power of these my mortal foes to prevent, notwithstanding all their
threats.  After some six weeks fatting among these savage courtiers, at
the minute of my execution, she hazarded the beating out of her own
brains to save mine; and not only that, but so prevailed with her
father, that I was safely conveyed to Jamestown: where I found about
eight and thirty miserable poor and sick creatures, to keep possession
of all those large territories of Virginia; such was the weakness of
this poor Commonwealth, as had the savages not fed us, we directly had
starved.  And this relief, most gracious Queen, was commonly brought us
by this Lady Pocahontas.

"'Notwithstanding all these passages, when inconstant Fortune turned
our peace to war, this tender virgin would still not spare to dare to
visit us, and by her our jars have been oft appeased, and our wants
still supplied.  Were it the policy of her father thus to employ her,
or the ordinance of God thus to make her His instrument, or her
extraordinary affection to our nation, I know not; but of this I am
sure: when her father, with the utmost of his policy and power, sought
to surprise me, having but eighteen with me, the dark night could not
affright her from coming through the irksome woods, and with watered
eyes gave me intelligence, with her best advice to escape his fury;
which had he known, he had surely slain her.

"'Jamestown with her wild train she as freely frequented as her
father's habitation; and during the time of two or three years [1608-9]
she, next under God, was still the instrument to preserve this Colony
from death, famine and utter confusion; which if in those times it had
once been dissolved, Virginia might have lain as it was at our first
arrival to this day.

"'Since then, this business having been turned and {35} varied by many
accidents from that I left it at: it is most certain, after a long and
troublesome war after my departure, betwixt her father and our Colony,
all which time she was not heard of;

"'About two years after she herself was taken prisoner, being so
detained near two years longer, the Colony by that means was relieved,
peace concluded; and at last rejecting her barbarous condition, she was
married to an English gentleman, with whom at this present she is in
England; the first Christian ever of that nation, the first Virginian
ever spoke English, or had a child in marriage by an Englishman: a
matter surely, if my meaning be truly considered and well understood,
worthy a prince's understanding.

"'Thus, most gracious Lady, I have related to your Majesty, what at
your best leisure our approved Histories will account you at large, and
done in the time of your Majesty's life; and however this might be
presented you from a more worthy pen, it cannot from a more honest
heart, as yet I never begged anything of the state, or any: and it is
my want of ability and her exceeding desert; your birth, means and
authority; her birth, virtue, want and simplicity, doth make me thus
bold, humbly to beseech your Majesty to take this knowledge of her,
though it be from one so unworthy to be the reporter, as myself, her
husband's estate not being able to make her fit to attend your Majesty.
The most and least I can do is to tell you this, because none so oft
has tried it as myself, and the rather being of so great a spirit,
however her stature: if she should not be well received, seeing this
kingdom may rightly have a kingdom by her means; her present love to us
and Christianity might turn to such scorn and fury, as to divert all
this good to the worst of evil: whereas finding so great a Queen should
do her some honour {36} more than she can imagine, for being so kind to
your servants and subjects, would so ravish her with content, as endear
her dearest blood to effect that, your Majesty and all the King's
honest subjects most earnestly desire.


Captain Powell continues:


"The small time I staid in London, divers courtiers and others, my
acquaintances, have gone with me to see her, that generally concluded,
they did think God had had a great hand in her conversion, and they
have seen many English Ladies worse favoured, proportioned, and
behavioured; and as since I have heard, it pleased both the King and
Queen's Majesty honourably to esteem her, accompanied with that
honourable Lady the Lady de la Ware, and that honourable Lord her
husband, and divers other persons of good qualities, both publicly at
the masques and otherwise, to her great satisfaction and content, which
doubtless she would have deserved, had she lived to arrive in Virginia.

"The Treasurer, Council and Company, having well furnished Captain
Samuel Argall, the Lady Pocahontas alias Rebecca, with her husband and
others, in the good ship called the _George_; it pleased God at
Gravesend to take this young Lady to His mercy, where she made not more
sorrow for her unexpected death, than joy to the beholders to hear and
see her make so religious and godly an end.  Her little child Thomas
Rolfe, therefore, was left at Plymouth with Sir Lewis Stukly, that
desired the keeping of it."



Indian Kidnapping

Many are the tales of how Indians raiding a white settlement have
kidnapped and adopted into their families the children of the slain
whites, but none is {37} more enthralling than that of Frances Slocum,
who was carried away from home by a party of Delawares when but five
years of age, and who lived with them until her death in 1847.  When
discovered by the whites she was an old woman of over seventy years of
age.  The story is told by the writer of a local history as follows:

"The Slocums came from Warwick, Rhode Island, and Jonathan Slocum, the
father of the far-famed captive girl, emigrated, in 1777, with a wife
and nine children.  They located near one of the forts, upon a spot of
ground which is at present covered by the city of Wilkes-Barre.

"The early training of the family had been on principles averse to war,
and Jonathan was loath to mix with the tumult of the valley.  A son by
the name of Giles, of a fiery spirit, could not brook the evident
intentions of the Torys and British, and consequently he shouldered his
musket, and was one to take part in the battle of July 3, 1778.

"The prowling clans of savages and bushwhacking Torys which continued
to harass the valley occasioned much mischief in different parts, and
in the month of November following the battle it was the misfortune of
the Slocum family to be visited by a party of these Delawares, who
approached the cabin, in front of which two Kingsley boys were engaged
at a grindstone sharpening a knife.  The elder had on a Continental
coat, which aroused the ire of the savages, and he was shot down
without warning and scalped by the very knife which he had put edge to.

"The report roused the inmates of the house, and Mrs. Slocum had
reached the door in time sufficient to see the boy of her neighbour
scalped.

"An elder daughter seized a young child two years old, and flew with
terror to the woods.  It is said that {38} her impetuosity in escaping
caused the Indians to roar with laughter.  They were about to take away
a boy when Mrs. Slocum pointed to a lame foot, exclaiming: 'The child
is lame; he can do thee no good.'  They dropped the boy and discovered
little Frances hidden away under the staircase.  It was but the act of
a moment to secure her, and when they bore her away the tender child
could but look over the Indian's shoulder and scream 'Mamma!'

"The alarm soon spread, but the elasticity of a Delaware's step had
carried the party away into the mountains.

"Mr. Slocum was absent at the time of the capture, and upon returning
at night learned the sad news.

"The family's trials did not end here.  Miner, who is ever in sympathy
with the early annals of Wyoming, thus depicts the scenes which
occurred afterwards:

"'The cup of vengeance was not yet full.  December 16th, Mr. Slocum and
Isaac Tripp, his father-in-law, an aged man, with William Slocum, a
youth of nineteen or twenty, were feeding cattle from a stack in the
meadow, in sight of the fort, when they were fired upon by Indians.
Mr. Slocum was shot dead; Mr. Tripp wounded, speared, and tomahawked;
both were scalped.  William, wounded by a spent ball in the heel,
escaped and gave the alarm, but the alert and wily foe had retreated to
his hiding-place in the mountain.  This deed, bold as it was cruel, was
perpetrated within the town plot, in the centre of which the fortress
was located.  Thus, in little more than a month, Mrs. Slocum had lost a
beloved child, carried into captivity; the doorway had been drenched in
blood by the murder of a member of the family; two others of the
household had been taken away prisoners; and now her husband and father
were both stricken down to the {39} grave, murdered and mangled by the
merciless Indians.  Verily, the annals of Indian atrocities, written in
blood, record few instances of desolation and woe equal to this.'"

"In 1784, after peace had settled upon the country, two of the Slocum
brothers visited Niagara, in hopes of learning something of the
whereabouts of the lost sister, but to no purpose.  Large rewards were
offered, but money will not extract a confession from an Indian.

"Little Frances all this time was widely known by many tribes of
Indians, but she had become one of them, hence the mystery which
shrouded her fate.

"The efforts of the family were untiring.  Several trips were made
westward, and each resulted in vain.  A large number of Indians of
different tribes were convened, in 1789, at Tioga Point, to effect a
treaty with Colonel Proctor.  This opportunity seemed to be the fitting
one, for one visit could reach several tribes, but Mrs. Slocum, after
spending weeks of inquiry among them, was again obliged to return home
in sorrow, and almost despair.

"The brothers took a journey in 1797, occupying nearly the whole
summer, in traversing the wilderness and Indian settlements of the
west, but to no purpose.  Once, indeed, a ray of hope seemed to glimmer
upon the domestic darkness, for a female captive responded to the many
and urgent inquiries, but Mrs. Slocum discovered at once that it was
not her Frances.  The mother of the lost child went down to the grave,
having never heard from her daughter since she was carried away captive.

"In 1826, Mr. Joseph Slocum, hearing of a prominent Wyandot chief who
had a white woman for a wife, repaired to Sandusky, but was
disappointed when he beheld the woman, who he knew to a certainty could
{40} not be Frances.  Hope had become almost abandoned, and the family
was allowing the memory of the lost girl to sink into forgetfulness,
when one of those strange freaks of circumstances which seem so
mysterious to humanity, but which are the ordinary actions of Infinity,
brought to light the history and the person of the captive girl of
Wyoming.

"Colonel Ewing, who was connected with Indian service, had occasion to
rest with a tribe on the Wabash, when he discovered a woman whose
outlines and texture convinced him that she must be a white woman,
though her face was as red as any squaw's could be.  He made inquiries,
and she admitted that she had been taken from her parents when she was
young, that her name was Slocum, and that she was now so old that she
had no objections to having her relations know of her whereabouts.

"The Colonel knew full well how anxious many eastern hearts were to
hear of the lost one of earlier days, and thinking that he would do a
charitable service, he addressed the following letter to the
Post-master of Lancaster, Pennsylvania:


"'LOGANSPORT, INDIANA: _January_ 20, 1835

"'DEAR SIR,--

"'In the hope that some good may result from it, I have taken this
means of giving to your fellow-citizens--say the descendants of the
early settlers of Susquehanna--the following information: and if there
be any now living whose name is Slocum, to them, I hope, the following
may be communicated through the public prints of your place.

"'There is now living near this place, among the Miami tribe of
Indians, an aged white woman, who a few days ago told me, while I
lodged in the camp {41} one night, that she was taken away from her
father's house, on or near the Susquehanna River, when she was very
young--say from five to eight years old, as she thinks--by the Delaware
Indians, who were then hostile toward the whites.  She says her
father's name was Slocum; that he was a Quaker, rather small in
stature, and wore a large-brimmed hat; was of sandy hair and light
complexion, and much freckled; that he lived about a half a mile from a
town where there was a fort; that they lived in a wooden house of two
stories high, and had a spring near the house.  She says three
Delawares came to the house in the daytime, when all were absent but
herself, and perhaps two other children: her father and brothers were
absent making hay.  The Indians carried her off, and she was adopted
into a family of Delawares, who raised her and treated her as their own
child.  They died about forty years ago, somewhere in Ohio.  She was
then married to a Miami, by whom she had four children; two of them are
now living--they are both daughters--and she lives with them.  Her
husband is dead; she is old and feeble, and thinks she will not live
long.

"'These considerations induced her to give the present history of
herself, which she would never do before, fearing that her kindred
would come and force her away.  She has lived long and happy as an
Indian, and, but for her colour, would not be suspected of being
anything else but such.  She is very respectable and wealthy, sober and
honest.  Her name is without reproach.  She says her father had a large
family, say eight children in all--six older than herself, one younger,
as well as she can recollect; and she doubts not that there are still
living many of their descendants, but seems to think that all her
brothers and sisters must be dead, as she is very old herself, not far
from {42} the age of eighty.  She thinks she was taken prisoner before
the last two wars, which must mean the Revolutionary war, as Wayne's
war and the late war have been since that one.  She has entirely lost
her mother tongue, and speaks only in Indian, which I also understand,
and she gave me a full history of herself.

"'Her own Christian name she has forgotten, but says her father's name
was Slocum, and he was a Quaker.  She also recollects that it was on
the Susquehanna River that they lived.  I have thought that from this
letter you might cause something to be inserted in the newspapers of
your county that might possibly catch the eye of some of the
descendants of the Slocum family, who have knowledge of a girl having
been carried off by the Indians some seventy years ago.  This they
might know from family tradition.  If so, and they will come here, I
will carry them where they may see the object of my letter alive and
happy, though old and far advanced in life.

"'I can form no idea whereabouts on the Susquehanna River this family
could have lived at that early period, namely, about the time of the
Revolutionary war, but perhaps you can ascertain more about it.  If so,
I hope you will interest yourself, and, if possible, let her brothers
and sisters, if any be alive--if not, their children--know where they
may once more see a relative whose fate has been wrapped in mystery for
seventy years, and for whom her bereaved and afflicted parents
doubtless shed many a bitter tear.  They have long since found their
graves, though their lost child they never found.  I have been much
affected with the disclosure, and hope the surviving friends may
obtain, through your goodness, the information I desire for them.  If I
can be of any service to them, they may command me.  In the meantime, I
hope you will {43} excuse me for the freedom I have taken with you, a
total stranger, and believe me to be, Sir, with much respect, your
obedient servant,

"'GEO. W. EWING.'


"This letter met the fate of many others of importance--it was flung
away as a wild story.

"The Postmaster died, and had been in his grave time sufficient to
allow his wife an opportunity of straightening his affairs.  She was in
the act of overhauling a mass of papers belonging to her husband's
business when she encountered the letter of Colonel Ewing.  A woman's
perceptions are keen and quick, and the tender emotions which were
begotten in her mind were but the responses of her better nature.  Her
sympathy yearned for one of her own sex, and she could do no more than
proclaim the story to the world.  Accordingly she sent the letter to
the editor of the Lancaster _Intelligence_, and therein it was
published.

"Newspapers of limited circulation may not revolutionize matters of
great importance, but they have their sphere in detail, and when the
aggregate is summed they accomplish more than the mighty engines of
larger mediums.

"It was so in this case--the Lancaster paper was about issuing an extra
for temperance purposes, and this letter happened to go into the forme
to help 'fill up,' as poor printers sometimes express it.  The
Lancaster office was not poor, but the foreman did 'fill up' with the
Ewing letter.  Rev. Samuel Bowman, of Wilkes-Barre, by chance saw a
copy.  He knew the Slocums, and the entire history of the valley as it
was given by tradition.

"He was not present in the valley at the time, but {44} his heart
warmed for the scenes and associations of early times in Wyoming.  He
mailed one of the papers to a Slocum, a brother of the captive girl,
and the effect produced was as if by magic.  Everybody was acquainted
with the history of Frances, and all were interested in her fate.
Sixty years had gone by since she was carried away, an innocent girl,
and now the world had found the lost one.

"There was one mark which could not be mistaken--little Frances when a
child had played with a brother in the blacksmith's shop, and by a
careless blow from the latter a finger was crushed in such a manner
that it never regained its original form.

"Mr. Isaac Slocum, accompanied by a sister and brother, sought an
interview with the tanned woman, through the aid of an interpreter, and
the first question asked, after an examination of the finger, was: 'How
came that finger jambed?'  The reply was convincing and conclusive: 'My
brother struck it with a hammer in the shop, a long time ago, before I
was carried away.'

"Here then at last, by this unmistakable token, the lost was found.
Her memory proved to be unerring; the details of events sixty years old
were perfect, and given in such a manner as to awaken in the hearts of
the Slocum family warm emotions for the withered old woman.  Her life,
although rude, had been a happy one, and no inducements were strong
enough to persuade her to leave the camp-fires of her adoption.

"By Act of Congress, Ma-con-a-qua, the Indian title of Frances Slocum,
was granted one mile square of the reservation which was appointed to
the Indians of Indiana, west of the Mississippi--to be held by herself
during her life, and to revert to her heirs forever.  She died March
9th, 1847, and was given Christian burial {45} in a beautiful spot
where the romantic waters of the Missisinewa and Wabash rivers join
their ripples on the way to the sea.

"The story of the captive girl of Wyoming has been breathed around the
hearths of the entire Christian world as one of the most fruitful in
romance and song."



Dwellings

The habitations of the Indians of North America may be classed as
community houses (using the term 'community' in the sense of comprising
more than one family) and single or family dwellings.  "The house
architecture of the northern tribes is of little importance, in itself
considered; but as an outcome of their social condition, and for
comparison with that of the southern village Indians, is highly
important.  The typical community houses, as those of the Iroquois
tribes, were 50 to 100 feet long by 16 to 18 wide, with frame of poles,
and with sides and triangular roof covered with bark, usually of the
elm.  The interior was divided into compartments, and a smoke-hole was
left in the roof.  A Mohican house, similar in form, 14 by 60 feet, had
the sides and roof made of rushes and chestnut bark, with an opening
along the top of the roof from end to end.  The Mandan circular
community house was usually about 14 feet in diameter.  It was
supported by two series of posts and cross-beams, and the wide roof and
sloping sides were covered with willow or brush matting and earth.  The
fireplace was in the centre.  Morgan thinks that the oblong, round-roof
houses of the Virginia and North Carolina tribes, seen and described by
Captain John Smith and drawn by John White, were of the community
order.  That some of them housed a number of families is distinctly
{46} stated.  Morgan includes also in the community class the circular,
dome-shaped earth lodges of Sacramento Valley and the L-form,
tent-shaped, thatched lodges of the higher areas of California; but the
leading examples of community houses are the large, sometimes massive,
many-celled clusters of stone or adobe in New Mexico and Arizona known
as _pueblos_.  These dwellings vary in form, some of those built in
prehistoric times being semicircular, others oblong, around or
enclosing a court or _plaza_.  These buildings were constructed usually
in terrace form, the lower having a one-story tier of apartments, the
next two stories, and so on to the uppermost tier, which sometimes
constituted a seventh story.  The masonry consisted usually of small
flat stones laid in adobe mortar and chinked with spalls; but sometimes
large balls of adobe were used as building stones, or a double row of
wattling was erected and filled in with grout, solidly tamped.  By the
latter method, known as _pisé_ construction, walls 5 to 7 feet thick
were sometimes built.  The outer walls of the lowest story were pierced
only by small openings, access to the interior being gained by means of
ladders, which could be drawn up if necessary, and of a hatchway in the
roof.  It is possible that some of the elaborate structures of Mexico
were developed from such hive-like buildings as those of the typical
_pueblos_, the cells increasing in size toward the south, as suggested
by Bandelier.  Chimneys appear to have been unknown in North America
until after contact of the natives with Europeans, the hatchway in the
roof serving the double purpose of entrance and flue.  Other forms,
some 'community' and others not, are the following: The Tlingit, Haida,
and some other tribes build substantial rectangular houses, with sides
and ends formed of planks, and with the fronts elaborately carved and
{47} painted with symbolic figures.  Directly in front of the house a
totem pole is placed, and near by a memorial pole is erected.  These
houses are sometimes 40 by 100 feet in the Nootka and Salish regions,
and are occupied by a number of families.  Formerly some of the Haida
houses are said to have been built on platforms supported by posts.
Some of these seen by such early navigators as Vancouver were 25 or 30
feet above ground, access being had by notched logs serving as ladders.
Among the north-western Indian tribes, as the Nez Percés, the dwelling
was a frame of poles covered with rush matting or with buffalo or elk
skins.  The houses of the Californian tribes were rectangular or
circular; of the latter, some were conical, others dome-shaped.  There
was also formerly in use in various parts of California, and to some
extent on the interior plateaus, a semi-subterranean earth-covered
lodge known amongst the Maidu as _kum_.  The most primitive abodes were
those of the Paiute and the Cocopa, consisting simply of brush shelters
for summer, and for winter of a framework of poles bent together at the
top and covered with brush, bark, and earth.  Somewhat similar
structures are erected by the Pueblos as farm shelters, and more
elaborate houses of the same general type are built by the Apache of
Arizona.  As indicated by archæological researches, the circular
wigwam, with sides of bark or mats, built over a shallow excavation in
the soil, and with earth thrown against the base, appears to have been
the usual form of dwelling in the Ohio valley and the immediate valley
of the Mississippi in prehistoric and early historic times.  Another
kind of dwelling, in use in Arkansas before the Discovery, was a
rectangular structure with two rooms in front and one in the rear; the
walls were of upright posts thickly plastered with clay on a sort of
{48} wattle.  With the exception of the _pueblo_ structures, buildings
of stone or adobe were unknown until recent times.  The dwellings of
some of the tribes of the plains, such as the Sioux, Arapaho, Comanche,
and Kiowa, were generally portable skin tents or _tipis_, but those of
the Omaha, Osage, and some others were more substantial.  The dwellings
of the Omaha, according to Miss Fletcher, 'are built by setting
carefully selected and prepared posts together in a circle, and binding
firmly with willows, then backing them with dried grass, and covering
the entire structure with closely packed sods.  The roof is made in the
same manner, having an additional support of an inner circle of posts,
with crochets to hold the cross-logs which act as beams to the
dome-shaped roof.  A circular opening in the centre serves as a
chimney, and also to give light to the interior of the dwelling; a sort
of sail is rigged and fastened outside of this opening to guide the
smoke and prevent it from annoying the occupants of the lodge.  The
entrance passage-way, which usually faces eastward, is from 6 to 10
feet long, and is built in the same manner as the lodge.'  An important
type is the Wichita grass hut, circular dome-shaped with conical top.
The frame is built somewhat in panels formed by ribs and cross-bars;
these are covered with grass tied on shingle fashion.  These grass
lodges vary in diameter from 40 to 50 feet.  The early Florida houses,
according to Le Moyne's illustrations published by De Bry, were either
circular with dome-like roof, or oblong with rounded roof, like those
of Secotan in North Carolina, as shown in John White's figures.  The
frame was of poles covered with bark, or the latter was sometimes
thatched.  The Chippeway usually constructed a conical or hemispherical
framework of poles, covered with bark.  Formerly caves and
rock-shelters {49} were used in some sections as abodes, and in the
Pueblo region houses were formerly constructed in natural recesses or
shelters in the cliffs, whence the designation cliff-dwellings.
Similar habitations are still in use to some extent by the Tarahumare
of Chihuahua, Mexico.  Cavate houses with several rooms were also hewn
in the sides of soft volcanic cliffs; so numerous are these in Verde
Valley, Arizona, and the Jemez plateau, New Mexico, that for miles the
cliff-face is honeycombed with them.  As a rule the women were the
builders of the houses where wood was the structural material, but the
men assisted with the heavier work.  In the southern states it was a
common custom to erect mounds as foundations for council-houses, for
the chief's dwelling, or for structures designed for other official
uses.  The erection of houses, especially those of a permanent
character, was usually attended with great ceremony, particularly when
the time for dedication came.  The construction of the Navaho _hogan_,
for example, was done in accordance with fixed rules, as was the
cutting and sewing of the _tipi_ among the Plains tribes, while the new
houses erected during the year were usually dedicated with ceremony and
feasting.  Although the better types of houses were symmetrical and
well-proportioned, their builders had not learned the use of the square
or the plumb-line.  The unit of measure was also apparently unknown,
and even in the best types of ancient _pueblo_ masonry the joints of
the stonework were not 'broken.'  The Indian names for some of their
structures, as _tipi, wigwam, wickiup, hogan_, have come into use to a
great extent by English-speaking people."[12]


[12] _Bulletin 30_, Bureau of American Ethnology.


[Illustration: An Earth Lodge.  By permission of the Bureau of American
Ethnology]

{50}

Tribal Law and Custom

There is but little exact data available respecting the social polity
of the Red Race of North America.  Kinship appears to have been the
basis of government among most of the tribes, and descent was traced
both through the male and female line, according to locality.  In most
tribes military and civil functions were carefully distinguished from
each other, the civil government being lodged in the hands of chiefs of
varying grades.  These chiefs were elected by a tribal council, and
were not by virtue of their office military leaders.  Every village or
group was represented in the general council by a head-man, who was
sometimes chosen by the priests.  Secret societies exercised a powerful
sway.



Hunting

Hunting was almost the sole occupation of the males of the Indian
tribes.  So much were they dependent on the produce of the chase for
their livelihood that they developed the pursuit of game into an art.
In commerce they confined themselves to trading in skins and furs; but
they disposed of these only when their personal or tribal requirements
had been fully satisfied.  When the tribe had returned from its summer
hunting expedition, and after the spoils of the chase had been
faithfully distributed among its members--a tribal custom which was
rigorously adhered to--ceremonial rites were engaged in and certain
sacred formulæ were observed.  In hunting game the Indians usually
erected pens or enclosures, into which the beasts were driven and
slaughtered.  Early writers believed that they fired the prairie grass
and pressed in upon the panic-stricken herd; but this is contradicted
by the Indians {51} themselves, who assert that fire would be injurious
to the fur of the animals hunted.  Indeed, such an act, causing a herd
to scatter, was punishable by death.  In exceptional cases, however,
the practice might be resorted to in order to drive the animals into
the woods.  In pursuing their prey it was customary for the tribe to
form a circle, and thus prevent escape.  The most favourable months for
hunting were June, July, and August, when the animals were fat and the
fur of rich quality.  To the hunter who had slain the animal the tribe
awarded the skin and part of the carcass.  The other portions were
usually divided among the inhabitants of the village.  As a result of
this method of sharing there was very little waste.  The flesh, which
was cut into thin slices, was hung up to dry in the sun on long poles,
and rolled up and stored for winter use.  The pelts were used in the
making of clothing, shields, and bags.  Ropes, tents, and other
articles were also prepared from the skins.  Bowstrings and
sewing-thread were made from the sinews, and drinking-cups were shaped
out of the larger bones.

Among the methods employed in capturing game was the setting of traps,
into which the animal was decoyed.  A more primitive method of taking
animals by the hand was largely in use.  The hunter would steal upon
his prey in the dead of night, using the utmost cunning and agility,
and seize upon the unwary bird or sleeping animal.  The Indians were
skilled in climbing and diving, and, employing the art of mimicry, in
which they attained great proficiency, they would surround a herd of
animals and drive them into a narrow gorge out of which they could not
escape.  Their edged weapons, fashioned from stone, bones, and reeds,
and used with great skill, assisted them {52} effectually when brought
to close quarters with their prey.  Dogs, although not regularly
trained, they found of much value in the hunt, especially for tracking
down the more swift and savage beasts.  With the assistance of fire the
hunter's conquest over the animal became assured.  His prey would be
driven out of its hiding-place by smoke, or the torch would dazzle it.
Drugging animals with poisonous roots and polluting streams to capture
fish were largely practised.  The use of nets and scoops for taking
animals from the water and the fashioning of rakes for securing worms
from the earth were other methods employed to obtain food.  The use of
the canoe gave rise to the invention of the harpoon.

The wandering habits of their game and the construction of fences were
obstacles which strengthened their perception and gave excellent
training for the hunt.  The variety of circumstances with which they
had to meet caused them to prepare or devise the many weapons and
snares to which they resorted.  Certain periods or seasons of the year
were observed for the hunting of particular animals, each of which
figured as a token or heraldic symbol of a tribe or _gens_.

Schoolcraft, in an accurate and entertaining account of Indian hunting
in his _Historical and Statistical Information respecting the Indian
Tribes_, says:

"The simplest of all species of hunting is perhaps the art of hunting
the deer.  This animal, it is known, is endowed with the fatal
curiosity of stopping in its flight to turn round and look at the
object that disturbed it; and as this is generally done within
rifle-range, the habit is indulged at the cost of its life; whereas, if
it trusted unwaveringly to its heels, it would escape.

"One of the most ingenious modes of hunting the {53} deer is that of
_fire-hunting_, which is done by descending a stream in a canoe at
night with a flambeau.  In the latter part of spring and summer the
Indian hunters on the small interior rivers take the bark of the elm or
cedar, peeling it off whole, for five or six feet in length, and,
turning it inside out, paint the outer surface black with charcoal.  It
is then pierced with an orifice to fit it on the bow of the canoe, so
as to hide the sitter; then a light or torch is made by small rolls,
two or three feet long, of twisted birch bark (which is very
inflammable), and this is placed on the extreme bow of the boat, a
little in front of the bark screen, in which position it throws its
rays strongly forward, leaving all behind in darkness.  The deer, whose
eyes are fixed on the light as it floats down, is thus brought within
range of the gun.  Swans are hunted in the same way.

"The mazes of the forest are, however, the Indian hunter's peculiar
field of action.  No footprint can be impressed there with which he is
not familiar.  In his temporary journeys in the search after game he
generally encamps early, and sallies out at the first peep of day on
his hunting tour.  If he is in a forest country he chooses his ambush
in valleys, for the plain reason that all animals, as night approaches,
come into the valleys.  In ascending these he is very careful to take
that side of a stream which throws a shadow from it, so that he may
have a clear view of all that passes on the opposite side, while he is
himself screened by the shadow.  But he is particularly on the alert to
take this precaution if he is apprehensive of lurking foes.  The tracks
of an animal are the subject of the minutest observation; they tell him
at a glance the species of animal that has passed, the time that has
elapsed, and the course it has pursued.  If the surface of the earth be
moist, the indications are {54} plain; if it be hard or rocky, they are
drawn from less palpable but scarcely less unmistakable signs.

"One of the largest and most varied days' hunt of which we are apprised
was by a noted Chippeway hunter, named Nokay, on the upper Mississippi,
who, tradition asserts, in one day, near the mouth of the Crow Wing
River, killed sixteen elk, four buffaloes, five deer, three bears, one
lynx, and a porcupine.  This feat has doubtless been exceeded in the
buffalo ranges of the south-west, where the bow and arrow is known to
have been so dexterously and rapidly applied in respect to that animal;
but it is seldom that the chase in forest districts is as successful as
in this instance.

"On one occasion the celebrated chief Wabojeeg went out early in the
morning, near the banks of Lake Superior, to set martin-traps.  He had
set about forty, and was returning to his wigwam, armed with his
hatchet and knife only, when he encountered a buck moose.  He sheltered
himself behind trees, retreating; but as the animal pursued, he picked
up a pole, and, unfastening his moccasin-strings, tied the knife firmly
to the pole.  He then took a favourable position behind a tree and
stabbed the animal several times in the throat and breast.  At length
it fell, and he cut out and carried home the tongue as a trophy of his
prowess.

"In 1808, Gitshe Iawba, of Kewywenon, Lake Superior, killed a
three-year-old moose of three hundred pounds weight.  It was in the
month of February, and the snow was so soft, from a partial thaw, that
the _agim_, or snow-shoes, sank deep at every step.  After cutting up
the animal and drawing out the blood, he wrapped the flesh in the skin,
and, putting himself under it, rose up erect.  Finding he could bear
the weight, he then took a litter of nine pups in a blanket upon his
right {55} arm, threw his wallet on top of his head, and, putting his
gun over his left shoulder, walked six miles to his wigwam.  This was
the strongest man that has appeared in the Chippeway nation in modern
times.

"In 1827, Annimikens, of Red River of the North, was one day quite
engrossed in looking out a path for his camp to pass, when he was
startled by the sharp snorting of a grizzly bear.  He immediately
presented his gun and attempted to fire; but, the priming not igniting,
he was knocked by the animal, the next instant, several steps backward,
and his gun driven full fifteen feet through the air.  The bear then
struck him on one cheek and tore away a part of it.  The little
consciousness he had left told him to be passive, and manifest no signs
of life.  Fortunately, the beast had satiated his appetite on the
carcass of a buffalo near by.  Having clawed his victim at pleasure, he
then took him by the neck, dragged him into the bushes, and there left
him.  Yet from such a wound the Indian recovered, though a disfigured
man, and lived to tell me the story with his own lips.

"Relations of such hunting exploits and adventures are vividly repeated
in the Indian country, and constitute a species of renown which is
eagerly sought by the young."



Costume

The picturesque costume of the Red Man is so original in character as
to deserve more than passing mention.  An authority on Indian costume,
writing in _Bulletin 30_ of the Bureau of American Ethnology, says:

"The tribes of Northern America belong in general to the wholly clothed
peoples, the exceptions being those inhabiting the warmer regions of
the southern {56} United States and the Pacific coast, who were
semi-clothed.  Tanned skin of the deer family was generally the
material for clothing throughout the greater part of the country.  The
hide of the buffalo was worn for robes by tribes of the plains, and
even for dresses and leggings by older people, but the leather was too
harsh for clothing generally, while elk- or moose-skin, although soft,
was too thick.  Fabrics of bark, hair, fur, mountain-sheep wool, and
feathers were made in the North Pacific, Pueblo, and southern regions,
and cotton has been woven by the Hopi from ancient times.  Climate,
environment, elevation, and oceanic currents determined the materials
used for clothing as well as the demand for clothing.  Sinew from the
tendons of the larger animals was the usual sewing material, but fibres
of plants, especially the agave, were also employed.  Bone awls were
used in sewing; bone needles were rarely employed and were too large
for fine work.  The older needlework is of exceptionally good character
and shows great skill with the awl.  Unlike many other arts, sewing was
practised by both sexes, and each sex usually made its own clothing.
The typical and more familiar costume of the Indian man was of tanned
buckskin, and consisted of a shirt, a breech-cloth, leggings tied to a
belt or waist-strap, and low moccasins.  The shirt, which hung free
over the hips, was provided with sleeves and was designed to be drawn
over the head.  The woman's costume differed from that of the man in
the length of the shirt, which had short sleeves hanging loosely over
the upper arm, and in the absence of the breech-cloth.  Women also wore
the belt to confine the garment at the waist.  Robes of skin, woven
fabrics, or of feathers were also worn, but blankets were substituted
for these later.  The costume presented tribal differences in cut,
colour, and ornamentation.  The free edges were {57} generally fringed,
and quill embroidery and beadwork, painting, scalp-locks, tails of
animals, feathers, claws, hoofs, shells, etc., were applied as
ornaments or charms.  The typical dress of the Pueblo Indians is
generally similar to that of the Plains tribes, except that it is made
largely of woven fabrics.

"Among the Pacific coast tribes, and those along the Mexican border,
the Gulf, and the Atlantic coast, the customary garment of women was a
fringe-like skirt of bark, cord, strung seeds, or peltry, worn around
the loins.  In certain seasons or during special occupations only the
loin-band was worn.  For occasional use in cooler weather a skin robe
or cape was thrown about the shoulders, or, under exceptional
conditions, a large robe woven of strips of rabbit-skin.  Ceremonial
costume was much more elaborate than that for ordinary wear.  Moccasins
and leggings were worn throughout much of this area, but in the warmer
parts and in California their use was unusual.  Some tribes near the
Mexican boundary wear sandals, and sandal-wearing tribes once ranged
widely in the south-west.  These have also been found in Kentucky
caverns.  Hats, usually of basketry, were worn by many Pacific coast
tribes.  Mittens were used by the Eskimo and other tribes of the far
north.  Belts of various materials and ornamentation not only confined
the clothing, but supported pouches, trinket-bags, paint-bags, etc.
Larger pouches and pipe-bags of fur or deer-skin, beaded or ornamented
with quill-work, and of plain skin, netting, or woven stuff, were slung
from the shoulder.  Necklaces, earrings, charms, and bracelets in
infinite variety formed a part of the clothing, and the wrist-guard to
protect the arm from the recoil of the bowstring was general.

"Shortly after the advent of whites Indian costume {58} was profoundly
modified over a vast area of America by the copying of European dress
and the use of traders' stuffs.  Knowledge of prehistoric and early
historic primitive textile fabrics has been derived from impressions of
fabrics on pottery, and from fabrics themselves that have been
preserved by charring in fire, contact with copper, or protection from
the elements in caves.

[Illustration: Omaha Woman's Costume.  By permission of the Bureau of
American Ethnology]

"A synopsis of the costumes worn by tribes living in the several
geographical regions of northern America follows.  The list is
necessarily incomplete, for on account of the abandonment of tribal
costumes the data are chiefly historical.


"ATHAPASCAN.  _Mackenzie and Yukon_--Men: Shirt-coat,
legging-moccasins, breech-cloth, hat and hood.  Women: Long shirt-coat,
legging-moccasins, belt.

"ALGONQUIAN-IROQUOIS.  _Northern_--Men: Robe, shirt-coat, long-coat,
trousers, leggings, moccasins, breech-cloth, turban.  _Virginia_--Men
and women: Cloak, waist-garment, moccasins, sandals (?), breech-cloth
(?).  _Western_--Men: Robe, long dress-shirt, long leggings, moccasins,
bandolier-bag.  Women: Long dress-shirt, short leggings, moccasins,
belt.  _Arctic_--Men: Long coat, open in front, short breeches,
leggings, moccasins, gloves or mittens, cap or headdress.  Women: Robe,
shirt-dress, leggings, moccasins, belt, cap, and sometimes a
shoulder-mantle.

"SOUTHERN or MUSKHOGEAN.  _Seminole_--Men: Shirt, over-shirt, leggings,
moccasins, breech-cloth, belt, turban.  Formerly the Gulf tribes wore
robe, waist-garment, and occasionally moccasins.

"PLAINS.  Men: Buffalo robe, shirt to knees or longer, breech-cloth,
thigh-leggings, moccasins, headdress.  Women: Long shirt-dress with
short ample cape sleeves, belt, leggings to the knees, moccasins.

"NORTH PACIFIC.  _Chilkat_--Men: Blanket or bark mat robe, shirt-coat
(rare), legging-moccasins, basket hat.  Women: Tanned skin
shoulder-robe, shirt-dress with sleeves, fringed apron, leggings (?),
moccasins, breech-cloth (?).

"WASHINGTON-COLUMBIA, _Salish_--Men: Robe, head-band, and, rarely,
shirt-coat, leggings, moccasins, breech-cloth.  Women: Long
shirt-dress, apron, and, rarely, leggings, breech-cloth, moccasins.

{59}

"SHOSHONEAN.  Same as the Plains tribes.

"CALIFORNIA-OREGON.  _Hupa_--Men: Robe, and waist-garment on occasion,
moccasins (rarely); men frequently and old men generally went entirely
naked.  Women: Waist-garment and narrow aprons; occasionally robe-cape,
like Pueblo, over shoulders or under arms, over breast; basket cap;
sometimes moccasins.  _Central California_--Men: Usually naked; robe,
network cap, moccasins, and breech-cloth occasionally.  Women:
Waist-skirt of vegetal fibre or buckskin, and basketry cap; robe and
moccasins on occasion.

"SOUTH-WESTERN.  _Pueblo_--Men: Blanket or rabbit-skin or feather robe,
shirt with sleeves, short breeches partly open on outer sides,
breech-cloth, leggings to knees, moccasins, hair-tape, and head-band.
Women: Blanket fastened over one shoulder, extending to knees; small
calico shawl over blanket thrown over shoulders; legging-moccasins,
belt.  Sandals formerly worn in this area.  Snow-moccasins of fur
sometimes worn in winter.  _Apache_--Men: Same as on plains.  Women:
Same, except legging-moccasins with shield toe.  _Navaho_--Now like
Pueblo; formerly like Plains tribes.

"GILA-SONORA.  _Cocopa and Mohave_--Men: Breech-cloth, sandals,
sometimes head-band.  Women: Waist-garments, usually of fringed bark,
front and rear.  _Pima_--Same as Plains; formerly cotton robe,
waist-cloth and sandals."



Face-Painting

A first-hand account of how the Indian brave decorated his face cannot
but prove of interest.  Says a writer who dwelt for some time among the
Sioux:[13]


[13] J. G. Kohl, _Kitchi-gami_ (1860).


"Daily, when I had the opportunity, I drew the patterns their faces
displayed, and at length obtained a collection, whose variety even
astonished myself.  The strange combinations produced in the
kaleidoscope may be termed weak when compared to what an Indian's
imagination produces on his forehead, nose, and cheek.  I will try to
give some account of them as far as words will reach.  Two things
struck me most in their arrangement of colour.  First, the fact that
they did not trouble themselves at all about the natural divisions {60}
of the face; and, secondly, the extraordinary mixture of the graceful
and the grotesque.  At times, it is true, they did observe those
natural divisions produced by nose, eyes, mouth, etc.  The eyes were
surrounded with regular coloured circles; yellow or black stripes
issued harmoniously and equidistant from the mouth; over the cheeks ran
a semicircle of green dots, the ears forming the centre.  At times,
too, the forehead was traversed by lines running parallel to the
natural contour of that feature; this always looked somewhat human, so
to speak, because the fundamental character of the face was unaltered.
Usually, however, these regular patterns do not suit the taste of the
Indians.  They like contrasts, and frequently divide the face into two
halves, which undergo different treatment; one will be dark--say black
or blue--but the other quite light, yellow, bright red, or white: one
will be crossed by thick lines made by the forefingers, while the other
is arabesque, with extremely fine lines, produced by the aid of a brush.

"This division is produced in two different ways.  The line of
demarcation sometimes runs down the nose, so that the right cheek and
side are buried in gloom, while the left looks like a flower-bed in the
sunshine.  At times, though, they draw the line across the nose, so
that the eyes glisten out of the dark colour, while all beneath the
nose is bright and lustrous.  It seems as if they wished to represent
on their faces the different phases of the moon.  I frequently inquired
whether there was any significance in these various patterns, but was
assured it was a mere matter of taste.  They were simple arabesques,
like their squaws' work on the moccasins, girdles, tobacco-pouches, etc.

"Still there is a certain symbolism in the use of the colours.  Thus,
red generally typifies joy and festivity; {61} and black mourning.
When any very melancholy death takes place, they rub a handful of
charcoal over the entire face.  If the deceased is only a distant
relative, a mere trellis-work of black lines is painted on the face;
they have also a half-mourning, and only paint half the face black.
Red is not only their joy, but also their favourite colour.  They
generally cover their face with a coating of bright red, on which the
other colours are laid; for this purpose they employ vermilion, which
comes from China, and is brought them by the Indian traders.  However,
this red is by no means _de rigueur_.  Frequently the ground colour is
a bright yellow, for which they employ chrome-yellow, obtained from the
trader.

"They are also very partial to Prussian blue, and employ this colour
not only on their faces, but as a type of peace on their pipes; and as
the hue of the sky, on their graves.  It is a very curious fact, by the
way, that hardly any Indian can distinguish blue from green.  I have
seen the sky which they represent on their graves by a round arch, as
frequently of one colour as the other.  In the Sioux language _toya_
signifies both green and blue; and a much-travelled Jesuit Father told
me that among many Indian tribes the same confusion prevails.  I have
also been told that tribes have their favourite colours, and I am
inclined to believe it, although I was not able to recognize any such
rule.  Generally all Indians seem to hold their own native copper skin
in special affection, and heighten it with vermilion when it does not
seem to them sufficiently red.

"I discovered during a journey I took among the Sioux that there is a
certain national style in this face-painting.  They were talking of a
poor Indian who had gone mad, and when I asked some of his {62}
countrymen present in what way he displayed his insanity, they said,
'Oh, he dresses himself up so funnily with feathers and shells; he
paints his face so comically that it is enough to make one die of
laughing.'  This was said to me by persons so overladen with feathers,
shells, green and vermilion, Prussian blue, and chrome-yellow, that I
could hardly refrain from smiling.  Still, I drew the conclusion from
it that there must be something conventional and typical in their
variegated style which might be easily infringed."



Indian Art

If the Red Race of North America did not produce artistic work of an
exalted order it at least evolved a distinctive and peculiar type of
art.  Some of the drawings and paintings on the walls of the brick
erections of the southern tribes and the heraldic and religious symbols
painted on the skin-covered lodges of the Plains people are intricate
and rhythmic in plan and brilliant in colouring.  The houses of the
north-west coast tribes, built entirely of wood, are supported by
pillars elaborately carved and embellished to represent the totem or
tribal symbol of the owner.  On both the interior and exterior walls
brilliantly coloured designs, usually scenes from Indian mythology, are
found.

The decoration of earthenware was and is common to most of the tribes
of North America, and is effected both by carving and stamping.  It is
in the art of carving that the Indian race appears to have achieved its
greatest æsthetic triumph.  Many carved objects are exceedingly
elaborate and intricate in design, and some of the work on stone pipes,
masks, and household utensils and ornaments has won the highest
admiration of European masters of the art.  Indeed, {63} many of the
pipes and claystone carvings of the Chimpseyans and Clallams of
Vancouver, and the Chippeways and Babeens, are by no means inferior to
the best specimens of European mediæval carved work.

In the potter's art the Indian people often exhibit great taste, and
the tribes of the Mississippi valley and the Pueblo Indians had made
exceptional progress in plaster design.  As has already been mentioned,
the mound-builders displayed considerable skill in metalwork, and the
stamped plates of copper taken from the earthen pyramids which they
raised strikingly illustrate the fact that Indian art is the growth and
outcome of centuries of native effort and by no means a thing of
yesterday.

In weaving, needlework of all kinds, bead-work, and feather-work the
Indians show great taste.  Most of the designs they employ are
geometric in plan.  In feather-work especially the aboriginal peoples
of the whole American continent excel.  Rank was indicated among the
Plains tribes either by the variety and number of feathers worn or by
the manner of mounting or notching them.

The aboriginal art of North America is in the highest degree symbolic
and mythologic.  It is thus entirely removed from any taint of
materialism, and had it been permitted to evolve upon its own peculiar
lines it might have developed a great measure of idealistic excellence.



Warfare

In the art of guerrilla warfare the Indians have always shown
exceptional skill.  Armed with bow and arrow, a war-club, or a
tomahawk, they carried on a fierce resistance to the incursions of the
white man.  These weapons were artistically shaped and moulded, and
{64} were eminently suited to their owner's mode of fighting.  But as
they came more into contact with the whites the natives displayed a
particular keenness to obtain firearms and gunpowder, steel knives and
hatchets.  They dispensed with their own rude if effective implements
of war, and, obtaining the coveted weapons by making successful raids
upon the camps of their enemies, they set themselves to learn how to
use them.  So mysterious did gunpowder appear to them that they
believed it to possess the property of reproduction, and planted it in
the earth in the hope that it would yield a supply for their future
needs.  In attacking the settlers they used many ingenious artifices to
entrap or ambuscade them.  These methods, naturally, proved successful
against the whites, who had yet to learn Indian war-craft, but soon the
settlers learned to adopt the same devices.  The Indian would imitate
the cry of the wild goose to attract the white hunter into the woods,
where he would spring upon him.  He would also reverse his snow-shoes
in winter, to make it appear to the settler that he was retreating.
Covering themselves with twigs to look like a bush was another method
adopted by Indian spies.  Occasionally they would approach the white
man apparently in a spirit of friendliness, only to commit some act of
treachery.  Block-houses were built by the settlers as a means of
defence against Indian nocturnal surprises, and into these the women
and children were hurried for safety.  But the perseverance of the
white man and the declining birth-rate of the Indian tribes began to
create a new situation.  Driven repeatedly from one part of the country
to another, and confined to a limited territory in which to live, hunt,
and cultivate the soil, the Indians finally adopted a less aggressive
attitude to those whom they at first, and {65} for some time after
their settlement, regarded with suspicion and resentment.

Although the methods of warfare differed with the various tribes, the
general scheme of operations was usually dictated by the council of
chiefs, in whose hands the making of peace and war also lay.  The
campaign was generally prefaced by many eloquent harangues from the
leaders, who gradually wrought the braves into a fury of resentment
against their enemies.  The ceremony of the war-dance was then
proceeded with.  Ranged in a circle, the warriors executed a kind of
shuffle, occasionally slowly gyrating, with gestures and movements
obviously intended to imitate those of some bird or beast,[14] and
grunting, clucking, and snarling the while.  This ceremony was always
undertaken in full panoply of war-paint and feathers.  Subsequently the
braves betook themselves to the 'war-path.'  If the campaign was
undertaken in wooded country, they marched in single file.[15]  The
most minute attention was paid to their surroundings to prevent
ambuscade.  The slightest sound, even the snapping of a twig, was
sufficient to arrest their attention and cause them to halt.  Alert,
suspicious, and with every nerve strung to the highest point of
tension, they proceeded with such exceeding caution that to surprise
them was almost impossible.  Should a warrior become isolated from the
main body and be attacked and fatally wounded, he regarded it as
essential to the safety of his comrades to utter a piercing shriek,
which reverberated far through the forest ways and placed the rest of
the band on their guard.  This was known as the 'death-whoop.'


[14] Perhaps their personal or tribal totems.  See "Totemism," pp.
80-86.

[15] Hence the expression 'Indian file.'


When the campaign was undertaken in prairie or open {66} country, the
method usually employed was that of night attack; but if for any reason
this could not be successfully made, a large circle was drawn round the
place to be assailed, and gradually narrowed, the warriors who composed
it creeping and wriggling through the grass, and when sufficiently near
rising and rushing the camp or fort with wild war-cries.  If a stout
defence with firearms was anticipated, the warriors would surround the
objective of attack on horseback, and ride round and round the fated
position, gradually picking off the defenders with their rifles or
arrows as the opportunity presented itself.  Once the place was stormed
the Indian brave neither asked nor gave quarter, at least so far as its
male defenders were concerned.  These were at once slain and scalped,
the latter sanguinary process being effected by the brave placing his
knees on his enemy's shoulders, describing a rapid circle with his
knife in the centre of the victim's head, seizing the portion of the
scalp thus loosened, and quickly detaching it.

Schoolcraft, dealing with the subject of Indian warfare, a matter upon
which he was well qualified to speak, writes:[16]


[16] _Historical and Statistical Information respecting the Indian
Tribes_.


"Success in war is to the Indian the acme of glory, and to learn its
arts the object of his highest attainment.  The boys and youths acquire
the accomplishment at an early period of dancing the war-dance; and
although they are not permitted to join its fascinating circle till
they assume the envied rank of actual warriors, still their early
sports and mimic pastimes are imitations of its various movements and
postures.  The envied eagle's feather is the prize.  For this the
Indian's talent, subtlety, endurance, bravery, persevering fasts, and
what may be called religious penances and observances are made.


{67}

"The war-path is taken by youths at an early age.  That age may be
stated, for general comparison, to be sixteen; but, without respect to
exact time, it is always after the primary fast, during which the youth
chooses his personal guardian or _monedo_--an age when he first assumes
the duties of manhood.  It is the period of the assumption of the
three-pointed blanket, the true toga of the North American Indian.

"The whole force of public opinion, in our Indian communities, is
concentrated on this point; its early lodge teachings (such as the
recital of adventures of bravery), its dances, its religious rites, the
harangues of prominent actors, made at public assemblages (such as is
called 'striking the post'), all, in fact, that serves to awaken and
fire ambition in the mind of the savage, is clustered about the idea of
future distinction in war.

"... The Indian has but one prime honour to grasp; it is triumph in the
war-path; it is rushing upon his enemy, tearing the scalp reeking from
his head, and then uttering his terrific _sa-sa-kuon_ (death-whoop).
For this crowning act he is permitted to mount the honoured feather of
the war-eagle--the king of carnivorous birds.  By this mark he is
publicly known, and his honours recognized by all his tribe, and by the
surrounding tribes whose customs assimilate.

"When the scalp of an enemy has been won, very great pains are taken to
exhibit it.  For this purpose it is stretched on a hoop and mounted on
a pole.  The inner part is painted red, and the hair adjusted to hang
in its natural manner.  If it be the scalp of a male, eagle's feathers
are attached to denote _that_ fact.  If a female, a comb or scissors is
hung on the frame.  In this condition it is placed in the hands of an
old woman, who bears it about in the scalp-dance, while opprobrious
epithets are uttered against the tribe from which it was {68} taken.
Amidst these wild rejoicings the war-cry is vociferated, and the
general sentiment with old and young is: 'Thus shall it be done to our
enemies.'

"The feather of the eagle is the highest honour that a warrior can
wear, and a very extravagant sum is sometimes given to procure one.
The value of a horse has been known to be paid.  The mode in which a
feather is to be cut and worn is important to be noticed.

"The scale of honour with the several tribes may vary, but the
essential features are the same.  Among the Dakota tribes an eagle's
feather with a red spot denotes that the wearer has killed an enemy, a
notch cut in it and edges of the feather painted red indicates that the
throat of an enemy has been cut.  Small consecutive notches on the
front side of the feather, without paint, denote that the wearer is the
third person that has touched the dead body; both edges notched, that
he is the fourth person who has touched it; and the feather partly
denuded that he is the fifth person that has touched the slain.

"On the blanket or buffalo robe worn by the Dakota Indian a red or
black hand is often seen painted.  The red hand indicates that the
wearer has been wounded by his enemy, the black hand that he has slain
his enemy.

"The warlike tribe of the Chippeways, on the sources of the
Mississippi, who, from a national act in their history, bear the
distinctive name of Pillagers, award a successful warrior who shoots
down and scalps his enemy three feathers; and for the still more
dangerous act of taking a wounded prisoner on the field, five--for they
conceive that a wounded enemy is desperate, and will generally reserve
his fire for a last act of vengeance, if he die the moment after.
Those of the war-party who come up immediately and strike the {69}
enemy, so as to get marks of blood on their weapons, receive two
feathers; for it is customary for as many as can to perform this
act....  Those who have been of the war-party, and merely _see_ the
fight, although they may have no blood-marks of which to boast as
honours, and may even have lacked promptness in following the leader
closely, are yet allowed to mount one feather.  These honours are
publicly awarded; no one dares to assume them without authority, and
there are instances where the feathers falsely assumed have been pulled
violently from their heads in a public assemblage of the Indians.  They
never, however, blame each other for personal acts denoting cowardice
or any species of timidity while on the war-path, hoping by this
elevated course to encourage the young men to do better on another
occasion.

"All war-parties consist of volunteers.  The leader, or war-captain,
who attempts to raise one must have some reputation to start on.  His
appeals, at the assemblages for dancing the preliminary war-dance, are
to the principles of bravery and nationality.  They are brief and to
the point.  He is careful to be thought to act under the guidance of
the Great Spirit, of whose secret will he affects to be apprised in
dreams, or by some rites.

"The principle of enlistment is sufficiently well preserved.  For this
purpose, the leader who proposes to raise the war-party takes the
war-club in his hands, smeared with vermilion, to symbolize blood, and
begins his war-song.  I have witnessed several such scenes.  The songs
are brief, wild repetitions of sentiments of heroic deeds, or
incitements to patriotic or military ardour.  They are accompanied by
the drum and rattle, and by the voice of one or more choristers.  They
are repeated slowly, sententiously, and with a measured {70} cadence,
to which the most exact time is kept.  The warrior stamps the ground as
if he could shake the universe.  His language is often highly
figurative, and he deals with the machinery of the clouds, the flight
of carnivorous birds, and the influence of spiritual agencies, as if
the region of space were at his command.  He imagines his voice to be
heard in the clouds; and while he stamps the ground with well-feigned
fury, he fancies himself to take hold of the 'circle of the sky' with
his hands.  Every few moments he stops abruptly in his circular path,
and utters the piercing war-cry.

"He must be a cold listener who can sit unmoved by these appeals.  The
ideas thrown out succeed each other with the impetuosity of a torrent.
They are suggestive of heroic frames of mind, of strong will, of
burning sentiment.

  "'Hear my voice, ye warlike birds!
  I prepare a feast for you to batten on;
  I see you cross the enemy's lines;
  Like you I shall go.
  I wish the swiftness of your wings;
  I wish the vengeance of your claws;
  I muster my friends;
  I follow your flight.
  Ho, ye young men that are warriors,
  Look with wrath on the battlefield!'


"Each warrior that rises and joins the war-dance thereby becomes a
volunteer for the trip.  He arms and equips himself; he provides his
own sustenance; and when he steps out into the ring and dances, he
chants his own song, and is greeted with redoubling yells.  These
ceremonies are tantamount to 'enlistment,' and no young man who thus
comes forward can honourably withdraw.

"The sentiments of the following song were uttered by the celebrated
Wabojeeg, as the leader of the {71} Chippeways, after a victory over
the combined Sioux and Sauks and Foxes, at the Falls of St. Croix,
during the latter part of the seventeenth century:

  I

  "'Hear my voice, ye heroes!
  On that day when our warriors sprang
  With shouts on the dastardly foe,
  Just vengeance my heart burned to take
  On the cruel and treacherous breed,
      The Bwoin--the Fox--the Sauk.

  II

  "'And here, on my breast, have I bled!
  See--see! my battle scars!
  Ye mountains, tremble at my yell!
      I strike for life.

  III

  "'But who are my foes?  They shall die,
  They shall fly o'er the plains like a fox;
  They shall shake like a leaf in the storm.
  Perfidious dogs! they roast our sons with fire!

  IV

  "'Five winters in hunting we'll spend,
  While mourning our warriors slain,
  Till our youth grown to men
  For the battle-path trained,
  Our days like our fathers we'll end.

  V

  "'Ye are dead, noble men! ye are gone,
  My brother--my fellow--my friend!
  On the death-path where brave men must go
  But we live to revenge you!  We haste
  To die as our forefathers died.'


"In 1824, Bwoinais, a Chippeway warrior of Lake Superior, repeated to
me, with the appropriate tunes, the following war-songs, which had been
uttered {72} during the existing war between that nation and the
Dakotas:

  I

  "'Oshawanung undossewug
  Penasewug ka baimwaidungig.'
  [From the south--they come, the warlike birds--
  Hark! to their passing screams.]

  II

  "'Todotobi penaise
  Ka dow Wiawwiaun.'
  [I wish to have the body of the fiercest bird,
  As swift--as cruel--as strong.]

  III

  "'Ne wawaibena, neowai
  Kagait ne minwaindum
  Nebunaikumig tshebaibewishenaun.'
  [I cast my body to the chance of battle.
  Full happy am I, to lie on the field--
  On the field over the enemy's line.]"



The Indian Wife and Mother

The position of women among the North American Indians is distinctly
favourable, when the general circumstances of their environment are
considered.  As with most barbarian people, the main burden of the work
of the community falls upon them.  But in most cases the bulk of the
food-supply is provided by the men, who have often to face long and
arduous hunting expeditions in the search for provender.  The labour of
planting and digging seed, of hoeing, harvesting, and storing crops, is
invariably borne by the women.  In the more accessible Indian territory
of North America, however, the practice of agriculture is falling into
desuetude, and the aborigines are becoming accustomed {73} to rely to a
great extent on a supply of cereals from outside sources.

In the art of weaving Indian women were and are extremely skilful.  In
the southern regions the Hopi women have woven cotton garments from
time immemorial.

Among the various tribes the institution of marriage greatly depends
for its circumstances upon the system of totemism, a custom which will
be found fully described in the chapter which deals with the mythology
of the Red Race.  This system places a taboo upon marriages between
members of the same clan or other division of a tribe.  The nature of
the ceremony itself differs with locality and race.  Among the Plains
Indians polygamy was common, and the essential feature of the ceremony
was the presentation of gifts to the bride's father.  In some tribes
the husband had absolute power, and separation and divorce were common.
But other Plains people were free from the purchase system, and the
wishes of their women were consulted.  East of the Mississippi the
Iroquoian, Algonquian (except in the north and west), and Muskhogean
tribes retained descent of name and property in the female line.
Exchange of gifts preceded marriage with these peoples.  Among the
Hurons a council of mothers arranged the unions of the members of the
tribe.  Monogamy, on the whole, prevailed throughout the continent;
and, generally speaking, the marriage bond was regarded rather loosely.



Indian Child-Life

One of the most pleasing features in Indian life is the great affection
and solicitude bestowed by the parents upon their children.  As a close
student of Indian custom and habit avers, "The relation of {74} parent
to child brings out all the highest traits of Indian character."
Withal, infant mortality is extraordinarily high, owing to the lack of
sanitary measures.  The father prepares the wooden cradle which is to
be the infant's portable bed until it is able to walk.  The _papoose_
has first a child-name, which later gives place to the appellation
which it will use through life.  Children of both sexes have toys and
games, the boys amusing themselves with riding and marksmanship, while
the girls play with dolls and imitate their mothers 'keeping wigwam.'
In warm weather a great deal of the children's time is spent in
swimming and paddling.  They are exceedingly fond of pets, particularly
puppies, which they frequently dress and carry upon their backs like
babies.  Among some of the southern peoples small figures representing
the various tribal deities are distributed as dolls to the children at
certain ceremonies, and the sacred traditions of the race are thus
impressed upon them in tangible form.  It is a mistake to think that
the Indian child receives no higher instruction.  This, however, is
effected by moral suasion alone, and physical punishment is extremely
rare.  Great good-humour prevails among the children, and fighting and
quarrelling are practically unknown.

At about fifteen years of age the Indian boy undertakes a solitary fast
and vigil, during which his totem or medicine spirit is supposed to
instruct him regarding his future career.  At about thirteen years of
age the girl undergoes a like test, which signalizes her entrance into
womanhood.

[Illustration: Adventure with a Totem]

Adventure with a Totem

An account of the manner in which a young Indian beheld his totem
states that the lad's father sent him to a mountain-top to look for
Utonagan, the female {75} guardian spirit of his ancestors.  At noon,
on his arrival at the mountain, he heard the howls of the totem spirit,
and commenced to ascend the slope, chilled by fear as the yells grew
louder.  He climbed a tree, and still heard the cries, and the rustle
of the spirit in the branches below.  Then terror overcame him, and he
fled.  Utonagan pursued him.  She gained upon him, howling so that his
knees gave way beneath him and he might not turn.  Then he bethought
him of one of his guardian spirits, and, with a fresh access of
courage, he left his pursuer far behind.  He cast away his blanket;
Utonagan reached it, and, after snuffing at it, took up the chase once
more.  Then he thought of his guardian spirit the wolf, and again new
strength came to him.  Still in great terror, he looked back.  Utonagan
followed with a wolf-like lope.  Then he thought of his guardian spirit
the bitch, and once more he gained ground.  At length, exhausted by his
exertions, he sank to the earth in a fainting condition, and fell
asleep.  Through the eyes of sleep he saw the spirit as a wolf.  She
said to him: "I am she whom your family and the Indians call Utonagan.
You are dear to me.  Look at me, Indian."  He looked, and lost his
sense of fear.  When he awoke the sun was high in the sky.  He bathed
in the creek and returned home.



An Indian Girl's Vigil

Another story is told of an Indian girl's vigil.  Catherine Wabose,
when about thirteen years of age, left her mother's lodge and built a
small one for herself.  After a fast of four days she was visited by
her mother, who gave her a little snow-water to drink.  On the eve of
the sixth day, while still fasting, she was conscious of a superhuman
voice, which invited {76} her to walk along a shining path, which led
forward and upward.  There she first met the 'Everlasting Standing
Woman,' who gave her her 'supernatural' name.  She next met the 'Little
Man Spirit,' who told her that his name would be the name of her first
son.  She was next addressed by the 'Bright Blue Sky,' who endowed her
with the gift of life.  She was then encircled by bright points of
light and by sharp, painless instruments, but, mounting upon a
fish-like animal, she swam through the air back to her lodge.  On the
sixth day she experienced a repetition of the vision.  On the seventh
day she was fed with a little pounded corn in snow-water.  After the
seventh day she beheld a large round object like a stone descend from
the sky and enter the lodge.  It conferred upon her the gift of
prophecy, and by virtue of this she assumed the rank of a prophetess
upon her return to the tribe.

It is not difficult to suppose that the minds of these unfortunate
children were temporarily deranged by the sustained fasts they had been
forced to undertake.



Picture-Writing

Most of the tribes of North America had evolved a rude system of
picture-writing.  This consisted, for the most part, of figures of
natural objects connected by symbols having arbitrary or fixed
meanings.  Thus the system was both ideographic and pictographic; that
is, it represented to some extent abstract ideas as well as concrete
objects.  These scripts possessed so many arbitrary characters, and
again so many symbols which possessed different meanings under varying
circumstances, that to interpret them is a task of the greatest
complexity.  They were usually employed in the compilation of the
seasonal calendars, and {77} sometimes the records of the tribe were
preserved by their means.

[Illustration: Indian Picture Writing: A Petroglyph in Nebraska.  By
permission of the Bureau of American Ethnology]

Perhaps the best known specimen of Indian script is the Dakota
'Lone-dog Winter-count,' supposed to have been painted originally on a
buffalo-robe.  It is said to be a chronicle covering a period of
seventy-one years from the beginning of the nineteenth century.
Similar chronicles are the _Wallum-Olum_, which are painted records of
the Leni-Lenâpé, an Algonquian people, and the calendar history of the
Kiowa.  The former consists of several series, one of which records the
doings of the tribes down to the time of the arrival of the European
colonists at the beginning of the seventeenth century.  We append an
extract from the _Wallum-Olum_ as a specimen of genuine aboriginal
composition.  The translation is that made by the late Professor
Brinton.

After the rushing waters had subsided, the Lenâpé of the Turtle were
close together, in hollow houses, living together there.

It freezes where they abode: it snows where they abode: it storms where
they abode: it is cold where they abode.

At this northern place, they speak favourably of mild, cool lands, with
many deer and buffaloes.

As they journeyed, some being strong, some rich, they separated into
house-builders and hunters:

The strongest, the most united, the purest were the hunters.

The hunters showed themselves at the north, at the east, at the south,
at the west.

In that ancient country, in that northern country, in that Turtle
country, the best of Lenâpé were the Turtle-men.  [That is, probably,
men of the Turtle totem.]

All the cabin fires of that land were disquieted, and all said to their
priest: "Let us go."

{78}

To the Snake land, to the east, they went forth, going away, earnestly
grieving.

Split asunder, weak, trembling, their land burned: they went, torn and
broken, to the Snake Island.

Those from the north being free, without care, went forth from the land
of snow, in different directions.

The fathers of the Bald Eagle and the White Wolf remain along the sea,
rich in fish and strength.

Floating up the streams in their canoes, our fathers were rich, they
were in the light, when they were at those islands.

Head Beaver and Big Bird said: "Let us go to Snake Island," they said.

All say they will go along to destroy all the land.

  Those of the north agreed,
  Those of the east agreed.
  Over the water, the frozen sea,
  They went to enjoy it.

  On the wonderful slippery water,
  On the stone-hard water all went,
  On the great tidal sea, the muscle-bearing sea.

  Ten thousand at night,
  All in one night,
  To the Snake Island, to the east, at night,
  They walk and walk, all of them.

  The men from the north, the east, the south:
  The Eagle clan, the Beaver clan, the Wolf clan,
  The best men, the rich men, the head men,
  Those with wives, those with daughters, those with dogs.

  They all come, they tarry at the land of the spruce-pines:
  Those from the west come with hesitation,
  Esteeming highly their old home at the Turtle land.

There was no rain, and no corn, so they moved farther seaward.

At the place of caves, in the Buffalo land, they at last had food, on a
pleasant plain.

[Illustration: The Lenâpé come to the Place of Caves]


{79}

Modern Education and Culture

After the establishment of the United States Government a number of
Christian and lay bodies undertook the education and enlightenment of
the aborigines.  Until 1870 all Government aid for this object passed
through the hands of missionaries, but in 1775 [Transcriber's note:
1875?] a committee on Indian affairs had been appointed by Congress,
which voted funds to support Indian students at Dartmouth and Princeton
Colleges.  Many day-schools were provided for the Indians, and these
aimed at fitting them for citizenship by inculcating in them the social
manners and ethical ideas of the whites.  The school established by
Captain R. H. Pratt at Carlisle, Pa., for the purpose of educating
Indian boys and girls has turned out many useful members of society.
About 100 students receive higher instruction in Hampton Institute.
There are now 253 Government schools for the education of Indian youth,
involving an annual expenditure of five million dollars, and the
patient efforts of the United States Government may be said to be
crowned with triumph and success when the list of cultured Indian men
and women who have attended these seminaries is perused.  Many of these
have achieved conspicuous success in industrial pursuits and in the
higher walks of life.




{80}

CHAPTER II: THE MYTHOLOGIES OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS


Animism

All mythological systems spring from the same fundamental basis.  The
gods are the children of reverence and necessity.  But their genealogy
stretches still farther back.  Savage man, unable to distinguish
between the animate and inanimate, imagines every surrounding object to
be, like himself, instinct with life.  Trees, the winds, the river
(which he names "the Long Person"), all possess life and consciousness
in his eyes.  The trees moan and rustle, therefore they speak, or are,
perchance, the dwelling-place of powerful spirits.  The winds are full
of words, sighings, warnings, threats, the noises, without doubt, of
wandering powers, friendly or unfriendly beings.  The water moves,
articulates, prophesies, as, for example, did the Peruvian Rimac and
Ipurimac--'the Oracles,' 'the Prophesiers.' Even abstract qualities
were supposed to possess the attributes of living things.  Light and
darkness, heat and cold, were regarded as active and alert agencies.
The sky was looked upon as the All-Father from whose co-operation with
the Mother Earth all living things had sprung.  This condition of
belief is known as 'animism.'



Totemism

If inanimate objects and natural phenomena were endowed by savage
imagination with the qualities of life and thought, the creatures of
the animal world were placed upon a still higher level.  The Indian,
brought into contact with the denizens of the forest and prairie,
conceived a high opinion of their qualities and instinctive abilities.
He observed that they {81} possessed greater cunning in forest-craft
than himself, that their hunting instinct was much more sure, that they
seldom suffered from lack of provisions, that they were more swift of
foot.  In short, he considered them to be his superiors in those
faculties which he most coveted and admired.  Various human attributes
and characteristics became personified and even exaggerated in some of
his neighbours of wood and plain.  The fox was proverbial for craft,
the wild cat for stealth, the bear for a wrong-headed stupidity, the
owl for a cryptic wisdom, the deer for swiftness.  In each of these
attributes the several animals to whom they belonged appeared to the
savage as more gifted than himself, and so deeply was he influenced by
this seeming superiority that if he coveted a certain quality he would
place himself under the protection of the animal or bird which
symbolized it.  Again, if a tribe or clan possessed any special
characteristic, such as fierceness or cunning, it was usually called by
its neighbours after the bird or beast which symbolized its character.
A tribe would learn its nickname from captives taken in war; or it
might even bestow such an appellation upon itself.  After the lapse of
a few generations the members of a tribe would regard the animal whose
qualities they were supposed to possess as their direct ancestor, and
would consider that all the members of his species were their
blood-relations.  This belief is known as totemism, and its adoption
was the means of laying the foundation of a widespread system of tribal
rule and custom, by which marriage and many of the affairs of life were
and are wholly governed.  Probably all European and Asiatic peoples
have passed through this stage, and its remains are to be found deeply
embedded in our present social system.

{82}

Totemic Law and Custom

Few generations would elapse before the sense of ancestral devotion to
the totem or eponymous forefather of the tribe would become so strong
as to be exalted into a fully developed system of worship of him as a
deity.  That the totem develops into the god is proved by the animal
likeness and attributes of many deities in lands widely separate.  It
accounts for the jackal- and ibis-headed gods of Egypt, the bull-like
deities of Assyria, the bestial gods of Hindustan--possibly even for
the owl which accompanied the Grecian Pallas, for does not Homer speak
of her as 'owl-eyed'?  May not this goddess have developed from an owl
totem, and may not the attendant bird of night which perches on her
shoulder have been permitted to remain as a sop to her devotees in her
more ancient form, who objected to her portrayal as a human being, and
desired that some reminder of her former shape might be preserved?
That our British ancestors possessed a totemic system is undoubted.
Were not the clan Chattan of the Scottish Highlands the "sons of the
cat"?  In the _Dean of Lismores Book_ we read of a tribe included under
the "sons to the king of Rualay" one battalion of whom was
'cat-headed,' or wore the totem crest of the cat.  The swine-gods and
other animal deities possessed by the British Celts assist this theory,
as do the remains of many folk-customs in England and Scotland.  Our
crests are but so many family symbols which have come down to us from
the distant days when our forefathers painted them upon their shields
or wore them upon their helmets as the badge of their tribe, and thus
of its supposed beast-progenitor or protector.

As has been said, a vast and intricate system of tribal {83} law and
custom arose from the adoption of totemism.  The animal from which the
tribe took its name might not be killed or eaten, because of its
blood-kinship with the clan.  Descent from this ancestor postulated
kinship between the various members of the tribe, male and female;
therefore the female members were not eligible for marriage with the
males, who had perforce to seek for wives elsewhere.  This often led to
the partial adoption of another tribe or family in the vicinity, and of
its totem, in order that a suitable exchange of women might be made as
occasion required, and thus to the inclusion of two _gentes_ or
divisions within the tribe, each with its different totem-name, yet
each regarding itself as a division of the tribal family.  Thus a
member of the 'Fox' _gens_ might not marry a woman of his own division,
but must seek a bride from the 'Bears,' and similarly a 'Bear'
tribesman must find a wife from among the 'Foxes.'



Severity of Totemic Rule

The utmost severity attached to the observation of totemic law and
custom, to break which was regarded as a serious crime.  Indeed, no one
ever thought of infringing it, so powerful are habit and the force of
association.  It is not necessary to specify here the numerous customs
which may be regarded as the outcome of the totemic system, for many of
these have little in common with mythology proper.  It will suffice to
say that they were observed with a rigour beside which the rules of the
religions of civilized peoples appear lax and indulgent.  As this
system exercised such a powerful influence on Indian life and thought,
the following passage from the pen of a high authority on Indian
totemism may be quoted with advantage:[1]


[1] J. R. Swanton, in _Handbook of the North American Indians_.


{84}

"The native American Indian, holding peculiar self-centred views as to
the unity and continuity of all life and the consequent inevitable
interrelations of the several bodies and beings in nature, especially
of man to the beings and bodies of his experience and environment, to
whom were imputed by him various anthropomorphic attributes and
functions in addition to those naturally inherent in them, has
developed certain fundamentally important cults, based on those views,
that deeply affect his social, religious, and civil institutions.  One
of these doctrines is that persons and organizations of persons are one
and all under the protecting and fostering tutelage of some imaginary
being or spirit.  These tutelary or patron beings may be grouped, by
the mode and motive of their acquirement and their functions, into two
fairly well defined groups or classes: (1) those which protect
individuals only, and (2) those which protect organizations of persons.
But with these two classes of tutelary beings is not infrequently
confounded another class of protective imaginary beings, commonly
called fetishes, which are regarded as powerful spiritual allies of
their possessors.  Each of these several classes of guardian beings has
its own peculiar traditions, beliefs, and appropriate cult.  The modes
of the acquirement and the motives for the acquisition of these several
classes of guardian beings differ in some fundamental and essential
respects.  The exact method of acquiring the clan or gentile group
patrons or tutelaries is still an unsolved problem, although several
plausible theories have been advanced by astute students to explain the
probable mode of obtaining them.  With respect to the personal tutelary
and the fetish, the data are sufficiently clear and full to permit a
satisfactory description and definition of these two classes of
tutelary and auxiliary beings.  From the available data bearing {85} on
this subject, it would seem that much confusion regarding the use and
acquirement of personal and communal tutelaries or patron beings has
arisen by regarding certain social, political, and religious activities
as due primarily to the influence of these guardian deities, when in
fact those features were factors in the social organization on which
has been later imposed the cult of the patron or guardian spirit.
Exogamy, names and class names, and various taboos exist where 'totems'
and 'totemism,' the cults of the guardian spirits, do not exist.

"Some profess to regard the clan or gentile group patron or tutelary as
a mere development of the personal guardian, but from the available but
insufficient data bearing on the question it appears to be, in some of
its aspects, more closely connected in origin, or rather in the method
of its acquisition, with the fetish, the Iroquois _otchina ken'da_, 'an
effective agency of sorcery,' than with any form of the personal
tutelary.  This patron spirit of course concerns the group regarded as
a body, for with regard to each person of the group, the clan or
gentile guardian is inherited, or rather acquired by birth, and it may
not be changed at will.  On the other hand, the personal tutelary is
obtained through the rite of vision in a dream or a trance, and it must
be preserved at all hazards as one of the most precious possessions.
The fetish is acquired by personal choice, by purchase, or by
inheritance, or from some chance circumstance or emergency, and it can
be sold or discarded at the will of the possessor in most cases; the
exception is where a person has entered into a compact with some evil
spirit or being that, in consideration of human or other sacrifices in
its honour at stated periods, the said spirit undertakes to perform
certain obligations to this man or woman, and in default of which the
person forfeits his right to live.

{86}

"'Totemism' is a purely philosophical term which modern anthropological
literature has burdened with a great mass of needless controversial
speculation and opinion.  The doctrine and use of tutelary or patron
guardian spirits by individuals and by organized bodies of persons are
defined by Powell as 'a method of naming,' and as 'the doctrine and
system of naming.'  But the motive underlying the acquisition and use
of guardian or tutelary spirits, whether by an individual or by an
organized body of persons, is always the same--namely, to obtain
welfare and to avoid ill-fare.  So it appears to be erroneous to define
this cult as 'the doctrine and system of naming.'  It is rather the
recognition, exploitation, and adjustment of the imaginary mystic
relation of the individual or of the body of organized persons to the
postulated _orendas_, mystic powers, surrounding each of these units of
native society.  With but few exceptions, the recognized relation
between the clan or _gens_ and its patron deity is not one of descent
or source, but rather that of protection, guardianship, and support.
The relationship as to source between these two classes of superior
beings is not yet determined; so to avoid confusion in concepts, it is
better to use distinctive names for them, until their connexion, if
any, has been definitely ascertained: this question must not be
prejudged.  The hypothetic inclusion of these several classes in a
general one, branded with the rubric 'totem' or its equivalent, has led
to needless confusion.  The native tongues have separate names for
these objects, and until the native classification can be truthfully
shown to be erroneous it would seem to be advisable to designate them
by distinctive names.  Notwithstanding the great amount of study of the
literature of the social features of aboriginal American society, there
are many data {87} relative to this subject that have been overlooked
or disregarded."



Fetishism

Side by side with animism and totemism flourishes a third type of
primitive belief, known as 'fetishism.'  This word is derived from the
Portuguese _feitiço_, 'a charm,' 'something made by art,' and is
applied to any object, large or small, natural or artificial, regarded
as possessing consciousness, volition, and supernatural qualities, and
especially _orenda_, or magic power.

As has been said, the Indian intelligence regards all things, animals,
water, the earth, trees, stones, the heavenly bodies, even night and
day, and such properties as light and darkness, as possessing animation
and the power of volition.  It is, however, the general Indian belief
that many of these are under some spell or potent enchantment.  The
rocks and trees are confidently believed by the Indian to be the living
tombs of imprisoned spirits, resembling the dryads of Greek folk-lore,
so that it is not difficult for him to conceive an intelligence, more
or less potent, in any object, no matter how uncommon--indeed, the more
uncommon the greater the probability of its being the abode of some
powerful intelligence, incarcerated for revenge or some similar motive
by the spell of a mighty enchanter.

The fetish is, in short, a mascot--a luck-bringer.  The civilized
person who attaches a swastika or small charm to his watch-chain or her
bangle is unconsciously following in the footsteps of many pagan
ancestors; but with this difference, that the idea that 'luck' resides
in the trinket is weak in the civilized mind, whereas in the savage
belief the 'luck' resident in the fetish is a powerful and living
thing--an intelligence {88} which must be placated with prayer, feast,
and sacrifice.  Fetishes which lose their reputations as bringers of
good-fortune usually degenerate into mere amulets or talismanic
ornaments, and their places are taken by others.  The fetish differs
from the class of tutelary or 'household' gods in that it may be sold
or bartered, whereas tutelary or domestic deities are never to be
purchased, or even loaned.



Fetish Objects

Nearly all the belongings of a _shaman_, or medicine-man, are classed
as fetishes by the North American Indians.  These usually consist of
the skins of beasts, birds, and serpents, roots, bark, powder, and
numberless other objects.  But the fetish must be altogether divorced
from the idea of religion proper, with which it has little or no
connexion, being found side by side with religious phases of many
types.  The fetish may be a bone, a feather, an arrow-head, a stick,
carved or painted, a fossil, a tuft of hair, a necklace of fingers, a
stuffed skin, the hand of an enemy, anything which might be suggested
to the original possessor in a dream or a flight of imagination.  It is
sometimes fastened to the scalp-lock, to the dress, to the bridle,
concealed between the layers of a shield, or specially deposited in a
shrine in the wigwam.  The idea in the mind of the original maker is
usually symbolic, and is revealed only to one formally chosen as heir
to the magical possession, and pledged in his turn to a similar secrecy.

Notwithstanding that the cult of fetishism is not, strictly speaking, a
department of religious activity, a point exists at which the fetish
begins to evolve into a god.  This happens when the object survives the
test of experience and achieves a more than personal or {89} tribal
popularity.  Nevertheless the fetish partakes more of the nature of
those spirits which are subservient to man (for example, the Arabian
_jinn_) than of gods proper, and if it is prayed and sacrificed to on
occasion, the 'prayers' are rather of the nature of a magical
invocation, and the 'sacrifices' no more than would be accorded to any
other assisting agent.  Thus sharply must we differentiate between a
fetish or captive spirit and a god.  But it must be further borne in
mind that a fetish is not necessarily a piece of personal property.  It
may belong collectively to an entire community.  It is not necessarily
a small article, but may possess all the appearances of a full-blown
idol.  An idol, however, is the abode of a god--the image into which a
deity may materialize.  A fetish, on the other hand, is _the place of
imprisonment of a subservient spirit_, which cannot escape, and, if it
would gain the rank of godhead, must do so by a long series of
luck-bringing, or at least by the performance of a number of marvels of
a protective or fortune-making nature.  It is not unlikely that a
belief exists in the Indian mind that there are many wandering spirits
who, in return for food and other comforts, are willing to materialize
in the shape the savage provides for them, and to assist him in the
chase and other pursuits of life.



Apache Fetishes

Among the Athapascan Indians the Apaches, both male and female, wear
fetishes which they call _tzi-daltai_, manufactured from
lightning-riven wood, generally pine or cedar, or fir from the
mountains.  These are highly valued, and are never sold.  They are
shaved very thin, rudely carved in the semblance of the human form, and
decorated with incised lines representing the lightning.  They are
small in size, and few of them are painted.  {90} Bourke describes one
that an Apache chief carried about with him, which was made of a piece
of lath, unpainted, having a figure in yellow drawn upon it, with a
narrow black band and three snake's heads with white eyes.  It was
further decorated with pearl buttons and small eagle-down feathers.
The reverse and obverse were identical.

Many of the Apaches attached a piece of malachite to their guns and
bows to make them shoot accurately.  Bourke mentions a class of
fetishes which he terms 'phylacteries.'  These are pieces of buckskin
or other material upon which are inscribed certain characters or
symbols of a religious or 'medicine' nature, and they are worn attached
to the person who seeks benefit from them.  They differ from the
ordinary fetish in that they are concealed from the public gaze.  These
'phylacteries,' Bourke says, "themselves medicine," may be employed to
enwrap other 'medicine,' and "thus augment their own potentialities."
He describes several of these objects.  One worn by an Indian named
Ta-ul-tzu-je "was tightly rolled in at least half a mile of saddler's
silk, and when brought to light was found to consist of a small piece
of buckskin two inches square, upon which were drawn red and yellow
crooked lines, which represented the red and yellow snake.  Inside were
a piece of malachite and a small cross of lightning-riven pine, and two
very small perforated shells.  The cross they designated 'the black
mind.'"  Another 'phylactery' consisted of a tiny bag of hoddentin,
holding a small quartz crystal and four feathers of eagle-down.  This
charm, it was explained by an Indian, contained not merely the
'medicine' of the crystal and the eagle, but also that of the black
bear, the white lion, and the yellow snake.


{91}

Iroquoian Fetishes

Things that seem at all unusual are accepted by the Hurons, a tribe of
the Iroquois, as _oky_, or supernatural, and therefore it is accounted
lucky to find them.  In hunting, if they find a stone or other object
in the entrails of an animal they at once make a fetish of it.  Any
object of a peculiar shape they treasure for the same reason.  They
greatly fear that demons or evil spirits will purloin their fetishes,
which they esteem so highly as to propitiate them in feasts and invoke
them in song.  The highest type of fetish obtainable by a Huron was a
piece of the onniont, or great armoured serpent, a mythological animal
revered by many North American tribes.



Fetishism among the Algonquins

Hoffmann states that at the 'medicine' lodges of some Algonquian tribes
there are preserved fetishes or amulets worn above the elbows,
consisting of strands of bead-work, metal bands, or skunk skins, while
bracelets of shells, buckskin, or metal are also worn.  A great tribal
fetish of the Cheyenne was their 'medicine' arrow, which was taken from
them by the Pawnees in battle.  The head of this arrow projects from
the bag which contains it, and it is covered with delicate waved or
spiral lines, which denote its sacred character.  It was, indeed, the
palladium of the tribe.  A peculiar type of fetish consisted of a
mantle made from the skin of a deer and covered with feathers mixed
with headings.  It was made and used by the medicine-men as a mantle of
invisibility, or charmed covering to enable spies to traverse an
enemy's country in security.  In this instance the fetishistic power
depended upon the devices drawn upon the article.  The principal
fetishes among {92} the Hidatsa tribe of the Sioux are the skins of
foxes and wolves, the favourite worn fetish being the stripe from the
back of a wolf-skin with the tail hanging down the shoulders.  A slit
is made in the skin, through which the warrior puts his head, so that
the skin of the wolf's head hangs down upon his breast.  The most
common tribal fetishes of the Sioux are, or were, buffalo heads, the
neck-bones of which they preserve in the belief that the buffalo herds
will thereby be prevented from removing to too great a distance.  At
certain periods they perform a ceremony with these bones, which
consists in taking a potsherd filled with embers, throwing
sweet-smelling grease upon it, and fumigating the bones with the smoke.
There are certain trees and stones which are regarded as fetishes.  To
these offerings of red cloth, red paint, and other articles are made.
Each individual has his personal fetish, and it is carried in all
hunting and warlike excursions.  It usually consists of a head, claws,
stuffed skin, or other representative feature of the fetish animal.
Even the horses are provided with fetishes, in the shape of a deer's
horn, to ensure their swiftness.  The rodent teeth of the beaver are
regarded as potent charms, and are worn by little girls round their
necks to make them industrious.

At Sikyatki, in Arizona, a territorial nucleus of the Hopi Indians, Mr.
Fewkes had opportunities of inspecting many interesting fetish forms.
A number of these discovered in native graves were pebbles with a
polished surface, or having a fancied resemblance to some animal shape.
Many of the personal fetishes of the Hopi consist of fossils, some of
which attain the rank of tribal fetishes and are wrapped up in sacred
bundles, which are highly venerated.  In one grave was found a single
large fetish in the shape of a mountain {93} lion, made of sandstone,
in which legs, ears, tail, and eyes are represented, the mouth still
showing the red pigment with which it had been coloured.  This is
almost identical with some fetishes used by the Hopi at the present day.



Totemism and Fetishism Meet

Fetishism among the Zuñi Indians of the south arose from an idea they
entertained that they were kin with animals; in other words, their
fetishes were totemistic.  Totemism and fetishism were by no means
incompatible with one another, but often flourished side by side.
Fetishism of the Zuñi description is, indeed, the natural concomitant
of a totemic system.  Zuñi fetishes are usually concretions of lime or
objects in which a natural resemblance to animals has been heightened
by artificial means.  Ancient fetishes are much valued by these people,
and are often found by them in the vicinity of villages inhabited by
their ancestors, and as tribal possessions are handed down from one
generation to another.  The medicine-men believe them to be the actual
petrifactions of the animals they represent.



The Sun-Children

The Zuñi philosophy of the fetish is given in the "Tale of the Two
Sun-Children" as follows: "Now that the surface of the earth was
hardened even the animals of prey, powerful and like the fathers [gods]
themselves, would have devoured the children of men, and the two
thought it was not well that they should all be permitted to live, for,
said they, 'Alike the children of men and the children of the animals
of prey multiply themselves.  The animals of prey are provided with
talons and teeth; men are but poor, the finished beings of earth,
therefore the weaker.' {94} Whenever they came across the pathway of
one of these animals, were he a great mountain lion or but a mere mole,
they struck him with the fire of lightning which they carried on their
magic shields.  _Thlu!_ and instantly he was shrivelled and turned into
stone.  Then said they to the animals that they had changed into stone,
'That ye may not be evil unto man, but that ye may be a great good unto
them, have we changed you into rock everlasting.  By the magic breath
of prey, by the heart that shall endure for ever within you, shall ye
be made to serve instead of to devour mankind.'  Thus was the surface
of the earth hardened and scorched, and many of all kinds of beings
changed to stone.  Thus, too, it happens that we find here and there
throughout the world their forms, sometimes large, like the beings
themselves, sometimes shrivelled and distorted, and we often see among
the rocks the forms of many beings that live no longer, which shows us
that all was different in the 'days of the new.'  Of these
petrifactions, which are, of course, mere concretions or strangely
shaped rock-forms, the Zuñi say: 'Whomsoever of us may be met with the
light of such great good-fortune may see them, and should treasure them
for the sake of the sacred [magic] power which was given them in the
days of the new.'"[2]


[2] Cushing's _Zuñi Fetiches_ (1883).



The Prey-Gods

This tradition furnishes additional evidence relative to the preceding
statement, and is supposed to enlighten the Zuñi Indian as to wherein
lies the power of fetishes.  It is thought that the hearts of the great
animals of prey are infused with a 'medicinal' or magic influence over
the hearts of the animals they prey upon, and {95} that they overcome
them with their breath, piercing their hearts and quite numbing them.
Moreover, their roar is fatal to the senses of the lower beasts.  The
mountain lion absorbs the blood of the game animals, therefore he
possesses their acute senses.  Again, those powers, as derived from his
heart, are preserved in his fetish, since his heart still lives, even
although his body be changed to stone.  It happens, therefore, that the
use of these fetishes is chiefly connected with the chase.  But there
are exceptions.  The great animals of the chase, although fetishistic,
are also regarded as supernatural beings, the mythological position of
which is absolutely defined.  In the City of the Mists lives
Po-shai-an-K'ia, father of the 'medicine' societies, a culture-hero
deity, whose abode is guarded by six beings known as the 'Prey-Gods,'
and it is their counterfeit presentments that are made use of as
fetishes.  To the north of the City of the Mists dwells the Mountain
Lion prey-god, to the west the Bear, to the south the Badger, to the
east the Wolf, above the Eagle, below the Mole.  These animals possess
not only the guardianship of the six regions, but also the mastership
of the 'medicine' or magic powers which emanate from them.  They are
the mediators between Po-shai-an-K'ia and man.  The prey-gods, as
'Makers of the Path of Life,' are given high rank among the gods, but
notwithstanding this their fetishes are "held as in captivity" by the
priests of the various 'medicine' orders, and greatly venerated by them
as mediators between themselves and the animals they represent.  In
this character they are exhorted with elaborate prayers, rituals, and
ceremonials, and sometimes placated with sacrifices of the prey-gods of
the hunt (_we-ma-a-ha-i_).  Their special priests are the members of
the Great Coyote {96} People--that is, they consist of eleven members
of the Eagle and Coyote clans and of the Prey Brothers priesthood.
These prey-gods appear to be almost unique, and may be indicated as an
instance of fetishism becoming allied with religious belief.  They
depict, with two exceptions, the same species of prey animals as those
supposed to guard the six regions, the exceptions being the coyote and
the wild cat.  These six prey animals are subdivided into six
varieties.  They are, strictly speaking, the property of the priests,
and members and priests of the sacred societies are required to deposit
their fetishes, when not in use, with the Keeper of the Medicine of the
Deer.  These 'medicines' or memberships alone can perfect the shape of
the fetishes and worship them.



The Council of Fetishes

The Day of the Council of the Fetishes takes place a little before or
after the winter solstice or national New Year.  The fetishes are taken
from their places of deposit, and arranged according to species and
colour in the form of a symbolic altar, quadrupeds being placed upright
and birds suspended from the roof.  The fetishes are prayed to, and
prayer-meal is scattered over them.  Chants are intoned, and a dance
performed in which the cries of the fetish beasts are imitated.  A
prayer with responses follows.  Finally all assemble round the altar
and repeat the great invocation.



The Fetish in Hunting

The use of fetishes in hunting among the Zuñi is extremely curious and
involved in its nature.  The hunter goes to the house of the Deer
Medicine, where the vessel containing the fetish is brought out and
placed before him.  He sprinkles meal over the sacred {97} vessel in
the direction in which he intends to hunt, chooses a fetish from it,
and presses it to his lips with an inspiration.  He then places the
fetish in a buckskin bag over his heart.  Proceeding to the hunt, he
deposits a spider-knot of yucca leaves where an animal has rested,
imitates its cry, and is supposed by this means to confine its
movements within a narrow circle.  He then inspires deeply from the
nostrils of the fetish, as though inhaling the magic breath of the god
of prey, and then puffs the breath long and loudly in the direction
whence the beast's tracks trend, in the belief that the breath he has
borrowed from the prey-god will stiffen the limbs of the animal he
hunts.  When the beast is caught and killed he inhales its suspiring
breath, which he breathes into the nostrils of the fetish.  He then
dips the fetish in the blood of the slain quarry, sips the blood
himself, and devours the liver, in order that he may partake of the
animal's qualities.  The fetish is then placed in the sun to dry, and
lastly replaced in the buckskin pouch with a blessing, afterward being
duly returned to the Keeper of the Deer Medicine.



Indian Theology

The late Professor Brinton, writing on the Indian attitude toward the
eternal verities, says:[3]


[3] _Myths of the New World_.


"Nature, to the heathen, is no harmonious whole swayed by eternal
principles, but a chaos of causeless effects, the meaningless play of
capricious ghosts.  He investigates not, because he doubts not.  All
events are to him miracles.  Therefore his faith knows no bounds, and
those who teach him that doubt is sinful must contemplate him with
admiration....

"Natural religions rarely offer more than this negative opposition to
reason.  They are tolerant to {98} a degree.  The savage, void of any
clear conception of a supreme deity, sets up no claim that his is the
only true church.  If he is conquered in battle he imagines that it is
owing to the inferiority of his own gods to those of his victor, and he
rarely, therefore, requires any other reasons to make him a convert.

"In this view of the relative powers of deities lay a potent corrective
to the doctrine that the fate of man was dependent on the caprices of
the gods.  For no belief was more universal than that which assigned to
each individual a guardian spirit.  This invisible monitor was an
ever-present help in trouble.  He suggested expedients, gave advice and
warning in dreams, protected in danger, and stood ready to foil the
machinations of enemies, divine or human.

"With unlimited faith in this protector, attributing to him the devices
suggested by his own quick wits and the fortunate chances of life, the
savage escaped the oppressive thought that he was the slave of demoniac
forces, and dared the dangers of the forest and the war-path without
anxiety.

"By far the darkest side of such a religion is that which it presents
to morality.  The religious sense is by no means the voice of
conscience.  The Takahli Indian when sick makes a full and free
confession of sins, but a murder, however unnatural and unprovoked, he
does not mention, not counting it a crime.  Scenes of licentiousness
were approved and sustained throughout the continent as acts of
worship; maidenhood was in many parts freely offered up or claimed by
the priests as a right; in Central America twins were slain for
religious motives; human sacrifice was common throughout the tropics,
and was not unusual in higher latitudes; cannibalism was often
enjoined; and in Peru, Florida, and Central America it was not {99}
uncommon for parents to slay their own children at the behest of a
priest.

"The philosophical moralist contemplating such spectacles has thought
to recognize in them one consoling trait.  All history, it has been
said, shows man living under an irritated God, and seeking to appease
him by sacrifice of blood; the essence of all religion, it has been
added, lies in that of which sacrifice is the symbol--namely, in the
offering up of self, in the rendering up of our will to the will of God.

"But sacrifice, when not a token of gratitude, cannot be thus
explained.  It is not a rendering up, but a _substitution_ of our will
for God's will.  A deity is angered by neglect of his dues; he will
revenge, certainly, terribly, we know not how or when.  But as
punishment is all he desires, if we punish ourselves he will be
satisfied; and far better is such self-inflicted torture than a fearful
looking-for of judgment to come.  Craven fear, not without some dim
sense of the implacability of nature's laws, is at its roots.

"Looking only at this side of religion, the ancient philosopher averred
that the gods existed solely in the apprehensions of their votaries,
and the moderns have asserted that 'fear is the father of religion,
love her late-born daughter'; that 'the first form of religious belief
is nothing else but a horror of the unknown,' and that 'no natural
religion appears to have been able to develop from a germ within itself
anything whatever of real advantage to civilization.'

"Looking around for other standards wherewith to measure the progress
of the knowledge of divinity in the New World, _prayer_ suggests itself
as one of the least deceptive.  'Prayer,' to quote the words of
Novalis, 'is in religion what thought is in philosophy.  The religious
sense prays, as the reason thinks.'  Guizot, {100} carrying the
analysis farther, thinks that it is prompted by a painful conviction of
the inability of our will to conform to the dictates of reason.

"Originally it was connected with the belief that divine caprice, not
divine law, governs the universe, and that material benefits rather
than spiritual gifts are to be desired.  The gradual recognition of its
limitations and proper objects marks religious advancement.  The Lord's
Prayer contains seven petitions, only one of which is for a temporal
advantage, and it the least that can be asked for.

"What immeasurable interval between it and the prayer of the Nootka
Indian preparing for war:

"'Great Quahootze, let me live, not be sick, find the enemy, not fear
him, find him asleep, and kill a great many of him.'

"Or, again, between it and a petition of a Huron to a local god, heard
by Father Brébeuf:

"'Oki, thou who liveth in this spot, I offer thee tobacco.  Help us,
save us from shipwreck, defend us from our enemies, give us a good
trade and bring us back safe and sound to our villages.'

"This is a fair specimen of the supplications of the lowest religions.
Another equally authentic is given by Father Allouez.  In 1670 he
penetrated to an outlying Algonkin village, never before visited by a
white man.  The inhabitants, startled by his pale face and long black
gown, took him for a divinity.  They invited him to the council lodge,
a circle of old men gathered round him, and one of them, approaching
him with a double handful of tobacco, thus addressed him, the others
grunting approval:

"'This indeed is well, Blackrobe, that thou dost visit us.  Have mercy
upon us.  Thou art a Manito.  We give thee to smoke.

{101}

"'The Naudowessies and Iroquois are devouring us.  Have mercy upon us.

"'We are often sick; our children die; we are hungry.  Have mercy upon
us.  Hear me, O Manito, I give thee to smoke.

"'Let the earth yield us corn; the rivers give us fish; sickness not
slay us; nor hunger so torment us.  Hear us, O Manito, we give thee to
smoke.'

"In this rude but touching petition, wrung from the heart of a
miserable people, nothing but their wretchedness is visible.  Not the
faintest trace of an aspiration for spiritual enlightenment cheers the
eye of the philanthropist, not the remotest conception that through
suffering we are purified can be detected."



The Indian Idea of God

The mythologies of the several stocks of the Red Race differ widely in
conception and detail, and this has led many hasty investigators to
form the conclusion that they were therefore of separate origin.  But
careful study has proved that they accord with all great mythological
systems in their fundamental principles, and therefore with each other.
The idea of God, often strange and grotesque perhaps, was nevertheless
powerfully expressed in the Indian mythologies.  Each division of the
race possessed its own word to signify 'spirit.'  Some of these words
meant 'that which is above,' 'the higher one,' 'the invisible,' and
these attributes accorded to deity show that the original Indian
conception of it was practically the same as those which obtained among
the primitive peoples of Europe and Asia.  The idea of God was that of
a great prevailing force who resided "in the sky."  Savage or primitive
man observes that all brightness emanates from the firmament above him.
His eyes are dazzled by its splendour.  Therefore he {102} concludes
that it must be the abode of the source of all life, of all spiritual
excellence.



'Good' and 'Bad'

Before man has discovered the uses of that higher machinery of reason,
philosophy, and has learned to marshal his theological ideas by its
light, such deities as he worships conform very much to his own ethical
standard.  They mirror his morality, or lack of it.  They are, like
himself, savage, cruel, insatiable in their appetites.  Very likely,
too, the bestial attributes of the totemic gods cling to those deities
who have been evolved out of that system.  Among savage people ideas of
good and evil as we conceive them are non-existent.  To them 'good'
merely implies everything which is to their advantage, 'evil' that
which injures or distresses them.  It is only when such a system as
totemism, with its intricate taboos and stringent laws bearing on the
various relationships of life, comes to be adopted that a 'moral' order
arises.  Slaughter of the totem animal becomes a 'crime'--sacrilege.
Slaughter of a member of the totem clan, of a blood-brother, must be
atoned for because he is of the totem blood.  Marriage with a woman of
the same totem blood becomes an offence.  Neglect to pay fitting homage
and sacrifice to the gods or totem is regarded with severity,
especially when the evolution of a priestly caste has been achieved.
As the totem is an ancestor, so all ancestors are looked upon with
reverence, and deference to living progenitors becomes a virtue.  In
such ways a code of 'morality' is slowly but certainly produced.



No 'Good' or 'Bad' Gods

But, oddly enough, the gods are usually exempt from these laws by which
their worshippers are bound.  {103} We find them murderous, unfilial,
immoral, polygamous, and often irreverent.  This may be accounted for
by the circumstance that their general outlines were filled in before
totemism had become a fully developed system, or it may mean that the
savage did not believe that divine beings could be fettered by such
laws as he felt himself bound to obey.  However that may be, we find
the American gods neither better nor worse than those of other
mythological systems.  Some of them are prone to a sort of Puckish
trickery and are fond of practical joking: they had not reached the
exalted nobility of the pantheon of Olympus.  But what is more
remarkable--and this applies to the deities of all primitive races--we
find that they possess no ideas of good and evil.  We find them
occasionally worshipping gods of their own--usually the creative
deities--and that may perhaps be accounted unto them for righteousness.
But they are only 'good' to their worshippers inasmuch as they ensure
them abundant crops or game, and only 'bad' when they cease to do so.
They are not worshipped because they are the founts of truth and
justice, but for the more immediately cogent reason that, unless
placated by the steam of sacrifice, they will cease to provide an
adequate food-supply to man, and may malevolently send destruction upon
their neglectful worshippers.  In the relations between god and man
among early peoples a specific contract is implied: "Sacrifice unto us,
provide us with those offerings the steam of which is our food,
continue to do so, and we will see to it that you do not lack crops and
game and the essentials of life.  Fail to observe these customs and you
perish."  Under such a system it will readily be granted that such
horrors as human sacrifice were only undertaken because they were
thought to be absolutely necessary to the existence {104} of the race
as a whole, and were not prompted by any mere wanton delight in
bloodshed.

Dealing with this point, the late Professor Brinton says in his _Myths
of the New World_:

"The confusion of these distinct ideas [monotheism and polytheism] has
led to much misconception of the native creeds.  But another and more
fatal error was that which distorted them into a dualistic form,
ranging on one hand the good spirit with his legion of angels, on the
other the evil one with his swarm of fiends, representing the world as
the scene of their unending conflict, man as the unlucky football who
gets all the blows.

"This notion, which has its historical origin among the Parsees of
ancient Iran, is unknown to savage nations.  'The Hidatsa,' says Dr.
Matthews, 'believe neither in a hell nor a devil.'  'The idea of the
devil,' justly observes Jacob Grimm, 'is foreign to all primitive
religions.'  Yet Professor Mueller, in his voluminous work on those of
America, after approvingly quoting this saying, complacently proceeds
to classify the deities as good or bad spirits!

"This view, which has obtained without question in earlier works on the
native religions of America, has arisen partly from habits of thought
difficult to break, partly from mistranslations of native words, partly
from the foolish axiom of the early missionaries, 'The gods of the
Gentiles are devils.'  Yet their own writings furnish conclusive proof
that no such distinction existed out of their own fancies.  The same
word(_otkon_) which Father Bruyas employs to translate into Iroquois
the term 'devil,' in the passage 'The devil took upon himself the
figure of a serpent,' he is obliged to use for 'spirit' in the phrase,
'At the resurrection we shall be spirits,' which is a rather amusing
illustration how {105} impossible it was by any native word to convey
the idea of the spirit of evil.

"When, in 1570, Father Rogel commenced his labours among the tribes
near the Savannah River, he told them that the deity they adored was a
demon who loved all evil things, and they must hate him; whereas his
auditors replied, that so far from this being the case, he whom he
called a wicked being was the power that sent them all good things, and
indignantly left the missionary to preach to the winds.

"A passage often quoted in support of this mistaken view is one in
Winslow's _Good News from New England_, written in 1622.  The author
says that the Indians worship a good power called Kiehtan, and another
'who, as farre as wee can conceive, is the Devill,' named Hobbamock, or
Hobbamoqui.  The former of these names is merely the word 'great,' in
their dialect of Algonkin, with a final _N_, and is probably an
abbreviation of Kittanitowit, the great Manitou, a vague term mentioned
by Roger Williams and other early writers, manufactured probably by
them and not the appellation of any personified deity.  The latter, so
far from corresponding to the power of evil, was, according to
Winslow's own statement, the kindly god who cured diseases, aided them
in the chase, and appeared to them in dreams as their protector.
Therefore, with great justice, Dr. Jarvis has explained it to mean 'the
_oke_ or tutelary deity which each Indian worships,' as the word itself
signifies.

"So in many instances it turns out that what has been reported to be
the evil divinity of a nation, to whom they pray to the neglect of a
better one, is in reality the highest power they recognize."



{106}

Creation-Myths

The mythologies of the Red Man are infinitely more rich in creative and
deluge myths than those of any other race in the two hemispheres.
Tales which deal with the origin of man are exceedingly frequent, and
exhibit every phase of the type of creative story.  Although many of
these are similar to European and Asiatic myths of the same class,
others show great originality, and strikingly present to our minds the
characteristics of American aboriginal thought.

The creation-myths of the various Indian tribes differ as much from one
another as do those of Europe and Asia.  In some we find the great gods
moulding the universe, in others we find them merely discovering it.
Still others lead their people from subterranean depths to the upper
earth.  In many Indian myths we find the world produced by the
All-Father sun, who thickens the clouds into water, which becomes the
sea.  In the Zuñi record of creation Awonawilona, the creator,
fecundates the sea with his own flesh, and hatches it with his own
heat.  From this green scums are formed, which become the fourfold
mother Earth and the all-covering father Sky, from whom sprang all
creatures.  "Then from the nethermost of the four caves of the world
the seed of men and the creatures took form and grew; even as with eggs
in warm places worms quickly form and appear, and, growing, soon burst
their shells and there emerge, as may happen, birds, tadpoles, or
serpents: so man and all creatures grew manifoldly and multiplied in
many kinds.  Thus did the lowermost world-cave become overfilled with
living things, full of unfinished creatures, crawling like reptiles
over one another in black darkness, thickly crowding together and
treading one on another, one {107} spitting on another and doing other
indecency, in such manner that the murmurings and lamentations became
loud, and many amidst the growing confusion sought to escape, growing
wiser and more manlike.  Then Po-shai-an-K'ia, the foremost and the
wisest of men, arising from the nethermost sea, came among men and the
living things, and pitying them, obtained egress from that first
world-cave through such a dark and narrow path that some seeing
somewhat, crowding after, could not follow him, so eager mightily did
they strive one with another.  Alone then did Po-shai-an-K'ia come from
one cave to another into this world, then island-like, lying amidst the
world-waters, vast, wet, and unstable.  He sought and found the
Sun-Father, and besought him to deliver the men and the creatures from
that nethermost world."[4]


[4] Cushing, _13th Report_, Bureau of American Ethnology.



Algonquian Creation-Myth

In many other Indian mythologies we find the wind brooding over the
primeval ocean in the form of a bird.  In some creation-myths
amphibious animals dive into the waters and bring up sufficient mud
with them to form a beginning of the new earth.  In a number of these
tales no actual act of creation is recorded, but a reconstruction of
matter only.  The Algonquins relate that their great god Michabo, when
hunting one day with wolves for dogs, was surprised to see the animals
enter a great lake and disappear.  He followed them into the waters
with the object of rescuing them, but as he did so the lake suddenly
overflowed and submerged the entire earth.  Michabo despatched a raven
with directions to find a piece of earth which might serve as a nucleus
for a new world, but the bird returned from its quest unsuccessful.
Then the god sent an {108} otter on a like errand, but it too failed to
bring back the needful terrestrial germ.  At last a musk-rat was sent
on the same mission, and it returned with sufficient earth to enable
Michabo to recreate the solid land.  The trees had become denuded of
their branches, so the god discharged arrows at them, which provided
them with new boughs.  After this Michabo married the musk-rat, and
from their union sprang the human race.



The Muskhogean Creation-Story

The Muskhogean Indians believe that in the beginning the primeval waste
of waters alone was visible.  Over the dreary expanse two pigeons or
doves flew hither and thither, and in course of time observed a single
blade of grass spring above the surface.  The solid earth followed
gradually, and the terrestrial sphere took its present shape.  A great
hill, Nunne Chaha, rose in the midst, and in the centre of this was the
house of the deity Esaugetuh Emissee, the 'Master of Breath.'  He took
the clay which surrounded his abode, and from it moulded the first men,
and as the waters still covered the earth he was compelled to build a
great wall upon which to dry the folk he had made.  Gradually the soft
mud became transformed into bone and flesh, and Esaugetuh was
successful in directing the waters into their proper channels,
reserving the dry land for the men he had created.

This myth closely resembles the story in the Book of Genesis.  The
pigeons appear analogous to the brooding creative Spirit, and the
manufacture of the men out of mud is also striking.  So far is the
resemblance carried that we are almost forced to conclude that this is
one of the instances in which Gospel conceptions have been engrafted on
a native legend.



{109}

Siouan Cosmology

The Mandan tribes of the Sioux possess a type of creation-myth which is
common to several American peoples.  They suppose that their nation
lived in a subterranean village near a vast lake.  Hard by the roots of
a great grape-vine penetrated from the earth above, and, clambering up
these, several of them got a sight of the upper world, which they found
to be rich and well stocked with both animal and vegetable food.  Those
of them who had seen the new-found world above returned to their home
bringing such glowing accounts of its wealth and pleasantness that the
others resolved to forsake their dreary underground dwelling for the
delights of the sunny sphere above.  The entire population set out, and
started to climb up the roots of the vine, but no more than half the
tribe had ascended when the plant broke owing to the weight of a
corpulent woman.  The Mandans imagine that after death they will return
to the underground world in which they originally dwelt, the worthy
reaching the village by way of the lake, the bad having to abandon the
passage by reason of the weight of their sins.

The Minnetarees believed that their original ancestor emerged from the
waters of a lake bearing in his hand an ear of corn, and the Mandans
possessed a myth very similar to that of the Muskhogees concerning the
origin of the world.



Bird- and Serpent-Worship and Symbols

The serpent and the bird appear sometimes separately, sometimes in
strange combination, in North American mythology.  The bird is always
incomprehensible to the savage.  Its power of flight, its appearance in
the heavens where dwell the gods, and its musical song {110} combine to
render it in his sight a being of mystery, possessing capabilities far
above his own.  From it he conceives the idea of the winged spirit or
god, and he frequently regards it as a messenger from the bright
regions of the sun or the sky deity.  The flight and song of birds have
always been carefully observed by primitive people as omens of grave
import.  These superstitions prevailed among the Red Race no less than
among our own early ancestors.  Many tribes imagined that birds were
the visible spirits of the deceased.  Thus the Powhatans of Virginia
believed that the feathered race received the souls of their chiefs at
death, and they were careful to do them no harm, accordingly.  The
Algonquins believed that birds caused the phenomenon of wind, that they
created water-spouts, and that the clouds were the spreading and
agitation of their wings.  The Navaho thought that a great white swan
sat at each of the four points of the compass and conjured up the
blasts which came therefrom, while the Dakotas believed that in the
west is the home of the Wakinyjan, 'the Flyers,' the breezes that send
the storms.  The thunder, too, is regarded by some Indian peoples as
the flapping of the pinions of a great bird, whose tracks are seen in
the lightning, "like the sparks which the buffalo scatters when he
scours over a stony plain."  Many of the tribes of the north-west coast
hold the same belief, and imagine the lightning to be the flash of the
thunder-bird's eye.



Eagle-Worship

The eagle appears to have been regarded with extreme veneration by the
Red Man of the north.  "Its feathers composed the war-flag of the
Creeks, and its image carved in wood or its stuffed skin {111}
surmounted their council lodges.  None but an approved warrior dared
wear it among the Cherokees, and the Dakotas allowed such an honour
only to him who had first touched the corpse of the common foe."[5]
The Natchez and other tribes esteemed it almost as a deity.  The Zuñi
of New Mexico employed four of its feathers to represent the four winds
when invoking the rain-god.  Indeed, it was venerated by practically
every tribe in North America.  The owl, too, was employed as a symbol
of wisdom, and sometimes, as by the Algonquins, was represented as the
attendant of the Lord of the Dead.  The Creek medicine-men carried a
stuffed owl-skin as the badge of their fraternity and a symbol of their
wisdom, and the Cherokees placed one above the 'medicine' stone in
their council lodge.  The dove also appears to have been looked upon as
sacred by the Hurons and Mandans.


[5] Brinton, _Myths of the New World_.



The Serpent and the Sun

Some Indian tribes adopted the serpent as a symbol of time.  They
reckoned by 'suns,' and as the outline of the sun, a circle,
corresponds to nothing in nature so much as a serpent with its tail in
its mouth, devouring itself, so to speak, this may have been the origin
of the symbol.  Some writers think that the serpent symbolized the
Indian idea of eternity, but it is unlikely that such a recondite
conception would appeal to a primitive folk.



The Lightning Serpent

Among the Indians the serpent also typified the lightning.  The
rapidity and sinuosity of its motions, its quick spring and sharp
recoil, prove the aptness of the illustration.  The brilliancy of the
serpent's basilisk {112} glance and the general intelligence of its
habits would speedily give it a reputation for wisdom, and therefore as
the possessor of _orenda_, or magic power.  These two conceptions would
shortly become fused.  The serpent as the type of the lightning, the
symbol of the spear of the war-god, would lead to the idea that that
deity also had power over the crops or summer vegetation, for it is at
the time of year when lightning is most prevalent that these come to
fruition.  Again, the serpent would through this association with the
war-god attain a significance in the eye of warriors, who would regard
it as powerful war-physic.  Thus, the horn of the great Prince of
Serpents, which was supposed to dwell in the Great Lakes, was thought
to be the most potent war-charm obtainable, and priests or medicine-men
professed to have in their possession fragments of this mighty talisman.

The Algonquins believed that the lightning was an immense serpent
vomited by the Manito, or creator, and said that he leaves serpentine
twists and folds on the trees that he strikes.  The Pawnees called the
thunder "the hissing of the great snake."

In snake-charming as a proof of magical proficiency, as typifying the
lightning, which, as the serpent-spear of the war-god, brings victory
in battle, and in its agricultural connexion, lies most of the secret
of the potency of the serpent symbol.  As the emblem of the fertilizing
summer showers the lightning serpent was the god of fruitfulness; but
as the forerunner of floods and disastrous rains it was feared and
dreaded.



Serpent-Worship

Probably more ponderous nonsense has been written about the worship of
reptiles ('ophiolatry,' as the mythologists of half a century ago
termed it) than {113} upon any other allied subject.  But, this
notwithstanding, there is no question that the serpent still holds a
high place in the superstitious regard of many peoples, Asiatic and
American.  As we have already seen, it frequently represents the orb of
day, and this is especially the case among the Zuñi and other tribes of
the southern portions of North America, where sun-worship is more usual
than in the less genial regions.  With the Red Man also it commonly
typified water.  The sinuous motion of the reptile sufficiently
accounts for its adoption as the symbol for this element.  And it would
be no difficult feat of imagination for the savage to regard the
serpent as a water-god, bearing in mind as he would the resemblance
between its movement and the winding course of a river.  Kennebec, the
name of a stream in Maine, means 'snake,' and Antietam, a creek in
Maryland, has the same significance in the Iroquois dialect.  Both
Algonquins and Iroquois believed in the mighty serpent of the Great
Lakes.  The wrath of this deity was greatly to be feared, and it was
thought that, unless duly placated, he vented his irascible temper upon
the foolhardy adventurers who dared to approach his domain by raising a
tempest or breaking the ice beneath their feet and dragging them down
to his dismal fastnesses beneath.



The Rattlesnake

The rattlesnake was the serpent almost exclusively honoured by the Red
Race.  It is slow to attack, but venomous in the extreme, and possesses
the power of the basilisk to attract within reach of its spring small
birds and squirrels.  "It has the same strange susceptibility to the
influence of rhythmic sounds as the vipers, in which lies the secret of
snake-charming.  Most of the Indian magicians were familiar with this
{114} singularity.  They employed it with telling effect to put beyond
question their intercourse with the unseen powers, and to vindicate the
potency of their own guardian spirits who thus enabled them to handle
with impunity the most venomous of reptiles.  The well-known antipathy
of these serpents to certain plants, for instance the hazel, which,
bound around the ankles, is an alleged protection against their
attacks, and perhaps some antidote to their poison used by the
magicians, led to their frequent introduction in religious ceremonies.
Such exhibitions must have made a profound impression on the spectators
and redounded in a corresponding degree to the glory of the performer.
'Who is a _manito_?' asks the mystic Meda Chant of the Algonkins.
'He,' is the reply, 'he who walketh with a serpent, walking on the
ground; he is a _manito_.'  The intimate alliance of this symbol with
the mysteries of religion, the darkest riddles of the Unknown, is
reflected in their language, and also in that of their neighbours, the
Dakotas, in both of which the same words _manito, wakan_, which express
the supernatural in its broadest sense, are also used as terms for this
species of animals!  The pious founder of the Moravian Brotherhood, the
Count of Zinzendorf, owed his life on one occasion to this deeply
rooted superstition.  He was visiting a missionary station among the
Shawnees, in the Wyoming valley.  Recent quarrels with the whites had
unusually irritated this unruly folk, and they resolved to make him
their first victim.  After he had retired to his secluded hut, several
of the braves crept upon him, and, cautiously lifting the corner of the
lodge, peered in.  The venerable man was seated before a little fire, a
volume of the Scriptures on his knees, lost in the perusal of the
sacred words.  While they gazed, a huge rattlesnake, {115} unnoticed by
him, trailed across his feet, and rolled itself into a coil in the
comfortable warmth of the fire.  Immediately the would-be murderers
forsook their purpose and noiselessly retired, convinced that this was
indeed a man of God."[6]


[6] Brinton, _Myths of the New World_, pp. 131-133.



The Sacred Origin of Smoking

Smoking is, of course, originally an American custom, and with the
Indians of North America possesses a sacred origin.  Says an authority
upon the barbarian use of tobacco:[7]


[7] Schoolcraft, _op. cit._


"Of the sacred origin of tobacco the Indian has no doubt, although
scarcely two tribes exactly agree in the details of the way in which
the invaluable boon was conferred on man.  In substance, however, the
legend is the same with all.  Ages ago, at the time when spirits
considered the world yet good enough for their occasional residence, a
very great and powerful spirit lay down by the side of his fire to
sleep in the forest.  While so lying, his arch-enemy came that way, and
thought it would be a good chance for mischief; so, gently approaching
the sleeper, he rolled him over toward the fire, till his head rested
among the glowing embers, and his hair was set ablaze.  The roaring of
the fire in his ears roused the good spirit, and, leaping to his feet,
he rushed in a fright through the forest, and as he did so the wind
caught his singed hair as it flew off, and, carrying it away, sowed it
broadcast over the earth, into which it sank and took root, and grew up
tobacco.

"If anything exceeds the savage's belief in tobacco, it is that which
attaches to his pipe.  In life it is his dearest companion, and in
death is inseparable; for {116} whatever else may be forgotten at his
funeral obsequies, his pipe is laid in the grave with him to solace him
on his journey to the 'happy hunting-ground.'  'The first pipe' is
among the most sacred of their traditions; as well it may be, when it
is sincerely believed that no other than the Great Spirit himself was
the original smoker.

"Many years ago the Great Spirit called all his people together, and,
standing on the precipice of the Red Pipe-stone Rock, he broke a piece
from the wall, and, kneading it in his hands, made a huge pipe, which
he smoked over them, and to the north, south, east, and west.  He told
them that this stone was red, that it was their flesh, that of it they
might make their pipes of peace; but it belonged equally to all; and
the war-club and the scalping-knife must not be raised on this ground.
And he smoked his pipe and talked to them till the last whiff, and then
his head disappeared in a cloud; and immediately the whole surface of
the rock for several miles was melted and glazed.  Two great ovens were
opened beneath, and two women (guardian spirits of the place) entered
them in a blaze of fire; and they are heard there yet, and answer to
the invocation of the priests, or medicine-men, who consult them on
their visits to this sacred place.

"The 'sacred place' here mentioned is the site of the world-renowned
'Pipe-stone Quarry.'  From this place has the North American Indian
ever obtained material for his pipe, and from no other spot.  Catlin
asserts that in every tribe he has visited (numbering about forty, and
extending over thousands of miles of country) the pipes have all been
made of this red pipe-stone.  Clarke, the great American traveller,
relates that in his intercourse with many tribes who as yet had had but
little intercourse with the whites he {117} learned that almost every
adult had made the pilgrimage to the sacred rock and drawn from thence
his pipe-stone.  So peculiar is this 'quarry' that Catlin has been at
the pains to describe it very fully and graphically, and from his
account the following is taken:

"'Our approach to it was from the east, and the ascent, for the
distance of fifty miles, over a continued succession of slopes and
terraces, almost imperceptibly rising one above another, that seemed to
lift us to a great height.  There is not a tree or bush to be seen from
the highest summit of the ridge, though the eye may range east and
west, almost to a boundless extent, over a surface covered with a short
grass, that is green at one's feet, and about him, but changing to blue
in distance, like nothing but the blue and vastness of the ocean.

"'On the very top of this mound or ridge we found the far-famed quarry
or fountain of the Red Pipe, which is truly an anomaly in nature.  The
principal and most striking feature of this place is a perpendicular
wall of close-grained, compact quartz, of twenty-five and thirty feet
in elevation, running nearly north and south, with its face to the
west, exhibiting a front of nearly two miles in length, when it
disappears at both ends, by running under the prairie, which becomes
there a little more elevated, and probably covers it for many miles,
both to the north and south.  The depression of the brow of the ridge
at this place has been caused by the wash of a little stream, produced
by several springs at the top, a little back from the wall, which has
gradually carried away the superincumbent earth, and having bared the
wall for the distance of two miles, is now left to glide for some
distance over a perfectly level surface of quartz rock; and then to
leap from the top of the wall into a deep basin below, {118} and thence
seek its course to the Missouri, forming the extreme source of a noted
and powerful tributary, called the "Big Sioux."

"'At the base of this wall there is a level prairie, of half a mile in
width, running parallel to it, in any, and in all parts of which, the
Indians procure the red stone for their pipes, by digging through the
soil and several slaty layers of the red stone to the depth of four or
five feet.  From the very numerous marks of ancient and modern diggings
or excavations, it would appear that this place has been for many
centuries resorted to for the red stone; and from the great number of
graves and remains of ancient fortifications in the vicinity, it would
seem, as well as from their actual traditions, that the Indian tribes
have long held this place in high superstitious estimation; and also
that it has been the resort of different tribes, who have made their
regular pilgrimages here to renew their pipes.'

"As far as may be gathered from the various and slightly conflicting
accounts of Indian smoking observances, it would seem that to every
tribe, or, if it be an extensive one, to every detachment of a tribe,
belongs a potent instrument known as 'medicine pipe-stem.'  It is
nothing more than a tobacco-pipe, splendidly adorned with savage
trappings, yet it is regarded as a sacred thing to be used only on the
most solemn occasions, or in the transaction of such important business
as among us could only be concluded by the sanction of a Cabinet
Council, and affixing the royal signature."



The Gods of the Red Man

Most of the North American stocks possessed a regular pantheon of
deities.  Of these, having regard to their numbers, it will be
impossible to speak in any {119} detail, and it will be sufficient if
we confine ourselves to some account of the more outstanding figures.
As in all mythologies, godhead is often attached to the conception of
the bringer of culture, the sapient being who first instructs mankind
in the arts of life, agriculture, and religion.  American mythologies
possess many such hero-gods, and it is not always easy to say whether
they belong to history or mythology.  Of course, the circumstances
surrounding the conception of some of these beings prove that they can
be nothing else than mythological, but without doubt some of them were
originally mere mortal heroes.



Michabo

We discover one of the first class in Michabo, the Great Hare, the
principal deity of the Algonquins.  In the accounts of the older
travellers we find him described as the ruler of the winds, the
inventor of picture-writing, and even the creator and preserver of the
world.  Taking a grain of sand from the bed of the ocean, he made from
it an island which he launched in the primeval waters.  This island
speedily grew to a great size; indeed, so extensive did it become that
a young wolf which managed to find a footing on it and attempted to
cross it died of old age before he completed his journey.  A great
'medicine' society, called Meda, was supposed to have been founded by
Michabo.  Many were his inventions.  Observing the spider spread its
web, he devised the art of knitting nets to catch fish.  He furnished
the hunter with many signs and charms for use in the chase.  In the
autumn, ere he takes his winter sleep, he fills his great pipe and
smokes, and the smoke which arises is seen in the clouds which fill the
air with the haze of the Indian summer.

{120}

Some uncertainty prevailed among the various Algonquian tribes as to
where Michabo resided, some of them believing that he dwelt on an
island in Lake Superior, others on an iceberg in the Arctic Ocean, and
still others in the firmament, but the prevalent idea seems to have
been that his home was in the east, where the sun rises on the shores
of the great river Ocean that surrounds the dry land.

That a being possessing such qualities should be conceived of as taking
the name and form of a timid animal like the hare is indeed curious,
and there is little doubt that the original root from which the name
Michabo has been formed does not signify 'hare.'  In fact, the root
_wab_, which is the initial syllable of the Algonquian word for 'hare,'
means also 'white,' and from it are derived the words for 'east,'
'dawn,' 'light,' and 'day.'  Their names proceeding from the same root,
the idea of the hare and the dawn became confused, and the more
tangible object became the symbol of the god.  Michabo was therefore
the spirit of light, and, as the dawn, the bringer of winds.  As lord
of light he is also wielder of the lightning.  He is in constant
strife, nevertheless, with his father the West Wind, and in this combat
we can see the diurnal struggle between east and west, light and
darkness, common to so many mythologies.

Modern Indian tales concerning Michabo make him a mere tricksy spirit,
a malicious buffoon, but in these we can see his character in process
of deterioration under the stress of modern conditions impinging upon
Indian life.  It is in the tales of the old travellers and missionaries
that we find him in his true colours as a great culture-hero, Lord of
the Day and bringer of light and civilization.



{121}

The Battle of the Twin-Gods

Among the Iroquois we find a similar myth.  It tells of two brothers,
Ioskeha and Tawiscara, or the White One and the Dark One, twins, whose
grandmother was the moon.  When they grew up they quarrelled violently
with one another, and finally came to blows, Ioskeha took as his weapon
the horns of a stag, while Tawiscara seized a wild rose to defend
himself.  The latter proved but a puny weapon, and, sorely wounded,
Tawiscara turned to fly.  The drops of blood which fell from him became
flint stones.  Ioskeha later built for himself a lodge in the far east,
and became the father of mankind and principal deity of the Iroquois,
slaying the monsters which infested the earth, stocking the woods with
game, teaching the Indians how to grow crops and make fires, and
instructing them in many of the other arts of life.  This myth appears
to have been accepted later by the Mohawks and Tuscaroras.



Awonawilona

We have already alluded in the Zuñi creation-myth to the native deity
Awonawilona.  This god stands out as one of the most perfect examples
of deity in its constructive aspect to be found in the mythologies of
America.  He seems in some measure to be identified with the sun, and
from the remote allusions regarding him and the manner in which he is
spoken of as an architect of the universe we gather that he was not
exactly in close touch with mankind.



Ahsonnutli

Closely resembling him was Ahsonnutli, the principal deity of the
Navaho Indians of New Mexico, who was {122} regarded as the creator of
the heavens and earth.  He was supposed to have placed twelve men at
each of the cardinal points to uphold the heavens.  He was believed to
possess the qualities of both sexes, and is entitled the Turquoise
Man-woman.



Atius Tiráwa

Atius Tiráwa was the great god of the Pawnees.  He also was a creative
deity, and ordered the courses of the sun, moon, and stars.  As known
to-day he is regarded as omnipotent and intangible; but how far this
conception of him has been coloured by missionary influence it would be
difficult to say.  We find, however, in other Indian mythologies which
we know have not been sophisticated by Christian belief many references
to deities who possess such attributes, and there is no reason why we
should infer that Atius Tiráwa is any other than a purely aboriginal
conception.



Esaugetuh Emissee

The great life-giving god of the Creeks and other Muskhogeans was
Esaugetuh Emissee, whose name signifies, 'Master of Breath.'  The sound
of the name represents the emission of breath from the mouth.  He was
the god of wind, and, like many another divinity in American mythology,
his rule over that element was allied with his power over the breath of
life--one of the forms of wind or air.  Savage man regards the wind as
the great source of breath and life.  Indeed, in many tongues the words
'wind,' 'soul,' and 'breath' have a common origin.  We find a like
conception in the Aztec wind-god Tezcatlipoca, who was looked upon as
the primary source of existence.[8]


[8] See the author's _Myths of Mexico and Peru_, in this series.



{123}

The Coyote God

Among the people of the far west, the Californians and Chinooks, an
outstanding deity is, strangely enough, the Coyote.  But whereas among
the Chinooks he was thought to be a benign being, the Maidu and other
Californian tribes pictured him as mischievous, cunning, and
destructive.  Kodoyanpe, the Maidu creator, discovered the world along
with Coyote, and with his aid rendered it habitable for mankind.  The
pair fashioned men out of small wooden images, as the gods of the Kiche
of Central America are related to have done in the myth in the _Popol
Vuh_.  But the mannikins proved unsuitable to their purpose, and they
turned them into animals.  Kodoyanpe's intentions were beneficent, and
as matters appeared to be going but ill, he concluded that Coyote was
at the bottom of the mischief.  In this he was correct, and on
consideration he resolved to destroy Coyote.  On the side of the
disturber was a formidable array of monsters and other evil agencies.
But Kodoyanpe received powerful assistance from a being called the
Conqueror, who rid the universe of many monsters and wicked spirits
which might have proved unfriendly to the life of man, as yet unborn.
The combat raged fiercely over a protracted period, but at last the
beneficent Kodoyanpe was defeated by the crafty Coyote.  Kodoyanpe had
buried many of the wooden mannikins whom he had at first created, and
they now sprang from their places and became the Indian race.

This is, of course, a day-and-night or light-and-darkness myth.
Kodoyanpe is the sun, the spirit of day, who after a diurnal struggle
with the forces of darkness flies toward the west for refuge.  Coyote
is the spirit of night, typified by an animal of nocturnal {124} habits
which slinks forth from its den as the shades of dusk fall on the land.
We find a similar conception in Egyptian mythology, where Anubis, the
jackal-headed, swallows his father Osiris, the brilliant god of day, as
the night swallows up the sun.

Another version of the Coyote myth current in California describes how
in the beginning there was only the primeval waste of waters, upon
which Kodoyanpe and Coyote dropped in a canoe.  Coyote willed that the
surf beneath them should become sand.

"Coyote was coming.  He came to Got'at.  There he met a heavy surf.  He
was afraid that he might be drifted away, and went up to the
spruce-trees.  He stayed there a long time.  Then he took some sand and
threw it upon that surf: 'This shall be a prairie and no surf.  The
future generations shall walk on this prairie!'  Thus Clatsop became a
prairie.  The surf became a prairie."[9]


[9] Boas, _Chinook Texts_.


But among other tribes as well as among the Chinooks Italapas, the
Coyote, is a beneficent deity.  Thus in the myths of the Shushwap and
Kutenai Indians of British Columbia he figures as the creative agency,
and in the folk-tales of the Ashochimi of California he appears after
the deluge and plants in the earth the feathers of various birds, which
according to their colour become the several Indian tribes.



Blue Jay

Another mischievous deity of the Chinooks and other western peoples is
Blue Jay.  He is a turbulent braggart, schemer, and mischief-maker.  He
is the very clown of gods, and invariably in trouble himself if he is
not manufacturing it for others.  He has the shape of a jay-bird, which
was given him by the Supernatural {125} People because he lost to them
in an archery contest.  They placed a curse upon him, telling him the
note he used as a bird would gain an unenviable notoriety as a bad
omen.  Blue Jay has an elder brother, the Robin, who is continually
upbraiding him for his mischievous conduct in sententious phraseology.
The story of the many tricks and pranks played by Blue Jay, not only on
the long-suffering members of his tribe, but also upon the denizens of
the supernatural world, must have afforded intense amusement around
many an Indian camp-fire.  Even the proverbial gravity of the Red Man
could scarcely hold out against the comical adventures of this American
Owl-glass.



Thunder-Gods

North America is rich in thunder-gods.  Of these a typical example is
Haokah, the god of the Sioux.  The countenance of this divinity was
divided into halves, one of which expressed grief and the other
cheerfulness--that is, on occasion he could either weep with the rain
or smile with the sun.  Heat affected him as cold, and cold was to him
as heat.  He beat the tattoo of the thunder on his great drum, using
the wind as a drum-stick.  In some phases he is reminiscent of Jupiter,
for he hurls the lightning to earth in the shape of thunderbolts.  He
wears a pair of horns, perhaps to typify his connexion with the
lightning, or else with the chase, for many American thunder-gods are
mighty hunters.  This double conception arises from their possession of
the lightning-spear, or arrow, which also gives them in some cases the
character of a war-god.  Strangely enough, such gods of the chase often
resembled in appearance the animals they hunted.  For example, Tsui
'Kalu (Slanting Eyes), a hunter-god {126} of the Cherokee Indians,
seems to resemble a deer.  He is of giant proportions, and dwells in a
great mountain of the Blue Ridge Range, in North-western Virginia.  He
appears to have possessed all the game in the district as his private
property.  A Cherokee thunder-god is Asgaya Gigagei (Red Man).  The
facts that he is described as being of a red colour, thus typifying the
lightning, and that the Cherokees were originally a mountain people,
leave little room for doubt that he is a thunder-god, for it is around
the mountain peaks that the heavy thunder-clouds gather, and the red
lightning flashing from their depths looks like the moving limbs of the
half-hidden deity.  We also find occasionally invoked in the Cherokee
religious formulæ a pair of twin deities known as the 'Little Men,' or
'Thunder-boys.'  This reminds us that in Peru twins were always
regarded as sacred to the lightning, since they were emblematic of the
thunder-and-lightning twins, Apocatequil and Piguerao.  All these
thunder-gods are analogous to the Aztec Tlaloc, the Kiche Hurakan, and
the Otomi Mixcoatl.[10]  A well-known instance of the thunder- or
hunter-god who possesses animal characteristics will occur to those who
are familiar with the old English legend of Herne the Hunter, with his
deer's head and antlers.


[10] See _Myths of Mexico and Peru_.


The Dakota Indians worshipped a deity whom they addressed as Waukheon
(Thunder-bird).  This being was engaged in constant strife with the
water-god, Unktahe, who was a cunning sorcerer, and a controller of
dreams and witchcraft.  Their conflict probably symbolizes the
atmospheric changes which accompany the different seasons.



{127}

Idea of a Future Life

The idea of a future life was very widely disseminated among the tribes
of North America.  The general conception of such an existence was that
it was merely a shadowy extension of terrestrial life, in which the
same round of hunting and kindred pursuits was engaged in.  The Indian
idea of eternal bliss seems to have been an existence in the Land of
the Sun, to which, however, only those famed in war were usually
admitted.

That the Indians possessed a firm belief in a future state of existence
is proved by their statements to the early Moravian missionaries, to
whom they said: "We Indians shall not for ever die.  Even the grains of
corn we put under the earth grow up and become living things."  The old
missionary adds: "They conceive that when the soul has been awhile with
God it can, if it chooses, return to earth and be born again."  This
idea of rebirth, however, appears to have meant that the soul would
return to the bones, that these would clothe themselves with flesh, and
that the man would rejoin his tribe.  By what process of reasoning they
arrived at such a conclusion it would be difficult to ascertain, but
the almost universal practice which obtained among the Indians both of
North and South America of preserving the bones of the deceased plainly
indicates that they possessed some strong religious reason for this
belief.  Many tribes which dwelt east of the Mississippi once in every
decade collected the bones of those who had died within that period,
carefully cleaned them, and placed them in a tomb lined with beautiful
flowers, over which they erected a mound of wood, stone, or earth.
Nor, indeed, were the ancient Egyptians more considerate of the remains
of their fathers.



{128}

The Hope of Resurrection

American funerary ritual and practice throughout the northern
sub-continent plainly indicates a strong and vivid belief in the
resurrection of the soul after death.  Among many tribes the practice
prevailed of interring with the deceased such objects as he might be
supposed to require in the other world.  These included weapons of war
and of the chase for men, and household implements and feminine finery
in the case of women.

Among primitive peoples the belief is prevalent that inanimate objects
possess doubles, or, as spiritualists would say, 'astral bodies,' or
souls, and some Indian tribes supposed that unless such objects were
broken or mutilated--that is to say, 'killed'--their doubles would not
accompany the spirit of the deceased on its journey.



Indian Burial Customs

Many methods of disposing of the corpse were, and are, in use among the
American Indians.  The most common of these were ordinary burial in the
earth or under tumuli, burial in caves, tree-burial, raising the dead
on platforms, and the disposal of cremated remains in urns.

Embalming and mummification were practised to a certain extent by some
of the extinct tribes of the east coast, and some of the north-west
tribes, notably the Chinooks, buried their dead in canoes, which were
raised on poles.  The rites which accompanied burial, besides the
placing of useful articles and food in the grave, generally consisted
in a solemn dance, in which the bereaved relatives cut themselves and
blackened their faces, after which they wailed night and morning in
solitary places.  It was generally regarded as unlucky to mention the
name of the deceased, and, indeed, the {129} bereaved family often
adopted another name to avoid such a contingency.



The Soul's Journey

Most of the tribes appear to have believed that the soul had to
undertake a long journey before it reached its destination.  The belief
of the Chinooks in this respect is perhaps a typical one.  They imagine
that after death the spirit of the deceased drinks at a large hole in
the ground, after which it shrinks and passes on to the country of the
ghosts, where it is fed with spirit food and drink.  After this act of
communion with the spirit-world it may not return.  They also believe
that every one is possessed of two spirits, a greater and a less.
During illness the lesser soul is spirited away by the denizens of
Ghost-land.  The Navahos possess a similar belief, and say that the
soul has none of the vital force which animates the body, nor any of
the faculties of the mind, but a kind of third quality, or personality,
like the _ka_ of the ancient Egyptians, which may leave its owner and
become lost, much to his danger and discomfort.  The Hurons and
Iroquois believe that after death the soul must cross a deep and swift
stream, by a bridge formed by a single slender tree, upon which it has
to combat the attacks of a fierce dog.  The Athapascans imagine that
the soul must be ferried over a great water in a stone canoe, and the
Algonquins and Dakotas believe that departed spirits must cross a
stream bridged by an enormous snake.



Paradise and the Supernatural People

The Red Man appears to have possessed two wholly different conceptions
of supernatural life.  We find in Indian myth allusions both to a
'Country of the Ghosts' and to a 'Land of the Supernatural People.'
{130} The first appears to be the destination of human beings after
death, but the second is apparently the dwelling-place of a spiritual
race some degrees higher than mankind.  Both these regions are within
the reach of mortals, and seem to be mere extensions of the terrestrial
sphere.  Their inhabitants eat, drink, hunt, and amuse themselves in
the same manner as earthly folk, and are by no means invulnerable or
immortal.  The instinctive dread of the supernatural which primitive
man possesses is well exemplified in the myths in which he is brought
into contact with the denizens of Ghost-land or the Spirit-world.
These myths were undoubtedly framed for the same purpose as the old
Welsh poem on the harrying of hell, or the story of the journey of the
twin brothers to Xibalba in the Central American _Popol Vuh_.  That is
to say, the desire was felt for some assurance that man, on entering
the spiritual sphere, would only be treading in the footsteps of heroic
beings who had preceded him, who had vanquished the forces of death and
hell and had stripped them of their terrors.

The mythologies of the North American Indians possess no place of
punishment, any more than they possess any deities who are frankly
malevolent toward humanity.  Should a place of torment be discernible
in any Indian mythology at the present day it may unhesitatingly be
classed as the product of missionary sophistication.  Father Brébeuf,
an early French missionary, could only find that the souls of suicides
and those killed in war were supposed to dwell apart from the others.
"But as to the souls of scoundrels," he adds, "so far from being shut
out, they are welcome guests; though for that matter, if it were not so
their paradise would be a total desert, as 'Indian' and 'scoundrel' are
one and the same."



{131}

The Sacred Number Four

Over the length and breadth of the American continent a peculiar
sanctity is attached by the aborigines to the four points of the
compass.  This arises from the circumstance that from these quarters
come the winds which carry the fertilizing rains.  The Red Man, a
dweller in vast undulating plains where landmarks are few, recognized
the necessity of such guidance in his wanderings as could alone be
received from a strict adherence to the position of the four cardinal
points.  These he began to regard with veneration as his personal
safeguards, and recognized in them the dwelling-places of powerful
beings, under whose care he was.  Most of his festivals and
celebrations had symbolical or direct allusions to the four points of
the compass.  The ceremony of smoking, without which no treaty could be
commenced or ratified, was usually begun by the chief of the tribe
exhaling tobacco-smoke toward the four quarters of the earth.  Among
some tribes other points were also recognized, as, for example, one in
the sky and one in the earth.  All these points had their symbolical
colours, and were presided over by various animal or other divinities.
Thus the Apaches took black for the east, white for the south, yellow
for the west, and blue for the north, the Cherokees red, white, black,
and blue for the same points, and the Navahos white, blue, yellow, and
black, with white and black for the lower regions and blue for the
upper or ethereal world.



Indian Time and Festivals

The North American tribes have various ways of computing time.  Some of
them rely merely upon the changes in season and the growth of crops for
guidance {132} as to when their annual festivals and seasonal
celebrations should take place.  Others fix their system of festivals
on the changes of the moon and the habits of animals and birds.  It
was, however, upon the moon that most of these peoples depended for
information regarding the passage of time.  Most of them assigned
twelve moons to the year, while others considered thirteen a more
correct number.  The Kiowa reckoned the year to consist of twelve and a
half moons, the other half being carried over to the year following.

The Zuñi of New Mexico allude to the year as a 'passage of time,' and
call the seasons the 'steps of the year.'  The first six months of the
Zuñi year possess names which have an agricultural or natural
significance, while the last six have ritualistic names.  Captain
Jonathan Carver, who travelled among the Sioux at the end of the
eighteenth century, says that some tribes among them reckoned their
years by moons, and made them consist of twelve lunar months, observing
when thirty moons had waned to add a supernumerary one, which they
termed the 'lost moon.'  They gave a name to each month as follows, the
year beginning at the first new moon after the spring equinox: March,
Worm Moon; April, Moon of Plants; May, Moon of Flowers; June, Hot Moon;
July, Buck Moon; August, Sturgeon Moon; September, Corn Moon; October,
Travelling Moon; November, Beaver Moon; December, Hunting Moon;
January, Cold Moon; February, Snow Moon.  These people had no division
into weeks, but counted days by 'sleeps,' half-days by pointing to the
sun at noon, and quarter-days by the rising and setting of the sun, for
all of which they possessed symbolic signs.  Many tribes kept records
of events by means of such signs, as has already been indicated.  The
eastern Sioux {133} measure time by knotted leather thongs, similar to
the _quipos_ of the ancient Peruvians.  Other tribes have even more
primitive methods.  The Hupa of California tell a person's age by
examining his teeth.  The Maidu divide the seasons into Rain Season,
Leaf Season, Dry Season, and Falling-leaf Season.  The Pima of Southern
Arizona record events by means of notched sticks, which no one but the
persons who mark them can understand.

The chief reason for the computation of time among savage peoples is
the correct observance of religious festivals.  With the rude methods
at their command they are not always able to hit upon the exact date on
which these should occur.  These festivals are often of a highly
elaborate nature, and occupy many days in their celebration, the most
minute attention being paid to the proper performance of the various
rites connected with them.  They consist for the most part of a
preliminary fast, followed by symbolic dances or magical ceremonies,
and concluding with a gluttonous orgy.  Most of these observances
possess great similarity one to another, and visible differences may be
accounted for by circumstances of environment or seasonal variations.

When the white man first came into contact with the Algonquian race it
was observed that they held regularly recurring festivals to celebrate
the ripening of fruits and grain, and more irregular feasts to mark the
return of wild-fowl and the hunting season in general.  Dances were
engaged in, and heroic songs chanted.  Indeed, the entire observance
appears to have been identical in its general features with the
festival of to-day.

One of the most remarkable of these celebrations is that of the Creeks
called the 'Busk,' a contraction {134} for its native name, Pushkita.
Commencing with a rigorous fast which lasts three days, the entire
tribe assembles on the fourth day to watch the high-priest produce a
new fire by means of friction.  From this flame the members of the
tribe are supplied, and feasting and dancing are then engaged in for
three days.  Four logs are arranged in the form of a cross pointing to
the four quarters of the earth, and burnt as an offering to the four
winds.



The Buffalo Dance

The Mandans, a Dakota tribe, each year celebrate as their principal
festival the Buffalo Dance, a feast which marks the return of the
buffalo-hunting season.  Eight men wearing buffalo-skins on their
backs, and painted black, red, or white, imitate the actions of
buffaloes.  Each of them holds a rattle in his right hand and a slender
rod six feet long in his left, and carries a bunch of green willow
boughs on his back.  The ceremony is held at the season of the year
when the willow is in full leaf.  The dancers take up their positions
at four different points of a canoe to represent the four cardinal
points of the compass.  Two men dressed as grizzly bears stand beside
the canoe, growling and threatening to spring upon any one who
interferes with the ceremony.  The bystanders throw them pieces of
food, which are at once pounced upon by two other men, and carried off
by them to the prairie.  During the ceremony the old men of the tribe
beat upon sacks, chanting prayers for the success of the buffalo-hunt.
On the fourth day a man enters the camp in the guise of an evil spirit,
and is driven from the vicinity with stones and curses.

The elucidation of this ceremony may perhaps be as {135} follows: From
some one of the four points of the compass the buffalo must come;
therefore all are requested to send goodly supplies.  The men dressed
as bears symbolize the wild beasts which might deflect the progress of
the herds of buffalo toward the territory of the tribe, and therefore
must be placated.  The demon who visits the camp after the ceremony is,
of course, famine.



Dance-Festivals of the Hopi

The most highly developed North American festival system is that of the
Hopi or Moqui of Arizona, the observances of which are almost of a
theatrical nature.  All the Pueblo Indians, of whom the Hopi are a
division, possess similar festivals, which recur at various seasons or
under the auspices of different totem clans or secret societies.  Most
of these 'dances' are arranged by the Katcina clan, and take place in
dance-houses known as _kivas_.  These ceremonies have their origin in
the universal reverence shown to the serpent in America--a reverence
based on the idea that the symbol of the serpent, tail in mouth,
represented the round, full sun of August.  In the summer 'dances'
snake-charming feats are performed, but in the Katcina ceremony
serpents are never employed.

Devil-dances are by no means uncommon among the Indians.  The purpose
of these is to drive evil spirits from the vicinity of the tribe.



Medicine-Men

The native American priesthood, whether known as medicine-men,
_shamans_, or wizards, were in most tribes a caste apart, exercising
not only the priestly function, but those of physician and prophet as
well.  The name 'medicine-men,' therefore, is scarcely a misnomer.
{136} They were skilled in the handling of occult forces such as
hypnotism, and thus exercised unlimited sway over the rank and file of
the tribe.  But we shall first consider them in their religious aspect.
In many of the Indian tribes the priesthood was a hereditary office; in
others it was obtained through natural fitness or revelation in dreams.
With the Cherokees, for example, the seventh son of a family was
usually marked out as a suitable person for the priesthood.  As a rule
the religious body did not share in the general life of the tribe, from
which to a great degree it isolated itself.  For example, Bartram in
his _Travels in the Carolinas_ describes the younger priests of the
Creeks as being arrayed in white robes, and carrying on their heads or
arms "a great owl-skin stuffed very ingeniously as an insignia of
wisdom and divination.  These bachelors are also distinguishable from
the other people by their taciturnity, grave and solemn countenance,
dignified step, and singing to themselves songs or hymns in a low,
sweet voice as they stroll about the towns."  To add to the feeling of
awe which they inspired among the laymen of the tribe, the priests
conversed with one another in a secret tongue.  Thus the magical
formulæ of some of the Algonquin priests were not in the ordinary
language, but in a dialect of their own invention.  The Choctaws,
Cherokees, and Zuñi employed similar esoteric dialects, all of which
are now known to be merely modifications of their several tribal
languages, fortified with obsolete words, or else mere borrowings from
the idioms of other tribes.



Medicine-Men as Healers

It was, however, as healers that the medicine-men were pre-eminent.
The Indian assigns all illness or bodily {137} discomfort to
supernatural agency.  He cannot comprehend that indisposition may arise
within his own system, but believes that it must necessarily proceed
from some external source.  Some supernatural being whom he has
offended, the soul of an animal which he has slain, or perhaps a
malevolent sorcerer, torments him.  If the bodies of mankind were not
afflicted in this mysterious manner their owners would endure for ever.
When the Indian falls sick he betakes himself to a medicine-man, to
whom he relates his symptoms, at the same time acquainting him with any
circumstances which he may suspect of having brought about his
condition.  If he has slain a deer and omitted the usual formula of
placation afterward he suspects that the spirit of the beast is
actively harming him.  Should he have shot a bird and have subsequently
observed any of the same species near his dwelling, he will almost
invariably conclude that they were bent on a mission of vengeance and
have by some means injured him.  The medicine-man, in the first
instance, may give his patient some simple native remedy.  If this
treatment does not avail he will arrange to go to the sufferer's lodge
for the purpose of making a more thorough examination.  Having located
the seat of the pain, he will blow upon it several times, and then
proceed to massage it vigorously, invoking the while the aid of the
natural enemy of the spirit which he suspects is tormenting the sick
man.  Thus if a deer's spirit be suspected he will call upon the
mountain lion or the Great Dog to drive it away, but if a bird of any
of the smaller varieties he will invoke the Great Eagle who dwells in
the zenith to slay or devour it.  Upon the supposed approach of these
potent beings he will become more excited, and, vigorously slapping the
patient, will chant incantations {138} in a loud and sonorous voice,
which are supposed to hasten the advent of the friendly beings whom he
has summoned.  At last, producing by sleight of hand an image of the
disturbing spirit worked in bone, he calls for a vessel of boiling
water, into which he promptly plunges the supposed cause of his
patient's illness.  The bone figure is withdrawn from the boiling water
after a space, and on being examined may be found to have one or more
scores on its surface.  Each of these shows that it has already slain
its man, and the patient is assured that had the native Æsculapius not
adopted severe measures the malign spirit would have added him to the
number of its victims.

Should these methods not result in a cure, others are resorted to.  The
patient is regaled with the choicest food and drink, while incantations
are chanted and music performed to frighten away the malign influences.



Professional Etiquette

The priestly class is not given to levying exorbitant fees upon its
patients.  As a rule the Indian medicine-man strongly resents any
allusion to a fee.  Should the payment be of a perishable nature, such
as food, he usually shares it with his relatives, brother-priests, or
even his patients, but should it consist of something that may be
retained, such as cloth, teeth necklaces, or skins, he will carefully
hoard it to afford provision for his old age.  The Indian practitioner
is strongly of opinion that white doctors are of little service in the
cure of native illnesses.  White medicine, he says, is good only for
white men, and Indian medicine for the red man; in which conclusion he
is probably justified.



{139}

Journeys in Spirit-land

In many Indian myths we read how the _shamans_, singly or in companies,
seek the Spirit-land, either to search for the souls of those who are
ill, but not yet dead, or to seek advice from supernatural beings.
These thaumaturgical practices were usually undertaken by three
medicine-men acting in concert.  Falling into a trance, in which their
souls were supposed to become temporarily disunited from their bodies,
they would follow the track of the sick man's spirit into the
spirit-world.  The order in which they travelled was determined by the
relative strength of their guardian spirits, those with the strongest
being first and last, and he who had the weakest being placed in the
middle.  If the sick man's track turned to the left they said he would
die, but if to the right, he would recover.  From the trail they could
also divine whether any supernatural danger was near, and the foremost
priest would utter a magic chant to avert such evils if they came from
the front, while if the danger came from the rear the incantation was
sung by the priest who came last.  Generally their sojourn occupied one
or two nights, and, having rescued the soul of the patient, they
returned to place it in his body.

Not only was the _shaman_ endowed with the power of projecting his own
'astral body' into the Land of Spirits.  By placing cedar-wood charms
in the hands of persons who had not yet received a guardian spirit he
could impart to them his clairvoyant gifts, enabling them to visit the
Spirit-land and make any observations required by him.

The souls of chiefs, instead of following the usual route, went
directly to the sea-shore, where only the most gifted _shamans_ could
follow their trail.  The sea {140} was regarded as the highway to the
supernatural regions.  A sick man was in the greatest peril at high
water, but when the tide was low the danger was less.

The means adopted by the medicine-men to lure ghosts away from their
pursuit of a soul was to create an 'astral' deer.  The ghosts would
turn from hunting the man's soul to follow that of the beast.



The Savage and Religion

It cannot be said that the religious sense was exceptionally strong in
the mind of the North American Indian.  But this was due principally to
the stage of culture at which he stood, and in some cases still stands.
In man in his savage or barbarian condition the sense of reverence as
we conceive it is small, and its place is largely filled by fear and
superstition.  It is only at a later stage, when civilizing influences
have to some extent banished the grosser terrors of animism and
fetishism, that the gods reveal themselves in a more spiritual aspect.




{141}

CHAPTER III: ALGONQUIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS


Glooskap and Malsum

The Algonquin Indians have perhaps a more extensive mythology than the
majority of Indian peoples, and as they have been known to civilization
for several centuries their myths have the advantage of having been
thoroughly examined.

One of the most interesting figures in their pantheon is Glooskap,
which means 'The Liar'; but so far from an affront being intended to
the deity by this appellation, it was bestowed as a compliment to his
craftiness, cunning being regarded as one of the virtues by all savage
peoples.

Glooskap and his brother Malsum, the Wolf, were twins, and from this we
may infer that they were the opposites of a dualistic system, Glooskap
standing for what seems 'good' to the savage, and Malsum for all that
was 'bad.'[1]  Their mother died at their birth, and out of her body
Glooskap formed the sun and moon, animals, fishes, and the human race,
while the malicious Malsum made mountains, valleys, serpents, and every
manner of thing which he considered would inconvenience the race of men.


[1] This 'goodness' and 'badness,' however, is purely relative and of
modern origin, such deities, as already explained, being figures in a
light-and-darkness myth.


Each of the brothers possessed a secret as to what would kill him, as
do many other beings in myth and fairy story, notably Liew Llaw Gyffes
in Welsh romance.

Malsum asked Glooskap in what manner he could be killed, and the elder
brother, to try his sincerity, replied that the only way in which his
life could be taken was by the touch of an owl's feather--or, as {142}
some variants of the myth say, by that of a flowering rush.  Malsum in
his turn confided to Glooskap that he could only perish by a blow from
a fern-root.  The malicious Wolf, taking his bow, brought down an owl,
and while Glooskap slept struck him with a feather plucked from its
wing.  Glooskap immediately expired, but to Malsum's chagrin came to
life again.  This tale is surprisingly reminiscent of the Scandinavian
myth of Balder, who would only die if struck by a sprig of mistletoe by
his brother Hodur.  Like Balder, Glooskap is a sun-god, as is well
proved by the circumstance that when he dies he does not fail to revive.

But Malsum resolved to learn his brother's secret and to destroy him at
the first opportunity.  Glooskap had told him subsequently to his first
attempt that only a pine-root could kill him, and with this Malsum
struck him while he slept as before, but Glooskap, rising up and
laughing, drove Malsum into the forest, and seated himself by a stream,
where he murmured, as if musing to himself: "Only a flowering rush can
kill me."  Now he said this because he knew that Quah-beet, the Great
Beaver, was hidden among the rushes on the bank of the stream and would
hear every word he uttered.  The Beaver went at once to Malsum and told
him what he regarded as his brother's vital secret.  The wicked Malsum
was so glad that he promised to give the Beaver whatever he might ask
for.  But when the beast asked for wings like a pigeon Malsum burst
into mocking laughter and cried: "Ho, you with the tail like a file,
what need have you of wings?"  At this the Beaver was wroth, and, going
to Glooskap, made a clean breast of what he had done.  Glooskap, now
thoroughly infuriated, dug up a fern-root, and, rushing into the
recesses of the forest, sought out his treacherous brother and with a
blow of the fatal plant struck him dead.



{143}

Scandinavian Analogies

But although Malsum was slain he subsequently appears in Algonquian
myth as Lox, or Loki, the chief of the wolves, a mischievous and
restless spirit.  In his account of the Algonquian mythology Charles
Godfrey Leland appears to think that the entire system has been
sophisticated by Norse mythology filtering through the Eskimo.
Although the probabilities are against such a theory, there are many
points in common between the two systems, as we shall see later, and
among them few are more striking than the fact that the Scandinavian
and Algonquian evil influences possess one and the same name.

When Glooskap had completed the world he made man and the smaller
supernatural beings, such as fairies and dwarfs.  He formed man from
the trunk of an ash-tree, and the elves from its bark.  Like Odin, he
trained two birds to bring him the news of the world, but their
absences were so prolonged that he selected a black and a white wolf as
his attendants.  He waged a strenuous and exterminating warfare on the
evil monsters which then infested the world, and on the sorcerers and
witches who were harmful to man.  He levelled the hills and restrained
the forces of nature in his mighty struggles, in which he towered to
giant stature, his head and shoulders rising high above the clouds.
Yet in his dealings with men he was gentle and quietly humorous, not to
say ingenuous.

On one occasion he sought out a giant sorcerer named Win-pe, one of the
most powerful of the evil influences then dwelling upon the earth.
Win-pe shot upward till his head was above the tallest pine of the
forest, but Glooskap, with a god-like laugh, grew till his head reached
the stars, and tapped the wizard {144} gently with the butt of his bow,
so that he fell dead at his feet.

But although he exterminated many monsters and placed a check upon the
advance of the forces of evil, Glooskap did not find that the race of
men grew any better or wiser.  In fact, the more he accomplished on
their behalf the worse they became, until at last they reached such a
pitch of evil conduct that the god resolved to quit the world
altogether.  But, with a feeling of consideration still for the beings
he had created, he announced that within the next seven years he would
grant to all and sundry any request they might make.  A great many
people were desirous of profiting by this offer, but it was with the
utmost difficulty that they could discover where Glooskap was.  Those
who did find him and who chose injudiciously were severely punished,
while those whose desires were reasonable were substantially rewarded.



Glooskap's Gifts

Four Indians who won to Glooskap's abode found it a place of magical
delights, a land fairer than the mind could conceive.  Asked by the god
what had brought them thither, one replied that his heart was evil and
that anger had made him its slave, but that he wished to be meek and
pious.  The second, a poor man, desired to be rich, and the third, who
was of low estate and despised by the folk of his tribe, wished to be
universally honoured and respected.  The fourth was a vain man,
conscious of his good looks, whose appearance was eloquent of conceit.
Although he was tall, he had stuffed fur into his moccasins to make him
appear still taller, and his wish was that he might become bigger than
any man of his tribe and that he might live for ages.

{145}

Glooskap drew four small boxes from his medicine-bag and gave one to
each, desiring that they should not open them until they reached home.
When the first three arrived at their respective lodges each opened his
box, and found therein an unguent of great fragrance and richness, with
which he rubbed himself.  The wicked man became meek and patient, the
poor man speedily grew wealthy, and the despised man became stately and
respected.  But the conceited man had stopped on his way home in a
clearing in the woods, and, taking out his box, had anointed himself
with the ointment it contained.  His wish also was granted, but not
exactly in the manner he expected, for he was changed into a pine-tree,
the first of the species, and the tallest tree of the forest at that.



Glooskap and the Baby

Glooskap, having conquered the Kewawkqu', a race of giants and
magicians, and the Medecolin, who were cunning sorcerers, and Pamola, a
wicked spirit of the night, besides hosts of fiends, goblins,
cannibals, and witches, felt himself great indeed, and boasted to a
certain woman that there was nothing left for him to subdue.

But the woman laughed and said: "Are you quite sure, Master?  There is
still one who remains unconquered, and nothing can overcome him."

In some surprise Glooskap inquired the name of this mighty individual.

"He is called Wasis," replied the woman; "but I strongly advise you to
have no dealings with him."

Wasis was only the baby, who sat on the floor sucking a piece of
maple-sugar and crooning a little song to himself.  Now Glooskap had
never married and was quite ignorant of how children are managed, {146}
but with perfect confidence he smiled to the baby and asked it to come
to him.  The baby smiled back to him, but never moved, whereupon
Glooskap imitated the beautiful song of a certain bird.  Wasis,
however, paid no heed to him, but went on sucking his maple-sugar.
Glooskap, unaccustomed to such treatment, lashed himself into a furious
rage, and in terrible and threatening accents ordered Wasis to come
crawling to him at once.  But Wasis burst into direful howling, which
quite drowned the god's thunderous accents, and for all the
threatenings of the deity he would not budge.  Glooskap, now thoroughly
aroused, brought all his magical resources to his aid.  He recited the
most terrible spells, the most dreadful incantations.  He sang the
songs which raise the dead, and which sent the devil scurrying to the
nethermost depths of the pit.  But Wasis evidently seemed to think this
was all some sort of a game, for he merely smiled wearily and looked a
trifle bored.  At last Glooskap in despair rushed from the hut, while
Wasis, sitting on the floor, cried, "Goo, goo," and crowed
triumphantly.  And to this day the Indians say that when a baby cries
"Goo" he remembers the time when he conquered the mighty Glooskap.

[Illustration: "Glooskap brought all his magical resources to his aid"]


Glooskap's Farewell

At length the day on which Glooskap was to leave the earth arrived, and
to celebrate the event he caused a great feast to be made on the shores
of Lake Minas.  It was attended by all the animals, and when it drew to
a close Glooskap entered his great canoe and slowly drifted out of
sight.  When they could see him no longer they still heard his
beautiful singing growing fainter and fainter in the distance, until at
last it died away altogether.  Then a strange thing happened.  {147}
The beasts, who up to this time had spoken but one language, could no
longer understand each other, and in confusion fled away, never again
to meet in friendly converse until Glooskap shall return and revive the
halcyon days of the Golden Age.

This tradition of Glooskap strikingly recalls that of the Mexican god
Quetzalcoatl, who drifted from the shores of Mexico eastward toward the
fabled land of Tlapallan, whence he had originally come.  Glooskap,
like the Mexican deity alluded to, is, as has already been indicated, a
sun-god, or, more properly speaking, a son of the sun, who has come to
earth on a mission of enlightenment and civilization, to render the
world habitable for mankind and to sow the seeds of the arts, domestic
and agricultural.  Quetzalcoatl disappeared toward the east because it
was the original home of his father, the sun, and not toward the west,
which is merely the sun's resting-place for the night.  But Glooskap
drifted westward, as most sun-children do.



How Glooskap Caught the Summer

A very beautiful myth tells how Glooskap captured the Summer.  The form
in which it is preserved is a kind of poetry possessing something in
the nature of metre, which until a few generations ago was recited by
many Algonquian firesides.  A long time ago Glooskap wandered very far
north to the Ice-country, and, feeling tired and cold, sought shelter
at a wigwam where dwelt a great giant--the giant Winter.  Winter
received the god hospitably, filled a pipe of tobacco for him, and
entertained him with charming stories of the old time as he smoked.
All the time Winter was casting his spell over Glooskap, for as he
talked drowsily and monotonously he gave forth a freezing atmosphere,
so that Glooskap first dozed and then fell {148} into a deep sleep--the
heavy slumber of the winter season.  For six whole months he slept;
then the spell of the frost arose from his brain and he awoke.  He took
his way homeward and southward, and the farther south he fared the
warmer it felt, and the flowers began to spring up around his steps.

At length he came to a vast, trackless forest, where, under primeval
trees, many little people were dancing.  The queen of these folk was
Summer, a most exquisitely beautiful, if very tiny, creature.  Glooskap
caught the queen up in his great hand, and, cutting a long lasso from
the hide of a moose, secured it round her tiny frame.  Then he ran
away, letting the cord trail loosely behind him.



The Elves of Light

The tiny people, who were the Elves of Light, came clamouring shrilly
after him, pulling frantically at the lasso.  But as Glooskap ran the
cord ran out, and pull as they might they were left far behind.

Northward he journeyed once more, and came to the wigwam of Winter.
The giant again received him hospitably, and began to tell the old
stories whose vague charm had exercised such a fascination upon the
god.  But Glooskap in his turn began to speak.  Summer was lying in his
bosom, and her strength and heat sent forth such powerful magic that at
length Winter began to show signs of distress.  The sweat poured
profusely down his face, and gradually he commenced to melt, as did his
dwelling.  Then slowly nature awoke, the song of birds was heard, first
faintly, then more clearly and joyously.  The thin green shoots of the
young grass appeared, and the dead leaves of last autumn were carried
down to the river by the melting snow.  Lastly the fairies came out,
and {149} Glooskap, leaving Summer with them, once more bent his steps
southward.

This is obviously a nature-myth conceived by a people dwelling in a
climate where the rigours of winter gave way for a more or less brief
space only to the blandishments of summer.  To them winter was a giant,
and summer an elf of pigmy proportions.  The stories told during the
winter season are eloquent of the life led by people dwelling in a
sub-arctic climate, where the traditional tale, the father of epic
poetry, whiles away the long dark hours, while the winter tempest roars
furiously without and the heaped-up snow renders the daily occupation
of the hunter impossible.



Glooskap's Wigwam

The Indians say that Glooskap lives far away, no one knows where, in a
very great wigwam.  His chief occupation is making arrows, and it would
appear that each of these stands for a day.  One side of his wigwam is
covered with arrows, and when his lodge shall be filled with them the
last great day will arrive.  Then he will call upon his army of good
spirits and go forth to attack Malsum in a wonderful canoe, which by
magical means can be made to expand so as to hold an army or contract
so that it may be carried in the palm of the hand.  The war with his
evil brother will be one of extermination, and not one single
individual on either side will be left.  But the good will go to
Glooskap's beautiful abode, and all will be well at last.



The Snow-Lodge

Chill breezes had long forewarned the geese of the coming cold season,
and the constant cry from above of "Honk, honk," told the Indians that
the birds' migration was in progress.

{150}

The buffalo-hunters of the Blackfeet, an Algonquian tribe, were abroad
with the object of procuring the thick robes and the rich meat which
would keep them warm and provide good fare through the desolate winter
moons.  Sacred Otter had been lucky.  Many buffaloes had fallen to him,
and he was busily occupied in skinning them.  But while the braves
plied the knife quickly and deftly they heeded not the dun, lowering
clouds heavy with tempest hanging like a black curtain over the
northern horizon.  Suddenly the clouds swooped down from their place in
the heavens like a flight of black eagles, and with a roar the blizzard
was upon them.

[Illustration: "He descried a great _tepee_"]

Sacred Otter and his son crouched beneath the carcass of a dead buffalo
for shelter.  But the air was frore as water in which the ice is
floating, and he knew that they would quickly perish unless they could
find some better protection from the bitter wind.  So he made a small
_tepee_, or tent, out of the buffalo's hide, and both crawled inside.
Against this crazy shelter the snow quickly gathered and drifted, so
that soon the inmates of the tiny lodge sank into a comfortable drowse
induced by the gentle warmth.  As Sacred Otter slept he dreamed.  Away
in the distance he descried a great _tepee_, crowned with a colour like
the gold of sunlight, and painted with a cluster of stars symbolic of
the North.  The ruddy disc of the sun was pictured at the back, and to
this was affixed the tail of the Sacred Buffalo.  The skirts of the
_tepee_ were painted to represent ice, and on its side had been drawn
four yellow legs with green claws, typical of the Thunder-bird.  A
buffalo in glaring red frowned above the door, and bunches of
crow-feathers, with small bells attached, swung and tinkled in the
breeze.

Sacred Otter, surprised at the unusual nature of the {151} paintings,
stood before the _tepee_ lost in admiration of its decorations, when he
was startled to hear a voice say:

"Who walks round my _tepee_?  Come in--come in!"



The Lord of Cold Weather

Sacred Otter entered, and beheld a tall, white-haired man, clothed all
in white, sitting at the back of the lodge, of which he was the sole
occupant.  Sacred Otter took a seat, but the owner of the _tepee_ never
looked his way, smoking on in stolid silence.  Before him was an
earthen altar, on which was laid juniper, as in the Sun ceremonial.
His face was painted yellow, with a red line in the region of the
mouth, and another across the eyes to the ears.  Across his breast he
wore a mink-skin, and round his waist small strips of otter-skin, to
all of which bells were attached.  For a long time he kept silence, but
at length he laid down his black stone pipe and addressed Sacred Otter
as follows:

"I am Es-tonea-pesta, the Lord of Cold Weather, and this, my dwelling,
is the Snow-tepee, or Yellow Paint Lodge.  I control and send the
driving snow and biting winds from the Northland.  You are here because
I have taken pity upon you, and on your son who was caught in the
blizzard with you.  Take this Snow-tepee with its symbols and
medicines.  Take also this mink-skin tobacco-pouch, this black stone
pipe, and my supernatural power.  You must make a _tepee_ similar to
this on your return to camp."

The Lord of Cold Weather then minutely explained to Sacred Otter the
symbols of which he must make use in painting the lodge, and gave him
the songs and ceremonial connected with it.  At this juncture Sacred
Otter awoke.  He observed that the storm had abated somewhat, and as
soon as it grew fair enough he and his son crawled from their shelter
and tramped home {152} waist-high through the soft snow.  Sacred Otter
spent the long, cold nights in making a model of the Snow-tepee and
painting it as he had been directed in his dream.  He also collected
the 'medicines' necessary for the ceremonial, and in the spring, when
new lodges were made, he built and painted the Snow-tepee.

The power of Sacred Otter waxed great because of his possession of the
Snow-lodge which the Lord of Cold had vouchsafed to him in dream.  Soon
was it proved.  Once more while hunting buffalo he and several
companions were caught in a blizzard when many a weary mile from camp.
They appealed to Sacred Otter to utilize the 'medicine' of the Lord of
Cold.  Directing that several women and children who were with the
party should be placed on sledges, and that the men should go in
advance and break a passage through the snow for the horses, he took
the mink tobacco-pouch and the black stone pipe he had received from
the Cold-maker and commenced to smoke.  He blew the smoke in the
direction whence the storm came and prayed to the Lord of Cold to have
pity on the people.  Gradually the storm-clouds broke and cleared and
on every side the blue sky was seen.  The people hastened on, as they
knew the blizzard was only being held back for a space.  But their camp
was at hand, and they soon reached it in safety.

Never again, however, would Sacred Otter use his mystic power.  For he
dreaded that he might offend the Lord of Cold.  And who could afford to
do that?



The Star-Maiden

A pretty legend of the Chippeways, an Algonquian tribe, tells how
Algon, a hunter, won for his bride the daughter of a star.  While
walking over the prairies he discovered a circular pathway, worn as if
by the tread {153} of many feet, though there were no foot-marks
visible outside its bounds.  The young hunter, who had never before
encountered one or these 'fairy rings,' was filled with surprise at the
discovery, and hid himself in the long grass to see whether an
explanation might not be forthcoming.  He had not long to wait.  In a
little while he heard the sound of music, so faint and sweet that it
surpassed anything he had ever dreamed of.  The strains grew fuller and
richer, and as they seemed to come from above he turned his eyes toward
the sky.  Far in the blue he could see a tiny white speck like a
floating cloud.  Nearer and nearer it came, and the astonished hunter
saw that it was no cloud, but a dainty osier car, in which were seated
twelve beautiful maidens.  The music he had heard was the sound of
their voices as they sang strange and magical songs.  Descending into
the charmed ring, they danced round and round with such exquisite grace
and abandon that it was a sheer delight to watch them.  But after the
first moments of dazzled surprise Algon had eyes only for the youngest
of the group, a slight, vivacious creature, so fragile and delicate
that it seemed to the stalwart hunter that a breath would blow her away.

He was, indeed, seized with a fierce passion for the dainty sprite, and
he speedily decided to spring from the grass and carry her off.  But
the pretty creatures were too quick for him.  The fairy of his choice
skilfully eluded his grasp and rushed to the car.  The others followed,
and in a moment they were soaring up in the air, singing a sweet,
unearthly song.  The disconsolate hunter returned to his lodge, but try
as he might he could not get the thought of the Star-maiden out of his
head, and next day, long before the hour of the fairies' arrival, he
lay in the grass awaiting {154} the sweet sounds that would herald
their approach.  At length the car appeared.  The twelve ethereal
beings danced as before.  Again Algon made a desperate attempt to seize
the youngest, and again he was unsuccessful.

"Let us stay," said one of the Star-maidens.  "Perhaps the mortal
wishes to teach us his earthly dances."  But the youngest sister would
not hear of it, and they all rose out of sight in their osier basket.



Algon's Strategy

Poor Algon returned home more unhappy than ever.  All night he lay
awake dreaming of the pretty, elusive creature who had wound a chain of
gossamer round his heart and brain, and early in the morning he
repaired to the enchanted spot.  Casting about for some means of
gaining his end, he came upon the hollow trunk of a tree in which a
number of mice gambolled.  With the aid of the charms in his
'medicine'-bag he turned himself into one of these little animals,
thinking the fair sisters would never pierce his disguise.

[Illustration: Algon carries the Captured Maiden home to his Lodge]

That day when the osier car descended its occupants alighted and danced
merrily as they were wont in the magic circle, till the youngest saw
the hollow tree-trunk (which had not been there on the previous day)
and turned to fly.  Her sisters laughed at her fears, and tried to
reassure her by overturning the tree-trunk.  The mice scampered in all
directions, and were quickly pursued by the Star-maidens, who killed
them all except Algon.  The latter regained his own shape just as the
youngest fairy raised her hand to strike him.  Clasping her in his
arms, he bore her to his village, while her frightened sisters ascended
to their Star-country.

Arrived at his home, Algon married the maiden, and {155} by his
kindness and gentleness soon won her affection.  However, her thoughts
still dwelt on her own people, and though she indulged her sorrow only
in secret, lest it should trouble her husband, she never ceased to
lament her lost home.



The Star-Maiden's Escape

One day while she was out with her little son she made a basket of
osiers, like the one in which she had first come to earth.  Gathering
together some flowers and gifts for the Star-people, she took the child
with her into the basket, sang the magical songs she still remembered,
and soon floated up to her own country, where she was welcomed by the
king, her father.

Algon's grief was bitter indeed when he found that his wife and child
had left him.  But he had no means of following them.  Every day he
would go to the magic circle on the prairie and give vent to his
sorrow, but the years went past and there was no sign of his dear ones
returning.

Meanwhile the woman and her son had almost forgotten Algon and the
earth-country.  However, when the boy grew old enough to hear the story
he wished to go and see his father.  His mother consented, and arranged
to go with him.  While they were preparing to descend the Star-people
said:

"Bring Algon with you when you return, and ask him to bring some
feature from every beast and bird he has killed in the chase."

Algon, who had latterly spent almost all his time at the charmed
circle, was overjoyed to see his wife and son come back to him, and
willingly agreed to go with them to the Star-country.  He worked very
hard to obtain a specimen of all the rare and curious birds and beasts
in his land, and when at last he had gathered {156} the relics--a claw
of one, a feather of another, and so on--he piled them in the osier
car, climbed in himself with his wife and boy, and set off to the
Star-country.

The people there were delighted with the curious gifts Algon had
brought them, and, being permitted by their king to take one apiece,
they did so.  Those who took a tail or a claw of any beast at once
became the quadruped represented by the fragment, and those who took
the wings of birds became birds themselves.  Algon and his wife and son
took the feathers of a white falcon and flew down to the prairies,
where their descendants may still be seen.



Cloud-Carrier and the Star-Folk

A handsome youth once dwelt with his parents on the banks of Lake
Huron.  The old people were very proud of their boy, and intended that
he should become a great warrior.  When he grew old enough to prepare
his 'medicine'-bag he set off into the forest for that purpose.  As he
journeyed he grew weary, and lay down to sleep, and while he slept he
heard a gentle voice whisper:

"Cloud-carrier, I have come to fetch you.  Follow me."

The young man started to his feet.

"I am dreaming.  It is but an illusion," he muttered to himself, as he
gazed at the owner of the soft voice, who was a damsel of such
marvellous beauty that the sleepy eyes of Cloud-carrier were quite
dazzled.

"Follow me," she said again, and rose softly from the ground like
thistledown.  To his surprise the youth rose along with her, as lightly
and as easily.  Higher they went, and still higher, far above the
tree-tops, and into the sky, till they passed at length through an
opening in the spreading vault, and Cloud-carrier saw that he was in
the country of the Star-people, and that his beautiful guide was no
mortal {157} maiden, but a supernatural being.  So fascinated was he by
her sweetness and gentleness that he followed her without question till
they came to a large lodge.  Entering it at the invitation of the
Star-maiden, Cloud-carrier found it filled with weapons and ornaments
of silver, worked in strange and grotesque designs.  For a time he
wandered through the lodge admiring and praising all he saw, his
warrior-blood stirring at the sight of the rare weapons.  Suddenly the
lady cried:

"Hush!  My brother approaches!  Let me hide you.  Quick!"

The young man crouched in a corner, and the damsel threw a richly
coloured scarf over him.  Scarcely had she done so when a grave and
dignified warrior stalked into the lodge.

"Nemissa, my dear sister," he said, after a moment's pause, "have you
not been forbidden to speak to the Earth-people?  Perhaps you imagine
you have hidden the young man, but you have not."  Then, turning from
the blushing Nemissa to Cloud-carrier, he added, good-naturedly:

"If you stay long there you will be very hungry.  Come out and let us
have a talk."

The youth did as he was bid, and the brother of Nemissa gave him a pipe
and a bow and arrows.  He gave him also Nemissa for his wife, and for a
long time they lived together very happily.



The Star-Country

Now the young man observed that his brother-in-law was in the habit of
going away every day by himself, and feeling curious to know what his
business might be, he asked one morning whether he might accompany him.

The brother-in-law consented readily, and the two {158} set off.
Travelling in the Star-country was very pleasant.  The foliage was
richer than that of the earth, the flowers more delicately coloured,
the air softer and more fragrant, and the birds and beasts more
graceful and harmless.  As the day wore on to noon Cloud-carrier became
very hungry.

"When can we get something to eat?" he asked his brother-in-law.

"Very soon," was the reassuring reply.  "We are just going to make a
repast."  As he spoke they came to a large opening, through which they
could see the lodges and lakes and forests of the earth.  At one place
some hunters were preparing for the chase.  By the banks of a river
some women were gathering reeds, and down in a village a number of
children were playing happily.

"Do you see that boy down there in the centre of the group?" said the
brother of Nemissa, and as he spoke he threw something at the child.
The poor boy fell down instantly, and was carried, more dead than
alive, to the nearest hut.



The Sacrifice

Cloud-carrier was much perplexed at the act of his supernatural
relative.  He saw the medicine-men gather round the child and chant
prayers for his recovery.

"It is the will of Manitou," said one priest, "that we offer a white
dog as a sacrifice."

So they procured a white dog, skinned and roasted it, and put it on a
plate.  It flew up in the air and provided a meal for the hungry
Cloud-carrier and his companion.  The child recovered and returned to
his play.

"Your medicine-men," said Nemissa's brother, "get {159} a great
reputation for wisdom simply because they direct the people to me.  You
think they are very clever, but all they do is to advise you to
sacrifice to me.  It is I who recover the sick."

Cloud-carrier found in this spot a new source of interest, but at
length the delights of the celestial regions began to pall.  He longed
for the companionship of his own kin, for the old commonplace pastimes
of the Earth-country.  He became, in short, very homesick, and begged
his wife's permission to return to earth.  Very reluctantly she
consented.

"Remember," she said, "that I shall have the power to recall you when I
please, for you will still be my husband.  And above all do not marry
an Earth-woman, or you will taste of my vengeance."

The young man readily promised to respect her injunctions.  So he went
to sleep, and awoke a little later to find himself lying on the grass
close by his father's lodge.  His parents greeted him joyfully.  He had
been absent, they told him, for more than a year, and they had not
hoped to see him again.

The remembrance of his sojourn among the Star-people faded gradually to
a dim recollection.  By and by, forgetting the wife he had left there,
he married a young and handsome woman belonging to his own village.
Four days after the wedding she died, but Cloud-carrier failed to draw
a lesson from this unfortunate occurrence.  He married a third wife.
But one day he was missing, and was never again heard of.  His
Star-wife had recalled him to the sky.



The Snow-Man Husband

In a northern village of the Algonquins dwelt a young girl so
exquisitely beautiful that she attracted hosts of admirers.  The fame
of her beauty spread far {160} and wide, and warriors and hunters
thronged to her father's lodge in order to behold her.  By universal
consent she received the name of 'Handsome.'  One of the braves who was
most assiduous in paying her his addresses was surnamed 'Elegant,'
because of the richness of his costume and the nobility of his
features.  Desiring to know his fate, the young man confided the secret
of his love for Handsome to another of his suitors, and proposed that
they two should that day approach her and ask her hand in marriage.
But the coquettish maiden dismissed the young braves disdainfully, and,
to add to the indignity of her refusal, repeated it in public outside
her father's lodge.  Elegant, who was extremely sensitive, was so
humiliated and mortified that he fell into ill-health.  A deep
melancholy settled on his mind.  He refused all nourishment, and for
hours he would sit with his eyes fixed on the ground in moody
contemplation.  A profound sense of disgrace seized upon him, and
notwithstanding the arguments of his relations and comrades he sank
deeper into lethargy.  Finally he took to his bed, and even when his
family were preparing for the annual migration customary with the tribe
he refused to rise from it, although they removed the tent from above
his head and packed it up for transport.



The Lover's Revenge

After his family had gone Elegant appealed to his guardian spirit or
totem to revenge him on the maiden who had thus cast him into
despondency.  Going from lodge to lodge, he collected all the rags that
he could find, and, kneading snow over a framework of animals' bones,
he moulded it into the shape of a man, which he attired in the tatters
he had gathered, finally covering the whole with brilliant beads and
gaudy feathers so {161} that it presented a very imposing appearance.
By magic art he animated this singular figure, placed a bow and arrows
into its hands, and bestowed on it the name of Moowis.

Together the pair set out for the new encampment of the tribe.  The
brilliant appearance of Moowis caused him to be received by all with
the most marked distinction.  The chieftain of the tribe begged him to
enter his lodge, and entertained him as an honoured guest.  But none
was so struck by the bearing of the noble-looking stranger as Handsome.
Her mother requested him to accept the hospitality of her lodge, which
he duly graced with his presence, but being unable to approach too
closely to the hearth, on which a great fire was burning, he placed a
boy between him and the blaze, in order that he should run no risk of
melting.  Soon the news that Moowis was to wed Handsome ran through the
encampment, and the nuptials were celebrated.  On the following day
Moowis announced his intention of undertaking a long journey.  Handsome
pleaded for leave to accompany him, but he refused on the ground that
the distance was too great and that the fatigues and dangers of the
route would prove too much for her strength.  Finally, however, she
overcame his resistance, and the two set out.



A Strange Transformation

A rough and rugged road had to be traversed by the newly wedded pair.
On every hand they encountered obstacles, and the unfortunate Handsome,
whose feet were cut and bleeding, found the greatest difficulty in
keeping up with her more active husband.  At first it was bitterly
cold, but at length the sun came out and shone in all his strength, so
that the girl forgot her woes and began to sing gaily.  But on the
appearance {162} of the luminary a strange transformation had slowly
overtaken her spouse.  At first he attempted to keep in the shade, to
avoid the golden beams that he knew meant death to him, but all to no
purpose.  The air became gradually warmer, and slowly he dissolved and
fell to pieces, so that his frenzied wife now only beheld his garments,
the bones that had composed his framework, and the gaudy plumes and
beads with which he had been bedecked.  Long she sought his real self,
thinking that some trick had been played upon her; but at length,
exhausted with fatigue and sorrow, she cast herself on the ground, and
with his name on her lips breathed her last.  So was Elegant avenged.



The Spirit-Bride

A story is told of a young Algonquin brave whose bride died on the day
fixed for their wedding.  Before this sad event he had been the most
courageous and high-spirited of warriors and the most skilful of
hunters, but afterward his pride and his bravery seemed to desert him.
In vain his friends urged him to seek the chase and begged him to take
a greater interest in life.  The more they pressed him the more
melancholy he became, till at length he passed most of his time by the
grave of his bride.

[Illustration: Moowis had melted in the Sun]

He was roused from his state of apathy one day, however, by hearing
some old men discussing the existence of a path to the Spirit-world,
which they supposed lay to the south.  A gleam of hope shone in the
young brave's breast, and, worn with sorrow as he was, he armed himself
and set off southward.  For a long time he saw no appreciable change in
his surroundings--rivers, mountains, lakes, and forests similar to
those of his own country environed him.  But after a weary journey of
many days he fancied he saw a {163} difference.  The sky was more blue,
the prairie more fertile, the scenery more gloriously beautiful.  From
the conversation he had overheard before he set out, the young brave
judged that he was nearing the Spirit-world.  Just as he emerged from a
spreading forest he saw before him a little lodge set high on a hill.
Thinking its occupants might be able to direct him to his destination,
he climbed to the lodge and accosted an aged man who stood in the
doorway.

"Can you tell me the way to the Spirit-world?" he inquired.



The Island of the Blessed

"Yes," said the old man gravely, throwing aside his cloak of swan's
skin.  "Only a few days ago she whom you seek rested in my lodge.  If
you will leave your body here you may follow her.  To reach the Island
of the Blessed you must cross yonder gulf you see in the distance.  But
I warn you the crossing will be no easy matter.  Do you still wish to
go?"

"Oh, yes, yes," cried the warrior eagerly, and as the words were
uttered he felt himself grow suddenly lighter.  The whole aspect, too,
of the scene was changed.  Everything looked brighter and more
ethereal.  He found himself in a moment walking through thickets which
offered no resistance to his passage, and he knew that he was a spirit,
travelling in the Spirit-world.  When he reached the gulf which the old
man had indicated he found to his delight a wonderful canoe ready on
the shore.  It was cut from a single white stone, and shone and
sparkled in the sun like a jewel.  The warrior lost no time in
embarking, and as he put off from the shore he saw his pretty bride
enter just such another canoe as his and imitate all his movements.
Side by side they made for the Island of the Blessed, a {164} charming
woody islet set in the middle of the water, like an emerald in silver.
When they were about half-way across a sudden storm arose, and the huge
waves threatened to engulf them.  Many other people had embarked on the
perilous waters by this time, some of whom perished in the furious
tempest.  But the youth and maiden still battled on bravely, never
losing sight of one another.  Because they were good and innocent, the
Master of Life had decreed that they should arrive safely at the fair
island, and after a weary struggle they felt their canoes grate on the
shore.

Hand in hand the lovers walked among the beautiful sights and sounds
that greeted their eyes and ears from every quarter.  There was no
trace of the recent storm.  The sea was as smooth as glass and the sky
as clear as crystal.  The youth and his bride felt that they could
wander on thus for ever.  But at length a faint, sweet voice bade the
former return to his home in the Earth-country.



The Master of Life

"You must finish your mortal course," it whispered softly.  "You will
become a great chief among your own people.  Rule wisely and well, and
when your earthly career is over you shall return to your bride, who
will retain her youth and beauty for ever."

The young man recognized the voice as that of the Master of Life, and
sadly bade farewell to the woman.  He was not without hope now,
however, but looked forward to another and more lasting reunion.

Returning to the old man's lodge, he regained his body, went home as
the gentle voice on the island had commanded him, and became a father
to his people for many years.  By his just and kindly rule he won the
hearts of all who knew him, and ensured for himself a {165} safe
passage to the Island of the Blessed, where he arrived at last to
partake of everlasting happiness with his beautiful bride.



Otter-Heart

In the heart of a great forest lay a nameless little lake, and by its
side dwelt two children.  Wicked magicians had slain their parents
while they were yet of tender years, and the little orphans were
obliged to fend for themselves.  The younger of the two, a boy, learned
to shoot with bow and arrow, and he soon acquired such skill that he
rarely returned from a hunting expedition without a specimen of his
prowess in the shape of a bird or a hare, which his elder sister would
dress and cook.

When the boy grew older he naturally felt the need of some
companionship other than that of his sister.  During his long, solitary
journeys in search of food he thought a good deal about the great world
outside the barrier of the still, silent forest.  He longed for the
sound of human voices to replace the murmuring of the trees and the
cries of the birds.

"Are there no Indians but ourselves in the whole world?" he would ask
wistfully.

"I do not know," his sister invariably replied.  Busying herself
cheerfully about her household tasks, she knew nothing of the strange
thoughts that were stirring in the mind of her brother.

But one day he returned from the chase in so discontented a mood that
his unrest could no longer pass unnoticed.  In response to solicitous
inquiries from his sister, he said abruptly:

"Make me ten pairs of moccasins.  To-morrow I am going to travel into
the great world."

The girl was much disturbed by this communication, {166} but like a
good Indian maiden she did as he requested her and kept a respectful
silence.

Early on the following morning the youth, whose name was Otter-heart,
set out on his quest.  He soon came to a clearing in the forest, but to
his disappointment he found that the tree-stumps were old and rotten.

"It is a long, long time," he said mournfully, "since there were
Indians here."

In order that he might find his way back, he suspended a pair of
moccasins from the branch of a tree, and continued his journey.  Other
clearings he reached in due time, each showing traces of a more recent
occupation than the last, but still it seemed to him that a long time
must have elapsed since the trees were cut down, so he hung up a pair
of moccasins at each stage of his journey, and pursued his course in
search of human beings.

At last he saw before him an Indian village, which he approached with
mingled feelings of pleasure and trepidation, natural enough when it is
remembered that since his early childhood he had spoken to no one but
his sister.



The Ball-Players

On the outskirts of the village some youths of about his own age were
engaged in a game of ball, in which they courteously invited the
stranger to join.  Very soon he had forgotten his natural shyness so
far as to enter into the sport with whole-hearted zest and enjoyment.
His new companions, for their part, were filled with astonishment at
his skill and agility, and, wishing to do him honour, led him to the
great lodge and introduced him to their chief.

Now the chief had two daughters, one of whom was {167} surnamed 'The
Good' and the other 'The Wicked.'  To the guest the names sounded
rather suggestive, and he was not a little embarrassed when the chief
begged him to marry the maidens.

"I will marry 'The Good,'" he declared.

But the chief would not agree to that.

"You must marry both," he said firmly.

Here was a dilemma for our hero, who had no wish to wed the cross, ugly
sister.  He tried hard to think of a way of escape.

"I am going to visit So-and-so," he said at last, mentioning the name
of one of his companions at ball, and he dressed himself carefully as
though he were about to pay a ceremonious visit.

Directly he was out of sight of the chief's lodge, however, he took to
his heels and ran into the forest as hard as he could.  Meanwhile the
maidens sat waiting their intended bridegroom.  When some hours passed
without there being any signs of his coming they became alarmed, and
set off to look for him.

Toward nightfall the young Otter-heart relaxed his speed.  "I am quite
safe now," he thought.  He did not know that the sisters had the
resources of magic at their command.  Suddenly he heard wild laughter
behind him.  Recognizing the shrill voice of The Wicked, he knew that
he was discovered, and cast about for a refuge.  The only likely place
was in the branches of a dense fir-tree, and almost as soon as the
thought entered his mind he was at the top.  His satisfaction was
short-lived.  In a moment the laughter of the women broke out anew, and
they commenced to hew down the tree.  But Otter-heart himself was not
without some acquaintance with magic art.  Plucking a small fir-cone
from the tree-top, he threw it into the air, jumped astride it, and
rode down {168} the wind for half a mile or more.  The sisters,
absorbed in their task of cutting down the tree, did not notice that
their bird was flown.  When at last the great fir crashed to the ground
and the youth was nowhere to be seen the pursuers tore their hair in
rage and disappointment.



Otter-Heart's Stratagem

Only on the following evening did they overtake Otter-heart again.
This time he had entered a hollow cedar-tree, the hard wood of which he
thought would defy their axes.  But he had under-estimated the energy
of the sisters.  In a short time the tree showed the effect of their
blows, and Otter-heart called on his guardian spirit to break one of
the axes.

His wish was promptly gratified, but the other sister continued her
labours with increased energy.  Otter-heart now wished that the other
axe might break, and again his desire was fulfilled.  The sisters were
at a loss to know what to do.

"We cannot take him by force," said one; "we must take him by subtlety.
Let each do her best, and the one who gets him can keep him."

So they departed, and Otter-heart was free to emerge from his prison.
He travelled another day's journey from the spot, and at last, reaching
a place where he thought he would be safe, he laid down his blanket and
went in search of food.  Fortune favoured the hunter, and he shortly
returned with a fine beaver.  What was his amazement when he beheld a
handsome lodge where he had left his blanket!

"It must be those women again," he muttered, preparing to fly.  But the
light shone so warmly from the lodge, and he was so tired and hungry,
that he conquered his fears and entered.  Within he found a {169} tall,
thin woman, pale and hungry-eyed, but rather pretty.  Taking the
beaver, she proceeded to cook it.  As she did so Otter-heart noticed
that she ate all the best parts herself, and when the meal was set out
only the poorest pieces remained for him.  This was so unlike an Indian
housewife that he cast reproaches at her and accused her of greediness.
As he spoke a curious change came over her.  Her features grew longer
and thinner.  In a moment she had turned into a wolf and slunk into the
forest.  It was The Wicked, who had made herself pretty by means of
magic, but could not conceal her voracious nature.

Otter-heart was glad to have found her out.  He journeyed on still
farther, laid down his blanket, and went to look for game.  This time
several beavers rewarded his skill, and he carried them to the place
where he had left his blanket.  Another handsome lodge had been erected
there!  More than ever he wanted to run away, but once more his hunger
and fatigue detained him.

[Illustration: "He rode down the wind"]

"Perhaps it is The Good," he said.  "I shall go inside, and if she has
laid my blanket near her couch I shall take it for a sign and she shall
become my wife."



The Beaver-Woman

He entered the lodge, and found a small, pretty woman busily engaged in
household duties.  Sure enough she had laid his blanket near her couch.
When she had dressed and cooked the beavers she gave the finest morsels
to her husband, who was thoroughly pleased with his wife.

Hearing a sound in the night, Otter-heart awoke, and fancied he saw his
wife chewing birch-bark.  When he told her of the dream in the morning
she did not laugh, but looked very serious.

{170}

"Tell me," asked Otter-heart, "why did you examine the beavers so
closely yesterday?"

"They were my relatives," she replied; "my cousin, my aunt, and my
great-uncle."

Otter-heart was more than ever delighted, for the otters, his
totem-kin, and the beavers had always been on very good terms.  He
promised never to kill any more beavers, but only deer and birds, and
he and his wife, The Good, lived together very happily for a long time.



The Fairy Wives

Once upon a time there dwelt in the forest two braves, one of whom was
called the Moose and the other the Marten.  Moose was a great hunter,
and never returned from the chase without a fine deer or buffalo, which
he would give to his old grandmother to prepare for cooking.  Marten,
on the other hand, was an idler, and never hunted at all if he could
obtain food by any other means.  When Moose brought home a trophy of
his skill in the hunt Marten would repair to his friend's lodge and beg
for a portion of the meat.  Being a good-natured fellow, Moose
generally gave him what he asked for, to the indignation of the old
grandmother, who declared that the lazy creature had much better learn
to work for himself.

"Do not encourage his idle habits," said she to her grandson.  "If you
stop giving him food he will go and hunt for himself."

Moose agreed with the old woman, and having on his next expedition
killed a bear, he told the grandmother to hide it, so that Marten might
know nothing of it.

When the time came to cook the bear-meat, however, the grandmother
found that her kettle would not {171} hold water, and remembering that
Marten had just got a nice new kettle, she went to borrow his.

"I will clean it well before I return it," she thought.  "He will never
know what I want it for."

But Marten made a very good guess, so he laid a spell on the kettle
before lending it, and afterward set out for Moose's lodge.  Looking
in, he beheld a great quantity of bear-meat.

"I shall have a fine feast to-morrow," said he, laughing, as he stole
quietly away without being seen.

On the following day the old grandmother of Moose took the borrowed
kettle, cleaned it carefully, and carried it to its owner.  She never
dreamed that he would suspect anything.

"Oh," said Marten, "what a fine kettleful of bear-meat you have brought
me!"

"I have brought you nothing," the old woman began in astonishment, but
a glance at her kettle showed her that it was full of steaming
bear-meat.  She was much confused, and knew that Marten had discovered
her plot by magic art.



Moose Demands a Wife

Though Marten was by no means so brave or so industrious as Moose, he
nevertheless had two very beautiful wives, while his companion had not
even one.  Moose thought this rather unfair, so he ventured to ask
Marten for one of his wives.  To this Marten would not agree, nor would
either of the women consent to be handed over to Moose, so there was
nothing for it but that the braves should fight for the wives, who, all
unknown to their husband, were fairies.  And fight they did, that day
and the next and the next, till it grew to be a habit with them, and
they fought as regularly as they slept.

{172}

In the morning Moose would say: "Give me one of your wives."  "Paddle
your own canoe," Marten would retort, and the fight would begin.  Next
morning Moose would say again: "Give me one of your wives."  "Fish for
your own minnows," the reply would come, and the quarrel would be
continued with tomahawks for arguments.

"Give me one of your wives," Moose persisted.

"Skin your own rabbits!"

Meanwhile the wives of Marten had grown tired of the perpetual
skirmishing.  So they made up their minds to run away.  Moose and
Marten never missed them: they were too busy righting.

All day the fairy wives, whose name was Weasel, travelled as fast as
they could, for they did not want to be caught.  But when night came
they lay down on the banks of a stream and watched the stars shining
through the pine-branches.

"If you were a Star-maiden," said one, "and wished to marry a star,
which one would you choose?"

"I would marry that bright little red one," said the other.  "I am sure
he must be a merry little fellow."

"I," said her companion, "should like to marry that big yellow one.  I
think he must be a great warrior."  And so saying she fell asleep.



The Red Star and the Yellow Star

When they awoke in the morning the fairies found that their wishes were
fulfilled.  One was the wife of the great yellow star, and the other
the wife of the little red one.

This was the work of an Indian spirit, whose duty it is to punish
unfaithful wives, and who had overheard their remarks on the previous
night.  Knowing that the fulfilment of their wishes would be the best
{173} punishment, he transported them to the Star-country, where they
were wedded to the stars of their choice.  And punishment it was, for
the Yellow Star was a fierce warrior who frightened his wife nearly out
of her wits, and the Red Star was an irritable old man, and his wife
was obliged to wait on him hand and foot.  Before very long the fairies
found their life in the Star-country exceedingly irksome, and they
wished they had never quitted their home.

Not far from their lodges was a large white stone, which their husbands
had forbidden them to touch, but which their curiosity one day tempted
them to remove.  Far below they saw the Earth-country, and they became
sadder and more home-sick than ever.  The Star-husbands, whose magic
powers told them that their wives had been disobedient, were not really
cruel or unkind at heart, so they decided to let the fairies return to
earth.

"We do not want wives who will not obey," they said, "so you may go to
your own country if you will be obedient once."

The fairies joyfully promised to do whatever was required of them if
they might return home.

"Very well," the stars replied.  "You must sleep to-night, and in the
morning you will wake and hear the song of the chickadee, but do not
open your eyes.  Then you will hear the voice of the ground-squirrel;
still you must not rise.  The red squirrel also you shall hear, but the
success of our scheme depends on your remaining quiet.  Only when you
hear the striped squirrel you may get up."



The Return to Earth

The fairies went to their couch and slept, but their sleep was broken
by impatience.  In the morning the {174} chickadee woke them with its
song.  The younger fairy eagerly started up, but the other drew her
back.

"Let us wait till we hear the striped squirrel," said she.

When the red squirrel's note was heard the younger fairy could no
longer curb her impatience.  She sprang to her feet, dragging her
companion with her.  They had indeed reached the Earth-country, but in
a way that helped them but little, for they found themselves in the
topmost branches of the highest tree in the forest, with no prospect of
getting down.  In vain they called to the birds and animals to help
them; all the creatures were too busy to pay any attention to their
plight.  At last Lox, the wolverine, passed under the tree, and though
he was the wickedest of the animals the Weasels cried to him for help.

"If you will promise to come to my lodge," said Lox, "I will help you."

"We will build lodges for you," cried the elder fairy, who had been
thinking of a way of escape.

"That is well," said Lox; "I will take you down."

While he was descending the tree with the younger of the fairies the
elder one wound her magic hair-string in the branches, knotting it
skilfully, so that the task of undoing it would be no light one.  When
she in her turn had been carried to the ground she begged Lox to return
for her hair-string, which, she said, had become entangled among the
branches.

"Pray do not break it," she added, "for if you do I shall have no good
fortune."



The Escape from Lox

Once more Lox ascended the tall pine, and strove with the knots which
the cunning fairy had tied.  Meanwhile the Weasels built him a wigwam.
They {175} filled it with thorns and briers and all sorts of prickly
things, and induced their friends the ants and hornets to make their
nests inside.  So long did Lox take to untie the knotted hair-string
that when he came down it was quite dark.  He was in a very bad temper,
and pushed his way angrily into the new lodge.  All the little
creatures attacked him instantly, the ants bit him, the thorns pricked
him, so that he cried out with anger and pain.

The fairies ran away as fast as they could, and by and by found
themselves on the brink of a wide river.  The younger sat down and
began to weep, thinking that Lox would certainly overtake them.  But
the elder was more resourceful.  She saw the Crane, who was ferryman,
standing close by, and sang a very sweet song in praise of his long
legs and soft feathers.

[Illustration: "'Will you carry us over the river?' she asked"]

"Will you carry us over the river?" she asked at length.

"Willingly," replied the Crane, who was very susceptible to flattery,
and he ferried them across the river.

They were just in time.  Scarcely had they reached the opposite bank
when Lox appeared on the scene, very angry and out of breath.

"Ferry me across, Old Crooked-legs," said he, and added other still
more uncomplimentary remarks.

The Crane was furious, but he said nothing, and bore Lox out on the
river.

"I see you," cried Lox to the trembling fairies.  "I shall have you
soon!"

"You shall not, wicked one," said the Crane, and he threw Lox into the
deepest part of the stream.

The fairies turned their faces homeward and saw him no more.



{176}

The Malicious Mother-in-Law

An Ojibway or Chippeway legend tells of a hunter who was greatly
devoted to his wife.  As a proof of his affection he presented her with
the most delicate morsels from the game he killed.  This aroused the
jealousy and envy of his mother, who lived with them, and who imagined
that these little attentions should be paid to her, and not to the
younger woman.  The latter, quite unaware of her mother-in-law's
attitude, cooked and ate the gifts her husband brought her.  Being a
woman of a gentle and agreeable disposition, who spent most of her time
attending to her household duties and watching over her child and a
little orphan boy whom she had adopted, she tried to make friends with
the old dame, and was grieved and disappointed when the latter would
not respond to her advances.

The mother-in-law nursed her grievance until it seemed of gigantic
proportions.  Her heart grew blacker and blacker against her son's
wife, and at last she determined to kill her.  For a time she could
think of no way to put her evil intent into action, but finally she hit
upon a plan.

One day she disappeared from the lodge, and returned after a space
looking very happy and good-tempered.  The younger woman was surprised
and delighted at the alteration.  This was an agreeably different
person from the nagging, cross-grained old creature who had made her
life a burden!  The old woman repeatedly absented herself from her home
after this, returning on each occasion with a pleased and contented
smile on her wrinkled face.  By and by the wife allowed her curiosity
to get the better of her, and she asked the meaning of her
mother-in-law's happiness.



{177}

The Death-Swing

"If you must know," replied the old woman, "I have made a beautiful
swing down by the lake, and always when I swing on it I feel so well
and happy that I cannot help smiling."

The young woman begged that she too might be allowed to enjoy the swing.

"To-morrow you may accompany me," was the reply.  But next day the old
woman had some excuse, and so on, day after day, till the curiosity of
her son's wife was very keen.  Thus when the elder woman said one day,
"Come with me, and I will take you to the swing.  Tie up your baby and
leave him in charge of the orphan," the other complied eagerly, and was
ready in a moment to go with her mother-in-law.

When they reached the shores of the lake they found a lithe sapling
which hung over the water.

"Here is my swing," said the old creature, and she cast aside her robe,
fastened a thong to her waist and to the sapling, and swung far over
the lake.  She laughed so much and seemed to find the pastime so
pleasant that her daughter-in-law was more anxious than ever to try it
for herself.

"Let me tie the thong for you," said the old woman, when she had tired
of swinging.  Her companion threw off her robe and allowed the leather
thong to be fastened round her waist.  When all was ready she was
commanded to swing.  Out over the water she went fearlessly, but as she
did so the jealous old mother-in-law cut the thong, and she fell into
the lake.

The old creature, exulting over the success of her cruel scheme,
dressed herself in her victim's clothes and returned to the lodge.  But
the baby cried and refused to be fed by her, and the orphan boy cried
too, {178} for the young woman had been almost a mother to him since
his parents had died.

"Where is the baby's mother?" he asked, when some hours had passed and
she did not return.

"At the swing," replied the old woman roughly.

When the hunter returned from the chase he brought with him, as usual,
some morsels of game for his wife, and, never dreaming that the woman
bending over the child might not be she, he gave them to her.  The
lodge was dark, for it was evening, and his mother wore the clothes of
his wife and imitated her voice and movements, so that his error was
not surprising.  Greedily she seized the tender pieces of meat, and
cooked and ate them.

The heart of the little orphan was so sore that he could not sleep.  In
the middle of the night he rose and went to look for his foster-mother.
Down by the lake he found the swing with the thong cut, and he knew
that she had been killed.  Crying bitterly, he crept home to his couch,
and in the morning told the hunter all that he had seen.

"Say nothing," said the chief, "but come with me to hunt, and in the
evening return to the shores of the lake with the child, while I pray
to Manitou that he may send me back my wife."



The Silver Girdle

So they went off in search of game without a word to the old woman; nor
did they stay to eat, but set out directly it was light.  At sunset
they made their way to the lake-side, the little orphan carrying the
baby.  Here the hunter blackened his face and prayed earnestly that the
Great Manitou might send back his wife.  While he prayed the orphan
amused the child by singing quaint little songs; but at last the baby
grew weary and hungry and began to cry.

{179}

Far in the lake his mother heard the sound, and skimmed over the water
in the shape of a great white gull.  When she touched the shore she
became a woman again, and hugged the child to her heart's content.  The
orphan boy besought her to return to them.

"Alas!" said she, "I have fallen into the hands of the Water Manitou,
and he has wound his silver tail about me, so that I never can escape."

As she spoke the little lad saw that her waist was encircled by a band
of gleaming silver, one end of which was in the water.  At length she
declared that it was time for her to return to the home of the
water-god, and after having exacted a promise from the boy that he
would bring her baby there every day, she became a gull again and flew
away.  The hunter was informed of all that had passed, and straightway
determined that he would be present on the following evening.  All next
day he fasted and besought the good-will of Manitou, and when the night
began to fall he hid himself on the shore till his wife appeared.
Hastily emerging from his concealment, the hunter poised his spear and
struck the girdle with all his force.  The silver band parted, and the
woman was free to return home with her husband.

[Illustration: "He poised his spear and struck the girdle"]

Overjoyed at her restoration, he led her gently to the lodge, where his
mother was sitting by the fire.  At the sight of her daughter-in-law,
whom she thought she had drowned in the lake, she started up in such
fear and astonishment that she tripped, overbalanced, and fell into the
fire.  Before they could pull her out the flames had risen to the
smoke-hole, and when the fire died down no woman was there, but a great
black bird, which rose slowly from the smoking embers, flew out of the
lodge, and was never seen again.

{180}

As for the others, they lived long and happily, undisturbed by the
jealousy and hatred of the malicious crone.



The Maize Spirit

The Chippeways tell a charming story concerning the origin of the zea
maize, which runs as follows:

A lad of fourteen or fifteen dwelt with his parents, brothers, and
sisters in a beautifully situated little lodge.  The family, though
poor, were very happy and contented.  The father was a hunter who was
not lacking in courage and skill, but there were times when he could
scarcely supply the wants of his family, and as none of his children
was old enough to help him things went hardly with them then.  The lad
was of a cheerful and contented disposition, like his father, and his
great desire was to benefit his people.  The time had come for him to
observe the initial fast prescribed for all Indian boys of his age, and
his mother made him a little fasting-lodge in a remote spot where he
might not suffer interruption during his ordeal.

Thither the boy repaired, meditating on the goodness of the Great
Spirit, who had made all things beautiful in the fields and forests for
the enjoyment of man.  The desire to help his fellows was strong upon
him, and he prayed that some means to that end might be revealed to him
in a dream.

On the third day of his fast he was too weak to ramble through the
forest, and as he lay in a state between sleeping and waking there came
toward him a beautiful youth, richly dressed in green robes, and
wearing on his head wonderful green plumes.

"The Great Spirit has heard your prayers," said the youth, and his
voice was like the sound of the wind sighing through the grass.
"Hearken to me and you {181} shall have your desire fulfilled.  Arise
and wrestle with me."



The Struggle

The lad obeyed.  Though his limbs were weak his brain was clear and
active, and he felt he could not but obey the soft-voiced stranger.
After a long, silent struggle the latter said:

"That will do for to-day.  To-morrow I shall come again."

The lad lay back exhausted, but on the morrow the green-clad stranger
reappeared, and the conflict was renewed.  As the struggle went on the
youth felt himself grow stronger and more confident, and before leaving
him for the second time the supernatural visitor offered him some words
of praise and encouragement.

On the third day the youth, pale and feeble, was again summoned to the
contest.  As he grasped his opponent the very contact seemed to give
him new strength, and he fought more and more bravely, till his lithe
companion was forced to cry out that he had had enough.  Ere he took
his departure the visitor told the lad that the following day would put
an end to his trials.

"To-morrow," said he, "your father will bring you food, and that will
help you.  In the evening I shall come and wrestle with you.  I know
that you are destined to succeed and to obtain your heart's desire.
When you have thrown me, strip off my garments and plumes, bury me
where I fall, and keep the earth above me moist and clean.  Once a
month let my remains be covered with fresh earth, and you shall see me
again, clothed in my green garments and plumes."  So saying, he
vanished.



{182}

The Final Contest

Next day the lad's father brought him food; the youth, however, begged
that it might be set aside till evening.  Once again the stranger
appeared.  Though he had eaten nothing, the hero's strength, as before,
seemed to increase as he struggled, and at length he threw his
opponent.  Then he stripped off his garments and plumes, and buried him
in the earth, not without sorrow in his heart for the slaying of such a
beautiful youth.

His task done, he returned to his parents, and soon recovered his full
strength.  But he never forgot the grave of his friend.  Not a weed was
allowed to grow on it, and finally he was rewarded by seeing the green
plumes rise above the earth and broaden out into graceful leaves.  When
the autumn came he requested his father to accompany him to the place.
By this time the plant was at its full height, tall and beautiful, with
waving leaves and golden tassels.  The elder man was filled with
surprise and admiration.

"It is my friend," murmured the youth, "the friend of my dreams."

"It is Mon-da-min," said his father, "the spirit's grain, the gift of
the Great Spirit."

And in this manner was maize given to the Indians.



The Seven Brothers

The Blackfeet have a curious legend in explanation of the constellation
known as the Plough or Great Bear.  Once there dwelt together nine
children, seven boys and two girls.  While the six older brothers were
away on the war-path the elder daughter, whose name was Bearskin-woman,
married a grizzly bear.  Her father was so enraged that he collected
his friends and {183} ordered them to surround the grizzly's cave and
slay him.  When the girl heard that her spouse had been killed she took
a piece of his skin and wore it as an amulet.  Through the agency of
her husband's supernatural power, one dark night she was changed into a
grizzly bear, and rushed through the camp, killing and rending the
people, even her own father and mother, sparing only her youngest
brother and her sister, Okinai and Sinopa.  She then took her former
shape, and returned to the lodge occupied by the two orphans, who were
greatly terrified when they heard her muttering to herself, planning
their deaths.

Sinopa had gone to the river one day, when she met her six brothers
returning from the war-path.  She told them what had happened in their
absence.  They reassured her, and bade her gather a large number of
prickly pears.  These she was to strew in front of the lodge, leaving
only a small path uncovered by them.  In the dead of night Okinai and
Sinopa crept out of the lodge, picking their way down the little path
that was free from the prickly pears, and meeting their six brothers,
who were awaiting them.  The Bearskin-woman heard them leaving the
lodge, and rushed out into the open, only to tread on the prickly
pears.  Roaring with pain and anger, she immediately assumed her bear
shape and rushed furiously at her brothers.  But Okinai rose to the
occasion.  He shot an arrow into the air, and so far as it flew the
brothers and sister found themselves just that distance in front of the
savage animal behind them.



The Chase

The beast gained on them, however; but Okinai waved a magic feather,
and thick underbrush rose in its path.  Again Bearskin-woman made
headway.  {184} Okinai caused a lake to spring up before her.  Yet
again she neared the brothers and sister, and this time Okinai raised a
great tree, into which the refugees climbed.  The Grizzly-woman,
however, succeeded in dragging four of the brothers from the tree, when
Okinai shot an arrow into the air.  Immediately his little sister
sailed into the sky.  Six times more he shot an arrow, and each time a
brother went up, Okinai himself following them as the last arrow soared
into the blue.  Thus the orphans became stars; and one can see that
they took the same position in the sky as they had occupied in the
tree, for the small star at one side of the bunch is Sinopa, while the
four who huddle together at the bottom are those who had been dragged
from the branches by Bearskin-woman.



The Beaver Medicine Legend[2]

Two brothers dwelt together in the old time.  The elder, who was named
Nopatsis, was married to a woman who was wholly evil, and who hated his
younger brother, Akaiyan.  Daily the wife pestered her husband to be
rid of Akaiyan, but he would not agree to part with his only brother,
for they had been together through long years of privation--indeed,
since their parents had left them together as little helpless
orphans--and they were all in all to each other.  So the wife of
Nopatsis had resort to a ruse well known to women whose hearts are
evil.  One day when her husband returned from the chase he found her
lamenting with torn clothes and disordered appearance.  She told him
that Akaiyan had treated her brutally.  The lie entered into the heart
of Nopatsis and made it heavy, so that in time he conceived a hatred of
his innocent brother, and {185} debated with himself how he should rid
himself of Akaiyan.


[2] The first portion of this legend has its exact counterpart in
Egyptian story.  See Wiedemann, _Popular Literature of Ancient Egypt_,
p. 45.


Summer arrived, and with it the moulting season when the wild
water-fowl shed their feathers, with which the Indians fledge their
arrows.  Near Nopatsis's lodge there was a great lake, to which these
birds resorted in large numbers, and to this place the brothers went to
collect feathers with which to plume their darts.  They built a raft to
enable them to reach an island in the middle of the lake, making it of
logs bound securely with buffalo-hide.  Embarking, they sailed to the
little island, along the shores of which they walked, looking for
suitable feathers.  They parted in the quest, and after some time
Akaiyan, who had wandered far along the strand, suddenly looked up to
see his brother on the raft sailing toward the mainland.  He called
loudly to him to return, but Nopatsis replied that he deserved to
perish there because of the brutal manner in which he had treated his
sister-in-law.  Akaiyan solemnly swore that he had not injured her in
any way, but Nopatsis only jeered at him, and rowed away.  Soon he was
lost to sight, and Akaiyan sat down and wept bitterly.  He prayed
earnestly to the nature spirits and to the sun and moon, after which he
felt greatly uplifted.  Then he improvised a shelter of branches, and
made a bed of feathers of the most comfortable description.  He lived
well on the ducks and geese which frequented the island, and made a
warm robe against the winter season from their skins.  He was careful
also to preserve many of the tame birds for his winter food.

One day he encountered the lodge of a beaver, and while he looked at it
curiously he became aware of the presence of a little beaver.

"My father desires that you will enter his dwelling," said the animal.
So Akaiyan accepted the invitation {186} and entered the lodge, where
the Great Beaver, attended by his wife and family, received him.  He
was, indeed, the chief of all the beavers, and white with the snows of
countless winters.  Akaiyan told the Beaver how cruelly he had been
treated, and the wise animal condoled with him, and invited him to
spend the winter in his lodge, when he would learn many wonderful and
useful things.  Akaiyan gratefully accepted the invitation, and when
the beavers closed up their lodge for the winter he remained with them.
They kept him warm by placing their thick, soft tails on his body, and
taught him the secret of the healing art, the use of tobacco, and
various ceremonial dances, songs, and prayers belonging to the great
mystery of 'medicine.'

The summer returned, and on parting the Beaver asked Akaiyan to choose
a gift.  He chose the Beaver's youngest child, with whom he had
contracted a strong friendship; but the father prized his little one
greatly, and would not at first permit him to go.  At length, however,
Great Beaver gave way to Akaiyan's entreaties and allowed him to take
Little Beaver with him, counselling him to construct a sacred Beaver
Bundle when he arrived at his native village.

In due time Nopatsis came to the island on his raft, and, making sure
that his brother was dead, began to search for his remains.  But while
he searched, Akaiyan caught up Little Beaver in his arms and, embarking
on the raft, made for the mainland, espied by Nopatsis.  When Akaiyan
arrived at his native village he told his story to the chief, gathered
a Beaver Bundle, and commenced to teach the people the mystery of
'medicine,' with its accompanying songs and dances.  Then he invited
the chiefs of the animal tribes to contribute their knowledge to the
Beaver Medicine, which many of them did.

{187}

Having accomplished his task of instruction, which occupied him all the
winter, Akaiyan returned to the island with Little Beaver, who had been
of immense service to him in teaching the Indians the 'medicine' songs
and dances.  He returned Little Beaver to his parents, and received in
exchange for him a sacred pipe, being also instructed in its
accompanying songs and ceremonial dances.  On the island he found the
bones of his credulous and vengeful brother, who had met with the fate
he had purposed for the innocent Akaiyan.  Every spring Akaiyan visited
the beavers, and as regularly he received something to add to the
Beaver Medicine Bundle, until it reached the great size it now has.
And he married and founded a race of medicine-men who have handed down
the traditions and ceremonials of the Beaver Medicine to the present
day.



The Sacred Bear-Spear

An interesting Blackfoot myth relates how that tribe obtained its
sacred Bear-spear.  Many generations ago, even before the Blackfeet
used horses as beasts of burden, the tribe was undertaking its autumn
migration, when one evening before striking camp for the night it was
reported that a dog-sledge or cart belonging to the chief was missing.
To make matters worse, the chief's ermine robe and his wife's buckskin
dress, with her sacred elk-skin robe, had been packed in the little
cart.  Strangely enough, no one could recollect having noticed the dog
during the march.  Messengers were dispatched to the camping-site of
the night before, but to no avail.  At last the chief's son, Sokumapi,
a boy about twelve years of age, begged to be allowed to search for the
missing dog, a proposal to which his father, after some demur,
consented.  Sokumapi set out alone for the last camping-ground, which
was under {188} the shadows of the Rocky Mountains, and carefully
examined the site.  Soon he found a single dog-sledge track leading
into a deep gulch, near the entrance to which he discovered a large
cave.  A heap of freshly turned earth stood in front of the cave,
beside which was the missing cart.  As he stood looking at it,
wondering what had become of the dog which had drawn it, an immense
grizzly-bear suddenly dashed out.  So rapid was its attack that
Sokumapi had no chance either to defend himself or to take refuge in
flight.  The bear, giving vent to the most terrific roars, dragged him
into the cave, hugging him with such force that he fainted.  When he
regained consciousness it was to find the bear's great head within a
foot of his own, and he thought that he saw a kindly and almost human
expression in its big brown eyes.  For a long time he lay still, until
at last, to his intense surprise, the Bear broke the silence by
addressing him in human speech.

"Have no fear," said the grizzly.  "I am the Great Bear, and my power
is extensive.  I know the circumstances of your search, and I have
drawn you to this cavern because I desired to assist you.  Winter is
upon us, and you had better remain with me during the cold season, in
the course of which I will reveal to you the secret of my supernatural
power."



Bear Magic

It will be observed that the circumstances of this tale are almost
identical with those which relate to the manner in which the Beaver
Medicine was revealed to mankind.  The hero of both stories remains
during the winter with the animal, the chief of its species, who in the
period of hibernation instructs him in certain potent mysteries.

{189}

The Bear, having reassured Sokumapi, showed him how to transform
various substances into food.  His strange host slept during most of
the winter; but when the warm winds of spring returned and the snows
melted from the hills the grizzly became restless, and told Sokumapi
that it was time to leave the cave.  Before they quitted it, however,
he taught the lad the secret of his supernatural power.  Among other
things, he showed him how to make a Bear-spear.  He instructed him to
take a long stick, to one end of which he must secure a sharp point, to
symbolize the bear's tusks.  To the staff must be attached a bear's
nose and teeth, while the rest of the spear was to be covered with
bear's skin, painted the sacred colour, red.  The Bear also told him to
decorate the handle with eagle's feathers and grizzly claws, and in
war-time to wear a grizzly claw in his hair, so that the strength of
the Great Bear might go with him in battle, and to imitate the noise a
grizzly makes when it charges.  The Bear furthermore instructed him
what songs should be used in order to heal the sick, and how to paint
his face and body so that he would be invulnerable in battle, and,
lastly, told him of the sacred nature of the spear, which was only to
be employed in warfare and for curing disease.  Thus if a person was
sick unto death, and a relative purchased the Bear-spear, its
supernatural power would restore the ailing man to health.  Equipped
with this knowledge, Sokumapi returned to his people, who had long
mourned him as dead.  After a feast had been given to celebrate his
home-coming he began to manufacture the Bear-spear as directed by his
friend.



How the Magic Worked

Shortly after his return the Crows made war upon the Blackfeet, and on
the meeting of the two tribes in {190} battle Sokumapi appeared in
front of his people carrying the Bear-spear on his back.  His face and
body were painted as the Great Bear had instructed him, and he sang the
battle-songs that the grizzly had taught him.  After these ceremonies
he impetuously charged the enemy, followed by all his braves in a solid
phalanx, and such was the efficacy of the Bear magic that the Crows
immediately took to flight.  The victorious Blackfeet brought back
Sokumapi to their camp in triumph, to the accompaniment of the Bear
songs.  He was made a war-chief, and ever afterward the spear which he
had used was regarded as the palladium of the Blackfoot Indians.  In
the spring the Bear-spear is unrolled from its covering and produced
when the first thunder is heard, and when the Bear begins to quit his
winter quarters; but when the Bear returns to his den to hibernate the
spear is once more rolled up and put away.  The greatest care is taken
to protect it against injury.  It has a special guardian, and no woman
is permitted to touch it.



The Young Dog Dance

A dance resembling the Sun Dance was formerly known to the Pawnee
Indians, who called it the Young Dog Dance.  It was, they said,
borrowed from the Crees, who produced the following myth to account for
it.

One day a young brave of the Cree tribe had gone out from his village
to catch eagles, in order to provide himself with feathers for a
war-bonnet, or to tie in his hair.  Now the Crees caught eagles in this
fashion.  On the top of a hill frequented by these birds they would dig
a pit and cover it over with a roof of poles, cunningly concealing the
structure with grass.  A piece of meat was fastened to the poles, so
that the eagles {191} could not carry it off.  Then the Indian, taking
off his clothes, would descend into the pit, and remain there for
hours, or days, as the case might be, until an eagle was attracted by
the bait, when he would put his hand between the poles, seize the bird
by the feet, and quickly dispatch it.

The young brave whose fortune it was to discover the Young Dog Dance
had prepared the trap in this wise, and was lying in the pit praying
that an eagle might come and bring his uncomfortable vigil to an end.
Suddenly he heard a sound of drumming, distant but quite distinct,
though he could not tell from what direction it proceeded.  All night
the mysterious noise continued.  Next night as he lay in the same
position he heard it again, and resolved to find out its origin, so he
clambered out of his pit and went off in the direction from which the
drum-beating seemed to proceed.  At last, when dawn was near, he
reached the shores of a great lake.  Here he stopped, for the sounds
quite evidently came from the lake.  All that day he sat by the water
bemoaning his ill-luck and praying for better fortune.  When night fell
the drumming began anew, and the young man saw countless animals and
birds swimming in the lake.  Four days he remained on the lake-shore,
till at length, worn out by fatigue and hunger (for many days had
elapsed since he had eaten), he fell asleep.



The Lodge of Animals

When he awoke he found himself in a large lodge, surrounded by many
people, some of whom were dancing, while others sat round the walls.
All these people wore robes made from the skins of various animals or
birds.  They were, in fact, the animals the young Indian had seen
swimming in the water, who {192} had changed themselves into human
shape.  A chief at the back of the lodge stood up and addressed him
thus:

"My friend, we have heard your prayers, and our desire is to help you.
You see these people?  They represent the animals.  I am the Dog.  The
Great Spirit is very fond of dogs.  I have much power, and my power I
shall give to you, so that you may be like me, and my spirit will
always protect you.  Take this dance home to your people, and it will
make them lucky in war."  And he imparted the nature of the rite to the
Indian by action.

The Dog turned from the Cree brave and his eye swept the company.



The Gift

"Brothers," he said, "I have given him my power.  Will you not pity him
and give him the power you have?"

For a time there was silence.  No one seemed disposed to respond to the
chief's appeal.  At last the Owl rose.

"I will help you," he said to the young man.  "I have power to see in
the dark wherever I may go.  When you go out at night I will be near
you, and you shall see as well as I do.  Take these feathers and tie
them in your hair."  And, giving him a bunch of feathers, the Owl sat
down.

There was a pause, and the next to rise was the Buffalo Bull, who gave
to the young Indian his strength and endurance and the power to trample
his enemies underfoot.  As a token he gave him a shoulder-belt of
tanned buffalo-hide, bidding him wear it when he went on the war-path.

By and by the Porcupine stood up and addressed {193} the guest.  Giving
him some of his quills with which to ornament the leather belt, he said:

"I also will help you.  I can make my enemies as weak as women, so that
they fly before me.  When you fight your foes shall flee and you shall
overcome them."

Another long silence ensued, and when at last the Eagle rose every one
listened to hear what he had to say.

"I also," he said majestically, "will be with you wherever you go, and
will give you my prowess in war, so that you may kill your foes as I
do."  As he spoke he handed to the brave some eagle feathers to tie in
his hair.

The Whooping Crane followed, and gave him a bone from its wing for a
war-whistle to frighten his enemies away.

The Deer and the Bear came next, the one giving him swiftness, with a
rattle as token, and the other hardiness, and a strip of fur for his
belt.

After he had received these gifts from the animals the brave lay down
and fell asleep again.  When he awoke he found himself on the shores of
the lake once more.

Returning home, he taught the Crees the Young Dog Dance, which was to
make them skilful in war, and showed them the articles he had received.
So the young men formed a Society of Young Dogs, which practised the
dance and obtained the benefits.



The Medicine Wolf

A quaint story of a 'medicine' wolf is told among the Blackfoot
Indians.  On one occasion when the Blackfeet were moving camp they were
attacked by a number of Crow Indians who had been lying in wait for
them.  The Blackfeet were travelling slowly in a {194} long, straggling
line, with the old men and the women and children in the middle, and a
band of warriors in front and in the rear.  The Crows, as has been
said, made an ambush for their enemies, and rushed out on the middle
portion of the line.  Before either party of the Blackfoot warriors
could reach the scene of the struggle many of the women and children
had perished, and others were taken captive by the attacking force.
Among the prisoners was a young woman called Sits-by-the-door.  Many
weary miles lay between them and the Crow camp on the Yellowstone
River, but at length the tired captives, mounted with their captors on
jaded horses, arrived at their destination.  The warrior who had taken
Sits-by-the-door prisoner now presented her to a friend of his, who in
turn gave her into the keeping of his wife, who was somewhat older than
her charge.  The young Blackfoot woman was cruelly treated by the Crow
into whose possession she had passed.  Every night he tied her feet
together so that she might not escape, and also tied a rope round her
waist, the other end of which he fastened to his wife.  The Crow woman,
however, was not unmoved by the wretchedness of her prisoner.  While
her husband was out she managed to converse with her and to show her
that she pitied her misfortunes.  One day she informed Sits-by-the-door
that she had overheard her husband and his companions plotting to kill
her, but she added that when darkness fell she would help her to
escape.  When night came the Crow woman waited until the deep breathing
of her husband told her that he was sound asleep; then, rising
cautiously, she loosened the ropes that bound her captive, and, giving
her a pair of moccasins, a flint, and a small sack of pemmican, bade
her make haste and escape from the fate that would surely befall her
{195} if she remained where she was.  The trembling woman obeyed, and
travelled at a good pace all night.  At dawn she hid in the dense
undergrowth, hoping to escape observation should her captors pursue
her.  They, meanwhile, had discovered her absence, and were searching
high and low, but no tracks were visible, and at last, wearied with
their unprofitable search, they gave up the chase and returned to their
homes.



The Friendly Wolf

When the woman had journeyed on for four nights she stopped concealing
herself in the daytime and travelled straight on.  She was not yet out
of danger, however, for her supply of pemmican was soon exhausted, and
she found herself face to face with the miseries of starvation.  Her
moccasins, besides, were worn to holes and her feet were cut and
bleeding, while, to add to her misfortunes, a huge wolf dogged her
every movement.  In vain she tried to run away; her strength was
exhausted and she sank to the ground.  Nearer and nearer came the great
wolf, and at last he lay down at her feet.  Whenever the woman walked
on her way the wolf followed, and when she lay down to rest he lay down
also.

At length she begged her strange companion to help her, for she knew
that unless she obtained food very soon she must die.  The animal
trotted away, and returned shortly with a buffalo calf which it had
killed, and laid it at the woman's feet.  With the aid of the
flint--one of the gifts with which the Crow woman had sped her unhappy
guest--she built a fire and cooked some of the buffalo meat.  Thus
refreshed, she proceeded on her way.  Again and again the wolf provided
food in a similar manner, until at length they reached the Blackfoot
camp.  The woman led the animal {196} into her lodge, and related to
her friends all that had befallen her in the Crow camp, and the manner
of her escape.  She also told them how the wolf had befriended her, and
begged them to treat it kindly.  But soon afterward she fell ill, and
the poor wolf was driven out of the village by the Indian dogs.  Every
evening he would come to the top of a hill overlooking the camp and
watch the lodge where Sits-by-the-door dwelt.  Though he was still fed
by her friends, after a time he disappeared and was seen no more.[3]


[3] The reader cannot fail to discern the striking resemblance between
this episode and that of Una and the lion in Spenser's _Faerie Queene_.



The Story of Scar-face

Scar-face was brave but poor.  His parents had died while he was yet a
boy, and he had no near relations.  But his heart was high, and he was
a mighty hunter.  The old men said that Scar-face had a future before
him, but the young braves twitted him because of a mark across his
face, left by the rending claw of a great grizzly which he had slain in
close fight.

The chief of his tribe possessed a beautiful daughter, whom all the
young men desired in marriage.  Scar-face also had fallen in love with
her, but he felt ashamed to declare his passion because of his poverty.
The maiden had already repulsed half the braves of his tribe.  Why, he
argued, should she accept him, poor and disfigured as he was?

One day he passed her as she sat outside her lodge.  He cast a
penetrating glance at her--a glance which was observed by one of her
unsuccessful suitors, who sneeringly remarked:

"Scar-face would marry our chiefs daughter!  She does not desire a man
without a blemish.  Ha, Scar-face, now is your chance!"

{197}

Scar-face turned upon the jeerer, and in his quiet yet dignified manner
remarked that it was his intention to ask the chief's daughter to be
his wife.  His announcement met with ridicule, but he took no notice of
it and sought the girl.

He found her by the river, pulling rushes to make baskets.
Approaching, he respectfully addressed her.

"I am poor," he said, "but my heart is rich in love for you.  I have no
wealth of furs or pemmican.  I live by my bow and spear.  I love you.
Will you dwell with me in my lodge and be my wife?"



The Sun-God's Decree

The girl regarded him with bright, shy eyes peering up through lashes
as the morning sun peers through the branches.

"My husband would not be poor," she faltered, "for my father, the
chief, is wealthy and has abundance in his lodge.  But it has been laid
upon me by the Sun-god that I may not marry."

"These are heavy words," said Scar-face sadly.  "May they not be
recalled?"

"On one condition only," replied the girl.  "Seek the Sun-god and ask
him to release me from my promise.  If he consents to do so, request
him to remove the scar from your face as a sign that I may know that he
gives me to you."

Scar-face was sad at heart, for he could not believe that the Sun-god,
having chosen such a beautiful maiden for himself, would renounce her.
But he gave the chief's daughter his promise that he would seek out the
god in his own bright country and ask him to grant his request.

For many moons Scar-face sought the home of the Sun-god.  He traversed
wide plains and dense forests, {198} crossed rivers and lofty
mountains, yet never a trace of the golden gates of the dwelling of the
God of Light could he see.

Many inquiries did he make from the wild denizens of the forest--the
wolf, the bear, the badger.  But none was aware of the way to the home
of the Sun-god.  He asked the birds, but though they flew far they were
likewise in ignorance of the road thither.  At last he met a wolverine
who told him that he had been there himself, and promised to set him on
the way.  For a long and weary season they marched onward, until at
length they came to a great water, too broad and too deep to cross.

As Scar-face sat despondent on the bank bemoaning his case two
beautiful swans advanced from the water, and, requesting him to sit on
their backs, bore him across in safety.  Landing him on the other side,
they showed him which way to take and left him.  He had not walked far
when he saw a bow and arrows lying before him.  But Scar-face was
punctilious and would not pick them up because they did not belong to
him.  Not long afterward he encountered a beautiful youth of handsome
form and smiling aspect.

"I have lost a bow and arrows," he said to Scar-face.  "Have you seen
them?"

Scar-face told him that he had seen them a little way back, and the
handsome youth praised him for his honesty in not appropriating them.
He further asked him where he was bound for.

"I am seeking the Sun in his home," replied the Indian, "and I believe
that I am not far from my destination."

"You are right," replied the youth.  "I am the son of the Sun,
Apisirahts, the Morning Star, and I will lead you to the presence of my
august father."

{199}

They walked onward for a little space, and then Apisirahts pointed out
a great lodge, glorious with golden light and decorated with an art
more curious than any that Scar-face had ever beheld.  At the entrance
stood a beautiful woman, the mother of Morning Star, Kokomikis, the
Moon-goddess, who welcomed the footsore Indian kindly and joyously.



The Chase of the Savage Birds

Then the great Sun-god appeared, wondrous in his strength and beauty as
the mighty planet over which he ruled.  He too greeted Scar-face
kindly, and requested him to be his guest and to hunt with his son.
Scar-face and the youth gladly set out for the chase.  But on departing
the Sun-god warned them not to venture near the Great Water, as there
dwelt savage birds which might slay Morning Star.

Scar-face tarried with the Sun, his wife and child, fearful of asking
his boon too speedily, and desiring to make as sure as possible of its
being granted.

One day he and Morning Star hunted as usual, and the youth stole away,
for he wished to slay the savage birds of which his father had spoken.
But Scar-face followed, rescued the lad in imminent peril, and killed
the monsters.  The Sun was grateful to him for having saved his son
from a terrible death, and asked him for what reason he had sought his
lodge.  Scar-face acquainted him with the circumstances of his love for
the chief's daughter and of his quest.  At once the Sun-god granted his
desire.

"Return to the woman you love so much," he said, "return and make her
yours.  And as a sign that it is my will that she should be your wife,
I make you whole."

With a motion of his bright hand the deity removed {200} the unsightly
scar.  On quitting the Sun-country the god, his wife and son presented
Scar-face with many good gifts, and showed him a short route by which
to return to Earth-land once more.

Scar-face soon reached his home.  When he sought his chief's daughter
she did not know him at first, so rich was the gleaming attire he had
obtained in the Sun-country.  But when she at last recognized him she
fell upon his breast with a glad cry.  That same day she was made his
wife.  The happy pair raised a 'medicine' lodge to the Sun-god, and
henceforth Scar-face was called Smooth-face.



The Legend of Poïa

A variant of this beautiful story is as follows:

One summer morning a beautiful girl called Feather-woman, who had been
sleeping outside her lodge among the long prairie grass, awoke just as
the Morning Star was rising above the horizon.  She gazed intently at
it, and so beautiful did it seem that she fell deeply in love with it.
She awakened her sister, who was lying beside her, and declared to her
that she would marry nobody but the Morning Star.  The people of her
tribe ridiculed her because of what they considered her absurd
preference; so she avoided them as much as possible, and wandered
alone, eating her heart out in secret for love of the Morning Star, who
seemed to her unapproachable.

One day she went alone to the river for water, and as she returned she
beheld a young man standing before her.  At first she took him for one
of the young men of the tribe, and would have avoided him, but he said:

"I am the Morning Star.  I beheld you gazing upward at me, and knew
that you loved me.  I returned {201} your love, and have descended to
ask you to go with me to my dwelling in the sky."

Feather-woman trembled violently, for she knew that he who spoke to her
was a god, and replied hesitatingly that she must bid farewell to her
father and mother.  But this Morning Star would not permit.  He took a
rich yellow plume from his hair and directed her to hold this in one
hand, while she held a juniper branch in the other.  Then he commanded
her to close her eyes, and when she opened them again she was in the
Sky-country, standing before a great and shining lodge.  Morning Star
told her that this was the home of his parents, the Sun and Moon, and
requested her to enter.  It was daytime, so that the Sun was away on
his diurnal round, but the Moon was at home.  She welcomed
Feather-woman as the wife of her son, as did the Sun himself when he
returned.  The Moon clothed her in a soft robe of buckskin, trimmed
with elks' teeth.  Feather-woman was very happy, and dwelt contentedly
in the lodge or Morning Star.  They had a little son, whom they called
Star-boy.  The Moon gave Feather-woman a root-digger, and told her that
she could dig up all kinds of roots, but warned her on no account to
dig up the large turnip which grew near the home of the Spider Man,
telling her that it would bring unhappiness to all of them if she did
so.



The Great Turnip

Feather-woman often saw the large turnip, but always avoided touching
it.  One day, however, her curiosity got the better of her, and she was
tempted to see what might be underneath it.  She laid her little son on
the ground and dug until her root-digger stuck fast.  Two large cranes
came flying overhead.  {202} She begged these to help her.  They did
so, and sang a magic song which enabled them to uproot the turnip.

Now, although she was unaware of it, this very turnip filled up the
hole through which Morning Star had brought her into the Sky-country.
Gazing downward, she saw the camp of the Blackfeet where she had lived.
The smoke was ascending from the lodges, she could hear the song of the
women as they went about their work.  The sight made her homesick and
lonely, and as she went back to her lodge she cried softly to herself.
When she arrived Morning Star gazed earnestly at her, and said with a
sorrowful expression of countenance: "You have dug up the sacred
turnip."

[Illustration: "Gazing downward, she saw the camp of the Blackfeet"]

The Moon and Sun were also troubled, and asked her the meaning of her
sadness, and when she had told them they said that as she had disobeyed
their injunction she must return to earth.  Morning Star took her to
the Spider Man, who let her down to earth by a web, and the people
beheld her coming to earth like a falling star.



The Return to Earth

She was welcomed by her parents, and returned with her child, whom she
had brought with her from the Sky-country, to the home of her youth.
But happiness never came back to her.  She mourned ceaselessly for her
husband, and one morning, climbing to the summit of a high mound, she
watched the beautiful Morning Star rise above the horizon, just as on
the day when she had first loved him.  Stretching out her arms to the
eastern sky, she besought him passionately to take her back.  At length
he spoke to her.

"It is because of your own sin," he said, "that you are for ever shut
out from the Sky-country.  Your {203} disobedience has brought sorrow
upon yourself and upon all your people."

Her pleadings were in vain, and in despair she returned to her lodge,
where her unhappy life soon came to a close.  Her little son, Star-boy,
was now an orphan, and the death of his grandparents deprived him of
all his earthly kindred.  He was a shy, retiring, timid boy, living in
the deepest poverty, notwithstanding his exalted station as grandchild
of the Sun.  But the most noticeable thing about him was a scar which
disfigured his face, because of which he was given the name of Poïa
(Scar-face) by the wits of the tribe.  As he grew older the scar became
more pronounced, and ridicule and abuse were heaped upon him.  When he
became a man he fell in love with a maiden of surpassing beauty, the
daughter of a great chief of his tribe.  She, however, laughed him to
scorn, and told him that she would marry him when he removed the scar
from his face.  Poïa, greatly saddened by her unkindness, consulted an
old medicine-woman, to see whether the scar might not be removed.  She
could only tell him that the mark had been placed on his face by the
Sun, and that the Sun alone could remove it.  This was melancholy news
for Poïa.  How could he reach the abode of the Sun?  Nevertheless,
encouraged by the old woman, he resolved to make the attempt.
Gratefully accepting her parting gift of pemmican and moccasins, he set
off on a journey that was to last for many days.



The Big Water

After climbing mountains and traversing forests and wandering over
trackless prairies he arrived at the Big Water (that is to say, the
Pacific Ocean), on the shores of which he sat down, praying and fasting
for three {204} days.  On the third day, when the Sun was sinking
behind the rim of the ocean, he saw a bright pathway leading straight
to the abode of the Sun.  He resolved to follow the shining trail,
though he knew not what might lie before him in the great Sky-country.
He arrived quite safely, however, at the wonderful lodge of the Sun.
All night he hid himself outside the lodge, and in the morning the Sun,
who was about to begin his daily journey, saw a ragged wayfarer lying
by his door.  He did not know that the intruder was his grandson, but,
seeing that he had come from the Earth-country, he determined to kill
him, and said so to his wife, the Moon.  But she begged that the
stranger's life should be spared, and Morning Star, who at that moment
issued from the lodge, also gave Poïa his protection.  Poïa lived very
happily in the lodge of the Sun, and having on one occasion killed
seven birds who were about to destroy Morning Star, he earned the
gratitude of his grandparents.  At the request of Morning Star the Sun
removed the scar on Poïa's face, and bade him return with a message to
the Blackfeet.  If they would honour him once a year in a Sun Dance he
would consent to heal their sick.  The secrets of the Sun Dance were
taught to Poïa, two raven's feathers were placed in his hair, and he
was given a robe of elk-skin.  The latter, he was told, must only be
worn by a virtuous woman, who should then dance the Sun Dance, so that
the sick might be restored to health.  From his father Poïa received an
enchanted flute and a magic song, which would win the heart of the maid
he loved.

Poïa came to earth by the Milky Way, or, as the Indians call it, the
Wolf-trail, and communicated to the Blackfeet all that he had learned
in the Sky-country.  When they were thoroughly conversant with the Sun
{205} Dance he returned to the Sky-country, the home of his father,
accompanied by his beautiful bride.  Here they dwelt together happily,
and Pola and the Morning Star travelled together through the sky.



A Blackfoot Day-and-Night Myth

Many stories are told by the Blackfoot Indians of their creator, Nápi,
and these chiefly relate to the manner in which he made the world and
its inhabitants.

One myth connected with this deity tells how a poor Indian who had a
wife and two children lived in the greatest indigence on roots and
berries.  This man had a dream in which he heard a voice command him to
procure a large spider-web, which he was to hang on the trail of the
animals where they passed through the forest, by which means he would
obtain plenty of food.  This he did, and on returning to the place in
which he had hung the web he found deer and rabbits entangled in its
magical meshes.  These he killed for food, for which he was now never
at a loss.

Returning with his game on his shoulders one morning, he discovered his
wife perfuming herself with sweet pine, which she burned over the fire.
He suspected that she was thus making herself attractive for the
benefit of some one else, but, preserving silence, he told her that on
the following day he would set his spider-web at a greater distance, as
the game in the neighbouring forest was beginning to know the trap too
well.  Accordingly he went farther afield, and caught a deer, which he
cut up, carrying part of its meat back with him to his lodge.  He told
his wife where the remainder of the carcass was to be found, and asked
her to go and fetch it.

His wife, however, was not without her own suspicions, and, concluding
that she was being watched by {206} her husband, she halted at the top
of the nearest hill and looked back to see if he was following her.
But he was sitting where she had left him, so she proceeded on her way.
When she was quite out of sight the Indian himself climbed the hill,
and, seeing that she was not in the vicinity, returned to the camp.  He
inquired of his children where their mother went to gather firewood,
and they pointed to a large patch of dead timber.  Proceeding to the
clump of leafless trees, the man instituted a thorough search, and
after a while discovered a den of rattlesnakes.  Now it was one of
these reptiles with which his wife was in love, so the Indian in his
wrath gathered fragments of dry wood and set the whole plantation in a
blaze.  Then he returned to his lodge and told his children what he had
done, at the same time warning them that their mother would be very
wrathful, and would probably attempt to kill them all.  He further said
that he would wait for her return, but that they had better run away,
and that he would provide them with three things which they would find
of use.  He then handed to the children a stick, a stone, and a bunch
of moss, which they were to throw behind them should their mother
pursue them.  The children at once ran away, and their father hung the
spider-web over the door of the lodge.  Meanwhile the woman had seen
the blaze made by the dry timber-patch from a considerable distance,
and in great anger turned and ran back to the lodge.  Attempting to
enter it, she was at once entangled in the meshes of the spider-web.



The Pursuing Head

She struggled violently, however, and succeeded in getting her head
through the opening, whereupon her husband severed it from her
shoulders with his stone {207} axe.  He then ran out of the lodge and
down the valley, hotly pursued by the woman's body, while her head
rolled along the ground in chase of the children.  The latter soon
descried the grisly object rolling along in their tracks at a great
speed, and one of them quickly threw the stick behind him as he had
been told to do.  Instantly a dense forest sprang up in their rear,
which for a space retarded their horrible pursuer.  The children made
considerable headway, but once more the severed head made its
appearance, gnashing its teeth in a frenzy of rage and rolling its eyes
horribly, while it shrieked out threats which caused the children's
blood to turn to water.

[Illustration: The Pursuing Head]

Then another of the boys threw the stone which he had been given behind
him, and instantly a great mountain sprang up which occupied the land
from sea to sea, so that the progress of the head was quite barred.  It
could perceive no means of overcoming this immense barrier, until it
encountered two rams feeding, which it asked to make a way for it
through the mountain, telling them that if they would do so it would
marry the chief of the sheep.  The rams made a valiant effort to meet
this request, and again and again fiercely rushed at the mountain, till
their horns were split and broken and they could butt no longer.  The
head, growing impatient, called upon a colony of ants which dwelt in
the neighbourhood to tunnel a passage through the obstacle, and
offered, if they were successful, to marry the chief ant as a
recompense for their labours.  The insects at once took up the task,
and toiled incessantly until they had made a tunnel through which the
head could roll.



The Fate of the Head

The children were still running, but felt that the head had not
abandoned pursuit.  At last, after a long {208} interval, they observed
it rolling after them, evidently as fresh as ever.  The child who had
the bunch of moss now wet it and wrung out the water over their trail,
and immediately an immense strait separated them from the land where
they had been but a moment before.  The head, unable to stop, fell into
this great water and was drowned.

The children, seeing that their danger was past, made a raft and sailed
back to the land from which they had come.  Arrived there, they
journeyed eastward through many countries, peopled by many different
tribes of Indians, in order to reach their own territory.  When they
arrived there they found it occupied by tribes unknown to them, so they
resolved to separate, one going north and the other south.  One of them
was shrewd and clever, and the other simple and ingenious.  The shrewd
boy is he who made the white people and instructed them in their arts.
The other, the simple boy, made the Blackfeet, but, being very stupid,
was unable to teach them anything.  He it was who was called Nápi.  As
for the mother's body, it continued to chase her husband, and is still
following him, for she is the Moon and he is the Sun.  If she succeeds
in catching him she will slay him, and night will reign for evermore,
but as long as he is able to evade her day and night will continue to
follow one another.



Nápi and the Buffalo-Stealer

There was once a great famine among the Blackfeet.  For months no
buffaloes were killed, and the weaker members of the tribe dropped off
one by one, while even the strong braves and hunters began to sink
under the privation.  The chief in despair prayed that the creator,
Nápi, would send them food.  Nápi, {209} meanwhile, was far away in the
south, painting the plumage of the birds in gorgeous tints.
Nevertheless he heard the voice of the chief over all the distance, and
hastened northward.

"Who has summoned me?" he demanded.

"It was I," said the chief humbly.  "My people are starving, and unless
relief comes soon I fear we must all perish."

"You shall have food," answered Nápi.  "I will provide game for you."

Taking with him the chief's son, Nápi travelled toward the west.  As
they went the youth prayed earnestly to the Sun, the Moon, and the
Morning Star, but his companion rebuked his impatience and bade him
hold his peace.  They crossed the Sweet Grass Hills, which Nápi had
made from huge handfuls of herbage, and where he loved to rest.  Still
there was no sign of game.  At length they reached a little lodge by
the side of a river, and Nápi called a halt.

"There dwells the cause of your misfortunes," said he.  "He who lives
in that lodge is the Buffalo-stealer.  He it is who has taken all the
herds from the prairies, so that there is none left."

To further his design, Nápi took the shape of a dog, and turned the
youth into a stick.  Not long afterward the little son of
Buffalo-stealer was passing that way, and immediately desired to take
the little dog home with him.

"Very well," said his mother; "take that stick and drive it to the
lodge."

But the boy's father frowned angrily.

"I do not like the look of the beast," he said.  "Send it away."

The boy refused to part with the dog, and his mother wanted the stick
to gather roots with, so the father was {210} obliged to give way.
Still he did not show any good-will to the dog.  The following day he
went out of the lodge, and in a short time returned with a buffalo,
which he skinned and prepared for cooking.  His wife, who was in the
woods gathering berries, came home toward evening, and at her husband's
bidding cooked part of the buffalo-meat.  The little boy incurred his
father's anger again by giving a piece of meat to the dog.

"Have I not told you," cried Buffalo-stealer irately, "that he is an
evil thing?  Do not touch him."

That night when all was silent Nápi and the chief's son resumed their
human form and supped off the buffalo-meat.

"It is Buffalo-stealer who keeps the herds from coming near the
Blackfoot camp," said Nápi.  "Wait till morning and see."



The Herds of Buffalo-Stealer

In the morning they were once more dog and stick.  When the woman and
her child awoke they set off for the woods again, the former taking the
stick to dig for roots, the latter calling for his little dog to
accompany him.  Alas! when they reached the spot they had fixed upon
for root-gathering operations both dog and stick had vanished!  And
this was the reason for their disappearance.  As the dog was trotting
through the wood he had observed an opening like the mouth of a cavern,
all but concealed by the thick undergrowth, and in the aperture he
perceived a buffalo.  His short, sharp barking attracted the attention
of the stick, which promptly wriggled snake-wise after him.  Within the
cavern were great herds of deer and buffalo, enough to provide the
Blackfeet with food for years and years.  Nápi ran among them, barking,
and they were driven out to the prairie.

{211}

When Buffalo-stealer returned and discovered his loss his wrath knew no
bounds.  He questioned his wife and son, but they denied all knowledge
of the affair.

"Then," said he, "it is that wretched little dog of yours.  Where is he
now?"

But the child could not tell him.

"We lost him in the woods," said he.

"I shall kill him," shouted the man, "and I shall break the stick as
well!"

Nápi overheard the threat, and clung to the long hair of an old
buffalo; He advised the stick to conceal itself in the buffalo's hair
also, and so the twain escaped unnoticed from the cave, much as did
Ulysses from the Cyclops' cavern.  Once again they took the form of
men, and drove a herd of buffalo to the Blackfoot camp, while
Buffalo-stealer and his family sought them in vain.

The people met them with delighted acclamations, and the famine was at
an end.  Yet there were still some difficulties in the way, for when
they tried to get the herd into the enclosure a large grey bird so
frightened the animals with its dismal note that they refused to enter.
This occurred so often that Nápi suspected that the grey bird was no
other than Buffalo-stealer.  Changing himself into an otter, he lay by
the side of a river and pretended to be dead.  The greedy bird saw what
he thought to be a dead otter, and pounced upon it, whereupon Nápi
seized him by the leg and bore him off to the camp.  By way of
punishment he was tied over the smoke-hole of the wigwam, where his
grey feathers soon became black and his life a burden to him.

"Spare me!" he cried.  "Let me return to my wife and child.  They will
surely starve."

{212}

His piteous appeals moved the heart of Nápi, and he let him go, but not
without an admonition.

"Go," said he, "and hunt for food, that you may support your wife and
child.  But do not take more than you need, or you shall die."

The bird did as he was bidden.  But to this day the feathers of the
raven are black, and not grey.



The Story of Kutoyis

There once lived on the banks of the Missouri an old couple who had one
daughter, their only child.  When she grew to be a woman she had a
suitor who was cruel and overbearing, but as she loved him her parents
offered no opposition to their marriage.  Indeed, they gave the bride
the best part of their possessions for a dowry, so that she and her
husband were rich, while her father and mother lived in a poor lodge
and had very little to eat.  The wicked son-in-law took advantage of
their kindness in every way.  He forced the old man to accompany him on
his hunting expeditions, and then refused to share the game with him.
Sometimes one would kill a buffalo and sometimes the other, but always
it was the younger man who got the best of the meat and who made
himself robes and moccasins from the hide.

Thus the aged couple were nearly perishing from cold and hunger.  Only
when her husband was out hunting would the daughter venture to carry a
morsel of meat to her parents.

On one occasion the younger man called in his overbearing way to his
father-in-law, bidding him help in a buffalo-hunt.  The old man,
reduced by want almost to a skeleton, was too much afraid of the tyrant
to venture to disobey him, so he accompanied him in the chase.  Ere
long they encountered a fine buffalo, {213} whereupon both drew their
bows and fired.  But it was the arrow of the elder man which pierced
the animal and brought it to the ground.  The old man set himself to
skin the buffalo, for his son-in-law never shared in these tasks, but
left them to his companion.  While he was thus engaged the latter
observed a drop of blood on one of his arrows which had fallen to the
ground.

Thinking that even a drop of blood was better than nothing, he replaced
the arrow in its quiver and set off home.  As it happened, no more of
the buffalo than that fell to his share, the rest being appropriated by
his son-in-law.

On his return the old man called to his wife to heap fuel on the fire
and put on the kettle.  She, thinking he had brought home some
buffalo-meat, hastened to do his bidding.  She waited curiously till
the water in the kettle had boiled; then to her surprise she saw him
place in it an arrow with a drop of blood on it.



How Kutoyis was Born

"Why do you do that?" she asked.

"Something will come of it," he replied.  "My spirit tells me so."

They waited in silence.

Then a strange sound was heard in their lonely little lodge--the crying
of a child.  Half fearfully, half curiously, the old couple lifted the
lid of the kettle, and there within was a little baby boy.

"He shall bring us good luck," said the old Indian.

They called the child Kutoyis--that is, 'Drop of Blood'--and wrapped
him up as is customary with Indian babies.

"Let us tell our son-in-law," said the old man, "that it is a little
girl, and he will let it live.  If we say it is a boy he will surely
kill it."

{214}

Kutoyis became a great favourite in the little lodge to which he had
come.  He was always laughing, and his merriment won the hearts of the
old people.  One day, while they thought him much too young to speak,
they were astonished to hear his voice.

"Lash me up and hang me from the lodge pole," said he, "and I shall
become a man."

When they had recovered from their astonishment they lashed him to the
lodge pole.  In a moment he had burst the lashings and grown before
their eyes into a tall, strong man.  Looking round the lodge, which
seemed scarcely large enough to hold him, Kutoyis perceived that there
was no food about.

"Give me some arrows," said he, "and I will bring you food."

"We have no arrows," replied the old man, "only four arrow-heads."

Kutoyis fetched some wood, from which he cut a fine bow, and shafts to
fit the flint arrow-heads.  He begged the old Indian to lead him to a
good hunting-ground, and when he had done so they quickly killed a
magnificent buffalo.

Meanwhile the old Indian had told Kutoyis how badly his son-in-law had
treated him, and as they were skinning the buffalo who should pass by
but the subject of their conversation.  Kutoyis hid behind the dead
animal to see what would happen, and a moment later the angry voice of
the son-in-law was heard.

Getting no reply, the cowardly hunter fitted an arrow to his bow and
shot it at his father-in-law.  Enraged at the cruel act, Kutoyis rose
from his hiding-place behind the dead buffalo and fired all his arrows
at the young man, whom he slew.  He afterward gave food in plenty to
the old man and his wife, and bade them return to their home.  They
were delighted to find {215} themselves once more free from
persecution, but their daughter wept so much that finally Kutoyis asked
her whether she would have another husband or whether she wished to
follow her first spouse to the Land of Shadows, as she must do if she
persisted in lamenting him.

The lady chose the former alternative as the lesser evil, and Kutoyis
found her an excellent husband, with whom she lived happily for a long
time.



Kutoyis on his Travels

At length Kutoyis tired of his monotonous life, and desired to see more
of the world.  So his host directed him to a distant village, where he
was welcomed by two old women.  They set before their handsome guest
the best fare at their disposal, which was buffalo-meat of a rather
unattractive appearance.

"Is there no good meat?" queried Kutoyis.

The old women explained that one of the lodges was occupied by a fierce
bear, who seized upon all the good meat and left only the dry, poor
sort for his neighbours.  Without hesitation Kutoyis went out and
killed a buffalo calf, which he presented to the women, desiring them
to place the best parts of the meat in a prominent position outside the
lodge, where the big bear could not fail to see it.

This they did, and sure enough one of the bear-cubs shortly passed by
and seized the meat.  Kutoyis, who had been lying in wait, rushed out
and hit the animal as hard as he could.  The cub carried his tale of
woe to his father, and the big bear, growling threats of vengeance,
gathered his whole family round him and rushed to the lodge of the old
women, intending to kill the bold hunter.

However, Kutoyis was more than a match for all of {216} them, and very
soon the bears were slain.  Still he was unsatisfied, and longed for
further adventures.

"Tell me," said he, "where shall I find another village?"



The Wrestling Woman

"There is a village by the Big River," said the old women, "but you
must not go there, for a wicked woman dwells in it who wrestles with
and slays all who approach."

No sooner did Kutoyis hear this than he determined to seek the village,
for his mission was to destroy evil beings who were a danger to his
fellow-men.  So in spite of the dissuasions of the old women he
departed.

As he had been warned, the woman came out of her lodge on the approach
of the stranger and invited him to wrestle with her.

"I cannot," said he, pretending to be frightened.

The woman mocked and jeered at him, while he made various excuses, but
all the time he was observing how the land lay.  When he drew nearer he
saw that she had covered the ground with sharp flints, over which she
had strewn grass.  At last he said: "Very well, I will wrestle with
you."

It was no wonder that she had killed many braves, for she was very
strong.  But Kutoyis was still stronger.  With all her skill she could
not throw him, and at last she grew tired, and was herself thrown on
the sharp flints, on which she bled to death.  The people rejoiced
greatly when they heard of her death, and Kutoyis was universally
acclaimed as a hero.

Kutoyis did many other high deeds before he departed to the Shadowland,
and when he went he left sorrow in many lodges.




{217}

CHAPTER IV: IROQUOIS MYTHS AND LEGENDS


Iroquois Gods and Heroes

The myths of the Iroquois are of exceptional
interest because of the portraits they present
of several semi-historical heroes.  The earliest
substratum of the myths of this people deals with the
adventures of their principal deity, Hi'nun, the
Thunder-god, who, with his brother, the West Wind, finally
overcame and exterminated the powerful race of Stone
Giants.  Coming to a later period, we find that a
number of legends cluster round the names of the
chiefs Atotarho and Hiawatha, who in all probability
at one time really existed.  These present a good
instance of the rapidity with which myth gathers round a
famous name.  Atotarho, the mighty warrior, is now
regarded as the wizard _par excellence_ of the Iroquois,
but probably this does not result from the fact that
he was cunning and cruel, as some writers on the tribe
appear to think, but from the circumstance that as a
great warrior he was clothed in a garment of serpents,
and these reptiles, besides being looked upon as powerful
war-physic, also possessed a deep magical significance.
The original Hiawatha (He who seeks the Wampum-belt)
is pictured as the father of a long line of persons
of the same name, who appear to have been important
functionaries in the tribal government.  To him was
ascribed the honour of having established the great
confederacy of the Iroquois, which so long rendered
them formidable opponents to the tribes which
surrounded them.  Like many other heroes in myth--the
Celtic Mananan, for example--Hiawatha possessed
a magic canoe which would obey his slightest behest,
and in which he finally quitted the terrestrial sphere
{218}
for that shadowy region to which all heroes finally take
their departure.



Hi'nun

Many interesting myths are related of the manner in
which Hi'nun destroyed the monsters and giants which
infested the early world.  A hunter, caught in a heavy
thunder-shower, took refuge in the woods.  Crouching
under the shelter of a great tree, he became aware
of a mysterious voice which urged him to follow it.
He was conscious of a sensation of slowly rising from
the earth, and he soon found himself gazing downward
from a point near the clouds, the height of many trees
from the ground.  He was surrounded by beings who
had all the appearance of men, with one among them
who seemed to be their chief.  They asked him to cast
his eyes toward the earth and tell them whether he
could see a huge water-serpent.  Unable to descry
such a monster, the chief anointed his eyes with a
sacred ointment, which gave him supernatural sight
and permitted him to behold a dragon-like shape in
the watery depths far below him.  The chief
commanded one of his warriors to dispatch the monster,
but arrow after arrow failed to transfix it, whereupon
the hunter was requested to display his skill as an
archer.  Drawing his bow, he took careful aim.  The
arrow whizzed down the depths and was speedily
lost to sight, but a terrible commotion arose in the
lake below, the body of the great serpent leaping from
the blood-stained water with dreadful writhings and
contortions.  So appalling was the din that rose up
to them that even the heavenly beings by whom the
hunter was surrounded fell into a great trembling;
but gradually the tempest of sound subsided, and the
huge bulk of the mortally wounded serpent sank back
{219}
into the lake, the surface of which became gradually
more still, until finally all was peace once more.  The
chief thanked the hunter for the service he had rendered,
and he was conducted back to earth.  Thus was man
first brought into contact with the beneficent Hi'nun,
and thus did he learn the existence of a power which
would protect him from forces unfriendly to humanity.



The Thunderers

Once in early Iroquois days three braves set out
upon an expedition.  After they had journeyed for
some time a misfortune occurred, one of their number
breaking his leg.  The others fashioned a litter with
the object of carrying him back to his home, as Indian
custom exacted.  Retracing their steps, they came to a
range of high mountains, the steep slopes of which
taxed their strength to the utmost.  To rest
themselves they placed the disabled man on the ground and
withdrew to a little distance.

"Why should we be thus burdened with a wounded
man?" said one to the other.

"You speak truly," was the rejoinder.  "Why
should we, indeed, since his hurt has come upon him
by reason of his own carelessness?"

As they spoke their eyes met in a meaning glance,
and one of them pointed to a deep hole or pit opening
in the side of the mountain at a little distance from the
place where they were sitting.  Returning to the injured
man, they raised him as if about to proceed on the
journey, and when passing the brink of the pit suddenly
hurled him into it with great force.  Then without
loss of time they set their faces homeward.  When they
arrived in camp they reported that their comrade had
died of wounds received in fight, but that he had not
fallen into the enemy's hands, having received careful
{220}
attention from them in his dying moments and
honourable burial.  The unfortunate man's aged mother was
prostrate with grief at the sad news, but was somewhat
relieved to think that her son had been kindly ministered
to at the end.

[Illustration: "He suddenly assumed the shape of a
gigantic porcupine"]

When the brave who had been thrown into the pit
regained his senses after the severe fall he had sustained
he perceived a man of venerable aspect bending over
him solicitously.  When this person saw that the
young man had regained consciousness he asked him
what had been the intention of his comrades in so
cruelly casting him into that abyss.  The young man
replied that his fellows had become tired of
carrying him and had thus rid themselves of him.  The
old hermit--for so he seemed to be--made a hasty
examination of the Indian's injuries, and announced
that he would speedily cure him, on one condition.
The other pledged his word to accept this, whatever
it might be, whereupon the recluse told him that all he
required was that he should hunt for him and bring
home to him such game as he should slay.  To this the
brave gave a ready assent.  The old man lost no time
in performing his part of the bargain.  He applied
herbs to his injuries and assiduously tended his guest,
who made a speedy and satisfactory recovery.  The
grateful warrior, once more enabled to follow the
chase, brought home many trophies of his skill as a
hunter to the cave on the mountain-side, and soon the
pair had formed a strong attachment.  One day, when
in the forest, the warrior encountered an enormous
bear, which he succeeded in slaying after a desperate
struggle.  As he was pondering how best he could
remove it to the cave he became aware of a murmur of
voices behind him, and glancing round he saw three
men, or beings in the shape of men, clad in strange
{221}
diaphanous garments, standing near.  In reply to his
question as to what brought them there, they told him
that they were the Thunderers, or people of Hi'nun,
whose mission it was to keep the earth in good order
for the benefit of humanity, and to slay or destroy
every agency inimical to mankind.  They told him that
the old man with whom he had been residing was by no
means the sort of person he seemed to think, and that
they had come to earth with the express intention of
compassing his destruction.  In this they requested his
assistance, and promised him that if he would vouchsafe
it he would speedily be transported back to his mother's
lodge.  Overjoyed at this proposal, the hunter did not
scruple to return to the cave and tell the hermit that
he had killed the bear, which he wished his help in
bringing home.  The old man seemed very uneasy,
and begged him to examine the sky and tell him
whether he perceived the least sign of clouds.  The
young brave reassured him and told him that not a
cloud was to be seen, whereupon, emerging from his
shelter, he made for the spot where the bear was
lying.  Hastily picking up the carcass, he requested
his companion to place it all on his shoulders, which
the young man did, expressing surprise at his great
strength.  He had proceeded with his burden for some
distance when a terrific clap of thunder burst from the
menacing black clouds which had speedily gathered
overhead.  In great terror the old man threw down his
load and commenced to run with an agility which belied
his years, but when a second peal broke forth he
suddenly assumed the shape of a gigantic porcupine,
which dashed through the undergrowth, discharging
its quills like arrows as it ran.  A veritable hail of
thunderbolts now crashed down upon the creature's
spiny back.  As it reached the entrance to the cave
{222}
one larger than the rest struck it with such tremendous
force that it rolled dead into its den.

Then the Thunderers swooped down from the sky
in triumph, mightily pleased at the death of their
victim.  The young hunter now requested them to
discharge the promise they had made him to transport
him back to his mother's lodge; so, having fastened
cloud-wings on his shoulders, they speedily brought
him thither, carrying him carefully through the air and
depositing him just outside the hut.  The widow was
delighted to see her son, whom she had believed to be
long dead, and the Thunderers were so pleased with
the assistance he had lent them that they asked him to
accompany them in their monster-destroying mission
every spring.  He assented, and on one of these
expeditions flew earthward to drink from a certain pool.
When he rejoined his companions they observed that
the water with which his lips were moist had caused
them to shine as if smeared with oil.  At their request
he indicated the pool from which he had drunk, and
they informed him that in its depths there dwelt a
monster for which they had searched for years.  With
that they hurled a great thunderbolt into the pool,
which immediately dried up, revealing an immense
grub of the species which destroys the standing crops.
The monster was, indeed, the King of Grubs, and his
death set back the conspiracies of his kind for many
generations.  The youth subsequently returned to
earth, and having narrated to the members of his tribe
the services which Hi'nun had performed on their
behalf, they considered it fitting to institute a special
worship of the deity, and, in fact, to make him supreme
god of their nation.  Even to-day many Iroquois allude
to Hi'nun as their grandfather, and evince extraordinary
veneration at the mention of his name.



{223}

Hiawatha

Much confusion exists with regard to the true status
of the reputed Iroquois hero Hiawatha.  We find him
variously represented as a historical personage and a
mythical demi-god, and as belonging to both the
Iroquois and the Algonquins.  In solid history and in
the wildest myth he is a figure of equal importance.
This confusion is largely due to the popularity of
Longfellow's poem _Hiawatha_, which by its very excellence
has given the greater prominence to the fallacies
it contains.  The fact is that Longfellow, following
in the path of Schoolcraft, has really confused two
personages in the character of Hiawatha, one the
entirely mythical Manabozho, or Michabo--which
name he at first intended to bestow on his poem--and
the other the almost wholly historical Hiawatha.
Manabozho, according to tradition, was a demi-god
of the Ojibways, and to him, and not to Hiawatha,
must be credited the exploits described in the poem.
There is no doubt that myths have grown up round
the name of the Iroquois hero, for myth is the ivy that
binds all historical ruins and makes them picturesque
to the eye; but it has been proved that there is a
solid structure of fact behind the legendary stories of
Hiawatha, and even the period of his activity has been
fixed with tolerable accuracy by modern American
historians.

Hiawatha, or Hai-en-Wat-ha, was a chief of Iroquois
stock, belonging either to the Onondaga or the
Mohawk tribe.  His most important feat was the
union of the Five Nations of the Iroquois into a Grand
League, an event which was of more than national
significance, since it so largely affected the fortunes of
European peoples when they afterward fought for
American supremacy.  As the Five Nations are known
{224}
to have come together in the sixteenth century, it
follows that Hiawatha must have lived and worked
about that time.  In later days the League was called
the Six Nations, and still more recently the Seven
Nations.

When the Iroquois, or 'Long House People,' were
found by the French and Dutch they occupied the
western part of what is now New York State, and were
at a much more advanced stage of culture than most of
the Indian tribes.  They tilled the ground, cultivating
maize and tobacco, and were skilled in the arts of war
and diplomacy.  They were greatly strengthened by
the Grand League, or 'Kayanerenh Kowa,' which, as
has been said, was founded by the chief Hiawatha, and
were much the most important of the North American
tribes.

If we look to tradition for an account of the origin
of the Grand League, we learn that the union was
effected by Hiawatha in the fourteenth century.  The
Hurons and Iroquois, we are told, were at one time one
people, but later they separated, the Hurons going to
the lake which is named after them, and the Iroquois
to New York, where their five tribes were united under
a General Council.  But tradition is quite evidently
wrong in assigning so early a date to this important
event, for one of the two branches of the Iroquois
family (that which comprises the Mohawks and the
Oneidas) has left but few traces of an early occupation,
and these, in the shape of some old town-sites, are
judged to belong to the latter part of the sixteenth
century.

The early connexion between the Iroquois and the
Hurons, and their subsequent separation, remains
undisputed.  The Iroquois family was divided into
two branches, the Sinnekes (Onondagas, Cayugas, and
{225}
Senecas) and the Caniengas (Mohawks and Oneidas),
of which the subdivisions composed the Five Nations.
The Sinnekes had established themselves in the western
portion of New York, and the Caniengas at Hochelaga
(Montreal) and elsewhere on the St. Lawrence, where
they lived amicably enough with their Algonquin
neighbours.  But in 1560 a quarrel arose between the
Caniengas and the Algonquins, in which the latter
called in the aid of the Hurons.  This was the
beginning of a long war, in which the Caniengas had the
worst of it.  Gradually the Caniengas were driven
along the shores of Lake Champlain and Lake George
till they reached the valley of the Mohawk River, where
they established themselves in a country bordering on
that of the Onondagas.

Now the Onondagas were a formidable tribe, fierce
and warlike, and the Caniengas, being long accustomed
to war, were not the most peaceable of nations, and
ere long there was trouble between them, while both
were at war with the Hurons.  At the head of the
Onondagas was the great chief Atotarho, whose
sanguinary exploits and crafty stratagems had become
the dread of the neighbouring peoples, and among his
warriors was the generous Hiawatha.  Hiawatha was filled
with horror at the sight of the suffering caused by
Atotarho's expeditions, and already his statesman's
mind was forming projects of peace.  He saw that in
confederation lay the means not only of preserving
peace among his people, but of withstanding alien
foes as well.  In two consecutive years he called an
assembly to consider his plan, but on each occasion the
grim presence of Atotarho made discussion impossible.
Hiawatha in despair fled from the land of the
Onondagas, journeyed eastward through the country
of the Oneidas, and at last took up his residence
{226}
among the Mohawks, into which tribe he was adopted.
It has been said by some authorities, and the idea does
not lack probability, that Hiawatha was originally
a Mohawk, and that he spent some time among the
Onondagas, afterward returning to his own people.
At all events, the Mohawks proved more amenable to
reason than the Onondagas had done.  Among the
chiefs of his adopted tribe Hiawatha found
one--Dekanewidah--who fell in with his confederation
plans, and agreed to work along with him.  Messengers
were dispatched to the Oneidas, who bade them
return in a year, at the end of which period negotiations
were renewed.  The result was that the Oneida
chiefs signed a treaty inaugurating the Kayanerenh
Kowa.  An embassy to the Onondagas was fruitless,
as Atotarho persistently obstructed the new scheme;
but later, when the Kayanerenh Kowa embraced the
Cayugas, messages were once more sent to the powerful
Onondagas, diplomatically suggesting that Atotarho
should take the lead in the Grand Council.  The grim
warrior was mollified by this sop to his vanity, and
condescended to accept the proposal.  Not only that,
but he soon became an enthusiastic worker in the
cause of confederation, and secured the inclusion of the
Senecas in the League.

The confederacy of the Five Nations was now complete,
and the 'Silver Chain,' as their Grand Council
was called, met together on the shores of the Salt
Lake.  The number of chiefs chosen from each tribe
bore some relation to its numerical status, the largest
number, fourteen, being supplied by the Onondagas.
The office of representative in the Council was to be an
hereditary one, descending in the female line, as with
the Picts of Scotland and other primitive peoples, and
never from father to son.

{227}

So powerful did the League become that the name
of 'Long House People' was held in the greatest awe.
They annihilated their ancient enemies, the Hurons,
and they attacked and subdued the Micmacs,
Mohicans, Pawnees, Algonquins, Cherokees, and many
other tribes.  The effect of the League on British
history is incalculable.  When the Frenchman Champlain
arrived in 1611 he interfered on behalf of the
Hurons, an action whose far-reaching consequences he
could not foresee, but from that period dated the
hatred of the Iroquois for the French which ensured
Britain's success in the long struggle between the
European nations in America.  Without the assistance
of the native factor, who shall say how the struggle
might have ended?

But the Iroquois were not altogether a bloodthirsty
people.  A strong bond of brotherhood existed between
the Five Nations, among themselves they were kind and
gentle, and in part at least Hiawatha's dream of peace
was realized.  It is not, of course, very easy to say how
far Hiawatha intended the scheme of universal brotherhood
with which he is credited.  Whether he conceived
a Grand League embracing all the nations of the earth
or whether his full ambition was realized in the union
of the Five Nations is a point which history does not
make clear.  But even in the more limited sense his work
was a great one, and the lofty and noble character
which Longfellow has given to his hero seems not
unsuited to the actual Hiawatha, who realizes the ideal
of the 'noble savage' more fully, perhaps, than any
one else in the annals of primitive peoples.

As in the case of King Arthur and Dietrich of
Berne, many myths soon gathered round the popular
and revered name of Hiawatha.  Among barbarians
three, or even two, generations usually suffice to render
{228}
a great and outstanding figure mythical.  But one
prefers to think of this Iroquois statesman as a real man, a
bright particular star in a dark sky of savagery and
ignorance.



The Stone Giants

The Iroquois believed that in early days there existed
a malignant race of giants whose bodies were fashioned
out of stone.  It is difficult to say how the idea of
such beings arose, but it is possible that the generally
distributed conception of a gigantic race springing from
Mother Earth was in this instance fused with another
belief that stones and rocks composed the earth's bony
framework.  We find an example of this belief in the
beautiful old Greek myth of Deucalion and Pyrrha,
which much resembles that of Noah.  When after the
great flood which submerged Hellas the survivors' ship
grounded upon Mount Parnassus they inquired of the
oracle of Themis in what manner the human race might
be restored.  They were bidden by the oracle to veil
themselves and to throw the bones of their mother
behind them.  These they interpreted to mean the
stones of the earth.  Picking up loose pieces of stone,
they cast them over their shoulders, and from those
thrown by Deucalion there sprang men, while those
cast by Pyrrha became women.

These Stone Giants of the Iroquois, dwelling in the
far west, took counsel with one another and resolved to
invade the Indian territory and exterminate the race of
men.  A party of Indians just starting on the war-path
were apprised of the invasion, and were bidden by the
gods to challenge the giants to combat.  This they did,
and the opposing bands faced each other at a spot near
a great gulf.  But as the monsters advanced upon their
human enemies the god of the west wind, who was
{229}
lying in wait for them, swooped down upon the Titans,
so that they were hurled over the edge of the gulf, far
down into the dark abyss below, where they perished
miserably.



The Pigmies

In contradistinction to their belief in giants, the
Iroquois imagined the existence of a race of pigmies,
who had many of the attributes of the Teutonic
gnomes.  They were responsible for the beauty of
terrestrial scenery, which they carved and sculptured in
cliff, scar, and rock, and, like the thunder-gods, they
protected the human race against the many monsters
which infested the world in early times.



Witches and Witchcraft

The Iroquois belief in witchcraft was very strong,
and the following tale is supposed to account for the
origin of witches and sorcery.  A boy who was out
hunting found a snake the colours of whose skin were
so intensely beautiful that he resolved to capture it.
He caught it and tended it carefully, feeding it on
birds and small game, and housing it in a little bowl
made of bark, which he filled with water.  In the
bottom of the bowl he placed down, small feathers,
and wood fibre, and on going to feed the snake he
discovered that these things had become living beings.
From this he gathered that the reptile was endowed
with supernatural powers, and he found that other
articles placed in the water along with it soon showed
signs of life.  He procured more snakes and placed
them in the bowl.  Observing some men of the tribe
rubbing ointment on their eyes to enable them to see
more clearly, he used some of the water from the bowl
in which the snakes were immersed upon his own, and
{230}
lo! he found on climbing a tall tree that nothing was
hidden from his sight, which pierced all intervening
obstacles.  He could see far into the earth, where lay
hidden precious stones and rich minerals.  His sight
pierced the trunks of trees; he could see through
mountains, and could discern objects lying deep down
in the bed of a river.

He concluded that the greater the number of reptiles
the snake-liquid contained the more potent would it
become.  Accordingly he captured several snakes, and
suspended them over his bowl in such a manner that
the essential oil they contained dropped into the water,
with the result that the activity of the beings which had
been so strangely bred in it was increased.  In course
of time he found that by merely placing one of his
fingers in the liquid and pointing it at any person he
could instantly bewitch him.  He added some roots
to the water in the bowl, some of which he then
drank.  By blowing this from his mouth a great light
was produced, by rubbing his eyes with it he could see
in the dark, and by other applications of it he could
render himself invisible, or take the shape of a snake.
If he dipped an arrow into the liquid and discharged it
at any living being it would kill it although it might
not strike it.  Not content with discovering this magic
fluid, the youth resolved to search for antidotes to it,
and these he collected.



A 'Medicine' Legend

A similar legend is told by the Senecas to account
for the origin of their 'medicine.'  Nearly two hundred
years ago--in the savage estimation this is a very great
period of time--an Indian went into the woods on
a hunting expedition.  One night while asleep in his
solitary camp he was awakened by a great noise of
{231}
singing and drum-beating, such as is heard at festivals.
Starting up, he made his way to the place whence the
sounds came, and although he could not see any one
there he observed a heap of corn and a large squash
vine with three squashes on it, and three ears of corn
which lay apart from the rest.  Feeling very uneasy,
he once more pursued his hunting operations, and when
night came again laid himself down to rest.  But his
sleep was destined to be broken yet a second time, and
awaking he perceived a man bending over him, who
said in menacing tones:

"Beware: what you saw was sacred.  You deserve to die."

A rustling among the branches denoted the presence
of a number of people, who, after some hesitation,
gathered round the hunter, and informed him that
they would pardon his curiosity and would tell him
their secret.  "The great medicine for wounds," said
the man who had first awakened him, "is squash and
corn.  Come with me and I will teach you how to
make and apply it."

With these words he led the hunter to the spot at
which he had surprised the 'medicine'-making operations
on the previous night, where he beheld a great fire
and a strange-looking laurel-bush, which seemed as if
made of iron.  Chanting a weird song, the people circled
slowly round the bush to the accompaniment of a
rattling of gourd-shells.  On the hunter's asking them
to explain this procedure, one of them heated a stick
and thrust it right through his cheek.  He immediately
applied some of the 'medicine' to the wound, so that
it healed instantly.  Having thus demonstrated the
power of the drug, they sang a tune which they called
the 'medicine-song,' which their pupil learnt by heart.

The hunter then turned to depart, and all at once he
{232}
saw that the beings who surrounded him were not
human, as he had thought, but animals--foxes, bears,
and beavers--who fled as he looked at them.  Surprised
and even terrified at the turn matters had taken, he
made his way homeward with all speed, conning over
the prescription which the strange beings had given him
the while.  They had told him to take one stalk of
corn, to dry the cob and pound it very fine, then to
take one squash, cut it up and pound it, and to mix the
whole with water from a running stream, near its source.
This prescription he used with very great success among
his people, and it proved the origin of the great
'medicine' of the Senecas.  Once a year at the season
when the deer changes his coat they prepare it as the
forest folk did, singing the weird song and dancing
round it to the rhythmic accompaniment of the gourd-shell
rattles, while they burn tobacco to the gods.



Great Head and the Ten Brothers

It was commonly believed among the Iroquois
Indians that there existed a curious and malevolent
being whom they called Great Head.  This odd
creature was merely an enormous head poised on
slender legs.  He made his dwelling on a rugged rock,
and directly he saw any living person approach he
would growl fiercely in true ogre fashion: "I see thee,
I see thee!  Thou shalt die."

[Illustration: "'I see thee, I see thee!  Thou shalt die.'"]

Far away in a remote spot an orphaned family of
ten boys lived with their uncle.  The older brothers
went out every day to hunt, but the younger ones, not
yet fitted for so rigorous a life, remained at home with
their uncle, or at least did not venture much beyond
the immediate vicinity of their lodge.  One day the
hunters did not return at their usual hour.  As the
evening passed without bringing any sign of the missing
{233}
youths the little band at home became alarmed.  At
length the eldest of the boys left in the lodge
volunteered to go in search of his brothers.  His uncle
consented, and he set off, but he did not return.

In the morning another brother said: "I will go to
seek my brothers."  Having obtained permission, he
went, but he also did not come back.  Another and
another took upon himself the task of finding the lost
hunters, but of the searchers as well as of those sought
for there was no news forthcoming.  At length only
the youngest of the lads remained at home, and to his
entreaties to be allowed to seek for his brothers the
uncle turned a deaf ear, for he feared to lose the last of
his young nephews.

One day when uncle and nephew were out in the forest
the latter fancied he heard a deep groan, which seemed to
proceed from the earth exactly under his feet.  They
stopped to listen.  The sound was repeated--unmistakably
a human groan.  Hastily they began digging in the
earth, and in a moment or two came upon a man covered
with mould and apparently unconscious.

The pair carried the unfortunate one to their lodge,
where they rubbed him with bear's oil till he recovered
consciousness.  When he was able to speak he could
give no explanation of how he came to be buried
alive.  He had been out hunting, he said, when
suddenly his mind became a blank, and he remembered
nothing more till he found himself in the lodge with
the old man and the boy.  His hosts begged the
stranger to stay with them, and they soon discovered
that he was no ordinary mortal, but a powerful
magician.  At times he behaved very strangely.  One
night, while a great storm raged without, he tossed
restlessly on his couch instead of going to sleep.  At
last he sought the old uncle.

{234}

"Do you hear that noise?" he said.  "That is my
brother, Great Head, who is riding on the wind.  Do
you not hear him howling?"

The old man considered this astounding speech for
a moment; then he asked: "Would he come here if
you sent for him?"

"No," said the other, thoughtfully, "but we might
bring him here by magic.  Should he come you must
have food ready for him, in the shape of huge blocks
of maple-wood, for that is what he lives on."

The stranger departed in search of his brother Great
Head, taking with him his bow, and on the way he
came across a hickory-tree, whose roots provided him
with arrows.  About midday he drew near to the
dwelling of his brother, Great Head.  In order to see
without being seen, he changed himself into a mole,
and crept through the grass till he saw Great Head
perched on a rock, frowning fiercely.  "I see thee!" he
growled, with his wild eyes fixed on an owl.  The
man-mole drew his bow and shot an arrow at Great
Head.  The arrow became larger and larger as it flew
toward the monster, but it returned to him who had
fired it, and as it did so it regained its natural size.
The man seized it and rushed back the way he had
come.  Very soon he heard Great Head in pursuit,
puffing and snorting along on the wings of a hurricane.
When the creature had almost overtaken him he turned
and discharged another arrow.  Again and again he
repulsed his pursuer in this fashion, till he lured him
to the lodge where his benefactors lived.  When Great
Head burst into the house the uncle and nephew began
to hammer him vigorously with mallets.  To their
surprise the monster broke into laughter, for he had
recognized his brother and was very pleased to see him.
He ate the maple-blocks they brought him with a
{235}
hearty appetite, whereupon they told him the story of
the missing hunters.

"I know what has become of them," said Great
Head.  "They have fallen into the hands of a witch.
If this young man," indicating the nephew, "will
accompany me, I will show him her dwelling, and the
bones of his brothers."

The youth, who loved adventure, and was besides
very anxious to learn the fate of his brothers, at once
consented to seek the home of the witch.  So he and
Great Head started off, and lost no time in getting to
the place.  They found the space in front of the lodge
strewn with dry bones, and the witch sitting in the
doorway singing.  When she saw them she muttered
the magic word which turned living people into dry
bones, but on Great Head and his companion it had
no effect whatever.  Acting on a prearranged signal,
Great Head and the youth attacked the witch and
killed her.  No sooner had she expired than her flesh
turned into birds and beasts and fishes.  What was
left of her they burned to ashes.

Their next act was to select the bones of the nine
brothers from among the heap, and this they found no
easy task.  But at last it was accomplished, and Great
Head said to his companion: "I am going home to
my rock.  When I pass overhead in a great storm I
will bid these bones arise, and they will get up and
return with you."

The youth stood alone for a little while till he heard
the sound of a fierce tempest.  Out of the hurricane
Great Head called to the brothers to arise.  In a
moment they were all on their feet, receiving the
congratulations of their younger brother and each
other, and filled with joy at their reunion.



{236}

The Seneca's Revenge

A striking story is told of a Seneca youth who for
many years and through a wearisome captivity nourished
the hope of vengeance so dear to the Indian soul.  A
certain tribe of the Senecas had settled on the shores
of Lake Erie, when they were surprised by their ancient
enemies the Illinois, and in spite of a stout resistance
many of them were slain, and a woman and a boy
taken prisoner.  When the victors halted for the night
they built a great fire, and proceeded to celebrate their
success by singing triumphant songs, in which they
commanded the boy to join them.  The lad pretended
that he did not know their language, but said that he
would sing their song in his own tongue, to which
they assented; but instead of a pæan in their praise
he sang a song of vengeance, in which he vowed that
if he were spared all of them would lose their scalps.
A few days afterward the woman became so exhausted
that she could walk no farther, so the Illinois slew her.
But before she died she extracted a promise from the
boy that he would avenge her, and would never cease
to be a Seneca.

In a few days they arrived at the Illinois camp,
where a council was held to consider the fate of the
captive lad.  Some were for instantly putting him to
death, but their chief ruled that should he be able to
live through their tortures he would be worthy of
becoming an Illinois.  They seized the wretched lad
and held his bare feet to the glowing council-fire, then
after piercing them they told him to run a race.  He
bounded forward, and ran so swiftly that he soon
gained the Great House of the tribe, where he seated
himself upon a wild-cat skin.

Another council was held, and the Illinois braves
{237}
agreed that the lad possessed high courage and would
make a great warrior; but others argued that he knew
their war-path and might betray them, and it was finally
decided that he should be burnt at the stake.  As he
was about to perish in this manner an aged warrior
suggested that if he were able to withstand their last
torture he should be permitted to live.  Accordingly
he held the unfortunate lad under water in a pool until
only a spark of life remained in him, but he survived,
and became an Illinois warrior.

Years passed, and the boy reached manhood and
married a chief's daughter.  His strength and endurance
became proverbial, but the warriors of the tribe of his
adoption would never permit him to take part in their
warlike expeditions.  At length a raid against the Senecas
was mooted, and he begged so hard to be allowed to
accompany the braves that at last they consented.
Indeed, so great was their admiration of the skill with
which he outlined a plan of campaign that they made
him chief of the expedition.  For many days the party
marched toward the Seneca country; but when at last
they neared it their scouts reported that there were no
signs of the tribe, and that the Senecas must have quitted
their territory.  Their leader, however, proposed to go in
search of the enemy himself, along with another warrior
of the tribe, and this was agreed to.

When the pair had gone five or six miles the leader
said to his companion that it would be better if they
separated, as they would then be able to cover more
ground.  Passing on to where he knew he would find
the Senecas, he warned them of their danger, and
arranged that an ambush of his kinsfolk should lie in
wait for the Illinois.

Returning to the Illinois camp, he reported that he
had seen nothing, but that he well remembered the
{238}
Seneca hiding-place.  He asked to be given the bravest
warriors, and assured the council that he would soon
bring them the scalps of their foes.  Suspecting nothing,
they assented to his proposal, and he was followed by
the flower of the Illinois tribe, all unaware that five
hundred Senecas awaited them in the valley.  The
youth led his men right into the heart of the ambush;
then, pretending to miss his footing, he fell.  This
was the signal for the Senecas to rise on every side.
Yelling their war-cry, they rushed from their shelter
and fell on the dismayed Illinois, who gave way on
every side.  The slaughter was immense.  Vengeance
nerved the arms of the Seneca braves, and of three
hundred Illinois but two escaped.  The leader of the
expedition was borne in triumph to the Seneca village,
where to listening hundreds he told the story of his
capture and long-meditated revenge.  He became a
great chief among his people, and even to this day his
name is uttered by them with honour and reverence.



The Boy Magician

In the heart of the wilderness there lived an old
woman and her little grandson.  The two found no
lack of occupation from day to day, the woman busying
herself with cooking and cleaning and the boy with
shooting and hunting.  The grandmother frequently
spoke of the time when the child would grow up and
go out into the world.

"Always go to the east," she would say.  "Never
go to the west, for there lies danger."

But what the danger was she would not tell him,
in spite of his importunate questioning.  Other boys
went west, he thought to himself, and why should not
he?  Nevertheless his grandmother made him promise
that he would not go west.

{239}

Years passed by, and the child grew to be a man,
though he still retained the curiosity and high spirits
of his boyhood.  His persistent inquiries drew from
the old grandmother a reluctant explanation of her
warning.

"In the west," said she, "there dwells a being who
is anxious to do us harm.  If he sees you it will mean
death for both of us."

This statement, instead of frightening the young
Indian, only strengthened in him a secret resolution he
had formed to go west on the first opportunity.  Not
that he wished to bring any misfortune on his poor
old grandmother, any more than on himself, but he
trusted to his strong arm and clear head to deliver
them from their enemy.  So with a laugh on his lips
he set off to the west.

Toward evening he came to a lake, where he rested.
He had not been there long when he heard a voice
saying: "Aha, my fine fellow, I see you!"

The youth looked all round him, and up into the
sky above, but he saw no one.

"I am going to send a hurricane," the mysterious
voice continued, "to break your grandmother's hut to
pieces.  How will you like that?"

"Oh, very well," answered the young man gaily.
"We are always in need of firewood, and now we shall
have plenty."

"Go home and see," the voice said mockingly.
"I daresay you will not like it so well."

Nothing daunted, the young adventurer retraced
his steps.  As he neared home a great wind sprang up,
seeming to tear the very trees out by the roots.

"Make haste!" cried the grandmother from the
doorway.  "We shall both be killed!"

When she had drawn him inside and shut the door
{240}
she scolded him heartily for his disobedience, and
bewailed the fate before them.  The young man soothed
her fears, saying: "Don't cry, grandmother.  We
shall turn the lodge into a rock, and so we shall be
saved."

Having some skill in magic, he did as he had said,
and the hurricane passed harmlessly over their heads.
When it had ceased they emerged from their retreat,
and found an abundance of firewood all round them.



The Hailstorm

Next day the youth was on the point of setting off
toward the west once more, but the urgent entreaties
of his grandmother moved him to proceed eastward--for
a time.  Directly he was out of sight of the lodge
he turned his face once more to the west.  Arrived at
the lake, he heard the voice once more, though its
owner was still invisible.

"I am going to send a great hailstorm on your
grandmother's hut," it said.  "What do you think of
that?"

"Oh," was the response, "I think I should like it.
I have always wanted a bundle of spears."

"Go home and see," said the voice.

Away the youth went through the woods.  The sky
became darker and darker as he neared his home, and
just as he was within a bowshot of the little hut a
fierce hailstorm broke, and he thought he would be
killed before he reached shelter.

"Alas!" cried the old woman when he was safely
indoors, "we shall be destroyed this time.  How can
we save ourselves?"

Again the young man exercised his magic powers,
and transformed the frail hut into a hollow rock, upon
which the shafts of the hailstorm spent themselves in
{241}
vain.  At last the sky cleared, the lodge resumed its
former shape, and the young man saw a multitude of
sharp, beautiful spear-heads on the ground.

"I will get poles," said he, "to fit to them for
fishing."

When he returned in a few minutes with the poles
he found that the spears had vanished.

"Where are my beautiful spears?" he asked his
grandmother.

"They were only ice-spears," she replied.  "They
have all melted away."

The young Indian was greatly disappointed, and
wondered how he could avenge himself on the being
who had played him this malicious trick.

"Be warned in time," said the aged grandmother,
shaking her head at him.  "Take my advice and leave
him alone."



The Charmed Stone

But the youth's adventurous spirit impelled him to
see the end of the matter, so he took a stone and tied
it round his neck for a charm, and sought the lake
once again.  Carefully observing the direction from
which the voice proceeded, he saw in the middle of the
lake a huge head with a face on every side of it.

"Aha! uncle," he exclaimed, "I see you!  How
would you like it if the lake dried up?"

"Nonsense!" said the voice angrily, "that will
never happen."

"Go home and see," shouted the youth, mimicking
the mocking tone the other had adopted on the
previous occasions.  As he spoke he swung his charmed
stone round his head and threw it into the air.  As it
descended it grew larger and larger, and the moment
it entered the lake the water began to boil.

{242}
The lad returned home and told his grandmother
what he had done.

"It is of no use," said she.  "Many have tried to
slay him, but all have perished in the attempt."

Next morning our hero went westward again, and
found the lake quite dry, and the animals in it dead,
with the exception of a large green frog, who was in
reality the malicious being who had tormented the
Indian and his grandmother.  A quick blow with a
stick put an end to the creature, and the triumphant
youth bore the good news to his old grandmother, who
from that time was left in peace and quietness.



The Friendly Skeleton

A little boy living in the woods with his old uncle was
warned by him not to go eastward, but to play close to
the lodge or walk toward the west.  The child felt a
natural curiosity to know what lay in the forbidden
direction, and one day took advantage of his uncle's
absence on a hunting expedition to wander away to the
east.  At length he came to a large lake, on the shores of
which he stopped to rest.  Here he was accosted by a
man, who asked him his name and where he lived.

"Come," said the stranger, when he had finished
questioning the boy, "let us see who can shoot an
arrow the highest."

This they did, and the boy's arrow went much higher
than that of his companion.

The stranger then suggested a swimming match.

"Let us see," he said, "who can swim farthest under
water without taking a breath."

Again the boy beat his rival, who next proposed
that they should sail out to an island in the middle of
the lake, to see the beautiful birds that were to be
found there.  The child consented readily, and they
{243}
embarked in a curious canoe, which was propelled by
three swans harnessed to either side of it.  Directly they
had taken their seats the man began to sing, and the
canoe moved off.  In a very short time they had reached
the island.  Here the little Indian realized that his
confidence in his new-found friend was misplaced.  The
stranger took all his clothes from him, put them in the
canoe, and jumped in himself, saying:

"Come, swans, let us go home."

The obedient swans set off at a good pace, and
soon left the island far behind.  The boy was very
angry at having been so badly used, but when it
grew dark his resentment changed to fear, and he sat
down and cried with cold and misery.  Suddenly he
heard a husky voice close at hand, and, looking round,
he saw a skeleton on the ground.

"I am very sorry for you," said the skeleton in
hoarse tones.  "I will do what I can to help you.
But first you must do something for me.  Go and
dig by that tree, and you shall find a tobacco-pouch
with some tobacco in it, a pipe, and a flint."

The boy did as he was asked, and when he had
filled the pipe he lit it and placed it in the mouth of
the skeleton.  He saw that the latter's body was full
of mice, and that the smoke frightened them away.

[Illustration: "He lit a pipe and placed it in the
mouth of the skeleton"]

"There is a man coming to-night with three dogs,"
said the skeleton.  "He is coming to look for you.
You must make tracks all over the island, so that they
may not find you, and then hide in a hollow tree."

Again the boy obeyed his gaunt instructor, and when
he was safely hidden he saw a man come ashore with
three dogs.  All night they hunted him, but he had made
so many tracks that the dogs were confused, and at last
the man departed in anger.  Next day the trembling
boy emerged and went to the skeleton.

{244}

"To-night," said the latter, "the man who brought
you here is coming to drink your blood.  You must
dig a hole in the sand and hide.  When he comes out of
the canoe you must enter it.  Say, 'Come, swans, let us
go home,' and if the man calls you do not look back."



The Lost Sister

Everything fell out as the skeleton had foretold.
The boy hid in the sand, and directly he saw his
tormentor step ashore he jumped into the canoe,
saying hastily, "Come, swans, let us go home."  Then
he began to sing as he had heard the man do when
they first embarked.  In vain the man called him back;
he refused to look round.  The swans carried the
canoe to a cave in a high rock, where the boy found
his clothes, as well as a fire and food.  When he
had donned his garments and satisfied his hunger
he lay down and slept.  In the morning he returned
to the island, where he found the tyrant quite dead.
The skeleton now commanded him to sail eastward to
seek for his sister, whom a fierce man had carried
away.  He set out eagerly on his new quest, and a
three days' journey brought him to the place where his
sister was.  He lost no time in finding her.

"Come, my sister," said he, "let us flee away
together."

"Alas!  I cannot," answered the young woman.  "A
wicked man keeps me here.  It is time for him to
return home, and he would be sure to catch us.  But
let me hide you now, and in the morning we shall go
away."

So she dug a pit and hid her brother, though not a
moment too soon, for the footsteps of her husband
were heard approaching the hut.  The woman had
cooked a child, and this she placed before the man.

{245}

"You have had visitors," he said, seeing his dogs
snuffing around uneasily.

"No," was the reply, "I have seen no one but you."

"I shall wait till to-morrow," said the man to himself.
"Then I shall kill and eat him."  He had already
guessed that his wife had not spoken the truth.
However, he said nothing more, but waited till morning,
when, instead of going to a distant swamp to seek for
food, as he pretended to do, he concealed himself
at a short distance from the hut, and at length saw
the brother and sister making for a canoe.  They were
hardly seated when they saw him running toward them.
In his hand he bore a large hook, with which he
caught the frail vessel; but the lad broke the hook
with a stone, and the canoe darted out on to the lake.
The man was at a loss for a moment, and could only
shout incoherent threats after the pair.  Then an idea
occurred to him, and, lying down on the shore, he
began to drink the water.  This caused the canoe to
rush back again, but once more the boy was equal to
the occasion.  Seizing the large stone with which he
had broken the hook, he threw it at the man and slew
him, the water at the same time rushing back into the
lake.  Thus the brother and sister escaped, and in
three days they had arrived at the island, where they
heartily thanked their benefactor, the skeleton.  He,
however, had still another task for the young Indian
to perform.

"Take your sister home to your uncle's lodge," said
he; "then return here yourself, and say to the many
bones which you will find on the island, 'Arise,' and
they shall come to life again."

When the brother and sister reached their home
they found that their old uncle had been grievously
{246}
lamenting the loss of his nephew, and he was quite
overjoyed at seeing them.  On his recommendation
they built a large lodge to accommodate the people they
were to bring back with them.  When it was completed,
the youth revisited the island, bade the bones arise,
and was delighted to see them obey his bidding and
become men and women.  He led them to the lodge
he had built, where they all dwelt happily for a long
time.



The Pigmies

When the Cherokees were dwelling in the swamps
of Florida the Iroquois made a practice of swooping
down on them and raiding their camps.  On one
occasion the raiding party was absent from home for
close on two years.  On the eve of their return one
of their number, a chieftain, fell ill, and the rest of
the party were at a loss to know what to do with him.
Obviously, if they carried him home with them he
would considerably impede their progress.  Besides,
there was the possibility that he might not recover,
and all their labour would be to no purpose.  Thus
they debated far into the night, and finally decided to
abandon him to his fate and return by themselves.
The sick man, unable to stir hand or foot, overheard
their decision, but he bore it stoically, like an Indian
warrior.  Nevertheless, when he heard the last swish
of their paddles as they crossed the river he could not
help thinking of the friends and kindred he would
probably never see again.

When the raiders reached home they were closely
questioned as to the whereabouts of the missing chief,
and the inquiries were all the more anxious because
the sick man had been a great favourite among his
people.  The guilty warriors answered evasively.  They
{247}
did not know what had become of their comrade,
they said.  Possibly he had been lost or killed in
Florida.

Meanwhile the sick man lay dying on the banks of
the river.  Suddenly he heard, quite close at hand, the
gentle sound of a canoe.  The vessel drew in close to
the bank, and, full in view of the warrior, three pigmy
men disembarked.  They regarded the stranger with
some surprise.  At length one who seemed to be
the leader advanced and spoke to him, bidding him
await their return, and promising to look after him.
They were going, he said, to a certain 'salt-lick,' where
many curious animals watered, in order to kill some
for food.



The Salt-Lick

When the pigmies arrived at the place they found
that no animals were as yet to be seen, but very soon
a large buffalo bull came to drink.  Immediately a
buffalo cow arose from the lick, and when they had
satisfied their thirst the two animals lay down on the
bank.  The pigmies concluded that the time was ripe
for killing them, and, drawing their bows, they
succeeded in dispatching the buffaloes.  Returning to
the sick man, they amply fulfilled their promise to take
care of him, skilfully tending him until he had made a
complete recovery.  They then conveyed him to his
friends, who now learnt that the story told them by
the raiders was false.  Bitterly indignant at the
deception and heartless cruelty of these men, they fell upon
them and punished them according to their deserts.

Later the chief headed a band of people who were
curious to see the lick, which they found surrounded
by the bones of numberless large animals which had
been killed by the pigmies.

{248}

This story is interesting as a record of what were
perhaps the last vestiges of a pigmy folk who at one
time inhabited the eastern portion of North America,
before the coming of the Red Man.  We have already
alluded to this people, in the pages dealing with the
discoveries of the Norsemen in the continent.



The Magical Serpent

In the seventeenth century a strange legend
concerning a huge serpent was found among the Hurons,
who probably got it from the neighbouring Algonquins.
This monster had on its head a horn which would
pierce anything, even the hardest rock.  Any one
possessing a piece of it was supposed to have very
good fortune.  The Hurons did not know where the
creature was to be found, but said that the Algonquins
were in the habit of selling them small pieces of the
magic horn.

It is possible that the mercenary Shawnees had
borrowed this myth from the Cherokees for their own
purposes.  At all events a similar legend existed among
both tribes which told of a monster snake, the King
of Rattlesnakes, who dwelt up among the mountain-passes,
attended by a retinue of his kind.  Instead of
a crown, he wore on his head a beautiful jewel which
possessed magic properties.  Many a brave tried to
obtain possession of this desirable gem, but all fell
victims to the venomous reptiles.  At length a more
ingenious warrior clothed himself entirely in leather,
and so rendered himself impervious to their attack.
Making his way to the haunt of the serpents, he slew
their monster chief.  Then, triumphantly taking
possession of the wonderful jewel, he bore it to his tribe,
by whom it was regarded with profound veneration and
jealously preserved.



{249}

The Origin of Medicine

An interesting Cherokee myth is that which recounts
the origin of disease, and the consequent institution of
curative medicine.  In the old days, we are told, the
members of the brute creation were gifted with speech
and dwelt in amity with the human race, but mankind
multiplied so quickly that the animals were crowded
into the forests and desert places of the earth, so that
the old friendship between them was soon forgotten.
The breach was farther widened by the invention of
lethal weapons, by the aid of which man commenced
the wholesale slaughter of the beasts for the sake of
their flesh and skins.  The animals, at first surprised,
soon grew angry, and resolved upon measures of
retaliation.  The bear tribe met in council, presided
over by the Old White Bear, their chief.  After several
speakers had denounced mankind for their bloodthirsty
tendencies, war was unanimously decided upon, but
the lack of weapons was regarded as a serious drawback.
However, it was suggested that man's instruments
should be turned against himself, and as the bow and
arrow were considered to be the principal human agency
of destruction, it was resolved to fashion a specimen.
A suitable piece of wood was procured, and one of the
bears sacrificed himself to provide gut for a bowstring.
When the weapon was completed it was discovered
that the claws of the bears spoiled their shooting.  One
of the bears, however, cut his claws, and succeeded in
hitting the mark, but the Old White Bear very wisely
remarked that without claws they could not climb trees
or bring down game, and that were they to cut them
off they must all starve.

The deer also met in council, under their chief, the
Little Deer, when it was decided that those hunters who
{250}
slew one of their number without asking pardon in
a suitable manner should be afflicted with rheumatism.
They gave notice of this decision to the nearest
settlement of Indians, and instructed them how to
make propitiation when forced by necessity to kill one
of the deer-folk.  So when a deer is slain by the
hunter the Little Deer runs to the spot, and, bending
over the blood-stains, asks the spirit of the deer if it
has heard the prayer of the hunter for pardon.  If the
reply be 'Yes,' all is well, and the Little Deer departs;
but if the answer be in the negative, he tracks the
hunter to his cabin, and strikes him with rheumatism,
so that he becomes a helpless cripple.  Sometimes
hunters who have not learned the proper formula for
pardon attempt to turn aside the Little Deer from his
pursuit by building a fire behind them in the trail.



The Council of the Fishes

The fishes and reptiles then held a joint council, and
arranged to haunt those human beings who tormented
them with hideous dreams of serpents twining round
them and of eating fish which had become decayed.
These snake and fish dreams seem to be of common
occurrence among the Cherokees, and the services of
the _shamans_ to banish them are in constant demand.

Lastly, the birds and the insects, with the smaller
animals, gathered together for a similar purpose, the
grub-worm presiding over the meeting.  Each in turn
expressed an opinion, and the consensus was against
mankind.  They devised and named various diseases.

When the plants, which were friendly to man, heard
what had been arranged by the animals, they determined
to frustrate their evil designs.  Each tree, shrub, and
herb, down even to the grasses and mosses, agreed to
furnish a remedy for some one of the diseases named.
{251}
Thus did medicine come into being.  When the _shaman_
is in doubt as to what treatment to apply for the relief
of a patient the spirit of the plant suggests a fitting
remedy.



The Wonderful Kettle

A story is told among the Iroquois of two brothers
who lived in the wilderness far from all human
habitation.  The elder brother went into the forest to hunt
game, while the younger stayed at home and tended
the hut, cooked the food, and gathered firewood.

One evening the tired hunter returned from the
chase, and the younger brother took the game from
him as usual and dressed it for supper.  "I will smoke
awhile before I eat," said the hunter, and he smoked
in silence for a time.  When he was tired of smoking
he lay down and went to sleep.

"Strange," said the boy; "I should have thought
he would want to eat first."

When the hunter awoke he found that his brother
had prepared the supper and was waiting for him.

"Go to bed," said he; "I wish to be alone."

Wondering much, the boy did as he was bidden,
but he could not help asking himself how his brother
could possibly live if he did not eat.  In the
morning he observed that the hunter went away without
tasting any food, and on many succeeding mornings
and evenings the same thing happened.

"I must watch him at night," said the boy to himself,
"for he must eat at night, since he eats at no other
time."

That same evening, when the lad was told as usual
to go to bed, he lay down and pretended to be sound
asleep, but all the time one of his eyes was open.  In
this cautious fashion he watched his brother, and saw
{252}
him rise from his couch and pass through a trap-door
in the floor, from which he shortly emerged bearing
a rusty kettle, the bottom of which he scraped
industriously.  Filling it with water, he set it on the
blazing fire.  As he did so he struck it with a whip,
saying at every blow: "Grow larger, my kettle!"

The obedient kettle became of gigantic proportions,
and after setting it aside to cool the man ate its contents
with evident relish.

His watchful younger brother, well content with
the result of his observation, turned over and went to
sleep.

When the elder had set off next morning, the boy,
filled with curiosity, opened the trap-door and
discovered the kettle.  "I wonder what he eats," he said,
and there within the vessel was half a chestnut!  He
was rather surprised at this discovery, but he thought
to himself how pleased his brother would be if on his
return he found a meal to his taste awaiting him.
When evening drew near he put the kettle on the
fire, took a whip, and, hitting it repeatedly, exclaimed:
"Grow larger, my kettle!"

[Illustration: "'Grow larger, my kettle!'"]

The kettle grew larger, but to the boy's alarm it
kept on growing until it filled the room, and he was
obliged to get on the roof and stir it through the
chimney.

"What are you doing up there?" shouted the hunter,
when he came within hail.

"I took your kettle to get your supper ready,"
answered the boy.

"Alas!" cried the other, "now I must die!"

He quickly reduced the kettle to its original proportions
and put it in its place.  But he still wore such
a sad and serious air that his brother was filled with
dismay, and prayed that he might be permitted to
{253}
undo the mischief he had wrought.  When the days
went past and he found that his brother no longer
went out to hunt or displayed any interest in life, but
grew gradually thinner and more melancholy, his distress
knew no bounds.

"Let me fetch you some chestnuts," he begged
earnestly.  "Tell me where they may be found."



The White Heron

"You must travel a full day's journey," said the hunter
in response to his entreaties.  "You will then reach
a river which is most difficult to ford.  On the opposite
bank there stands a lodge, and near by a chestnut-tree.
Even then your difficulties will only be begun.
The tree is guarded by a white heron, which never
loses sight of it for a moment.  He is employed for
that purpose by the six women who live in the lodge,
and with their war-clubs they slay any one who has the
temerity to approach.  I beg of you, do not think of
going on such a hopeless errand."

But the boy felt that were the chance of success even
more slender he must make the attempt for the sake of
his brother, whom his thoughtlessness had brought low.

He made a little canoe about three inches long, and
set off on his journey, in the direction indicated by his
brother.  At the end of a day he came to the river,
whose size had not been underestimated.  Taking his
little canoe from his pocket, he drew it out till it was of
a suitable length, and launched it in the great stream.
A few minutes sufficed to carry him to the opposite
bank, and there he beheld the lodge and the chestnut-tree.
On his way he had managed to procure some
seeds of a sort greatly liked by herons, and these he
scattered before the beautiful white bird strutting round
the tree.  While the heron was busily engaged in
{254}
picking them up the young man seized his opportunity
and gathered quantities of the chestnuts, which were
lying thickly on the ground.  Ere his task was finished,
however, the heron perceived the intruder, and called a
loud warning to the women in the lodge, who were not
slow to respond.  They rushed out with their fishing-lines
in their hands, and gave chase to the thief.  But
fear, for his brother as well as for himself, lent the
youth wings, and he was well out on the river in his
canoe when the shrieking women reached the bank.
The eldest threw her line and caught him, but with a
sharp pull he broke it.  Another line met with the
same fate, and so on, until all the women had thrown
their lines.  They could do nothing further, and were
obliged to watch the retreating canoe in impotent rage.

At length the youth, having come safely through
the perils of the journey, arrived home with his
precious burden of chestnuts.  He found his brother
still alive, but so weak that he could hardly speak.  A
meal of the chestnuts, however, helped to revive him,
and he quickly recovered.



The Stone Giantess

In bygone times it was customary for a hunter's wife
to accompany her husband when he sought the chase.
A dutiful wife on these occasions would carry home
the game killed by the hunter and dress and cook it
for him.

There was once a chief among the Iroquois who was
a very skilful hunter.  In all his expeditions his wife
was his companion and helper.  On one excursion he
found such large quantities of game that he built a
wigwam at the place, and settled there for a time with
his wife and child.  One day he struck out on a new
{255}
track, while his wife followed the path they had taken
on the previous day, in order to gather the game
killed then.  As the woman turned her steps
homeward after a hard day's work she heard the sound of
another woman's voice inside the hut.  Filled with
surprise, she entered, but found to her consternation
that her visitor was no other than a Stone Giantess.  To
add to her alarm, she saw that the creature had in her
arms the chief's baby.  While the mother stood in the
doorway, wondering how she could rescue her child
from the clutches of the giantess, the latter said in a
gentle and soothing voice: "Do not be afraid: come
inside."

The hunter's wife hesitated no longer, but boldly
entered the wigwam.  Once inside, her fear changed
to pity, for the giantess was evidently much worn with
trouble and fatigue.  She told the hunter's wife, who
was kindly and sympathetic, how she had travelled from
the land of the Stone Giants, fleeing from her cruel
husband, who had sought to kill her, and how she had
finally taken shelter in the solitary wigwam.  She
besought the young woman to let her remain for a while,
promising to assist her in her daily tasks.  She also
said she was very hungry, but warned her hostess that
she must be exceedingly careful about the food she
gave her.  It must not be raw or at all underdone, for
if once she tasted blood she might wish to kill the
hunter and his wife and child.

So the wife prepared some food for her, taking care
that it was thoroughly cooked, and the two sat down
to dine together.  The Stone Giantess knew that the
woman was in the habit of carrying home the game, and
she now declared that she would do it in her stead.
Moreover, she said she already knew where it was to be
found, and insisted on setting out for it at once.  She
{256}
very shortly returned, bearing in one hand a load of
game which four men could scarcely have carried, and
the woman recognized in her a very valuable assistant.

The time of the hunter's return drew near, and the
Stone Giantess bade the wife go out and meet her
husband and tell him of her visitor.  The man was
very well pleased to learn how the new-comer had
helped his wife, and he gave her a hearty welcome.  In
the morning he went out hunting as usual.  When he
had disappeared from sight in the forest the giantess
turned quickly to the woman and said:

"I have a secret to tell you.  My cruel husband is
after me, and in three days he will arrive here.  On
the third day your husband must remain at home and
help me to slay him."

When the third day came round the hunter remained
at home, obedient to the instructions of his guest.

"Now," said the giantess at last, "I hear him
coming.  You must both help me to hold him.  Strike
him where I bid you, and we shall certainly kill him."

The hunter and his wife were seized with terror
when a great commotion outside announced the arrival
of the Stone Giant, but the firmness and courage of
the giantess reassured them, and with something like
calmness they awaited the monster's approach.  Directly
he came in sight the giantess rushed forward, grappled
with him and threw him to the ground.

"Strike him on the arms!" she cried to the others.
"Now on the nape of the neck!"

The trembling couple obeyed, and very shortly they
had succeeded in killing the huge creature.

"I will go and bury him," said the giantess.  And
that was the end of the Stone Giant.

The strange guest stayed on in the wigwam till the
time came for the hunter and his family to go back to
{257}
the settlement, when she announced her intention of
returning to her own people.

"My husband is dead," said she; "I have no
longer anything to fear."  Thus, having bade them
farewell, she departed.



The Healing Waters

The Iroquois have a touching story of how a brave
of their race once saved his wife and his people from
extinction.

It was winter, the snow lay thickly on the ground,
and there was sorrow in the encampment, for with the
cold weather a dreadful plague had visited the people.
There was not one but had lost some relative, and
in some cases whole families had been swept away.
Among those who had been most sorely bereaved was
Nekumonta, a handsome young brave, whose parents,
brothers, sisters, and children had died one by one
before his eyes, the while he was powerless to help
them.  And now his wife, the beautiful Shanewis, was
weak and ill.  The dreaded disease had laid its awful
finger on her brow, and she knew that she must shortly
bid her husband farewell and take her departure for the
place of the dead.  Already she saw her dead friends
beckoning to her and inviting her to join them, but it
grieved her terribly to think that she must leave her
young husband in sorrow and loneliness.  His despair
was piteous to behold when she broke the sad news
to him, but after the first outburst of grief he bore up
bravely, and determined to fight the plague with all
his strength.

"I must find the healing herbs which the Great
Manitou has planted," said he.  "Wherever they may
be, I must find them."

So he made his wife comfortable on her couch,
{258}
covering her with warm furs, and then, embracing her
gently, he set out on his difficult mission.

All day he sought eagerly in the forest for the
healing herbs, but everywhere the snow lay deep,
and not so much as a blade of grass was visible.
When night came he crept along the frozen ground,
thinking that his sense of smell might aid him in his
search.  Thus for three days and nights he wandered
through the forest, over hills and across rivers, in a
vain attempt to discover the means of curing the malady
of Shanewis.

When he met a little scurrying rabbit in the path he
cried eagerly: "Tell me, where shall I find the herbs
which Manitou has planted?"

But the rabbit hurried away without reply, for he
knew that the herbs had not yet risen above the ground,
and he was very sorry for the brave.

Nekumonta came by and by to the den of a big
bear, and of this animal also he asked the same
question.  But the bear could give him no reply, and he
was obliged to resume his weary journey.  He
consulted all the beasts of the forest in turn, but from
none could he get any help.  How could they tell him,
indeed, that his search was hopeless?



The Pity of the Trees

On the third night he was very weak and ill, for he
had tasted no food since he had first set out, and he was
numbed with cold and despair.  He stumbled over a
withered branch hidden under the snow, and so tired
was he that he lay where he fell, and immediately went
to sleep.  All the birds and the beasts, all the multitude
of creatures that inhabit the forest, came to watch over
his slumbers.  They remembered his kindness to them
in former days, how he had never slain an animal unless
{259}
he really needed it for food or clothing, how he had
loved and protected the trees and the flowers.  Their
hearts were touched by his courageous fight for Shanewis,
and they pitied his misfortunes.  All that they could do
to aid him they did.  They cried to the Great Manitou
to save his wife from the plague which held her, and
the Great Spirit heard the manifold whispering and
responded to their prayers.

[Illustration: "She sang a strange, sweet song"]

While Nekumonta lay asleep there came to him the
messenger of Manitou, and he dreamed.  In his dream
he saw his beautiful Shanewis, pale and thin, but as
lovely as ever, and as he looked she smiled at him,
and sang a strange, sweet song, like the murmuring of
a distant waterfall.  Then the scene changed, and it
really was a waterfall he heard.  In musical language
it called him by name, saying: "Seek us, O Nekumonta,
and when you find us Shanewis shall live.  We
are the Healing Waters of the Great Manitou."

Nekumonta awoke with the words of the song still
ringing in his ears.  Starting to his feet, he looked in
every direction; but there was no water to be seen,
though the murmuring sound of a waterfall was
distinctly audible.  He fancied he could even distinguish
words in it.



The Finding of the Waters

"Release us!" it seemed to say.  "Set us free, and
Shanewis shall be saved!"

Nekumonta searched in vain for the waters.  Then
it suddenly occurred to him that they must be
underground, directly under his feet.  Seizing branches,
stones, flints, he dug feverishly into the earth.  So
arduous was the task that before it was finished he was
completely exhausted.  But at last the hidden spring
was disclosed, and the waters were rippling merrily
{260}
down the vale, carrying life and happiness wherever
they went.  The young man bathed his aching limbs
in the healing stream, and in a moment he was well
and strong.

Raising his hands, he gave thanks to Manitou.  With
eager fingers he made a jar of clay, and baked it in the
fire, so that he might carry life to Shanewis.  As he
pursued his way homeward with his treasure his despair
was changed to rejoicing and he sped like the wind.

When he reached his village his companions ran to
greet him.  Their faces were sad and hopeless, for the
plague still raged.  However, Nekumonta directed
them to the Healing Waters and inspired them with
new hope.  Shanewis he found on the verge of the
Shadow-land, and scarcely able to murmur a farewell
to her husband.  But Nekumonta did not listen to her
broken adieux.  He forced some of the Healing Water
between her parched lips, and bathed her hands and
her brow till she fell into a gentle slumber.  When
she awoke the fever had left her, she was serene and
smiling, and Nekumonta's heart was filled with a great
happiness.

The tribe was for ever rid of the dreaded plague,
and the people gave to Nekumonta the title of 'Chief
of the Healing Waters,' so that all might know that it
was he who had brought them the gift of Manitou.



Sayadio in Spirit-land

A legend of the Wyandot tribe of the Iroquois
relates how Sayadio, a young Indian, mourned greatly
for a beautiful sister who had died young.  So deeply
did he grieve for her that at length he resolved to seek
her in the Land of Spirits.  Long he sought the maiden,
and many adventures did he meet with.  Years passed
in the search, which he was about to abandon as wholly
{261}
in vain, when he encountered an old man, who gave
him some good advice.  This venerable person also
bestowed upon him a magic calabash in which he
might catch and retain the spirit of his sister should
he succeed in finding her.  He afterward discovered
that this old man was the keeper of that part of the
Spirit-land which he sought.

Delighted to have achieved so much, Sayadio
pursued his way, and in due time reached the Land of
Souls.  But to his dismay he perceived that the spirits,
instead of advancing to meet him as he had expected,
fled from him in terror.  Greatly dejected, he
approached Tarenyawago, the spirit master of ceremonies,
who took compassion upon him and informed him that
the dead had gathered together for a great dance
festival, just such as the Indians themselves celebrate at
certain seasons of the year.  Soon the dancing
commenced, and Sayadio saw the spirits floating round in
a mazy measure like wreaths of mist.  Among them
he perceived his sister, and sprang forward to embrace
her, but she eluded his grasp and dissolved into air.

[Illustration: "Soon the dancing commenced"]

Much cast down, the youth once more appealed to
the sympathetic master of ceremonies, who gave him a
magic rattle of great power, by the sound of which he
might bring her back.  Again the spirit-music sounded
for the dance, and the dead folk thronged into the circle.
Once more Sayadio saw his sister, and observed that she
was so wholly entranced with the music that she took
no heed of his presence.  Quick as thought the young
Indian dipped up the ghost with his calabash as one
nets a fish, and secured the cover, in spite of all the
efforts of the captured soul to regain its liberty.

Retracing his steps earthward, he had no difficulty
in making his way back to his native village, where he
summoned his friends to come and behold his sister's
{262}
resuscitation.  The girl's corpse was brought from its
resting-place to be reanimated with its spirit, and all
was prepared for the ceremony, when a witless Indian
maiden must needs peep into the calabash in her
curiosity to see how a disembodied spirit looked.
Instantly, as a bird rises when its cage bars are opened
and flies forth to freedom, the spirit of Sayadio's sister
flew from the calabash before the startled youth could
dash forward and shut down the cover.  For a while
Sayadio could not realize his loss, but at length his
straining eyes revealed to him that the spirit of his
sister was not within sight.  In a flash he saw the ruin
of his hopes, and with a broken heart he sank senseless
to the earth.



The Peace Queen

A brave of the Oneida tribe of the Iroquois hunted
in the forest.  The red buck flashed past him, but not
swifter than his arrow, for as the deer leaped he loosed
his shaft and it pierced the dappled hide.

The young man strode toward the carcass, knife in
hand, but as he seized the horns the branches parted,
and the angry face of an Onondaga warrior lowered
between them.

"Leave the buck, Oneida," he commanded fiercely.
"It is the spoil of my bow.  I wounded the beast ere
you saw it."

The Oneida laughed.  "My brother may have shot
at the buck," he said, "but what avails that if he did
not slay it?"

"The carcass is mine by right of forest law," cried
the other in a rage.  "Will you quit it or will you
fight?"

The Oneida drew himself up and regarded the
Onondaga scornfully.

{263}

"As my brother pleases," he replied.  Next moment
the two were locked in a life-and-death struggle.

Tall was the Onondaga and strong as a great tree
of the forest.  The Oneida, lithe as a panther, fought
with all the courage of youth.  To and fro they swayed,
till their breathing came thick and fast and the falling
sweat blinded their eyes.  At length they could struggle
no longer, and by a mutual impulse they sprang apart.



The Quarrel

"Ho!  Onondaga," cried the younger man, "what
profits it thus to strive for a buck?  Is there no meat
in the lodges of your people that they must fight for
it like the mountain lion?"

"Peace, young man!" retorted the grave Onondaga.
"I had not fought for the buck had not your evil
tongue roused me.  But I am older than you, and, I
trust, wiser.  Let us seek the lodge of the Peace
Queen hard by, and she will award the buck to him
who has the best right to it."

"It is well," said the Oneida, and side by side they
sought the lodge of the Peace Queen.

Now the Five Nations in their wisdom had set apart
a Seneca maiden dwelling alone in the forest as arbiter
of quarrels between braves.  This maiden the men of
all tribes regarded as sacred and as apart from other
women.  Like the ancient Vestals, she could not become
the bride of any man.

As the Peace Queen heard the wrathful clamour of
the braves outside her lodge she stepped forth, little
pleased that they should thus profane the vicinity of
her dwelling.

"Peace!" she cried.  "If you have a grievance
enter and state it.  It is not fitting that braves should
quarrel where the Peace Queen dwells."

{264}

At her words the men stood abashed.  They entered
the lodge and told the story of their meeting and the
circumstances of their quarrel.

When they had finished the Peace Queen smiled
scornfully.  "So two such braves as you can quarrel
about a buck?" she said.  "Go, Onondaga, as the
elder, and take one half of the spoil, and bear it back
to your wife and children."

But the Onondaga stood his ground.



The Offers

"O Queen," he said, "my wife is in the Land of
Spirits, snatched from me by the Plague Demon.  But
my lodge does not lack food.  I would wive again,
and thine eyes have looked into my heart as the sun
pierces the darkness of the forest.  Will you come to
my lodge and cook my venison?"

But the Peace Queen shook her head.

"You know that the Five Nations have placed
Genetaska apart to be Peace Queen," she replied
firmly, "and that her vows may not be broken.  Go
in peace."

The Onondaga was silent.

Then spoke the Oneida.  "O Peace Queen," he
said, gazing steadfastly at Genetaska, whose eyes
dropped before his glance, "I know that you are set
apart by the Five Nations.  But it is in my mind to
ask you to go with me to my lodge, for I love you.
What says Genetaska?"

The Peace Queen blushed and answered: "To you
also I say, go in peace," but her voice was a whisper
which ended in a stifled sob.

The two warriors departed, good friends now that
they possessed a common sorrow.  But the Peace
Maiden had for ever lost her peace.  For she could
{265}
not forget the young Oneida brave, so tall, so strong,
and so gentle.

Summer darkened into autumn, and autumn whitened
into winter.  Warriors innumerable came to the Peace
Lodge for the settlement of disputes.  Outwardly
Genetaska was calm and untroubled, but though she gave
solace to others her own breast could find none.

One day she sat by the lodge fire, which had burned
down to a heap of cinders.  She was thinking, dreaming
of the young Oneida.  Her thoughts went out to him
as birds fly southward to seek the sun.  Suddenly a
crackling of twigs under a firm step roused her from
her reverie.  Quickly she glanced upward.  Before
her stood the youth of her dreams, pale and worn.

"Peace Queen," he said sadly, "you have brought
darkness to the soul of the Oneida.  No longer may
he follow the hunt.  The deer may sport in quiet for
him.  No longer may he bend the bow or throw the
tomahawk in contest, or listen to the tale during the
long nights round the camp-fire.  You have his heart
in your keeping.  Say, will you not give him yours?"

Softly the Peace Queen murmured: "I will."

Hand in hand like two joyous children they sought
his canoe, which bore them swiftly westward.  No
longer was Genetaska Peace Queen, for her vows were
broken by the power of love.

The two were happy.  But not so the men of the
Five Nations.  They were wroth because the Peace
Queen had broken her vows, and knew how foolish
they had been to trust to the word of a young and
beautiful woman.  So with one voice they abolished
the office of Peace Queen, and war and tumult returned
once more to their own.




{266}

CHAPTER V: SIOUX MYTHS AND LEGENDS


The Sioux or Dakota Indians

The Sioux or Dakota Indians dwell north of the Arkansas River on the
right bank of the Mississippi, stretching over to Lake Michigan and up
the valley of the Missouri.  One of their principal tribes is the Iowa.



The Adventures of Ictinike

Many tales are told by the Iowa Indians regarding Ictinike, the son of
the sun-god, who had offended his father, and was consequently expelled
from the celestial regions.  He possesses a very bad reputation among
the Indians for deceit and trickery.  They say that he taught them all
the evil things they know, and they seem to regard him as a Father of
Lies.  The Omahas state that he gave them their war-customs, and for
one reason or another they appear to look upon him as a species of
war-god.  A series of myths recount his adventures with several
inhabitants of the wild.  The first of these is as follows.

One day Ictinike encountered the Rabbit, and hailed him in a friendly
manner, calling him 'grandchild,' and requesting him to do him a
service.  The Rabbit expressed his willingness to assist the god to the
best of his ability, and inquired what he wished him to do.

"Oh, grandchild," said the crafty one, pointing upward to where a bird
circled in the blue vault above them, "take your bow and arrow and
bring down yonder bird."

The Rabbit fitted an arrow to his bow, and the shaft transfixed the
bird, which fell like a stone and lodged in the branches of a great
tree.

{267}

"Now, grandchild," said Ictinike, "go into the tree and fetch me the
game."

This, however, the Rabbit at first refused to do, but at length he took
off his clothes and climbed into the tree, where he stuck fast among
the tortuous branches.

Ictinike, seeing that he could not make his way down, donned the
unfortunate Rabbit's garments, and, highly amused at the animal's
predicament, betook himself to the nearest village.  There he
encountered a chief who had two beautiful daughters, the elder of whom
he married.  The younger daughter, regarding this as an affront to her
personal attractions, wandered off into the forest in a fit of the
sulks.  As she paced angrily up and down she heard some one calling to
her from above, and, looking upward, she beheld the unfortunate Rabbit,
whose fur was adhering to the natural gum which exuded from the bark of
the tree.  The girl cut down the tree and lit a fire near it, which
melted the gum and freed the Rabbit.  The Rabbit and the chief's
daughter compared notes, and discovered that the being who had tricked
the one and affronted the other was the same.  Together they proceeded
to the chief's lodge, where the girl was laughed at because of the
strange companion she had brought back with her.  Suddenly an eagle
appeared in the air above them.  Ictinike shot at and missed it, but
the Rabbit loosed an arrow with great force and brought it to earth.
Each morning a feather of the bird became another eagle, and each
morning Ictinike shot at and missed this newly created bird, which the
Rabbit invariably succeeded in killing.  This went on until Ictinike
had quite worn out the Rabbit's clothing and was wearing a very old
piece of tent skin; but the Rabbit returned to him the garments he had
been forced to don when Ictinike had stolen his.  Then {268} the Rabbit
commanded the Indians to beat the drums, and each time they were beaten
Ictinike jumped so high that every bone in his body was shaken.  At
length, after a more than usually loud series of beats, he leapt to
such a height that when he came down it was found that the fall had
broken his neck.  The Rabbit was avenged.

[Illustration: "He jumped so high that every bone in his body was
shaken"]



Ictinike and the Buzzard

One day Ictinike, footsore and weary, encountered a buzzard, which he
asked to oblige him by carrying him on its back part of the way.  The
crafty bird immediately consented, and, seating Ictinike between its
wings, flew off with him.

They had not gone far when they passed above a hollow tree, and
Ictinike began to shift uneasily in his seat as he observed the buzzard
hovering over it.  He requested the bird to fly onward, but for answer
it cast him headlong into the tree-trunk, where he found himself a
prisoner.  For a long time he lay there in want and wretchedness, until
at last a large hunting-party struck camp at the spot.  Ictinike
chanced to be wearing some racoon skins, and he thrust the tails of
these through the cracks in the tree.  Three women who were standing
near imagined that a number of racoons had become imprisoned in the
hollow trunk, and they made a large hole in it for the purpose of
capturing them.  Ictinike at once emerged, whereupon the women fled.
Ictinike lay on the ground pretending to be dead, and as he was covered
with the racoon-skins the birds of prey, the eagle, the rook, and the
magpie, came to devour him.  While they pecked at him the buzzard made
his appearance for the purpose of joining in the feast, but Ictinike,
rising quickly, tore the feathers from its scalp.  That is why the
buzzard has no feathers on its head.



{269}

Ictinike and the Creators

In course of time Ictinike married and dwelt in a lodge of his own.
One day he intimated to his wife that it was his intention to visit her
grandfather the Beaver.  On arriving at the Beaver's lodge he found
that his grandfather-in-law and his family had been without food for a
long time, and were slowly dying of starvation.  Ashamed at having no
food to place before their guest, one of the young beavers offered
himself up to provide a meal for Ictinike, and was duly cooked and
served to the visitor.  Before Ictinike partook of the dish, however,
he was earnestly requested by the Beaver not to break any of the bones
of his son, but unwittingly he split one of the toe-bones.  Having
finished his repast, he lay down to rest, and the Beaver gathered the
bones and put them in a skin.  This he plunged into the river that
flowed beside his lodge, and in a moment the young beaver emerged from
the water alive.

"How do you feel, my son?" asked the Beaver.

"Alas! father," replied the young beaver, "one of my toes is broken."

From that time every beaver has had one toe--that next to the little
one--which looks as if it had been split by biting.

Ictinike shortly after took his leave of the Beavers, and pretended to
forget his tobacco-pouch, which he left behind.  The Beaver told one of
his young ones to run after him with the pouch, but, being aware of
Ictinike's treacherous character, he advised his offspring to throw it
to the god when at some distance away.  The young beaver accordingly
took the pouch and hurried after Ictinike, and, obeying his father's
instruction, was about to throw it to him from a {270} considerable
distance when Ictinike called to him: "Come closer, come closer."

The young beaver obeyed, and as Ictinike took the pouch from him he
said: "Tell your father that he must visit me."

When the young beaver arrived home he acquainted his father with what
had passed, and the Beaver showed signs of great annoyance.

"I knew he would say that," he growled, "and that is why I did not want
you to go near him."

But the Beaver could not refuse the invitation, and in due course
returned the visit.  Ictinike, wishing to pay him a compliment, was
about to kill one of his own children wherewith to regale the Beaver,
and was slapping it to make it cry in order that he might work himself
into a passion sufficiently murderous to enable him to take its life,
when the Beaver spoke to him sharply and told him that such a sacrifice
was unnecessary.  Going down to the stream hard by, the Beaver found a
young beaver by the water, which was brought up to the lodge, killed
and cooked, and duly eaten.

On another occasion Ictinike announced to his wife his intention of
calling upon her grandfather the Musk-rat.  At the Musk-rat's lodge he
met with the same tale of starvation as at the home of the Beaver, but
the Musk-rat told his wife to fetch some water, put it in the kettle,
and hang the kettle over the fire.  When the water was boiling the
Musk-rat upset the kettle, which was found to be full of wild rice,
upon which Ictinike feasted.  As before, he left his tobacco-pouch with
his host, and the Musk-rat sent one of his children after him with the
article.  An invitation for the Musk-rat to visit him resulted, and the
call was duly paid.  Ictinike, wishing to display his magical {271}
powers, requested his wife to hang a kettle of water over the fire,
but, to his chagrin, when the water was boiled and the kettle upset
instead of wild rice only water poured out.  Thereupon the Musk-rat had
the kettle refilled, and produced an abundance of rice, much to
Ictinike's annoyance.

Ictinike then called upon his wife's grandfather the Kingfisher, who,
to provide him with food, dived into the river and brought up fish.
Ictinike extended a similar invitation to him, and the visit was duly
paid.  Desiring to be even with his late host, the god dived into the
river in search of fish.  He soon found himself in difficulties,
however, and if it had not been for the Kingfisher he would most
assuredly have been drowned.

Lastly, Ictinike went to visit his wife's grandfather the Flying
Squirrel.  The Squirrel climbed to the top of his lodge and brought
down a quantity of excellent black walnuts, which Ictinike ate.  When
he departed from the Squirrel's house he purposely left one of his
gloves, which a small squirrel brought after him, and he sent an
invitation by this messenger for the Squirrel to visit him in turn.
Wishing to show his cleverness, Ictinike scrambled to the top of his
lodge, but instead of finding any black walnuts there he fell and
severely injured himself.  Thus his presumption was punished for the
fourth time.

The four beings alluded to in this story as the Beaver, Musk-rat,
Kingfisher, and Flying Squirrel are four of the creative gods of the
Sioux, whom Ictinike evidently could not equal so far as reproductive
magic was concerned.



The Story of Wabaskaha

An interesting story is that of Wabaskaha, an Omaha brave, the facts
related in which occurred about a {272} century ago.  A party of
Pawnees on the war-path raided the horses belonging to some Omahas
dwelling beside Omaha Creek.  Most of the animals were the property of
Wabaskaha, who immediately followed on their trail.  A few Omahas who
had tried to rescue the horses had also been carried off, and on the
arrival of the Pawnee party at the Republican River several of the
Pawnees proposed to put their prisoners to death.  Others, however,
refused to participate in such an act, and strenuously opposed the
suggestion.  A wife of one of the Pawnee chiefs fed the captives, after
which her husband gave them permission to depart.

After this incident quite a feeling of friendship sprang up between the
two peoples, and the Pawnees were continually inviting the Omahas to
feasts and other entertainments, but they refused to return the horses
they had stolen.  They told Wabaskaha that if he came for his horses in
the fall they would exchange them then for a certain amount of
gunpowder, and that was the best arrangement he could come to with
them.  On his way homeward Wabaskaha mourned loudly for the horses,
which constituted nearly the whole of his worldly possessions, and
called upon Wakanda, his god, to assist and avenge him.  In glowing
language he recounted the circumstances of his loss to the people of
his tribe, and so strong was their sense of the injustice done him that
next day a general meeting was held in the village to consider his
case.  A pipe was filled, and Wabaskaha asked the men of his tribe to
place it to their lips if they decided to take vengeance on the
Pawnees.  All did so, but the premeditated raid was postponed until the
early autumn.

After a summer of hunting the braves sought the war-path.  They had
hardly started when a number of {273} Dakotas arrived at their village,
bringing some tobacco.  The Dakotas announced their intention of
joining the Omaha war-party, the trail of which they took up
accordingly.  In a few days the Omahas arrived at the Pawnee village,
which they attacked at daylight.  After a vigorous defence the Pawnees
were almost exterminated, and all their horses captured.  The Dakotas
who had elected to assist the Omaha war-party were, however, slain to a
man.  Such was the vengeance of Wabaskaha.

This story is interesting as an account of a veritable Indian raid,
taken from the lips of Joseph La Flèche, a Dakota Indian.



The Men-Serpents

Twenty warriors who had been on the war-path were returning homeward
worn-out and hungry, and as they went they scattered in search of game
to sustain them on their way.

Suddenly one of the braves, placing his ear to the ground, declared
that he could hear a herd of buffaloes approaching.

The band was greatly cheered by this news, and the plans made by the
chief to intercept the animals were quickly carried into effect.

[Illustration: The War-chief kills the Monster Rattlesnake]

Nearer and nearer came the supposed herd.  The chief lay very still,
ready to shoot when it came within range.  Suddenly he saw, to his
horror, that what approached them was a huge snake with a rattle as
large as a man's head.  Though almost paralysed with surprise and
terror, he managed to shoot the monster and kill it.  He called up his
men, who were not a little afraid of the gigantic creature, even though
it was dead, and for a long time they debated what they should do with
the carcass.  At length hunger {274} conquered their scruples and made
them decide to cook and eat it.  To their surprise, they found the meat
as savoury as that of a buffalo, which it much resembled.  All partook
of the fare, with the exception of one boy, who persisted in refusing
it, though they pressed him to eat.

When the warriors had finished their meal they lay down beside the
camp-fire and fell asleep.  Later in the night the chief awoke and was
horrified to find that his companions had turned to snakes, and that he
himself was already half snake, half man.  Hastily he gathered his
transformed warriors, and they saw that the boy who had not eaten of
the reptile had retained his own form.  The lad, fearing that the
serpents might attack him, began to weep, but the snake-warriors
treated him very kindly, giving him their charms and all they possessed.

At their request he put them into a large robe and carried them to the
summit of a high hill, where he set them down under the trees.

"You must return to our lodges," they told him, "and in the summer we
will visit our kindred.  See that our wives and children come out to
greet us."

The boy carried the news to his village, and there was much weeping and
lamentation when the friends of the warriors heard of their fate.  But
in the summer the snakes came and sat in a group outside the village,
and all the people crowded round them, loudly venting their grief.  The
horses which had belonged to the snakes were brought out to them, as
well as their moccasins, leggings, whips, and saddles.

"Do not be afraid of them," said the boy to the assembled people.  "Do
not flee from them, lest something happen to you also."  So they let
the snakes creep over them, and no harm befell.  {275} In the winter
the snakes vanished altogether, and with them their horses and other
possessions, and the people never saw them more.



The Three Tests

There dwelt in a certain village a woman of remarkable grace and
attractiveness.  The fame of her beauty drew suitors from far and near,
eager to display their prowess and win the love of this imperious
creature--for, besides being beautiful, she was extremely hard to
please, and set such tests for her lovers as none had ever been able to
satisfy.

A certain young man who lived at a considerable distance had heard of
her great charms, and made up his mind to woo and win her.  The
difficulty of the task did not daunt him, and, full of hope, he set out
on his mission.

As he travelled he came to a very high hill, and on the summit he saw a
man rising and sitting down at short intervals.  When the prospective
suitor drew nearer he observed that the man was fastening large stones
to his ankles.  The youth approached him, saying: "Why do you tie these
great stones to your ankles?"

"Oh," replied the other, "I wish to chase buffaloes, and yet whenever I
do so I go beyond them, so I am tying stones to my ankles that I may
not run so fast."

"My friend," said the suitor, "you can run some other time.  In the
meantime I am without a companion: come with me."

The Swift One agreed, and they walked on their way together.  Ere they
had gone very far they saw two large lakes.  By the side of one of them
sat a man, who frequently bowed his head to the water and drank.
Surprised that his thirst was not quenched, they said to him: "Why do
you sit there drinking of the lake?"

{276}

"I can never get enough water.  When I have finished this lake I shall
start on the other."

"My friend," said the suitor, "do not trouble to drink it just now.
Come and join us."

The Thirsty One complied, and the three comrades journeyed on.  When
they had gone a little farther they noticed a man walking along with
his face lifted to the sky.  Curious to know why he acted thus, they
addressed him.

"Why do you walk with your eyes turned skyward?" said they.

"I have shot an arrow," he said, "and I am waiting for it to reappear."

"Never mind your arrow," said the suitor.  "Come with us."

"I will come," said the Skilful Archer.

As the four companions journeyed through a forest they beheld a strange
sight.  A man was lying with his ear to the ground, and if he lifted
his head for a moment he bowed it again, listening intently.  The four
approached him, saying: "Friend, for what do you listen so earnestly?"

"I am listening," said he, "to the plants growing.  This forest is full
of plants, and I am listening to their breathing."

"You can listen when the occasion arises," they told him.  "Come and
join us."

He agreed, and so they travelled to the village where dwelt the
beautiful maiden.

When they had reached their destination they were quickly surrounded by
the villagers, who displayed no small curiosity as to who their
visitors were and what object they had in coming so far.  When they
heard that one of the strangers desired to marry the village beauty
they shook their heads over him.  Did he not {277} know the
difficulties in the way?  Finding that he would not be turned from his
purpose, they led him to a huge rock which overshadowed the village,
and described the first test he would be required to meet.

"If you wish to win the maiden," they said, "you must first of all push
away that great stone.  It is keeping the sunlight from us."

"Alas!" said the youth, "it is impossible."

"Not so," said his companion of the swift foot; "nothing could be more
easy."

[Illustration: "He leaned his shoulder against the rock"]

Saying this, he leaned his shoulder against the rock, and with a mighty
crash it fell from its place.  From the breaking up of it came the
rocks and stones that are scattered over all the world.

The second test was of a different nature.  The people brought the
strangers a large quantity of food and water, and bade them eat and
drink.  Being very hungry, they succeeded in disposing of the food, but
the suitor sorrowfully regarded the great kettles of water.

"Alas!" said he, "who can drink up that?"

"I can," said the Thirsty One, and in a twinkling he had drunk it all.

The people were amazed at the prowess of the visitors.  However, they
said, "There is still another test," and they brought out a woman who
was a very swift runner, so swift that no one had ever outstripped her
in a race.



The Race

"You must run a race with this woman," said they.  "If you win you
shall have the hand of the maiden you have come to seek."

Naturally the suitor chose the Swift One for this test.  When the
runners were started the people hailed them as {278} fairly matched,
for they raced together till they were out of sight.

When they reached the turning-point the woman said: "Come, let us rest
for a little."

The man agreed, but no sooner had he sat down than he fell asleep.  The
woman seized her opportunity.  Making sure that her rival was sleeping
soundly, she set off for the village, running as hard as she could.

Meanwhile the four comrades were anxiously awaiting the return of the
competitors, and great was their disappointment when the woman came in
sight, while there was yet no sign of their champion.

The man who could hear the plants growing bent his ear to the ground.

"He is asleep," said he; "I can hear him snoring."

The Skilful Archer came forward, and as he bit the point off an arrow
he said: "I will soon wake him."

He shot an arrow from the bowstring with such a wonderful aim that it
wounded the sleeper's nose, and roused him from his slumbers.  The
runner started to his feet and looked round for the woman.  She was
gone.  Knowing that he had been tricked, the Swift One put all his
energy into an effort to overtake her.  She was within a few yards of
the winning-post when he passed her.  It was a narrow margin, but
nevertheless the Swift One had gained the race for his comrade.

The youth was then married to the damsel, whom he found to be all that
her admirers had claimed, and more.



The Snake-Ogre

One day a young brave, feeling at variance with the world in general,
and wishing to rid himself of the mood, left the lodges of his people
and journeyed into {279} the forest.  By and by he came to an open
space, in the centre of which was a high hill.  Thinking he would climb
to the top and reconnoitre, he directed his footsteps thither, and as
he went he observed a man coming in the opposite direction and making
for the same spot.  The two met on the summit, and stood for a few
moments silently regarding each other.  The stranger was the first to
speak, gravely inviting the young brave to accompany him to his lodge
and sup with him.  The other accepted the invitation, and they
proceeded in the direction the stranger indicated.

On approaching the lodge the youth saw with some surprise that there
was a large heap of bones in front of the door.  Within sat a very old
woman tending a pot.  When the young man learned that the feast was to
be a cannibal one, however, he declined to partake of it.  The woman
thereupon boiled some corn for him, and while doing so told him that
his host was nothing more nor less than a snake-man, a sort of ogre who
killed and ate human beings.  Because the brave was young and very
handsome the old woman took pity on him, bemoaning the fate that would
surely befall him unless he could escape from the wiles of the
snake-man.

"Listen," said she: "I will tell you what to do.  Here are some
moccasins.  When the morning comes put them on your feet, take one
step, and you will find yourself on that headland you see in the
distance.  Give this paper to the man you will meet there, and he will
direct you further.  But remember that however far you may go, in the
evening the Snake will overtake you.  When you have finished with the
moccasins take them off, place them on the ground facing this way, and
they will return."

"Is that all?" said the youth.

{280}

"No," she replied.  "Before you go you must kill me and put a robe over
my bones."



The Magic Moccasins

The young brave forthwith proceeded to carry these instructions into
effect.  First of all he killed the old woman, and disposed of her
remains in accordance with her bidding.  In the morning he put on the
magic moccasins which she had provided for him, and with one great step
he reached the distant headland.  Here he met an old man, who received
the paper from him, and then, giving him another pair of moccasins,
directed him to a far-off point where he was to deliver another piece
of paper to a man who would await him there.  Turning the first
moccasins homeward, the young brave put the second pair to use, and
took another gigantic step.  Arrived at the second stage of his journey
from the Snake's lodge, he found it a repetition of the first.  He was
directed to another distant spot, and from that to yet another.  But
when he delivered his message for the fourth time he was treated
somewhat differently.

[Illustration: "With one great step he reached the distant headland"]

"Down there in the hollow," said the recipient of the paper, "there is
a stream.  Go toward it, and walk straight on, but do not look at the
water."

The youth did as he was bidden, and shortly found himself on the
opposite bank of the stream.

He journeyed up the creek, and as evening fell he came upon a place
where the river widened to a lake.  Skirting its shores, he suddenly
found himself face to face with the Snake.  Only then did he remember
the words of the old woman, who had warned him that in the evening the
Snake would overtake him.  So he turned himself into a little fish with
red fins, lazily moving in the lake.



{281}

The Snake's Quest

The Snake, high on the bank, saw the little creature, and cried:
"Little Fish! have you seen the person I am looking for?  If a bird had
flown over the lake you must have seen it, the water is so still, and
surely you have seen the man I am seeking?"

"Not so," replied the Little Fish, "I have seen no one.  But if he
passes this way I will tell you."

So the Snake continued down-stream, and as he went there was a little
grey toad right in his path.

"Little Toad," said he, "have you seen him for whom I am seeking?  Even
if only a shadow were here you must have seen it."

"Yes," said the Little Toad, "I have seen him, but I cannot tell you
which way he has gone."

The Snake doubled and came back on his trail.  Seeing a very large fish
in shallow water, he said: "Have you seen the man I am looking for?"

"That is he with whom you have just been talking," said the Fish, and
the Snake turned homeward.  Meeting a musk-rat he stopped.

"Have you seen the person I am looking for?" he said.  Then, having his
suspicions aroused, he added craftily: "I think that you are he."

But the Musk-rat began a bitter complaint.

"Just now," said he, "the person you seek passed over my lodge and
broke it."

So the Snake passed on, and encountered a red-breasted turtle.

He repeated his query, and the Turtle told him that the object of his
search was to be met with farther on.

"But beware," he added, "for if you do not recognize him he will kill
you."

{282}

Following the stream, the Snake came upon a large green frog floating
in shallow water.

"I have been seeking a person since morning," he said.  "I think that
you are he."

The Frog allayed his suspicions, saying: "You will meet him farther
down the stream."

The Snake next found a large turtle floating among the green scum on a
lake.  Getting on the Turtle's back, he said: "You must be the person I
seek," and his head rose higher and higher as he prepared to strike.

"I am not," replied the Turtle.  "The next person you meet will be he.
But beware, for if you do not recognize him he will kill you."

When he had gone a little farther down the Snake attempted to cross the
stream.  In the middle was an eddy.  Crafty as he was, the Snake failed
to recognize his enemy, and the eddy drew him down into the water and
drowned him.  So the youth succeeded in slaying the Snake who had
sought throughout the day to kill him.



The Story of the Salmon

A certain chief who had a very beautiful daughter was unwilling to part
with her, but knowing that the time must come when she would marry he
arranged a contest for her suitors, in which the feat was to break a
pair of elk's antlers hung in the centre of the lodge.

"Whoever shall break these antlers," the old chief declared, "shall
have the hand of my daughter."

The quadrupeds came first--the Snail, Squirrel, Otter, Beaver, Wolf,
Bear, and Panther; but all their strength and skill would not suffice
to break the antlers.  Next came the Birds, but their efforts also
{283} were unavailing.  The only creature left who had not attempted
the feat was a feeble thing covered with sores, whom the mischievous
Blue Jay derisively summoned to perform the task.  After repeated
taunts from the tricky bird, the creature rose, shook itself, and
became whole and clean and very good to look upon, and the assembled
company saw that it was the Salmon.  He grasped the elk's antlers and
easily broke them in five pieces.  Then, claiming his prize, the
chief's daughter, he led her away.

Before they had gone very far the people said: "Let us go and take the
chief's daughter back," and they set off in pursuit of the pair along
the sea-shore.

When Salmon saw what was happening he created a bay between himself and
his pursuers.  The people at length reached the point of the bay on
which Salmon stood, but he made another bay, and when they looked they
could see him on the far-off point of that one.  So the chase went on,
till Salmon grew tired of exercising his magic powers.

Coyote and Badger, who were in advance of the others, decided to shoot
at Salmon.  The arrow hit him in the neck and killed him instantly.
When the rest of the band came up they gave the chief's daughter to the
Wolves, and she became the wife of one of them.

In due time the people returned to their village, and the Crow, who was
Salmon's aunt, learnt of his death.  She hastened away to the spot
where he had been killed, to seek for his remains, but all she could
find was one salmon's egg, which she hid in a hole in the river-bank.
Next day she found that the egg was much larger, on the third day it
was a small trout, and so it grew till it became a full-grown salmon,
and at length a handsome youth.



{284}

Salmon's Magic Bath

Leading young Salmon to a mountain pool, his grand-aunt said: "Bathe
there, that you may see spirits."

One day Salmon said: "I am tired of seeing spirits.  Let me go away."

The old Crow thereupon told him of his father's death at the hands of
Badger and Coyote.

"They have taken your father's bow," she said.

The Salmon shot an arrow toward the forest, and the forest went on
fire.  He shot an arrow toward the prairie, and it also caught fire.

"Truly," muttered the old Crow, "you have seen spirits."

Having made up his mind to get his father's bow, Salmon journeyed to
the lodge where Coyote and Badger dwelt.  He found the door shut, and
the creatures with their faces blackened, pretending to lament the
death of old Salmon.  However, he was not deceived by their tricks, but
boldly entered and demanded his father's bow.  Four times they gave him
other bows, which broke when he drew them.  The fifth time it was
really his father's bow he received.  Taking Coyote and Badger outside,
he knocked them together and killed them.



The Wolf Lodge

As he travelled across the prairie he stumbled on the habitation of the
Wolves, and on entering the lodge he encountered his father's wife, who
bade him hide before the monsters returned.  By means of strategy he
got the better of them, shot them all, and sailed away in a little boat
with the woman.  Here he fell into a deep sleep, and slept so long that
at last his companion {285} ventured to wake him.  Very angry at being
roused, he turned her into a pigeon and cast her out of the boat, while
he himself, as a salmon, swam to the shore.  Near the edge of the water
was a lodge, where dwelt five beautiful sisters.  Salmon sat on the
shore at a little distance, and took the form of an aged man covered
with sores.  When the eldest sister came down to speak to him he bade
her carry him on her back to the lodge, but so loathsome a creature was
he that she beat a hasty retreat.  The second sister did likewise, and
the third, and the fourth.  But the youngest sister proceeded to carry
him to the lodge, where he became again a young and handsome brave.  He
married all the sisters, but the youngest was his head-wife and his
favourite.



The Drowned Child

On the banks of a river there dwelt a worthy couple with their only
son, a little child whom they loved dearly.  One day the boy wandered
away from the lodge and fell into the water, and no one was near enough
to rescue him.  Great was the distress of the parents when the news
reached them, and all his kindred were loud in their lamentations, for
the child had been a favourite with everybody.  The father especially
showed signs of the deepest grief, and refused to enter his lodge till
he should recover the boy.  All night he lay outside on the bare
ground, his cheek pillowed on his hand.  Suddenly he heard a faint
sound, far under the earth.  He listened intently: it was the crying of
his lost child!  Hastily he gathered all his relatives round him, told
them what he had heard, and besought them piteously to dig into the
earth and bring back his son.  This task they hesitated to undertake,
but they willingly collected {286} horses and goods in abundance, to be
given to any one who would venture.

Two men came forward who claimed to possess supernatural powers, and to
them was entrusted the work of finding the child.  The grateful father
gave them a pipe filled with tobacco, and promised them all his
possessions if their mission should succeed.  The two gifted men
painted their bodies, one making himself quite black, the other yellow.
Going to the neighbouring river, they plunged into its depths, and so
arrived at the abode of the Water-god.  This being and his wife, having
no children of their own, had adopted the Indian's little son who was
supposed to have been drowned, and the two men, seeing him alive and
well, were pleased to think that their task was as good as accomplished.

[Illustration: "They arrived at the abode of the Water-god"]

"The father has sent for his son," they said.  "He has commanded us to
bring him back.  We dare not return without him."

"You are too late," responded the Water-god.  "Had you come before he
had eaten of my food he might safely have returned with you.  But he
wished to eat, and he has eaten, and now, alas!  he would die if he
were taken out of the water."[1]


[1] See p. 129, "The Soul's Journey."


Sorrowfully the men rose to the surface and carried the tidings to the
father.

"Alas!" they said, "he has eaten in the palace of the Water-god.  He
will die if we bring him home."

Nevertheless the father persisted in his desire to see the child.

"I must see him," he said, and the two men prepared for a second
journey, saying: "If you get him back, the Water-god will require a
white dog in payment."

The Indian promised to supply the dog.  The two {287} men painted
themselves again, the one black, the other yellow.  Once more they
dived through the limpid water to the palace of the god.

"The father must have his child," they said.  "This time we dare not
return without him."

So the deity gave up the little boy, who was placed in his father's
arms, dead.  At the sight the grief of his kindred burst out afresh.
However, they did not omit to cast a white dog into the river, nor to
pay the men lavishly, as they had promised.

Later the parents lost a daughter in the same manner, but as she had
eaten nothing of the food offered her under the water she was brought
back alive, on payment by her relatives of a tribute to the Water-god
of four white-haired dogs.



The Snake-Wife

A certain chief advised his son to travel.  Idling, he pointed out, was
not the way to qualify for chieftainship.

"When I was your age," said he, "I did not sit still.  There was hard
work to be done.  And now look at me: I have become a great chief."

"I will go hunting, father," said the youth.  So his father furnished
him with good clothing, and had a horse saddled for him.

The young man went off on his expedition, and by and by fell in with
some elk.  Shooting at the largest beast, he wounded it but slightly,
and as it dashed away he spurred his horse after it.  In this manner
they covered a considerable distance, till at length the hunter, worn
out with thirst and fatigue, reined in his steed and dismounted.  He
wandered about in search of water till he was well-nigh spent, but
after a time he came upon a spring, and immediately improvised a song
of thanksgiving to the deity, {288} Wakanda, who had permitted him to
find it.  His rejoicing was somewhat premature, however, for when he
approached the spring a snake started up from it.  The youth was badly
scared, and retreated to a safe distance without drinking.  It seemed
as though he must die of thirst after all.  Venturing to look back
after a time, he saw that the snake had disappeared, and very
cautiously he returned.  Again the snake darted from the water, and the
thirsty hunter was forced to flee.  A third return to the spring had no
happier results, but when his thirst drove him to a fourth attempt the
youth found, instead of a snake, a very beautiful woman.  She offered
him a drink in a small cup, which she replenished as often as he
emptied it.  So struck was he by her grace and beauty that he promptly
fell in love with her.  When it was time for him to return home she
gave him a ring, saying: "When you sit down to eat, place this ring on
a seat and say, 'Come, let us eat,' and I will come to you."

Having bidden her farewell, the young man turned his steps homeward,
and when he was once more among his kindred he asked that food might be
placed before him.  "Make haste," said he, "for I am very hungry."

Quickly they obeyed him, and set down a variety of dishes.  When he was
alone the youth drew the ring from his finger and laid it on a seat.
"Come," he said, "let us eat."

Immediately the Snake-woman appeared and joined him at his meal.  When
she had eaten she vanished as mysteriously as she had come, and the
disconsolate husband (for the youth had married her) went out of the
lodge to seek her.  Thinking she might be among the women of the
village, he said to his father: "Let the women dance before me."

{289}

An old man was deputed to gather the women together, but not one of
them so much as resembled the Snake-woman.

Again the youth sat down to eat, and repeated the formula which his
wife had described to him.  She ate with him as before, and vanished
when the meal was over.

"Father," said the young man, "let the very young women dance before
me."

But the Snake-woman was not found among them either.

Another fleeting visit from his wife induced the chief's son to make
yet another attempt to find her in the community.

"Let the young girls dance," he said.  Still the mysterious Snake-woman
was not found.

One day a girl overheard voices in the youth's lodge, and, peering in,
saw a beautiful woman sharing his meal.  She told the news to the
chief, and it soon became known that the chief's son was married to a
beautiful stranger.

The youth, however, wished to marry a woman of his own tribe; but the
maiden's father, having heard that the young man was already married,
told his daughter that she was only being made fun of.

So the girl had nothing more to do with her wooer, who turned for
consolation to his ring.  He caused food to be brought, and placed the
ring on a seat.



The Ring Unavailing

"Come," he said, "let us eat."

There was no response; the Snake-woman would not appear.

The youth was greatly disappointed, and made up his mind to go in
search of his wife.

{290}

"I am going a-hunting," said he, and again his father gave him good
clothes and saddled a horse for him.

When he reached the spot where the Snake-woman had first met him, he
found her trail leading up to the spring, and beyond it on the other
side.  Still following the trail, he saw before him a very dilapidated
lodge, at the door of which sat an old man in rags.  The youth felt
very sorry for the tattered old fellow, and gave him his fine clothes,
in exchange for which he received the other's rags.

"You think you are doing me a good turn," said the old man, "but it is
I who am going to do you one.  The woman you seek has gone over the
Great Water.  When you get to the other shore talk with the people you
shall meet there, and if they do not obey you send them away."

In addition to the tattered garments, the old man gave him a hat, a
sword, and a lame old horse.

At the edge of the Great Water the youth prepared to cross, while his
companion seated himself on the shore, closed his eyes, and recited a
spell.  In a moment the young man found himself on the opposite shore.
Here he found a lodge inhabited by two aged Thunder-men, who were
apparently given to eating human beings.  The young stranger made the
discovery that his hat rendered him invisible, and he was able to move
unseen among the creatures.  Taking off his hat for a moment, he took
the pipe from the lips of a Thunder-man and pressed it against the
latter's hand.

"Oh," cried the Thunder-man, "I am burnt!"

But the youth had clapped on his hat and disappeared.

"It is not well," said the Thunder-man gravely.  "A stranger has been
here and we have let him escape.  {291} When our brother returns he
will not believe us if we tell him the man has vanished."

Shortly after this another Thunder-man entered with the body of a man
he had killed.  When the brothers told him their story he was quite
sceptical.

"If I had been here," said he, "I would not have let him escape."

As he spoke the youth snatched his pipe from him and pressed it against
the back of his hand.

"Oh," said the Thunder-man, "I am burnt!"

"It was not I," said one brother.

"It was not I," said the other.

"It was I," said the youth, pulling off his hat and appearing among
them.  "What were you talking about among yourselves?  Here I am.  Do
as you said."

But the Thunder-men were afraid.

"We were not speaking," they said, and the youth put on his hat and
vanished.

"What will our brother say," cried the three in dismay, "when he hears
that a man has been here and we have not killed him?  Our brother will
surely hate us."

In a few minutes another Thunder-man came into the lodge, carrying the
body of a child.  He was very angry when he heard that they had let a
man escape.

The youth repeated his trick on the new-comer--appeared for a moment,
then vanished again.  The fifth and last of the brothers was also
deceived in the same manner.

Seeing that the monsters were now thoroughly frightened, the young man
took off his magic hat and talked with them.



The Finding of the Snake-Wife

"You do wrong," said he, "to eat men like this.  You should eat
buffaloes, not men.  I am going away.  {292} When I come back I will
visit you, and if you are eating buffaloes you shall remain, but if you
are eating men I shall send you away."

The Thunder-men promised they would eat only buffaloes in future, and
the young man went on his way to seek for the Snake-woman.  When at
last he came to the village where she dwelt he found she had married a
man of another tribe, and in a great rage he swung the sword the
magician had given him and slew her, and her husband, and the whole
village, after which he returned the way he had come.  When he reached
the lodge of the Thunder-men he saw that they had not kept their
promise to eat only buffaloes.

"I am going to send you above," he said.  "Hitherto you have destroyed
men, but when I have sent you away you shall give them cooling rain to
keep them alive."

So he sent them above, where they became the thunder-clouds.

Proceeding on his journey, he again crossed the Great Water with a
single stride, and related to the old wizard all that had happened.

"I have sent the Thunder-men above, because they would not stop eating
men.  Have I done well?"

"Very well."

"I have killed the whole village where the Snake-woman was, because she
had taken another husband.  Have I done well?"

"Very well.  It was for that I gave you the sword."

The youth returned to his father, and married a very beautiful woman of
his own village.



A Subterranean Adventure

There lived in a populous village a chief who had two sons and one
daughter, all of them unmarried.  {293} Both the sons were in the habit
of joining the hunters when they went to shoot buffaloes, and on one
such occasion a large animal became separated from the herd.  One of
the chief's sons followed it, and when the pursuit had taken him some
distance from the rest of the party the buffalo suddenly disappeared
into a large pit.  Before they could check themselves man and horse had
plunged in after him.  When the hunters returned the chief was greatly
disturbed to learn that his son was missing.  He sent the criers in all
directions, and spared no pains to get news of the youth.

"If any person knows the whereabouts of the chiefs son," shouted the
criers, "let him come and tell."

This they repeated again and again, till at length a young man came
forward who had witnessed the accident.

"I was standing on a hill," he said, "and I saw the hunters, and I saw
the son of the chief.  And when he was on level ground he disappeared,
and I saw him no more."

He led the men of the tribe to the spot, and they scattered to look for
signs of the youth.  They found his trail; they followed it to the pit,
and there it stopped.

They pitched their tents round the chasm, and the chief begged his
people to descend into it to search for his son.

"If any man among you is brave and stout-hearted," he said, "let him
enter."

There was no response.

"If any one will go I will make him rich."

Still no one ventured to speak.

"If any one will go I will give him my daughter in marriage."

There was a stir among the braves and a youth came forward.

{294}

"I will go," he said simply.

Ropes of hide were made by willing hands, and secured to a skin shaped
to form a sort of bucket.

After arranging signals with the party at the mouth of the pit, the
adventurous searcher allowed himself to be lowered.  Once fairly
launched in the Cimmerian depths his eyes became accustomed to the
darkness, and he saw first the buffalo, then the horse, then the young
brave, quite dead.  He put the body of the chief's son into the skin
bucket, and gave the signal for it to be drawn up to the surface.  But
so great was the excitement that when his comrades had drawn up the
dead man they forgot about the living one still in the pit, and hurried
away.



Lost Underground

By and by the hero got tired of shouting, and wandered off into the
darkness.

He had not gone very far when he met an old woman.  Respectfully
addressing her, he told her his story and begged her to aid his return
to his own country.

"Indeed I cannot help you," she said, "but if you will go to the house
of the wise man who lives round the corner you may get what you want."

Having followed the direction she had indicated with a withered finger,
the youth shortly arrived at a lodge.  Hungry and weary, he knocked
somewhat impatiently.  Receiving no answer, he knocked again, still
more loudly.  This time there was a movement inside the lodge, and a
woman came to the door.  She led him inside, where her husband sat
dejectedly, not even rising to greet the visitor.  Sadly the woman told
him that they were mourning the death of their only son.  At a word
from his wife the husband looked at the youth.  Eagerly he rose and
embraced him.

{295}

"You are like our lost child," said he.  "Come and we will make you our
son."

The young brave then told him his story.

"We shall treat you as our child," said the Wise Man.  "Whatever you
shall ask we will give you, even should you desire to leave us and to
return to your own people."

Though he was touched by the kindness of the good folk, there was yet
nothing the youth desired so much as to return to his kindred.

"Give me," said he, "a white horse and a white mule."



The Return to Earth

The old man bade him go to where the horses were hobbled, and there he
found what he had asked for.  He also received from his host a magic
piece of iron, which would enable him to obtain whatever he desired.
The rocks even melted away at a touch of this talisman.  Thus equipped,
the adventurer rode off.

[Illustration: "He emerged in his own country"]

Shortly afterward he emerged in his own country, where the first
persons he met were the chief and his wife, to whom he disclosed his
identity, as he was by this time very much changed.  They were
sceptical at first, but soon they came to recognize him, and gave him a
very cordial reception.

He married the chief's daughter, and was made head chieftain by his
father-in-law.  The people built a lodge for him in the centre of the
encampment, and brought him many valuable presents of clothing and
horses.  On his marriage-day the criers were sent out to tell the
people that on the following day no one must leave the village or do
any work.

On the morrow all the men of the tribe went out to hunt buffaloes, and
the young chieftain accompanied {296} them.  By means of his magic
piece of iron he charmed many buffaloes, and slew more than did the
others.

Now it so happened that the chief's remaining son was very jealous of
his brother-in-law.  He thought his father should have given him the
chieftainship, and the honours accorded by the people to his young
relative were exceedingly galling to him.  So he made up his mind to
kill the youth and destroy his beautiful white horse.  But the
sagacious beast told its master that some one was plotting against his
life, and, duly warned, he watched in the stable every night.

On the occasion of a second great buffalo hunt the wicked schemer found
his opportunity.  By waving his robe he scared the buffaloes and caused
them to close in on the youth and trample him to death.  But when the
herd had scattered and moved away there was no trace of the young brave
or of his milk-white steed.  They had returned to the Underworld.



White Feather the Giant-Killer

There once dwelt in the heart of a great forest an old man and his
grandchild.  So far as he could remember, the boy had never seen any
human being but his grandfather, and though he frequently questioned
the latter on the subject of his relatives he could elicit no
information from him.  The truth was that they had perished at the
hands of six great giants.  The nation to which the boy belonged had
wagered their children against those of the giants that they would beat
the latter in a race.  Unfortunately the giants won, the children of
the rash Indians were forfeited, and all were slain with the exception
of little Chácopee, whose grandfather had taken charge of him.  The
child learned to hunt and fish, and seemed quite contented and happy.

{297}

One day the boy wandered away to the edge of a prairie, where he found
traces of an encampment.  Returning, he told his grandfather of the
ashes and tent-poles he had seen, and asked for an explanation.  Had
his grandfather set them there?  The old man responded brusquely that
there were no ashes or tent-poles: he had merely imagined them.  The
boy was sorely puzzled, but he let the matter drop, and next day he
followed a different path.  Quite suddenly he heard a voice addressing
him as "Wearer of the White Feather."  Now there had been a tradition
in his tribe that a mighty man would arise among them wearing a white
feather and performing prodigies of valour.  But of this Chácopee as
yet knew nothing, so he could only look about him in a startled way.
Close by him stood a man, which fact was in itself sufficiently
astonishing to the boy, who had never seen any one but his grandfather;
but to his further bewilderment he perceived that the man was made of
wood from the breast downward, only the head being of flesh.

"You do not wear the white feather yet," the curious stranger resumed,
"but you will by and by.  Go home and sleep.  You will dream of a pipe,
a sack, and a large white feather.  When you wake you will see these
things by your side.  Put the feather on your head and you will become
a very great warrior.  If you want proof, smoke the pipe and you will
see the smoke turn into pigeons."

He then proceeded to tell him who his parents were, and of the manner
in which they had perished, and bade him avenge their death on the
giants.  To aid him in the accomplishment of this feat he gave him a
magic vine which would be invisible to the giants, and with which he
must trip them up when they ran a race with him.

{298}

Chácopee returned home, and everything happened as the Man of Wood had
predicted.  The old grandfather was greatly surprised to see a flock of
pigeons issuing from the lodge, from which Chácopee also shortly
emerged, wearing on his head a white feather.  Remembering the
prophecy, the old man wept to think that he might lose his grandchild.



In Search of the Giants

Next morning Chácopee set off in search of the giants, whom he found in
a very large lodge in the centre of the forest.  The giants had learned
of his approach from the 'little spirits who carry the news.'  Among
themselves they mocked and scoffed at him, but outwardly they greeted
him with much civility, which, however, in nowise deceived him as to
their true feelings.  Without loss of time they arranged a race between
Chácopee and the youngest giant, the winner of which was to cut off the
head of the other.  Chdcopee won, with the help of his magic vine, and
killed his opponent.  Next morning he appeared again, and decapitated
another of his foes.  This happened on five mornings.  On the sixth he
set out as usual, but was met by the Man of Wood, who informed him that
on his way to the giants' lodge he would encounter the most beautiful
woman in the world.



Chácopee's Downfall

"Pay no attention to her," he said earnestly.  "She is there for your
destruction.  When you see her turn yourself into an elk, and you will
be safe from her wiles."

Chácopee proceeded on his way, and sure enough before long he met the
most beautiful woman in the world.  Mindful of the advice he had
received, he {299} turned himself into an elk, but, instead of passing
by, the woman, who was really the sixth giant, came up to him and
reproached him with tears for taking the form of an elk when she had
travelled so far to become his wife.  Chácopee was so touched by her
grief and beauty that he resumed his own shape and endeavoured to
console her with gentle words and caresses.  At last he fell asleep
with his head in her lap.  The beautiful woman once more became the
cruel giant, and, seizing his axe, the monster broke Chácopee's back;
then, turning him into a dog, he bade him rise and follow him.  The
white feather he stuck in his own head, fancying that magic powers
accompanied the wearing of it.

[Illustration: "Everything happened as the Man of Wood had predicted"]

In the path of the travellers there lay a certain village in which
dwelt two young girls, the daughters of a chief.  Having heard the
prophecy concerning the wearer of the white feather, each made up her
mind that she would marry him when he should appear.  Therefore, when
they saw a man approaching with a white feather in his hair the elder
ran to meet him, invited him into her lodge, and soon after married
him.  The younger, who was gentle and timid, took the dog into her home
and treated him with great kindness.

One day while the giant was out hunting he saw the dog casting a stone
into the water.  Immediately the stone became a beaver, which the dog
caught and killed.  The giant strove to emulate this feat, and was
successful, but when he went home and ordered his wife to go outside
and fetch the beaver only a stone lay by the door.  Next day he saw the
dog plucking a withered branch and throwing it on the ground, where it
became a deer, which the dog slew.  The Giant performed this magic feat
also, but when his wife went to the door of the lodge to fetch the deer
she saw only {300} a piece of rotten wood.  Nevertheless the giant had
some success in the chase, and his wife repaired to the home of her
father to tell him what a skilful hunter her husband was.  She also
spoke of the dog that lived with her sister, and his skill in the chase.



The Transformation

The old chief suspected magic, and sent a deputation of youths and
maidens to invite his younger daughter and her dog to visit him.  To
the surprise of the deputation, no dog was there, but an exceedingly
handsome warrior.  But alas!  Chácopee could not speak.  The party set
off for the home of the old chief, where they were warmly welcomed.

It was arranged to hold a general meeting, so that the wearer of the
white feather might show his prowess and magical powers.  First of all
they took the giant's pipe (which had belonged to Chácopee), and the
warriors smoked it one after the other.  When it came to Chácopee's
turn he signified that the giant should precede him.  The giant smoked,
but to the disappointment of the assembly nothing unusual happened.
Then Chácopee took the pipe, and as the smoke ascended it became a
flock of pigeons.  At the same moment he recovered his speech, and
recounted his strange adventures to the astounded listeners.  Their
indignation against the giant was unbounded, and the chief ordered that
he should be given the form of a dog and stoned to death by the people.

Chácopee gave a further proof of his right to wear the white feather.
Calling for a buffalo-hide, he cut it into little pieces and strewed it
on the prairie.  Next day he summoned the braves of the tribe to a
buffalo-hunt, and at no great distance they found a magnificent herd.
The pieces of hide had become buffaloes.  The {301} people greeted this
exhibition of magic art with loud acclamations, and Chácopee's
reputation was firmly established with the tribe.

Chácopee begged the chief's permission to take his wife on a visit to
his grandfather, which was readily granted, and the old man's gratitude
and delight more than repaid them for the perils of their journey.



How the Rabbit Caught the Sun

Once upon a time the Rabbit dwelt in a lodge with no one but his
grandmother to keep him company.  Every morning he went hunting very
early, but no matter how early he was he always noticed that some one
with a very long foot had been before him and had left a trail.  The
Rabbit resolved to discover the identity of the hunter who forestalled
him, so one fine morning he rose even earlier than usual, in the hope
of encountering the stranger.  But all to no purpose, for the
mysterious one had gone, leaving behind him, as was his wont, the trail
of the long foot.

This irritated the Rabbit profoundly, and he returned to the lodge to
consult with his grandmother.

"Grandmother," he grumbled, "although I rise early every morning and
set my traps in the hope of snaring game, some one is always before me
and frightens the game away.  I shall make a snare and catch him."

"Why should you do so?" replied his grandmother.  "In what way has he
harmed you?"

"It is sufficient that I hate him," replied the querulous Rabbit, and
departed.  He secreted himself among the bushes and waited for
nightfall.  He had provided himself with a stout bowstring, which he
arranged as a trap in the place where the footprints were usually to be
found.  Then he went home, but returned very early to examine his snare.

{302}

When he arrived at the spot he discovered that he had caught the
intruder, who was, indeed, no less a personage than the Sun.  He ran
home at the top of his speed to acquaint his grandmother with the news.
He did not know what he had caught, so his grandmother bade him seek
the forest once more and find out.  On returning he saw that the Sun
was in a violent passion.

"How dare you snare me!" he cried angrily.  "Come hither and untie me
at once!"

The Rabbit advanced cautiously, and circled round him in abject terror.
At last he clucked his head and, running in, cut the bowstring which
secured the Sun with his knife.  The Sun immediately soared upward, and
was quickly lost to sight.  And the reason why the hair between the
Rabbit's shoulders is yellow is that he was scorched there by the great
heat which came from the Sun-god when he loosed him.



How the Rabbit Slew the Devouring Hill

In the long ago there existed a hill of ogre-like propensities which
drew people into its mouth and devoured them.  The Rabbit's grandmother
warned him not to approach it upon any account.

But the Rabbit was rash, and the very fact that he had been warned
against the vicinity made him all the more anxious to visit it.  So he
went to the hill, and cried mockingly: "Pahe-Wathahuni, draw me into
your mouth!  Come, devour me!"

But Pahe-Wathahuni knew the Rabbit, so he took no notice of him.

Shortly afterward a hunting-party came that way, and Pahe-Wathahuni
opened his mouth, so that they took it to be a great cavern, and
entered.  The Rabbit, waiting his chance, pressed in behind them.  But
when {303} he reached Pahe-Wathahuni's stomach the monster felt that
something disagreed with him, and he vomited the Rabbit up.

[Illustration: "Once more the Rabbit entered, disguised as a man"]

Later in the day another hunting-party appeared, and Pahe-Wathahuni
again opened his capacious gullet.  The hunters entered unwittingly,
and were devoured.  And once more the Rabbit entered, disguised as a
man by magic art.  This time the cannibal hill did not eject him.
Imprisoned in the monster's entrails, he saw in the distance the
whitened bones of folk who had been devoured, the still undigested
bodies of others, and some who were yet alive.

Mocking Pahe-Wathahuni, the Rabbit said: "Why do you not eat?  You
should have eaten that very fat heart."  And, seizing his knife, he
made as if to devour it.  At this Pahe-Wathahuni set up a dismal
howling; but the Rabbit merely mocked him, and slit the heart in twain.
At this the hill split asunder, and all the folk who had been
imprisoned within it went out again, stretched their arms to the blue
sky, and hailed the Rabbit as their deliverer; for it was
Pahe-Wathahuni's heart that had been sundered.

The people gathered together and said: "Let us make the Rabbit chief."
But he mocked them and told them to be gone, that all he desired was
the heap of fat the hill had concealed within its entrails, which would
serve him and his old grandmother for food for many a day.  With that
the Rabbit went homeward, carrying the fat on his back, and he and his
grandmother rejoiced exceedingly and were never in want again.




{304}

CHAPTER VI: MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE PAWNEES


The Pawnees, or Caddoan Indians

The Caddoan stock, the principal representatives of which are the
Pawnees, are now settled in Oklahoma and North Dakota.  From the
earliest period they seem to have been cultivators of the soil, as well
as hunters, and skilled in the arts of weaving and pottery-making.
They possessed an elaborate form of religious ceremonial.  The
following myths well exemplify how strongly the Pawnee was gifted with
the religious sense.



The Sacred Bundle

A certain young man was very vain of his personal appearance, and
always wore the finest clothes and richest adornments he could procure.
Among other possessions he had a down feather of an eagle, which he
wore on his head when he went to war, and which possessed magical
properties.  He was unmarried, and cared nothing for women, though
doubtless there was more than one maiden of the village who would not
have disdained the hand of the young hunter, for he was as brave and
good-natured as he was handsome.

One day while he was out hunting with his companions--the Indians
hunted on foot in those days--he got separated from the others, and
followed some buffaloes for a considerable distance.  The animals
managed to escape, with the exception of a young cow, which had become
stranded in a mud-hole.  The youth fitted an arrow to his bow, and was
about to fire, when he saw that the buffalo had vanished and only a
young and pretty woman was in sight.  The hunter was {305} rather
perplexed, for he could not understand where the animal had gone to,
nor where the woman had come from.  However, he talked to the maiden,
and found her so agreeable that he proposed to marry her and return
with her to his tribe.  She consented to marry him, but only on
condition that they remained where they were.  To this he agreed, and
gave her as a wedding gift a string of blue and white beads he wore
round his neck.

One evening when he returned home after a day's hunting he found that
his camp was gone, and all round about were the marks of many hoofs.
No trace of his wife's body could he discover, and at last, mourning
her bitterly, he returned to his tribe.

Years elapsed, and one summer morning as he was playing the stick game
with his friends a little boy came toward him, wearing round his neck a
string of blue and white beads.

"Father," he said, "mother wants you."

The hunter was annoyed at the interruption.

"I am not your father," he replied.  "Go away."

The boy went away, and the man's companions laughed at him when they
heard him addressed as 'father,' for they knew he was a woman-hater and
unmarried.

However, the boy returned in a little while.  He was sent away again by
the angry hunter, but one of the players now suggested that he should
accompany the child and see what he wanted.  All the time the hunter
had been wondering where he had seen the beads before.  As he reflected
he saw a buffalo cow and calf running across the prairie, and suddenly
he remembered.

Taking his bow and arrows, he followed the buffaloes, whom he now
recognized as his wife and child.  A {306} long and wearisome journey
they had.  The woman was angry with her husband, and dried up every
creek they came to, so that he feared he would die of thirst, but the
strategy of his son obtained food and drink for him until they arrived
at the home of the buffaloes.  The big bulls, the leaders of the herd,
were very angry, and threatened to kill him.  First, however, they gave
him a test, telling him that if he accomplished it he should live.  Six
cows, all exactly alike, were placed in a row, and he was told that if
he could point out his wife his life would be spared.  His son helped
him secretly, and he succeeded.  The old bulls were surprised, and much
annoyed, for they had not expected him to distinguish his wife from the
other cows.  They gave him another test.  He was requested to pick out
his son from among several calves.  Again the young buffalo helped him
to perform the feat.  Not yet satisfied, they decreed that he must run
a race.  If he should win they would let him go.  They chose their
fastest runners, but on the day set for the race a thin coating of ice
covered the ground, and the buffaloes could not run at all, while the
young Indian ran swiftly and steadily, and won with ease.



The Magic Feather

The chief bulls were still angry, however, and determined that they
would kill him, even though he had passed their tests.  So they made
him sit on the ground, all the strongest and fiercest bulls round him.
Together they rushed at him, and in a little while his feather was seen
floating in the air.  The chief bulls called on the others to stop, for
they were sure that he must be trampled to pieces by this time.  But
when they drew back there sat the Indian in the centre of the circle,
with his feather in his hair.

{307}

It was, in fact, his magic feather to which he owed his escape, and a
second rush which the buffaloes made had as little effect on him.
Seeing that he was possessed of magical powers, the buffaloes made the
best of matters and welcomed him into their camp, on condition that he
would bring them gifts from his tribe.  This he agreed to do.

When the Indian returned with his wife and son to the village people
they found that there was no food to be had; but the buffalo-wife
produced some meat from under her robe, and they ate of it.  Afterward
they went back to the herd with gifts, which pleased the buffaloes
greatly.  The chief bulls, knowing that the people were in want of
food, offered to return with the hunter.  His son, who also wished to
return, arranged to accompany the herd in the form of a buffalo, while
his parents went ahead in human shape.  The father warned the people
that they must not kill his son when they went to hunt buffaloes, for,
he said, the yellow calf would always return leading more buffaloes.

By and by the child came to his father saying that he would no more
visit the camp in the form of a boy, as he was about to lead the herd
eastward.  Ere he went he told his father that when the hunters sought
the chase they should kill the yellow calf and sacrifice it to Atius
Tiráwa, tan its hide, and wrap in the skin an ear of corn and other
sacred things.  Every year they should look out for another yellow
calf, sacrifice it, and keep a piece of its fat to add to the bundle.
Then when food was scarce and famine threatened the tribe the chiefs
should gather in council and pay a friendly visit to the young buffalo,
and he would tell Tiráwa of their need, so that another yellow calf
might be sent to lead the herd to the people.

When he had said this the boy left the camp.  All {308} was done as he
had ordered.  Food became plentiful, and the father became a chief,
greatly respected by his people.  His buffalo-wife, however, he almost
forgot, and one night she vanished.  So distressed was the chief, and
so remorseful for his neglect of her, that he never recovered, but
withered away and died.  But the sacred bundle was long preserved in
the tribe as a magic charm to bring the buffalo.

Their sacred bundles were most precious to the Indians, and were
guarded religiously.  In times of famine they were opened by the
priests with much ceremony.  The above story is given to explain the
origin of that belonging to the Pawnee tribe.



The Bear-Man

There was once a boy of the Pawnee tribe who imitated the ways of a
bear; and, indeed, he much resembled that animal.  When he played with
the other boys of his village he would pretend to be a bear, and even
when he grew up he would often tell his companions laughingly that he
could turn himself into a bear whenever he liked.

His resemblance to the animal came about in this manner.  Before the
boy was born his father had gone on the war-path, and at some distance
from his home had come upon a tiny bear-cub.  The little creature
looked at him so wistfully and was so small and helpless that he could
not pass by without taking notice of it.  So he stooped and picked it
up in his arms, tied some Indian tobacco round its neck, and said: "I
know that the Great Spirit, Tiráwa, will care for you, but I cannot go
on my way without putting these things round your neck to show that I
feel kindly toward you.  I hope that the animals will take care of my
son when he is born, and help him to grow up {309} a great and wise
man."  With that he went on his way.

On his return he told his wife of his encounter with the Little Bear,
told her how he had taken it in his arms and looked at it and talked to
it.  Now there is an Indian superstition that a woman, before a child
is born, must not look fixedly at or think much about any animal, or
the infant will resemble it.  So when the warrior's boy was born he was
found to have the ways of a bear, and to become more and more like that
animal the older he grew.  The boy, quite aware of the resemblance,
often went away by himself into the forest, where he used to pray to
the Bear.



The Bear-Man Slain

On one occasion, when he was quite grown up, he accompanied a war party
of the Pawnees as their chief.  They travelled a considerable distance,
but ere they arrived at any village they fell into a trap prepared for
them by their enemies, the Sioux.  Taken completely off their guard,
the Pawnees, to the number of about forty, were slain to a man.  The
part of the country in which this incident took place was rocky and
cedar-clad and harboured many bears, and the bodies of the dead Pawnees
lay in a ravine in the path of these animals.  When they came to the
body of the Bear-man a she-bear instantly recognized it as that of
their benefactor, who had sacrificed smokes to them, made songs about
them, and done them many a good turn during his lifetime.  She called
to her companion and begged him to do something to bring the Bear-man
to life again.  The other protested that he could do nothing.
"Nevertheless," he added, "I will try.  If the sun were shining I might
succeed, but when it is dark and cloudy I am powerless."



{310}

The Resuscitation of the Bear-Man

The sun was shining but fitfully that day, however.  Long intervals of
gloom succeeded each gleam of sunlight.  But the two bears set about
collecting the remains of the Bear-man, who was indeed sadly mutilated,
and, lying down on his body, they worked over him with their magic
medicine till he showed signs of returning life.  At length he fully
regained consciousness, and, finding himself in the presence of two
bears, was at a loss to know what had happened to him.  But the animals
related how they had brought him to life, and the sight of his dead
comrades lying around him recalled what had gone before.  Gratefully
acknowledging the service the bears had done him, he accompanied them
to their den.  He was still very weak, and frequently fainted, but ere
long he recovered his strength and was as well as ever, only he had no
hair on his head, for the Sioux had scalped him.  During his sojourn
with the bears he was taught all the things that they knew--which was a
great deal, for all Indians know that the bear is one of the wisest of
animals.  However, his host begged him not to regard the wonderful
things he did as the outcome of his own strength, but to give thanks to
Tiráwa, who had made the bears and had given them their wisdom and
greatness.  Finally he told the Bear-man to return to his people, where
he would become a very great man, great in war and in wealth.  But at
the same time he must not forget the bears, nor cease to imitate them,
for on that would depend much of his success.

"I shall look after you," he concluded.  "If I die, you shall die; if I
grow old, you shall grow old along with me.  This tree"--pointing to a
cedar--"shall be a protector to you.  It never becomes old; it is
always {311} fresh and beautiful, the gift of Tiráwa.  And if a
thunderstorm should come while you are at home throw some cedar-wood on
the fire and you will be safe."

Giving him a bear-skin cap to hide his hairless scalp, the Bear then
bade him depart.

Arrived at his home, the young man was greeted with amazement, for it
was thought that he had perished with the rest of the war party.  But
when he convinced his parents that it was indeed their son who visited
them, they received him joyfully.  When he had embraced his friends and
had been congratulated by them on his return, he told them of the
bears, who were waiting outside the village.  Taking presents of Indian
tobacco, sweet-smelling clay, buffalo-meat, and beads, he returned to
them, and again talked with the he-bear.  The latter hugged him,
saying: "As my fur has touched you, you will be great; as my hands have
touched your hands, you will be fearless; and as my mouth touches your
mouth, you will be wise."  With that the bears departed.

True to his words, the animal made the Bear-man the greatest warrior of
his tribe.  He was the originator of the Bear Dance, which the Pawnees
still practise.  He lived to an advanced age, greatly honoured by his
people.




{312}

CHAPTER VII: MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE NORTHERN AND NORTH-WESTERN INDIANS


Haida Demi-Gods

There is a curious Haida story told of the origin of certain
supernatural people, who are supposed to speak through the _shamans_,
or medicine-men, and of how they got their names.

Ten brothers went out to hunt with their dogs.  While they were
climbing a steep rocky mountain a thick mist enveloped them, and they
were compelled to remain on the heights.  By and by they made a fire,
and the youngest, who was full of mischief, cast his bow in it.  When
the bow was burnt the hunters were astonished to see it on the level
ground below.  The mischievous brother thereupon announced his
intention of following his weapon, and by the same means.  Though the
others tried hard to dissuade him, he threw himself on the blazing
fire, and was quickly consumed.  His brothers then beheld him on the
plain vigorously exhorting them to follow his example.  One by one they
did so, some boldly, some timorously, but all found themselves at last
on the level ground.

As the brothers travelled on they heard a wren chirping, and they saw
that one of their number had a blue hole in his heart.  Farther on they
found a hawk's feather, which they tied in the hair of the youngest.
They came at length to a deserted village on the shores of an inlet,
and took possession of one of the huts.  For food they ate some
mussels, and having satisfied their hunger they set out to explore the
settlement.  Nothing rewarded their search but an old canoe, moss-grown
and covered with nettles.  When they had removed the weeds and scraped
off the moss they {313} repaired it, and the mischievous one who had
led them into the fire made a bark bailer for it, on which he carved
the representation of a bird.  Another, who had in his hair a bunch of
feathers, took a pole and jumped into the canoe.  The rest followed,
and the canoe slid away from the shore.  Soon they came in sight of a
village where a _shaman_ was performing.

Attracted by the noise and the glow of the fire, the warrior at the bow
stepped ashore and advanced to see what was going on.  "Now," he heard
the _shaman_ say, "the chief Supernatural-being-who-keeps-the-bow-off
is coming ashore."  The Indian was ashamed to hear himself thus
mistakenly, as he thought, referred to as a supernatural being, and
returned to the canoe.  The next one advanced to the village.  "Chief
Hawk-hole is coming ashore," said the _shaman_.  The Indian saw the
blue hole at his heart, and he also was ashamed, and returned to his
brothers.  The third was named
Supernatural-being-on-whom-the-daylight-rests, the fourth
Supernatural-being-on-the-water-on-whom-is-sunshine, the fifth
Supernatural-puffin-on-the-water, the sixth
Hawk-with-one-feather-sticking-out-of-the-water, the seventh
Wearing-clouds-around-his-neck, the eighth
Supernatural-being-with-the-big-eyes, the ninth
Supernatural-being-lying-on-his-back-in-the-canoe, and the eldest, and
last, Supernatural-being-half-of-whose-words-are-raven.  Each as he
heard his name pronounced returned to the canoe.  When they had all
heard the _shaman_, and were assembled once more, the eldest brother
said, "We have indeed become supernatural people," which was quite
true, for by burning themselves in the fire they had reached the Land
of Souls.[1]


[1] This myth would appear to explain the fancied resemblance between
smoke and the shadowy or vaporous substance of which spirits or ghosts
are supposed to be composed.



{314}

The Supernatural Sister

The ten brothers floated round the coast till they reached another
village.  Here they took on board a woman whose arms had been
accidentally burned by her husband, who mistook them for the arms of
some one embracing his wife.  The woman was severely burned and was in
great distress.  The supernatural brothers made a crack in the bottom
of the canoe and told the woman to place her hands in it.  Her wounds
were immediately healed.  They called her their sister, and seated her
in the canoe to bail out the water.  When they came to the Dj[=u], the
stream near which dwelt Fine-weather-woman,[2] the latter came and
talked to them, repeating the names which the _shaman_ had given them,
and calling their sister Supernatural-woman-who-does-the-bailing.


[2] See page 316.


"Paddle to the island you see in the distance," she added.  "The wizard
who lives there is he who paints those who are to become supernatural
beings.  Go to him and he will paint you.  Dance four nights in your
canoe and you will be finished."

They did as she bade them, and the wizard dressed them in a manner
becoming to their position as supernatural beings.  He gave them
dancing hats, dancing skirts, and puffin-beak rattles, and drew a cloud
over the outside of their canoe.



The Birth of Sîñ

The Haida of British Columbia and the Queen Charlotte Islands possess a
striking myth relating to the incarnation of the Sky-god, their
principal deity.  The daughter of a certain chief went one day to dig
in the beach.  After she had worked some time she dug {315} up a
cockle-shell.  She was about to throw it to one side when she thought
she heard a sound coming from it like that of a child crying.
Examining the shell, she found a small baby inside.  She carried it
home and wrapped it in a warm covering, and tended it so carefully that
it grew rapidly and soon began to walk.

She was sitting beside the child one day when he made a movement with
his hand as if imitating the drawing of a bowstring, so to please him
she took a copper bracelet from her arm and hammered it into the shape
of a bow, which she strung and gave him along with two arrows.  He was
delighted with the tiny weapon, and immediately set out to hunt small
game with it.  Every day he returned to his foster-mother with some
trophy of his skill.  One day it was a goose, another a woodpecker, and
another a blue jay.

One morning he awoke to find himself and his mother in a fine new
house, with gorgeous door-posts splendidly carved and illuminated in
rich reds, blues, and greens.  The carpenter who had raised this fine
building married his mother, and was very kind to him.  He took the boy
down to the sea-shore, and caused him to sit with his face looking
toward the expanse of the Pacific.  And so long as the lad looked
across the boundless blue there was fair weather.

His father used to go fishing, and one day Sîñ--for such was the boy's
name--expressed a wish to accompany him.  They obtained devil-fish for
bait, and proceeded to the fishing-ground, where the lad instructed his
father to pronounce certain magical formulæ, the result of which was
that their fishing-line was violently agitated and their canoe pulled
round an adjacent island three times.  When the disturbance stopped at
last they pulled in the line and dragged out a monster covered with
piles of halibut.

{316}

One day Sîñ went out wearing a wren-skin.  His mother beheld him rise
in stature until he soared above her and brooded like a bank of shining
clouds over the ocean.  Then he descended and donned the skin of a blue
jay.  Again he rose over the sea, and shone resplendently.  Once more
he soared upward, wearing the skin of a woodpecker, and the waves
reflected a colour as of fire.

Then he said: "Mother, I shall see you no more.  I am going away from
you.  When the sky looks like my face painted by my father there will
be no wind.  Then the fishing will be good."

His mother bade him farewell, sadly, yet with the proud knowledge that
she had nurtured a divinity.  But her sorrow increased when her husband
intimated that it was time for him to depart as well.  Her supernatural
son and husband, however, left her a portion of their power.  For when
she sits by the inlet and loosens her robe the wind scurries down
between the banks and the waves are ruffled with tempest; and the more
she loosens the garment the greater is the storm.  They call her in the
Indian tongue Fine-weather-woman.  But she dwells mostly in the winds,
and when the cold morning airs draw up from the sea landward she makes
an offering of feathers to her glorious son.  The feathers are flakes
of snow, and they serve to remind him that the world is weary for a
glimpse of his golden face.



Master-Carpenter and Southeast

A Haida myth relates how Master-carpenter, a supernatural being, went
to war with South-east (the south-east wind) at Sqa-i, the town lying
farthest south on the Queen Charlotte Islands.  The south-east wind is
particularly rude and boisterous on that coast, and it {317} was with
the intention of punishing him for his violence that Master-carpenter
challenged him.  First of all, however, he set about building a canoe
for himself.  The first one he made split, and he was obliged to throw
it away.  The second also split, notwithstanding the fact that he had
made it stouter than the other.  Another and another he built, making
each one stronger than the last, but every attempt ended in failure,
and at last, exceedingly vexed at his unskilfulness, he was on the
point of giving the task up.  He would have done so, indeed, but for
the intervention of Greatest Fool.  Hitherto Master-carpenter had been
trying to form two canoes from one log by means of wedges.  Greatest
Fool stood watching him for a time, amused at his clumsiness, and
finally showed him that he ought to use bent wedges.  And though he was
perhaps the last person from whom Master-carpenter might expect to
learn anything, the unsuccessful builder of canoes adopted the
suggestion, with the happiest results.  When at length he was satisfied
that he had made a good canoe he let it down into the water, and sailed
off in search of South-east.

[Illustration: "He seized hold of the hair"]

By and by he floated right down to his enemy's abode, and when he
judged himself to be above it he rose in the canoe and flung out a
challenge.  There was no reply.  Again he called, and this time a rapid
current began to float past him, bearing on its surface a quantity of
seaweed.  The shrewd Master-carpenter fancied he saw the matted hair of
his enemy floating among the seaweed.  He seized hold of it, and after
it came South-east.  The latter in a great passion began to call on his
nephews to help him.  The first to be summoned was Red-storm-cloud.
Immediately a deep red suffused the sky.  Then the stormy tints died
away, and the wind rose with a harsh murmur.  {318} When this wind had
reached its full strength another was summoned,
Taker-off-of-the-tree-tops.  The blast increased to a hurricane, and
the tree-tops were blown off and carried away and fell thickly about
the canoe, where Master-carpenter was making use of his magic arts to
protect himself.  Again another wind was called up, Pebble-rattler, who
set the stones and sand flying about as he shrieked in answer to the
summons.  Maker-of-the-thick-sea-mist came next, the spirit of the fog
which strikes terror into the hearts of those at sea, and he was
followed by a numerous band of other nephews, each more to be dreaded
than the last.  Finally Tidal-wave came and covered Master-carpenter
with water, so that he was obliged to give in.  Relinquishing his hold
on South-east, he managed to struggle to the shore.  It was said by
some that South-east died, but the _shamans_, who ought to know, say
that he returned to his own place.

South-east's mother was named To-morrow, and the Indians say that if
they utter that word they will have bad weather, for South-east does
not like to hear his mother's name used by any one else.



The Beaver and the Porcupine

This is the tale of a feud between the beavers and the porcupines.
Beaver had laid in a plentiful store of food, but Porcupine had failed
to do so, and one day when the former was out hunting the latter went
to his lodge and stole his provision.  When Beaver returned he found
that his food was gone, and he questioned Porcupine about the matter.

"Did you steal my food?" he asked.

"No," answered Porcupine.  "One cannot steal food from supernatural
beings, and you and I both possess supernatural powers."

{319}

Of course this was mere bluff on the part of Porcupine, and it in
nowise deceived his companion.

"You stole my food!" said Beaver angrily, and he tried to seize
Porcupine with his teeth.  But the sharp spines of the latter
disconcerted him, though he was not easily repulsed.  For a time he
fought furiously, but at length he was forced to retreat, with his face
covered with quills from his spiny adversary.  His friends and
relatives greeted him sympathetically.  His father summoned all the
Beaver People, told them of the injuries his son had received, and bade
them avenge the honour of their clan.  The people at once repaired to
the abode of Porcupine, who, from the fancied security of his lodge,
heaped insults and abuse on them.  The indignant Beaver People pulled
his house down about his ears, seized him, and carried him, in spite of
his threats and protests, to a desolate island, where they left him to
starve.

It seemed to Porcupine that he had not long to live.  Nothing grew on
the island save two trees, neither of which was edible, and there was
no other food within reach.  He called loudly to his friends to come to
his assistance, but there was no answer.  In vain he summoned all the
animals who were related to him.  His cries never reached them.

When he had quite given up hope he fancied he heard something whisper
to him: "Call upon Cold-weather, call upon North-wind."  At first he
did not understand, but thought his imagination must be playing tricks
with him.  Again the voice whispered to him: "Sing North songs, and you
will be saved."  Wondering much, but with hope rising in his breast,
Porcupine did as he was bidden, and raised his voice in the North
songs.  "Let the cold weather come," he sang, "let the water be smooth."



{320}

The Finding of Porcupine

After a time the weather became very cold, a strong wind blew from the
north, and the water became smooth with a layer of ice.  When it was
sufficiently frozen to bear the weight of the Porcupine People they
crossed over to the island in search of their brother.  They were
greatly rejoiced to see him, but found him so weak that he could hardly
walk, and he had to be carried to his father's lodge.

When they wanted to know why Beaver had treated him so cruelly he
replied that it was because he had eaten Beaver's food.  The Porcupine
People, thinking this a small excuse, were greatly incensed against the
beavers, and immediately declared war on them.  But the latter were
generally victorious, and the war by and by came to an inglorious end
for the porcupines.  The spiny tribe still, however, imagined that they
had a grievance against Beaver, and plotted to take his life.  They
carried him to the top of a tall tree, thinking that as the beavers
could not climb he would be in the same plight as their brother had
been on the island.  But by the simple expedient of eating the tree
downward from the top Beaver was enabled to return to his home.



The Devil-Fish's Daughter

A Haida Indian was sailing in his canoe with his two children and his
wife at low tide.  They had been paddling for some time, when they came
to a place where some devil-fish stones lay, and they could discern the
devil-fish's tracks and see where its food was lying piled up.  The
man, who was a _shaman_, landed upon the rocks with the intention of
finding and killing the devil-fish, but while he was searching {321}
for it the monster suddenly emerged from its hole and dragged him
through the aperture into its den.  His wife and children, believing
him to be dead, paddled away.

The monster which had seized the man was a female devil-fish, and she
dragged him far below into the precincts of the town where dwelt her
father, the devil-fish chief, and there he married the devil-fish which
had captured him.  Many years passed, and at length the man became
home-sick and greatly desired to see his wife and family once more.  He
begged the chief to let him go, and after some demur his request was
granted.

The _shaman_ departed in one canoe, and his wife, the devil-fish's
daughter, in another.  The canoes were magical, and sped along of
themselves.  Soon they reached his father's town by the aid of the
enchanted craft.  He had brought much wealth with him from the
devil-fish kingdom, and with this he traded and became a great chief.
Then his children found him and came to him.  They were grown up, and
to celebrate his home-coming he held a great feast.  Five great feasts
he held, one after another, and at each of them his children and his
human wife were present.

But the devil-fish wife began to pine for the sea-life.  One day while
her husband and she sat in his father's house he began to melt.  At the
same time the devil-fish wife disappeared betwixt the planks of the
flooring.  Her husband then assumed the devil-fish form, and a second
soft, slimy body followed the first through the planks.  The devil-fish
wife and her husband had returned to her father's realm.

This myth, of course, approximates to those of the seal-wives who
escape from their mortal husbands, and the swan- and other bird-brides
who, pining for their {322} natural environment, take wing one fine day
and leave their earth-mates.



Chinook Tales

The Chinooks formerly dwelt on Columbia River, from the Dalles to its
mouth, and on the Lower Willamette.  With the exception of a few
individuals, they are now extinct, but their myths have been
successfully collected and preserved.  They were the natives of the
north-west coast, cunning in bargaining, yet dwelling on a communal
plan.  Their chief physical characteristic was a high and narrow
forehead artificially flattened.  Concerning this people Professor
Daniel Wilson says:

"The Chinooks are among the most remarkable of the flat-headed Indians,
and carry the process of cranial distortion to the greatest excess.
They are in some respects a superior race, making slaves of other
tribes, and evincing considerable skill in such arts as are required in
their wild forest and coast life.  Their chief war-implements are bows
and arrows, the former made from the yew-tree, and the latter feathered
and pointed with bone.  Their canoes are hollowed out of the trunk of
the cedar-tree, which attains to a great size in that region, and are
frequently ornamented with much taste and skill.  In such a canoe the
dead Chinook chief is deposited, surrounded with all the requisites for
war, or the favourite occupations of life: presenting a correspondence
in his sepulchral rites to the ancient pagan viking, who, as appears
alike from the contents of the Scandinavian _Skibssaetninger_ and from
the narratives of the sagas, was interred or consumed in his
war-galley, and the form of that favourite scene of ocean triumphs
perpetuated in the earth-work that covered his ashes."



{323}

The Story of Blue Jay and Ioi

The Chinooks tell many stories of Blue Jay, the tricky, mischievous
totem-bird, and among these tales there are three which are concerned
with his sister Ioi.  Blue Jay, whose disposition resembled that of the
bird he symbolized, delighted in tormenting Ioi by deliberately
misinterpreting her commands, and by repeating at every opportunity his
favourite phrase, "Ioi is always telling lies."

In the first of the trilogy Ioi requested her brother to take a wife
from among the dead, to help her with her work in house and field.  To
this Blue Jay readily assented, and he took for his spouse a
chieftain's daughter who had been recently buried.  But Ioi's request
that his wife should be an old one he disregarded.

"Take her to the Land of the Supernatural People," said Ioi, when she
had seen her brother's bride, "and they will restore her to life."

Blue Jay set out on his errand, and after a day's journey arrived with
his wife at a town inhabited by the Supernatural Folk.

"How long has she been dead?" they asked him, when he stated his
purpose in visiting them.

"A day," he replied.

The Supernatural People shook their heads.

"We cannot help you," said they.  "You must travel to the town where
people are restored who have been dead for a day."

Blue Jay obediently resumed his journey, and at the end of another day
he reached the town to which he had been directed, and told its
inhabitants why he had come.

"How long has she been dead?" they asked.

{324}

"Two days," said he.

"Then we can do nothing," replied the Supernatural Folk, "for we can
only restore people who have been dead one day.  However, you can go to
the town where those are brought to life who have been dead two days."

Another day's journey brought Blue Jay and his wife to the third town.
Again he found himself a day late, and was directed to a fourth town,
and from that one to yet another.  At the fifth town, however, the
Supernatural People took pity on him, and recovered his wife from
death.  Blue Jay they made a chieftain among them, and conferred many
honours upon him.

After a time he got tired of living in state among the Supernatural
People, and returned home.

When he was once more among his kindred his young brother-in-law, the
chief's son, learnt that his sister was alive and married to Blue Jay.

Hastily the boy carried the news to his father, the old chief, who sent
a message to Blue Jay demanding his hair in payment for his wife.  The
messenger received no reply, and the angry chief gathered his people
round him and led them to Blue Jay's lodge.  On their approach Blue Jay
turned himself into a bird and flew away, while his wife swooned.  All
the efforts of her kindred could not bring the woman round, and they
called on her husband to return.  It was in vain, however: Blue Jay
would not come back, and his wife journeyed finally to the Land of
Souls.



The Marriage of Ioi

The second portion of the trilogy relates how the Ghost-people, setting
out one night from the Shadowland to buy a wife, took Ioi, the sister
of Blue Jay, who disappeared before morning.  After a year had elapsed
{325} her brother decided to go in search of her.  But though he
inquired the way to the Ghost-country from all manner of birds and
beasts, he got a satisfactory answer from none of them, and would never
have arrived at his destination at all had he not been carried thither
at last by supernatural means.

In the Ghost-country he found his sister, surrounded by heaps of bones,
which she introduced to him as his relatives by marriage.  At certain
times these relics would attain a semblance of humanity, but instantly
became bones again at the sound of a loud voice.



A Fishing Expedition in Shadow-land

At his sister's request Blue Jay went fishing with his young
brother-in-law.  Finding that when he spoke in a loud tone he caused
the boy to become a heap of bones in the canoe, Blue Jay took a
malicious pleasure in reducing him to that condition.  It was just the
sort of trick he loved to play.

[Illustration: A Fishing Expedition in Shadow-land]

The fish they caught were nothing more than leaves and branches, and
Blue Jay, in disgust, threw them back into the water.  But, to his
chagrin, when he returned his sister told him that they were really
fish, and that he ought not to have flung them away.  However, he
consoled himself with the reflection, "Ioi is always telling lies."

Besides teasing Ioi, he played many pranks on the inoffensive Ghosts.
Sometimes he would put the skull of a child on the shoulders of a man,
and vice versa, and take a mischievous delight in the ludicrous result
when they came 'alive.'

On one occasion, when the prairies were on fire, Ioi bade her brother
extinguish the flames.  For this purpose she gave him five buckets of
water, warning him that he must not pour it on the burning prairies
{326} until he came to the fourth of them.  Blue Jay disobeyed her, as
he was wont to do, and with dire results, for when he reached the fifth
prairie he found he had no water to pour on it.  While endeavouring to
beat out the flames he was so seriously burned that he died, and
returned to the Ghosts as one of themselves, but without losing his
mischievous propensities.



Blue Jay and Ioi Go Visiting

The third tale of the trilogy tells how Blue Jay and Ioi went to visit
their friends.  The Magpie was the first to receive the visitors, and
by means of magic he provided food for them.  Putting a salmon egg into
a kettle of boiling water, he placed the kettle on the fire, and
immediately it was full of salmon eggs, so that when they had eaten
enough Blue Jay and Ioi were able to carry a number away.

On the following day the Magpie called for the kettle they had
borrowed.  Blue Jay tried to entertain his visitor in the same magical
fashion as the latter had entertained him.  But his attempt was so
ludicrous that the Magpie could not help laughing at him.

The pair's next visit was to the Duck, who obtained food for them by
making her children dive for trout.  Again there was twice as much as
they could eat, and Blue Jay and Ioi carried away the remainder on a
mat.  During the return visit of the Duck Blue Jay tried to emulate
this feat also, using Ioi's children instead of the ducklings.  His
attempt was again unsuccessful.

The two visited in turn the Black Bear, the Beaver, and the Seal, all
of whom similarly supplied refreshment for them in a magical manner.
But Blue Jay's attempts at imitating these creatures were futile.

{327}

A visit to the Shadows concluded the round, and the adventurers
returned home.



The Heaven-sought Bride

A brother and sister left destitute by the death of their father, a
chief of the Chinooks, were forced to go hunting sea-otters every day
to obtain a livelihood.  As they hunted the mists came down, and with
them the Supernatural People, one of whom became enamoured of the girl.
The ghostly husband sent his wife gifts of stranded timber and
whale-meat, so that when her son was born she might want for nothing.
The mischievous Blue Jay, hearing of the abundance of meat in the young
chief's house, apprised his own chief of the circumstance and brought
all the village to share it.  The Supernatural People, annoyed that
their bounty should be thus misused, abducted the young chief's sister,
along with her child.

The woman's aunt, the Crow, gathered many potentilla and other roots,
placed them in her canoe, and put out to sea.  She came to the country
of the Supernatural Folk, and when they saw her approaching they all
ran down to the beach to greet her.  They greedily snatched at the
roots she had brought with her and devoured them, eating the most
succulent and throwing away those that were not so much to their taste.
The Crow soon found her niece, who laughed at her for bringing such
fare to such a land.

"Do you think they are men that you bring them potentilla roots?" she
cried.  "They only eat certain of the roots you have fetched hither
because they have magical properties.  The next time you come bring the
sort of roots they seized upon--and you can also bring a basket of
potentilla roots for me."



{328}

The Whale-catcher

She then called upon a dog which was gambolling close at hand.

"Take this dog," she said to the Crow.  "It belongs to your
grand-nephew.  When you come near the shore say, 'Catch a whale, dog,'
and see what happens."

The Crow bade farewell to her niece, and, re-entering her canoe,
steered for the world of mortals again.  The dog lay quietly in the
stern.  When about half-way across the Crow recollected her niece's
advice.

"Catch a whale, good dog," she cried encouragingly.

The dog arose, and at that moment a whale crossed the path of the
canoe.  The dog sank his teeth in the great fish, and the frail bark
rocked violently.

"Hold him fast, good fellow!" cried the Crow excitedly.  "Hold him
fast!"  But the canoe tossed so dangerously and shipped so much water
that in a great fright she bade the dog let go.  He did so, and lay
down in the stern again.

The Crow arrived at the world of men once more, and after landing
turned round to call her wonderful dog ashore.  But no trace of him was
visible.  He had disappeared.

[Illustration: "The mists came down, and with them the Supernatural
People"]

Once more the Crow gathered many roots and plants, taking especial care
to collect a good supply of the sort the Supernatural People were fond
of, and gathering only a small basket of potentilla.  For the second
time she crossed over to the land of the Divine Beings, who, on espying
her succulent cargo, devoured it at once.  She carried the potentilla
roots to her niece, and when in her house noticed the dog she had
received and lost.  Her niece informed her that she should not have
ordered the animal to seize {329} the whale in mid-ocean, but should
have waited until she was nearer the land.  The Crow departed once
more, taking the dog with her.

When they approached the land of men the Crow called to the animal to
catch a whale, but it stirred not.  Then the Crow poured some water
over him, and he started up and killed a large whale, the carcass of
which drifted on to the beach, when the people came down and cut it up
for food.



The Chinooks Visit the Supernaturals

Some time after this the young chief expressed a desire to go to see
his sister, so his people manned a large canoe and set forth.  The
chief of the Supernatural People, observing their approach, warned his
subjects that the mortals might do something to their disadvantage, and
by means of magic he covered the sea with ice.  The air became
exceedingly cold, so cold, indeed, that Blue Jay, who had accompanied
the young chief, leapt into the water.  At this one of the Supernatural
People on shore laughed and cried out: "Ha, ha!  Blue Jay has drowned
himself!"  At this taunt the young chief in the canoe arose, and,
taking the ice which covered the surface of the sea, cast it away.  At
sight of such power the Supernatural Folk became much alarmed.

The chief and his followers now came to land, and, walking up the
beach, found it deserted.  Not a single Supernatural Person was to be
seen.  Espying the chief's house, however, the Chinooks approached it.
It was guarded by sea-lions, one at each side of the door.  The chief
cautiously warned his people against attempting an entrance.  But the
irrepressible Blue Jay tried to leap past the sea-lions, and got
severely bitten for his pains.  Howling dismally, he rushed seaward.
{330} The young chief, annoyed that the Divine Beings should have cause
for laughter against any of his people, now darted forward, seized the
monsters one in each hand, and hurled them far away.

At this second feat the Supernatural Folk set up a hubbub of rage and
dismay, which was turned to loud laughter when Blue Jay claimed the
deed as his, loudly chanting his own praises.  The Chinooks, taking
heart, entered the lodge.  But the Supernatural Folk vanished, leaving
only the chief's sister behind.

The Chinooks had had nothing to eat since leaving their own country,
and Blue Jay, who, like most worthless folk, was always hungry,
complained loudly that he was famished.  His brother Robin sullenly
ordered him to be silent.  Suddenly a Supernatural Being with a long
beak emerged from under the bed, and, splitting wood with his beak,
kindled a large fire.

"Robin," said Blue Jay, "that is the spirit of our great-grandfather's
slave."

Soon the house was full of smoke, and a voice was heard calling out for
the Smoke-eater.  An individual with an enormous belly made his
appearance, and swallowed all the smoke, so that the house became
light.  A small dish was brought, containing only one piece of meat.
But the mysterious voice called for the Whale-meat-cutter, who
appeared, and sliced the fragment so with his beak that the plate was
full to overflowing.  Then he blew upon it, and it became a large canoe
full of meat, which the Chinooks finished, much to the amazement of the
Supernatural People.



The Four Tests

After a while a messenger from the Divine People approached and asked
to be told whether the Indians would accept a challenge to a diving
contest, the {331} defeated to lose their lives.  This was agreed to,
and Blue Jay was selected to dive for the Chinooks.  He had taken the
precaution of placing some bushes in his canoe, which he threw into the
water before diving with his opponent, a woman.  When his breath gave
out he came to the surface, concealing his head under the floating
bushes.  Then he sank into the water again, and cried to his opponent:
"Where are you?"  "Here I am," she replied.  Four times did Blue Jay
cunningly come up for breath, hidden beneath the bushes, and on diving
for the last time he found the woman against whom he was pitted lying
at the bottom of the sea, almost unconscious.  He took his club, which
he had concealed beneath his blanket, and struck her on the nape of the
neck.  Then he rose and claimed the victory.

The Supernatural People, much chagrined, suggested a climbing contest,
to which Blue Jay readily agreed, but he was warned that if he was
beaten he would be dashed to pieces.  He placed upright a piece of ice
which was so high that it reached the clouds.  The Supernaturals
matched a chipmunk against him.  When the competitors had reached a
certain height Blue Jay grew tired, so he used his wings and flew
upward.  The chipmunk kept her eyes closed and did not notice the
deception.  Blue Jay hit her on the neck with his club, so that she
fell, and Blue Jay was adjudged the winner.

A shooting match was next proposed by the exasperated Supernaturals, in
which the persons engaged were to shoot at one another.  This the
Chinooks won by taking a beaver as their champion and tying a millstone
in front of him.  A sweating match was also won by the Chinooks taking
ice with them into the superheated caves where the contest took place.

As a last effort to shame the Chinooks the Divine {332} People
suggested that the two chiefs should engage in a whale-catching
contest.  This was agreed to, and the Supernatural chief's wife, after
warning them, placed Blue Jay and Robin under her armpits to keep them
quiet.  As they descended to the beach, she said to her brother: "Four
whales will pass you, but do not harpoon any until the fifth appears."

Robin did as he was bid, but the woman had a hard time in keeping the
curious Blue Jay hidden.  The four whales passed, but the young chief
took no heed.  Then the fifth slid by.  He thrust his harpoon deep into
its blubber, and cast it ashore.  The Supernatural chief was
unsuccessful in his attempts, and so the Chinooks won again.  On the
result being known Blue Jay could no longer be restrained, and, falling
from under the woman's arm, he was drowned.

On setting out for home the chief was advised to tie Robin's blanket to
a magical rope with which his sister provided him.  When the Chinooks
were in the middle of the ocean the Supernatural People raised a great
storm to encompass their destruction.  But the charm the chief's sister
had given them proved efficacious, and they reached their own land in
safety.

Blue Jay's death may be regarded as merely figurative, for he appears
in many subsequent Chinook tales.

This myth is undoubtedly one of the class which relates to the
'harrying of Hades.'  See the remarks at the conclusion of the myth of
"The Thunderer's Son-in-law."



The Thunderer's Son-in-Law

There were five brothers who lived together.  Four of them were
accustomed to spend their days in hunting elk, while the fifth, who was
the youngest, was always compelled to remain at the camp.  They lived
amicably {333} enough, save that the youngest grumbled at never being
able to go to the hunting.  One day as the youth sat brooding over his
grievance the silence was suddenly broken by a hideous din which
appeared to come from the region of the doorway.  He was at a loss to
understand the cause of it, and anxiously wished for the return of his
brothers.  Suddenly there appeared before him a man of gigantic size,
strangely apparelled.  He demanded food, and the frightened boy,
remembering that they were well provided, hastily arose to satisfy the
stranger's desires.  He brought out an ample supply of meat and tallow,
but was astonished to find that the strange being lustily called for
more.  The youth, thoroughly terrified, hastened to gratify the
monster's craving, and the giant ate steadily on, hour after hour,
until the brothers returned at the end of the day to discover the
glutton devouring the fruits of their hunting.  The monster appeared
not to heed the brothers, but, anxious to satisfy his enormous
appetite, he still ate.  A fresh supply of meat had been secured, and
this the brothers placed before him.  He continued to gorge himself
throughout the night and well into the next day.  At last the meat was
at an end, and the brothers became alarmed.  What next would the
insatiable creature demand?  They approached him and told him that only
skins remained, but he replied: "What shall I eat, grandchildren, now
that there are only skins and you?"  They did not appear to understand
him until they had questioned him several times.  On realizing that the
glutton meant to devour them, they determined to escape, so, boiling
the skins, which they set before him, they fled through a hole in the
hut.  Outside they placed a dog, and told him to send the giant in the
direction opposite to that which they had taken.  Night fell, and the
monster {334} slept, while the dog kept a weary vigil over the exit by
which his masters had escaped.  Day dawned as the giant crept through
the gap.  He asked the dog: "Which way went your masters?"  The animal
replied by setting his head in the direction opposite to the true one.
The giant observed the sign, and went on the road the dog indicated.
After proceeding for some distance he found that the young men could
not have gone that way, so he returned to the hut, to find the dog
still there.  Again he questioned the animal, who merely repeated his
previous movement.  The monster once more set out, but, unable to
discover the fugitives, he again returned.  Three times he repeated
these fruitless journeys.  At last he succeeded in getting on to the
right path, and shortly came within sight of the brothers.



The Thunderer

Immediately they saw their pursuer they endeavoured to outrun him, but
without avail.  The giant gained ground, and soon overtook the eldest,
whom he slew.  He then made for the others, and slew three more.  The
youngest only was left.  The lad hurried on until he came to a river,
on the bank of which was a man fishing, whose name was the Thunderer.
This person he implored to convey him to the opposite side.  After much
hesitation the Thunderer agreed, and, rowing him over the stream, he
commanded the fugitive to go to his hut, and returned to his nets.  By
this time the monster had gained the river, and on seeing the fisherman
he asked to be ferried over also.  The Thunderer at first refused, but
was eventually persuaded by the offer of a piece of twine.  Afraid that
the boat might capsize, the Thunderer stretched himself across the
river, and commanded the giant to walk over his body.  {335} The
monster, unaware of treachery, readily responded, but no sooner had he
reached the Thunderer's legs than the latter set them apart, thus
precipitating him into the water.  His hat also fell in after him.  The
Thunderer now gained his feet, and watched the giant drifting
helplessly down the stream.  He did not wish to save the monster, for
he believed him to be an evil spirit.  "Okulam [Noise of Surge] will be
your name," he said.  "Only when the storm is raging will you be heard.
When the weather is very bad your hat will also be heard."  As he
concluded this prophecy the giant disappeared from sight.  The
Thunderer then gathered his nets together and went to his hut.  The
youth whom he had saved married his daughter, and continued to remain
with him.  One day the youth desired to watch his father-in-law fishing
for whales.  His wife warned him against doing so.  He paid no heed to
her warning, however, but went to the sea, where he saw the Thunderer
struggling with a whale.  His father-in-law flew into a great rage, and
a furious storm arose.  The Thunderer looked toward the land, and
immediately the storm increased in fury, with thunder and lightning, so
he threw down his dip-net and departed for home, followed by his
son-in-law.



Storm-Raising

On reaching the house the young man gathered some pieces of coal and
climbed a mountain.  There he blackened his face, and a high wind arose
which carried everything before it.  His father-in-law's house was
blown away, and the Thunderer, seeing that it was hopeless to attempt
to save anything from the wreck, commanded his daughter to seek for her
husband.  She hurried up the mountain-side, where she found him, and
told him he was the cause of all the destruction, {336} but concluded:
"Father says you may look at him to-morrow when he catches whales."  He
followed his wife back to the valley and washed his face.  Immediately
he had done so the storm abated.  Going up to his father-in-law, he
said: "To-morrow I shall go down to the beach, and you shall see me
catching whales."  Then the Thunderer and he rebuilt their hut.  On the
following morning they went down to the sea-shore together.  The young
man cast his net into the sea.  After a little while a whale entered
the net.  The youth quickly pulled the net toward him, reached for the
whale, and flung it at the feet of his father-in-law.  Thunderer was
amazed, and called to him: "Ho, ho, my son-in-law, you are just as I
was when I was a young man."



The Beast Comrades

Soon after this the Thunderer's daughter gave birth to two sons.  The
Thunderer sent the young man into the woods to capture two wolves with
which he used to play when a boy.  The son-in-law soon returned with
the animals, and threw them at the feet of the Thunderer.  But they
severely mauled the old man, who, seeing that they had forgotten him,
cried piteously to his son-in-law to carry them back to the forest.
Shortly after this he again despatched his son-in-law in search of two
bears with which he had also been friendly.  The young man obeyed.  But
the bears treated the old man as the wolves had done, so he likewise
returned them to their native haunts.  For the third time the
son-in-law went into the forest, for two grizzly bears, and when he saw
them he called: "I come to carry you away."  The bears instantly came
toward him and suffered themselves to be carried before the Thunderer.
But they also had forgotten their former {337} playmate, and
immediately set upon him, so that the young man was compelled to return
with them to the forest.  Thunderer had scarcely recovered from this
last attack when he sent his son-in-law into the same forest after two
panthers, which in his younger days had also been his companions.
Without the slightest hesitation the young man arose and went into the
wood, where he met the panthers.  He called to them in the same gentle
manner: "I come to take you away."  The animals seemed to understand,
and followed him.  But Thunderer was dismayed when he saw how wild they
had grown.  They would not allow him to tame them, and after suffering
their attack he sent them back to the forest.  This ended the
Thunderer's exciting pastime.



The Tests

The Thunderer then sent his son-in-law to split a log of wood.  When
this had been done he put the young man's strength to the test by
placing him within the hollow trunk and closing the wood around him.
But the young man succeeded in freeing himself, and set off for the hut
carrying the log with him.  On reaching his home he dropped the wood
before the door, and caused the earth to quake.  The Thunderer jumped
up in alarm and ran to the door rejoicing in the might of his
son-in-law.  "Oh, my son-in-law," he cried, "you are just as I was when
I was young!"  The two continued to live together and the young man's
sons grew into manhood.  One day the Thunderer approached his
son-in-law and said: "Go to the Supernatural Folk and bring me their
hoops."



The Spirit-land

The son-in-law obeyed.  He travelled for a long distance, and
eventually reached the land of the spirits.  {338} They stood in a
circle, and he saw that they played with a large hoop.  He then
remembered that he must secure the hoop.  But he was afraid to approach
them, as the light of the place dazzled him.  He waited until darkness
had set in, and, leaving his hiding-place, dashed through the circle
and secured the hoop.  The Supernatural People pursued him with
torches.  Just as this was taking place his wife remembered him.  She
called to her children: "Now whip your grandfather."  This they did,
while the old man wept.  This chastisement brought rain upon the
Supernatural People and extinguished their torches.  They dared not
pursue the young man farther, so they returned to their country.  The
adventurer was now left in peace to continue his homeward journey.  He
handed over the hoop to Thunderer, who now sent him to capture the
targets of the Spirit Folk.  The son-in-law gladly undertook the
journey, and again entered the bright region of Spirit-land.  He found
the Supernaturals shooting at the targets, and when night had fallen he
picked them up and ran away.  The spirits lit their torches and
followed him.  His wife once more was reminded of her absent husband,
and commanded her sons to repeat the punishment upon their grandfather.
The rain recommenced and the torches of the pursuers were destroyed.
The young man returned in peace to his dwelling and placed the targets
before his father-in-law.  He had not been long home before a restless
spirit took possession of him.  He longed for further adventure, and at
last decided to set out in quest of it.  Arraying himself in his fine
necklaces of teeth and strapping around his waist two quivers of
arrows, he bade farewell to his wife and sons.  He journeyed until he
reached a large village, which consisted of five rows of houses.  These
{339} he carefully inspected.  The last house was very small, but he
entered it.  He was met by two old women, who were known as the Mice.
Immediately they saw him they muttered to each other: "Oh, now Blue Jay
will make another chief unhappy."  On the young man's arrival in the
village Blue Jay became conscious of a stranger in the midst of the
people.  He straightway betook himself to the house of the Mice.  He
then returned to his chief, saying that a strange chief wished to hold
a shooting match.  Blue Jay's chief seemed quite willing to enter into
the contest with the stranger, so he sent Blue Jay back to the house to
inform the young chief of his willingness.  Blue Jay led the stranger
down to the beach where the targets stood.  Soon the old chief arrived
and the shooting match began.  But the adventurer's skill could not
compare with the old chief's, who finally defeated him.  Blue Jay now
saw his opportunity.  He sprang upon the stranger, tore out his hair,
cut off his head, and severed the limbs from his body.  He carried the
pieces to the house and hung up the head.  At nightfall the Mice fed
the head and managed to keep it alive.  This process of feeding went on
for many months, the old women never tiring of their task.  A full year
had passed, and the unfortunate adventurer's sons began to fear for his
safety.  They decided to search for him.  Arming themselves, they made
their way to the large village in which their father was imprisoned.
They entered the house of the Mice, and there saw the two old women,
who asked: "Oh, chiefs, where did you come from?"

"We search for our father," they replied.  But the old women warned
them of Blue Jay's treachery, and advised them to depart.  The young
men would not heed the advice, and succeeded in drawing from the {340}
women the story of their father's fate.  When they heard that Blue Jay
had used their father so badly they were very angry.  Blue Jay,
meanwhile, had become aware of the arrival of two strangers, and he
went to the small house to smell them out.  There he espied the youths,
and immediately returned to inform his chief of their presence in the
village.  The chief then sent him back to invite the strangers to a
shooting match, but they ignored the invitation.  Three times Blue Jay
made the journey, and at last the youths looked upon him, whereupon his
hair immediately took fire.  He ran back to his chief and said: "Oh,
these strangers are more powerful than we are.  They looked at me and
my hair caught fire."  The chief was amazed, and went down to the beach
to await the arrival of the strangers.  When the young men saw the
targets they would not shoot, and declared that they were bad.  They
immediately drew them out of the ground and replaced them by their own,
the brilliance of which dazzled the sight of their opponent.  The chief
was defeated.  He lost his life and the people were subdued.  The
youths then cast Blue Jay into the river, saying as they did so: "Green
Sturgeon shall be your name.  Henceforth you shall not make chiefs
miserable.  You shall sing 'Watsetsetsetsetse,' and it shall be a bad
omen."  This performance over, they restored their father from his
death-slumber, and spoke kindly to the Mice, saying: "Oh, you pitiful
ones, you shall eat everything that is good.  You shall eat berries."
Then, after establishing order in this strange land, they returned to
their home, accompanied by their father.

This curious story is an example of what is known in mythology as the
'harrying of Hades.'  The land of the supernatural or subterranean
beings always {341} exercises a profound fascination over the minds of
barbarians, and such tales are invented by their story-tellers for the
purpose of minimizing the terrors which await them when they themselves
must enter the strange country by death.  The incident of the glutton
would seem to show that two tales have been amalgamated, a not uncommon
circumstance in primitive story-telling.  In these stories the evil or
supernatural power is invariably defeated, and it is touching to
observe the child-like attempts of the savage to quench the dread of
death, common to all mankind, by creating amusement at the ludicrous
appearance of the dreadful beings whom he fears.  The sons of the
Thunderer are, of course, hero-gods whose effulgence confounds the
powers of darkness, and to some extent they resemble the Hun-Apu and
Xbalanque of the Central American _Popol Vuh_, who travel to the dark
kingdom of Xibalba to rescue their father and uncle, and succeed in
overthrowing its hideous denizens.[3]


[3] See the author's _Myths of Mexico and Peru_, in this series, p. 220.



The Myth of Stik[)u]a

[Transcriber's note: the "[)u]" sequence represents the Unicode u-breve
character.]

As an example of a myth as taken from the lips of the Indian by the
collector we append to this series of Chinook tales the story of
Stik[)u]a in all its pristine ingenuousness.  Such a tale well
exemplifies the difference of outlook between the aboriginal and the
civilized mind, and exhibits the many difficulties with which
collectors of such myths have to contend.

Many people were living at Nakotat.  Now their chief died.  He had
[left] a son who was almost grown up.  It was winter and the people
were hungry.  They had only mussels and roots to eat.  Once upon a time
a hunter said: "Make yourselves ready."  All the men made themselves
ready, and went seaward in two canoes.  {342} Then the hunter speared a
sea-lion.  It jumped and drifted on the water [dead].  They hauled it
ashore.  Blue Jay said: "Let us boil it here."  They made a fire and
singed it.  They cut it and boiled it.  Blue Jay said: "Let us eat it
here, let us eat all of it."  Then the people ate.  Raven tried to hide
a piece of meat in his mat, and carried it to the canoe.  [But] Blue
Jay had already seen it; he ran [after him] took it and threw it into
the fire.  He burned it.  Then they went home.  They gathered large and
small mussels.  In the evening they came home.  Then Blue Jay shouted:
"Stik[)u]a, fetch your mussels."  Stik[)u]a was the name of Blue Jay's
wife.  Then noise of many feet [was heard], and Stik[)u]a and the other
women came running down to the beach.  They went to fetch mussels.  The
women came to the beach and carried the mussels to the house.  Raven
took care of the chief's son.  The boy said: "To-morrow I shall
accompany you."  Blue Jay said to him: "What do you want to do?  The
waves will carry you away, you will drift away; even I almost drifted
away."

The next morning they made themselves ready.  They went into the canoe,
and the boy came down to the beach.  He wanted to accompany them, and
held on to the canoe.  "Go to the house, go to the house," said Blue
Jay.  The boy went up, but he was very sad.  Then Blue Jay said: "Let
us leave him."  The people began to paddle.  Then they arrived at the
sea-lion island.  The hunter went ashore and speared a sea-lion.  It
jumped and drifted on the water [dead].  They hauled it ashore and
pulled it up from the water.  Blue Jay said: "Let us eat it here; let
us eat all of it, else our chief's son would always want to come here."
They singed it, carved it, and boiled it there.  When it was done they
ate it all.  Raven {343} tried to hide a piece in his hair, but Blue
Jay took it out immediately and burned it.  In the evening they
gathered large and small mussels, and then they went home.  When they
approached the beach Blue Jay shouted: "Stik[)u]a, fetch your mussels!"
Then noise of many feet [was heard].  Stik[)u]a and her children and
all the other women came running down to the beach and carried the
mussels up to the house.  Blue Jay had told all those people: "Don't
tell our chief's son, else he will want to accompany us."  In the
evening the boy said: "To-morrow I shall accompany you."  But Blue Jay
said: "What do you want to do?  The waves will carry you away."  But
the boy replied: "I must go."

In the morning they made themselves ready for the third time.  The boy
went down to the beach and took hold of the canoe.  But Blue Jay pushed
him aside and said: "What do you want here?  Go to the house."  The boy
cried and went up to the house.  [When he turned back] Blue Jay said:
"Now paddle away.  We will leave him."  The people began to paddle, and
soon they reached the sea-lion island.  The hunter went ashore and
speared one large sea-lion.  It jumped and drifted on the water [dead].
They hauled it toward the shore, landed, pulled it up and singed it.
They finished singeing it.  Then they carved it and boiled it, and when
it was done they began to eat.  Blue Jay said: "Let us eat it all.
Nobody must speak about it, else our chief's son will always want to
accompany us."  A little [meat] was still left when they had eaten
enough.  Raven tried to take a piece with him.  He tied it to his leg
and said his leg was broken.  Blue Jay burned all that was left over.
Then he said to Raven: "Let me see your leg."  He jumped at it, untied
it, and found the piece {344} of meat at Raven's leg.  He took it and
burned it.  In the evening they gathered large and small mussels.  Then
they went home.  When they were near home Blue Jay shouted: "Stik[)u]a,
fetch your mussels!"  Then noise of many feet [was heard], and
Stik[)u]a [her children and the other women] came down to the beach and
carried the mussels up to the house.  The [women and children] and the
chief's son ate the mussels all night.  Then that boy said: "To-morrow
I shall accompany you."  Blue Jay said: "What do you want to do?  You
will drift away.  If I had not taken hold of the canoe I should have
drifted away twice."

On the next morning they made themselves ready for the fourth time.
The boy rose and made himself ready also.  The people hauled their
canoes into the water and went aboard.  The boy tried to board a canoe
also, but Blue Jay took hold of him and threw him into the water.  He
stood in the water up to his waist.  He held the canoe, but Blue Jay
struck his hands.  There he stood.  He cried, and cried, and went up to
the house.  The people went; they paddled, and soon they reached the
sea-lion island.  The hunter went ashore and speared a sea-lion.  It
jumped and drifted on the water [dead].  Again they towed it to the
island, and pulled it ashore.  They singed it.  When they had finished
singeing it they carved it and boiled it.  When it was done Blue Jay
said: "Let us eat it here."  They ate half of it and were satiated.
They slept because they had eaten too much.  Blue Jay awoke first, and
burned all that was left.  In the evening they gathered large and small
mussels and went home.  When they were near the shore he shouted:
"Stik[)u]a, fetch your mussels!"  Noise of many feet [was heard] and
Stik[)u]a [her children and the other women] came running down to the
beach {345} and carried up the mussels.  The boy said: "To-morrow I
shall accompany you."  But Blue Jay said: "What do you want to do?  We
might capsize and you would be drowned."

Early on the following morning the people made themselves ready.  The
boy arose and made himself ready also.  Blue Jay and the people hauled
their canoes down to the water.  The boy tried to board, but Blue Jay
threw him into the water.  He tried to hold the canoe.  The water
reached up to his armpits.  Blue Jay struck his hands [until he let
go].  Then the boy cried and cried.  Blue Jay and the other people went
away.

After some time the boy went up from the beach.  He took his arrows and
walked round a point of land.  There he met a young eagle and shot it.
He skinned it and tried to put the skin on.  It was too small; it
reached scarcely to his knees.  Then he took it off, and went on.
After a while he met another eagle.  He shot it and it fell down.  It
was a white-headed eagle.  He skinned it and tried the skin on, but it
was too small; it reached a little below his knees.  He took it off,
left it, and went on.  Soon he met a bald-headed eagle.  He shot it
twice and it fell down.  He skinned it and put the skin on.  It was
nearly large enough for him, and he tried to fly.  He could fly
downward only.  He did not rise.  He turned back, and now he could fly.
Now he went round the point seaward from Nakotat.  When he had nearly
gone round he smelled smoke of burning fat.  When he came round the
point he saw the people of his town.  He alighted on top of a tree and
looked down.  [He saw that] they had boiled a sea-lion and that they
ate it.  When they had nearly finished eating he flew up.  He thought:
"Oh, I wish Blue Jay would see me."  Then Blue Jay {346} looked up [and
saw] the bird flying about.  "Ah, a bird came to get food from us."
Five times the eagle circled over the fire; then it descended.  Blue
Jay took a piece of blubber and said: "I will give you this to eat."
The bird came down, grasped the piece of meat, and flew away.  "Ha!"
said Blue Jay, "that bird has feet like a man."  When the people had
eaten enough they slept.  Raven again hid a piece of meat.  Toward
evening they awoke and ate again; then Blue Jay burned the rest of
their food.  In the evening they gathered large and small mussels and
went home.  When the boy came home he lay down at once.  They
approached the village, and Blue Jay shouted: "Fetch your mussels,
Stik[)u]a!"  Noise of many feet [was heard] and Stik[)u]a [and the
other women] ran down to the beach and carried up the mussels.  They
tried to rouse the boy, but he did not arise.

The next morning the people made themselves ready and launched their
canoe.  The chief's son stayed in bed and did not attempt to accompany
them.  After sunrise he rose and called the women and children and
said: "Wash yourselves; be quick."  The women obeyed and washed
themselves.  He continued: "Comb your hair."  Then he put down a plank,
took a piece of meat out [from under his blanket, showed it to the
women, and said]: "Every day your husbands eat this."  He put two
pieces side by side on the plank, cut them to pieces, and greased the
heads of all the women and children.  Then he pulled the planks forming
the walls of the houses out of the ground.  He sharpened them [at one
end, and] those which were very wide he split in two.  He sharpened all
of them.  The last house of the village was that of the Raven.  He did
not pull out its wall-planks.  He put the planks on to the backs of the
women and children {347} and said: "Go down to the beach.  When you go
seaward swim five times round that rock.  Then go seaward.  When you
see sea-lions you shall kill them.  But you shall not give anything to
stingy people.  I shall take these children down.  They shall live on
the sea and be my relatives."

Then he split sinews.  The women went into the water and began to jump
[out of the water].  They swam five times back and forth in front of
the village.  Then they went seaward to the place where Blue Jay and
the men were boiling.  Blue Jay said to the men: "What is that?"  The
men looked and saw the girls jumping.  Five times they swam round Blue
Jay's rock.  Then they went seaward.  After a while birds came flying
to the island.  Their bills were [as red] as blood.  They followed [the
fish].  "Ah!" said Blue Jay, "do you notice them?  Whence come these
numerous birds?"  The Raven said: "Ha, squint-eye, they are your
children; do you not recognize them?"  Five times they went round the
rock.  Now [the boy] threw the sinews down upon the stones and said:
"When Blue Jay comes to gather mussels they shall be fast [to the
rocks]."  And he said to the women, turning toward the sea:
"Whale-Killer will be your name.  When you catch a whale you will eat
it, but when you catch a sea-lion you will throw it away; but you shall
not give anything to stingy people."

Blue Jay and the people were eating.  Then that hunter said: "Let us go
home.  I am afraid we have seen evil spirits; we have never seen
anything like that on this rock."  Now they gathered mussels and
carried along the meat which they had left over.  In the evening they
came near their home.  [Blue Jay shouted:] "Stik[)u]a, fetch your
mussels!"  There was no sound {348} of people.  Five times he called.
Now the people went ashore and [they saw that] the walls of the houses
had disappeared.  The people cried.  Blue Jay cried also, but somebody
said to him: "Be quiet.  Blue Jay; if you had not been bad our chief's
son would not have done so."  Now they all made one house.  Only Raven
had one house [by himself].  He went and searched for food on the
beach.  He found a sturgeon.  He went again to the beach and found a
porpoise.  Then Blue Jay went to the beach and tried to search for
food.  [As soon as he went out] it began to hail; the hailstones were
so large [indicating].  He tried to gather mussels and wanted to break
them off, but they did not come off.  He could not break them off.  He
gave it up.  Raven went to search on the beach and found a seal.  The
others ate roots only.  Thus their chief took revenge on them.



Beliefs of the Californian Tribes

The tribes of California afford a strange example of racial
conglomeration, speaking as they do a variety of languages totally
distinct from one another, and exhibiting many differences in physical
appearance and custom.  Concerning their mythological beliefs Bancroft
says:

"The Californian tribes, taken as a whole, are pretty uniform in the
main features of their theogonic beliefs.  They seem, without
exception, to have had a hazy conception of a lofty, almost supreme
being; for the most part referred to as a Great Man, the Old Man Above,
the One Above; attributing to him, however, as is usual in such cases,
nothing but the vaguest and most negative functions and qualities.  The
real practical power that most interested them, who had most to do with
them and they with him, was a demon, {349} or body of demons, of a
tolerably pronounced character.  In the face of divers assertions to
the effect that no such thing as a devil proper has ever been found in
savage mythology, we would draw attention to the following extract from
the Tomo manuscript of Mr. Powers--a gentleman who, both by his study
and by personal investigation, has made himself one of the best
qualified authorities on the belief of the native Californian, and
whose dealings have been for the most part with tribes that have never
had any friendly intercourse with white men.  Of course the thin and
meagre imagination of the American savages was not equal to the
creation of Milton's magnificent imperial Satan, or of Goethe's
Mephistopheles, with his subtle intellect, his vast powers, his
malignant mirth; but in so far as the Indian fiends or devils have the
ability, they are wholly as wicked as these.  They are totally bad,
they have no good thing in them, they think only evil; but they are
weak and undignified and absurd; they are as much beneath Satan as the
'Big Indians' who invent them are inferior in imagination to John
Milton.

"A definite location is generally assigned to the evil one as his
favourite residence or resort; thus the Californians in the county of
Siskiyou give over Devil's Castle, its mount and lake, to the malignant
spirits, and avoid the vicinity of these places with all possible care.

"The coast tribes of Del Norte County, California, live in constant
terror of a malignant spirit that takes the form of certain animals,
the form of a bat, of a hawk, of a tarantula, and so on, but especially
delights in and affects that of a screech-owl.  The belief of the
Russian river tribes and others is practically identical with this.

"The Cahrocs have some conception of a great {350} deity called
Chareya, the Old Man Above; he is wont to appear upon earth at times to
some of the most favoured sorcerers; he is described as wearing a close
tunic, with a medicine-bag, and as having long white hair that falls
venerably about his shoulders.  Practically, however, the Cahrocs, like
the majority of Californian tribes, venerate chiefly the Coyote.  Great
dread is also had of certain forest-demons of nocturnal habits; these,
say the Cahrocs, take the form of bears, and shoot arrows at benighted
wayfarers.

"Between the foregoing outlines of Californian belief and those
connected with the remaining tribes, passing south, we can detect no
salient difference till we reach the Olchones, a coast tribe between
San Francisco and Monterey; the sun here begins to be connected, or
identified by name, with that great spirit, or rather, that Big Man,
who made the earth and who rules in the sky.  So we find it again both
around Monterey and around San Luis Obispo; the first fruits of the
earth were offered in these neighbourhoods to the great light, and his
rising was greeted with cries of joy."

Father Gerónimo Boscana gives us the following account of the faith and
worship of the Acagchemem tribes, who inhabit the valley and
neighbourhood of San Juan Capistrano, California.  We give first the
version held by the _serranos_, or highlanders, of the interior
country, three or four leagues inland from San Juan Capistrano:

"Before the material world at all existed there lived two beings,
brother and sister, of a nature that cannot be explained; the brother
living above, and his name meaning the Heavens, the sister living
below, and her name signifying Earth.  From the union of these two
there sprang a numerous offspring.  Earth and sand were the
first-fruits of this marriage; then were born {351} rocks and stones;
then trees, both great and small; then grass and herbs; then animals;
lastly was born a great personage called Ouiot, who was a 'grand
captain.'  By some unknown mother many children of a medicine race were
born to this Ouiot.  All these things happened in the north; and
afterwards when men were created they were created in the north; but as
the people multiplied they moved toward the south, the earth growing
larger also and extending itself in the same direction.

"In process of time, Ouiot becoming old, his children plotted to kill
him, alleging that the infirmities of age made him unfit any longer to
govern them or attend to their welfare.  So they put a strong poison in
his drink, and when he drank of it a sore sickness came upon him; he
rose up and left his home in the mountains, and went down to what is
now the seashore, though at that time there was no sea there.  His
mother, whose name is the Earth, mixed him an antidote in a large
shell, and set the potion out in the sun to brew; but the fragrance of
it attracted the attention of the Coyote, who came and overset the
shell.  So Ouiot sickened to death, and though he told his children
that he would shortly return and be with them again, he has never been
seen since.  All the people made a great pile of wood and burnt his
body there, and just as the ceremony began the Coyote leaped upon the
body, saying that he would burn with it; but he only tore a piece of
flesh from the stomach and ate it and escaped.  After that the title of
the Coyote was changed from Eyacque, which means Sub-captain, to Eno,
that is to say, Thief and Cannibal.

"When now the funeral rites were over, a general council was held and
arrangements made for collecting animal and vegetable food; for up to
this time the {352} children and descendants of Ouiot had nothing to
eat but a kind of white clay.  And while they consulted together,
behold a marvellous thing appeared before them, and they spoke to it,
saying: 'Art thou our captain, Ouiot?'  But the spectre said: 'Nay, for
I am greater than Ouiot; my habitation is above, and my name is
Chinigchinich.'  Then he spoke further, having been told for what they
were come together: 'I create all things, and I go now to make man,
another people like unto you; as for you, I give you power, each after
his kind, to produce all good and pleasant things.  One of you shall
bring rain, and another dew, and another make the acorn grow, and
others other seeds, and yet others shall cause all kinds of game to
abound in the land; and your children shall have this power for ever,
and they shall be sorcerers to the men I go to create, and shall
receive gifts of them, that the game fail not and the harvests be
sure.'  Then Chinigchinich made man; out of the clay of the lake he
formed him, male and female; and the present Californians are the
descendants of the one or more pairs there and thus created.

"So ends the known tradition of the mountaineers; we must now go back
and take up the story anew at its beginning, as told by the _playanos_,
or people of the valley of San Juan Capistrano.  These say that an
invisible, all-powerful being, called Nocuma, made the world and all
that it contains of things that grow and move.  He made it round like a
ball and held it in his hands, where it rolled about a good deal at
first, till he steadied it by sticking a heavy black rock called Tosaut
into it, as a kind of ballast.  The sea was at this time only a little
stream running round the world, and so crowded with fish that their
twinkling fins had no longer room to move; so great was the press that
{353} some of the more foolish fry were for effecting a landing and
founding a colony upon the dry land, and it was only with the utmost
difficulty that they were persuaded by their elders that the killing
air and baneful sun and the want of feet must infallibly prove the
destruction before many days of all who took part in such a desperate
enterprise.  The proper plan was evidently to improve and enlarge their
present home; and to this end, principally by the aid of one very large
fish, they broke the great rock Tosaut in two, finding a bladder in the
centre filled with a very bitter substance.  The taste of it pleased
the fish, so they emptied it into the water, and instantly the water
became salt and swelled up and overflowed a great part of the old
earth, and made itself the new boundaries that remain to this day.

"Then Nocuma created a man, shaping him out of the soil of the earth,
calling him Ejoni.  A woman also the great god made, presumably out of
the same material as the man, calling her Aé.  Many children were born
to this first pair, and their descendants multiplied over the land.
The name of one of these last was Sirout, that is to say, Handful of
Tobacco, and the name of his wife was Ycaiut, which means Above; and to
Sirout and Ycaiut was born a son, while they lived in a place
north-east about eight leagues from San Juan Capistrano.  The name of
this son was Ouiot, that is to say, Dominator; he grew a fierce and
redoubtable warrior; haughty, ambitious, tyrannous, he extended his
lordship on every side, ruling everywhere as with a rod of iron; and
the people conspired against him.  It was determined that he should die
by poison; a piece of the rock Tosaut was ground up in so deadly a way
that its mere external application was sufficient to cause death.
Ouiot, notwithstanding that {354} he held himself constantly on the
alert, having been warned of his danger by a small burrowing animal
called the _cucumel_, was unable to avoid his fate; a few grains of the
cankerous mixture were dropped upon his breast while he slept, and the
strong mineral ate its way to the very springs of his life.  All the
wise men of the land were called to his assistance; but there was
nothing for him save to die.  His body was burned on a great pile with
songs of joy and dances, and the nation rejoiced.

"While the people were gathered to this end, it was thought advisable
to consult on the feasibility of procuring seed and flesh to eat
instead of the clay which had up to this time been the sole food of the
human family.  And while they yet talked together, there appeared to
them, coming they knew not whence, one called Attajen, 'which name
implies man, or rational being.'  And Attajen, understanding their
desires, chose out certain of the elders among them, and to these gave
he power; one that he might cause rain to fall, to another that he
might cause game to abound, and so with the rest, to each his power and
gift, and to the successors of each for ever.  These were the first
medicine-men."

Many years having elapsed since the death of Ouiot, there appeared in
the same place one called Ouiamot, reputed son of Tacu and
Auzar--people unknown, but natives, it is thought by Boscana, of "some
distant land."  This Ouiamot is better known by his great name
Chinigchinich, which means Almighty.  He first manifested his powers to
the people on a day when they had met in congregation for some purpose
or other; he appeared dancing before them crowned with a kind of high
crown made of tall feathers stuck into a circlet of some kind, girt
with a {355} kind of petticoat of feathers, and having his flesh
painted black and red.  Thus decorated he was called the _tobet_.
Having danced some time, Chinigchinich called out the medicine-men, or
_puplems_, as they were called, among whom it would appear the chiefs
are always numbered, and confirmed their power; telling them that he
had come from the stars to instruct them in dancing and all other
things, and commanding that in all their necessities they should array
themselves in the _tobet_, and so dance as he had danced, supplicating
him by his great name, that thus they might be granted their petitions.
He taught them how to worship him, how to build _vanquechs_, or places
of worship, and how to direct their conduct in various affairs of life.
Then he prepared to die, and the people asked him if they should bury
him; but he warned them against attempting such a thing.  "If ye buried
me," he said, "ye would tread upon my grave, and for that my hand would
be heavy upon you; look to it, and to all your ways, for lo, I go up
where the high stars are, where mine eyes shall see all the ways of
men; and whosoever will not keep my commandments nor observe the things
I have taught, behold, disease shall plague all his body, and no food
shall come near his lips, the bear shall rend his flesh, and the
crooked tooth of the serpent shall sting him."

In Lower California the Pericues were divided into two _gentes_, each
of which worshipped a divinity which was hostile to the other.  The
tradition explains that there was a great lord in heaven, called
Niparaya, who made earth and sea, and was almighty and invisible.  His
wife was Anayicoyondi, a goddess who, though possessing no body, bore
him in a divinely mysterious manner three children, one of whom,
Quaayayp, was a real man and born on earth, on the Acaragui {356}
mountains.  Very powerful this young god was, and for a long time he
lived with the ancestors of the Pericues, whom it is almost to be
inferred that he created; at any rate we are told that he was able to
make men, drawing them up out of the earth.  The men at last killed
their great hero and teacher, and put a crown of thorns upon his head.
Somewhere or other he remains lying dead to this day; and he remains
constantly beautiful, neither does his body know corruption.  Blood
drips constantly from his wounds; and though he can speak no more,
being dead, yet there is an owl that speaks to him.

The other god was called Wac, or Tuparan.  According to the Niparaya
sect, this Wac had made war on their favourite god, and had been by him
defeated and cast forth from heaven into a cave under the earth, of
which cave the whales of the sea were the guardians.  With a perverse,
though not unnatural, obstinacy, the sect that took Wac or Tuparan for
their great god persisted in holding ideas peculiar to themselves with
regard to the truth of the foregoing story, and their account of the
great war in heaven and its results differed from the other as differ
the creeds of heterodox and orthodox everywhere; they ascribe, for
example, part of the creation to other gods besides Niparaya.



Myths of the Athapascans

The great Athapascan family, who inhabit a vast extent of territory
stretching north from the fifty-fifth parallel nearly to the Arctic
Ocean, and westward to the Pacific, with cognate ramifications to the
far south, are weak in mythological conceptions.  Regarding them
Bancroft says:[4]


[4] _The Native Races of the Pacific States_, vol. iii.



{357}

"They do not seem in any of their various tribes to have a single
expressed idea with regard to a supreme power.  The Loucheux branch
recognize a certain personage, resident in the moon, whom they
supplicate for success in starting on a hunting expedition.  This being
once lived among them as a poor ragged boy that an old woman had found
and was bringing up; and who made himself ridiculous to his fellows by
making a pair of very large snow-shoes; for the people could not see
what a starveling like him should want with shoes of such unusual size.
Times of great scarcity troubled the hunters, and they would often have
fared badly had they not invariably on such occasions come across a new
broad trail that led to a head or two of freshly killed game.  They
were glad enough to get the game and without scruples as to its
appropriation; still they felt curious as to whence it came and how.
Suspicion at last pointing to the boy and his great shoes as being in
some way implicated in the affair, he was watched.  It soon became
evident that he was indeed the benefactor of the Loucheux, and the
secret hunter whose quarry had so often replenished their empty pots;
yet the people were far from being adequately grateful, and continued
to treat him with little kindness or respect.  On one occasion they
refused him a certain piece of fat--him who had so often saved their
lives by his timely bounty!  That night the lad disappeared, leaving
only his clothes behind, hanging on a tree.  He returned to them in a
month, however, appearing as a man, and dressed as a man.  He told them
that he had taken up his home in the moon; that he would always look
down with a kindly eye to their success in hunting; but he added that
as a punishment for their shameless greed and ingratitude in refusing
him the piece of fat, all animals {358} should be lean the long winter
through, and fat only in summer; as has since been the case.

"According to Hearne, the Tinneh believe in a kind of spirits, or
fairies, called _nantena_, which people the earth, the sea, and the
air, and are instrumental for both good and evil.  Some of them believe
in a good spirit called Tihugun, 'my old friend,' supposed to reside in
the sun and in the moon; they have also a bad spirit, Chutsain,
apparently only a personification of death, and for this reason called
bad.

"They have no regular order of _shamans_; any one when the spirit moves
him may take upon himself their duties and pretensions, though some by
happy chances, or peculiar cunning, are much more highly esteemed in
this regard than others, and are supported by voluntary contributions.
The conjurer often shuts himself in his tent and abstains from food for
days till his earthly grossness thins away, and the spirits and things
unseen are constrained to appear at his behest.  The young Tinneh care
for none of these things; the strong limb and the keen eye, holding
their own well in the jostle of life, mock at the terrors of the
invisible; but as the pulses dwindle with disease or age, and the knees
strike together in the shadow of impending death, the _shaman_ is hired
to expel the evil things of which a patient is possessed.  Among the
Tacullies a confession is often resorted to at this stage, on the truth
and accuracy of which depend the chances of a recovery."



Conclusion

In concluding this survey of representative myths of the Red Race of
North America, the reader will probably be chiefly impressed with the
circumstance that although many of these tales exhibit a striking {359}
resemblance to the myths of European and Asiatic peoples they have yet
an atmosphere of their own which strongly differentiates them from the
folk-tales of all other races.  It is a truism in mythology that
although the tales and mythological systems of peoples dwelling widely
apart may show much likeness to one another, such a resemblance cannot
be advanced as a proof that the divergent races at some distant period
possessed a common mythology.  Certain tribes in Borneo live in huts
built on piles driven into lake-beds and use blow-pipes; so do some
Indians of Guiana and contiguous countries; yet no scientist of
experience would be so rash as to advance the theory that these races
possessed a common origin.  It is the same with mythological processes,
which may have been evolved separately at great distances, but yet
exhibit a marked likeness.  These resemblances arise from the
circumstance that the mind of man, whether he be situated in China or
Peru, works on surprisingly similar lines.  But, as has been indicated,
the best proof that the myths of North America have not been
sophisticated by those of Europe and Asia is the circumstance that the
aboriginal atmosphere they contain is so marked that even the most
superficial observer could not fail to observe its presence.  In the
tales contained in this volume the facts of Indian life, peculiar and
unique, enter into every description and are inalienably interwoven
with the matter of the story.

In closing, the author desires to make a strong appeal for a reasoned
and charitable consideration of the Indian character on the part of his
readers.  This noble, manly, and dignified race has in the past been
grossly maligned, chiefly by persons themselves ignorant and inspired
by hereditary dislike.  The Red Man is neither a monster of inhumanity
nor a marvel {360} of cunning, but a being with like feelings and
aspirations to our own.  Because his customs and habits of thought
differ from ours he has been charged with all manner of crimes and
offences with which he has, in general, nothing to do.  We do not deny
that he was, till very recent times, a savage, with the habits and
outlook of a savage.  But that he ever was a demon in human shape must
be strenuously denied.  In the march of progress Indian men and women
are to-day taking places of honour and emolument side by side with
their white fellow-citizens, and many gifted and cultured persons of
Indian blood have done good work for the race.  Let us hope that the
ancient virtues of courage and endurance which have stood the Indian
people in such good stead of old will assist their descendants in the
even more strenuous tasks of civilization to which they are now called.

[Illustration: MAP TO ILLUSTRATE LINGUISTIC FAMILIES OF NORTH AMERICAN
INDIANS]




{363}

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The annexed bibliography, although full, is far from being exhaustive,
but it is hoped that readers who desire to follow up the whole or any
separate department of study connected with the Red Race of North
America will find in it reference to many useful volumes.  It is
claimed that the list represents the best of the literature upon the
subject.


ADAIR, JAMES: _The History of the American Indians_.  London, 1775.

AMERICAN ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY: _Transactions and Collections (Archælogia
Americana)_, vols. i.-vii.; Worcester, 1820-85.  _Proceedings_, various
numbers.

_American Archæologist_ (formerly _The Antiquarian_), vol. ii.,
Columbus.  1898.

AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY.  _Transactions_, vols. i.-iii.; New
York, 1845-53.  _Publications_, vols. i.-ii.; Leyden, 1907-9.

AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.  _Minutes and Proceedings: Digest_,
vol. i.; Philadelphia, 1744-1838.  _Proceedings_, vols. i.-xliv.;
Philadelphia, 1838-1905.  _Transactions_, vols. i.-vi.; Philadelphia,
1759-1809.  _Transactions_, New Series, vols. i.-xix.; Philadelphia,
1818-98.

ANTHROPOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF WASHINGTON.  _Transactions_, vols. i.-iii.
Washington, 1881-85.

ARCHÆOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF AMERICA.  _Papers_, American Series, vol.
i., Boston and London, 1881 (reprinted 1883); vol. iii., Cambridge,
1890; vol. iv., Cambridge, 1892; vol. v., Cambridge, 1890.  _Annual
Report_, first to eleventh; Cambridge, 1880-90.  _Bulletin_, vol. i.;
Boston, 1883.

ASHE, THOMAS: _Travels in America performed in 1806; for the purpose of
exploring the Rivers Alleghany, Monongahela, Ohio, and Mississippi, and
ascertaining the Produce and Condition of their Banks and Vicinity_.
London, 1808.

ATWATER, CALEB: _Description of the Antiquities discovered in the State
of Ohio and other Western States_.  (In _Archæologia Americana_, vol.
i., 1820.)

BACON, OLMER N.: _A History of Natick, from its First Settlement in
1651 to the Present Time_.  Boston, 1856.

{364}

BAEGERT, JACOB: _An Account of the Aboriginal Inhabitants of the
California Peninsula_.  Translated by Charles Rau.  (Smithsonian Report
for 1863 and 1864; reprinted 1865 and 1875.)

BAKER, C. ALICE: _True Stories of New England Captives_.  Cambridge,
1897.

BANCROFT, GEORGE: _History of the United States_.  9 vols.  Boston,
1838-75.

BANCROFT, HUBERT HOWE: Works.  39 vols. San Francisco, 1886-90.  (vols.
i.-v., _Native Races_; vi.-vii., _Central America_; ix.-xiv., _North
Mexican States and Texas_; xvii., _Arizona and New Mexico_;
xviii.-xxiv., _California_; xxv., _Nevada, Colorado, Wyoming_; xxvi.,
_Utah_; xxvii.-xxviii., _North-west Coast_; xxix.-xxx., _Oregon_;
xxxi., _Washington, Idaho, Montana_; xxxii., _British Columbia_;
xxxiii., _Alaska_; xxxiv., _California Pastoral_; xxxv., _California
inter Pocula_; xxxvi.-xxxvii., _Popular Tribunals_; xxxviii., _Essays
and Miscellany_; xxxix., _Literary Industries_.)

BANDELIER, ADOLF F.: _Historical Introduction to Studies among the
Sedentary Indians of New Mexico_.  (_Papers_ of the Archæological
Institute of America, American Series, vol. i., Boston, 1881.)

---- _Final Report of Investigations among the Indians of the
South-western United States, carried on mainly in the Years from 1880
to 1885_.  (_Papers_ of the Archæological Institute of America,
American Series, vol. iii., Cambridge, 1890; vol. iv., Cambridge, 1892.)

BARRATT, JOSEPH: _The Indian of New England and the North-eastern
Provinces: a Sketch of the Life of an Indian Hunter, Ancient Traditions
relating to the Etchemin Tribe_, etc.  Middletown, Conn., 1851.

BARTON, BENJAMIN S.: _New Views of the Origin of the Tribes and Nations
of America_.  Philadelphia, 1797.  _Ibid._, 1798.

BARTRAM, JOHN: _Observations on the Inhabitants, Climate, Soil, Rivers,
Productions, Animals, and other Matters worthy of Notice made by Mr.
John Bartram, in his Travels from Pensilvania to Onondago, Oswego, and
the Lake Ontario in Canada, to which is annexed a Curious Account of
the Cataracts of Niagara, by Mr. Peter Kalm_.  London, 1751.

BARTRAM, WILLIAM: _Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia,
East and West Florida, the Cherokee Country, the Extensive Territories
of the Muscogulges or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the
Chactaws_.  Philadelphia, 1791.  London, 1792.

{365}

BATTEY, THOMAS C.: _Life and Adventures of a Quaker among the Indians_.
Boston and New York, 1875.  _Ibid._, 1876.

BEACH, WILLIAM W.: _The Indian Miscellany: containing Papers on the
History, Antiquities, Arts, Languages, Religions, Traditions, and
Superstitions of the American Aborigines_.  Albany, 1877.

BEAUCHAMP, WILLIAM M.: _The Iroquois Trail; or, Footprints of the Six
Nations_.  Fayetteville, N.Y., 1892.

BELL, A. W.: _On the Native Races of New Mexico_.  (_Journal_ of the
Ethnological Society of London, New Series, vol. i., Session 1868-69;
London, 1869.)

BELL, ROBERT: _The Medicine-man; or, Indian and Eskimo Notions of
Medicine_.  (_Canada Medical and Surgical Journal_, Montreal,
March-April, 1886.)

BLISS, EUGENE F. (Editor): _Diary of David Zeisberger, a Moravian
Missionary among the Indians of Ohio_.  2 vols.  Cincinnati, 1885.

BOAS, FRANZ: _Songs and Dances of the Kwakiutl_.  (_Journal of American
Folk-lore_, vol. i.; Boston, 1888.)

---- _Chinook Texts_.  (_Bulletin 20_, Bureau of American Ethnology;
Washington, 1895.)

---- _The Mythology of the Bella Coola Indians_.  (Memoirs of the
American Museum of Natural History, vol. ii., _Anthropology_, i.; New
York, 1898.)

---- _Kathlamet Texts_.  {_Bulletin 26_, Bureau of American Ethnology.
Washington, 1901.)

---- _Tsimshian Texts_.  (_Bulletin 27_, Bureau of American Ethnology.
Washington, 1902.)

BOLLAERT, WILLIAM: _Observations on the Indian Tribes in Texas_.
(_Journal_ of the Ethnological Society of London, vol. ii., 1850.)

BOLLER, HENRY A.: _Among the Indians.  Eight Years in the Far West:
1858-1866_.  _Embracing Sketches of Montana and Salt Lake_.
Philadelphia, 1868.

BONNELL, GEORGE W.: _Topographical Description of Texas; to which is
added an Account of the Indian Tribes_.  Austin, 1840.

BOSCANA, GERONIMO: _Chinigchinich; a Historical Account of the Origin,
Customs, and Traditions of the Indians at the Missionary Establishment
{366} of St. Juan Capistrano, Alta California, called the Acagchemem
Nation_.  (In Alfred Robinson's _Life in California_; New York, 1846.)

BOURKE, JOHN G.: _The Snake-Dance of the Moquis of Arizona; being a
Narrative of a Journey from Santa Fe, New Mexico, to the Villages of
the Moqui Indians of Arizona_.  New York, 1884.

BRICKELL, JOHN: _The Natural History of North Carolina; with an Account
of the Trade, Manners, and Customs of the Christian and Indian
Inhabitants_.  Dublin, 1737.

BRINTON, DANIEL G.: _Myths of the New World_.  New York, 1868.

---- _National Legend of the Chahta-Muskokee Tribes_.  Morrisania,
N.Y., 1870.

---- _American Hero-myths: A Study in the Native Religions of the
Western Continent_.  Philadelphia, 1882.

---- _Essays of an Americanist_.  Philadelphia, 1890.

---- _The American Race_.  New York, 1891.

BROWNELL, CHARLES DE W.: _The Indian Races of North and South America_.
Boston, 1853.

BUCHANAN, JAMES: _Sketches of the History, Manners, and Customs of the
North American Indians, with a plan for their Melioration_.  Vols.
i.-ii.  New York, 1824.  _Ibid._, 1825.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION): _Annual
Reports_, i.-xxvi.; Washington, 1881-1908.  _Bulletins_, 1-49;
Washington, 1887-1910.  _Introductions_, i.-iv.; Washington, 1877-1880.
_Miscellaneous Publications_, 1-9; Washington, 1880-1907.
_Contributions to North American Ethnology_ (q.v.).

BUSHNELL, D. I., Jr.: _The Choctaw of Bayou Lacomb, St. Tammany Parish,
Louisiana_.  (_Bulletin 48_, Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington,
1909.)

CALLENDER, JOHN: _An Historical Discourse on the Civil and Religious
Affairs of the Colony of Rhode-Island and Providence Plantations in
New-England, in America_.  Boston, 1739.  (_Collections_, Rhode Island
Historical Society, vols. i.-iv.; Providence, 1838.)

CAMBRIDGE ANTHROPOLOGICAL EXPEDITION TO TORRES STRAITS: _Reports_, vol.
ii., parts i. and ii.  Cambridge, 1901-3.

CARR, LUCIEN: _Food of certain American Indians_.  (_Proceedings_ of
the American Antiquarian Society, New Series, vol. x.; Worcester, 1895.)

{367}

CARR, LUCIEN: _Dress and Ornaments of certain American Indians_.
(_Proceedings_ of the American Antiquarian Society, New Series, vol.
xi.; Worcester, 1898.)

CARVER, JONATHAN: _Travels through the Interior Parts of North America,
in the Years 1766, 1767, and 1768_.  London, 1778.

---- _Three Years through the Interior Parts of North America for more
than Five Thousand Miles_.  Philadelphia, 1796.

---- _Carver's Travels in Wisconsin_.  New York, 1838.

CATLIN, GEORGE: _Illustrations of the Manners and Customs and Condition
of the North American Indians_.  2 vols. London, 1841.  _Ibid._,
London, 1866.

---- _Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the
North American Indians_.  2 vols. New York and London, 1844.

---- _O-kee-pa: a Religious Ceremony; and other Customs of the
Mandans_.  Philadelphia, 1867.

CHAMPLAIN, SAMUEL DE: _Voyages: ou Journal des Découvertes de la
Nouvelle France_.  2 vols.  Paris, 1830.

CHARLEVOIX, PIERRE F. X. DE.: _Histoire et Description générale de la
Nouvelle France_.  3 vols.  Paris, 1744.

CLARK, W. P.: _The Indian Sign Language_.  Philadelphia, 1885.

COLDEN, CADWALLADER: _The History of the Five Indian Nations of Canada,
which are dependent on the Province of New York, America_.  London,
1747.  _Ibid._, 1755.

CONANT, A. J.: _Footprints of Vanished Races in the Mississippi
Valley_.  St. Louis, 1879.

_Contributions to North American Ethnology_.  Department of the
Interior, U.S. Geographical and Geological Survey of the Rocky Mountain
Region, J. W. Powell in charge.  vols. i.-vii., ix.  Washington,
1877-93.

CORTEZ, JOSÉ: _History of the Apache Nations and other Tribes near the
Parallel of 35° North Latitude_.  (_Pacific Railroad Reports_, vol.
iii., part iii., chap. 7; Washington, 1856.)

COUES, ELLIOTT (Editor): _History of the Expedition of Lewis and Clark
to the Sources of the Missouri River and to the Pacific in 1804-5-6_.
A new edition, 4 vols.  New York, 1893.

CURTIN, JEREMIAH: _Creation Myths of Primitive America in relation to
the Religious History and Mental Development of Mankind_.  Boston, 1898.

{368}

CURTIS, EDWARD S.: _The American Indian_.  4 vols. New York, 1907-9.

CUSHING, F. H.: _Zuñi Fetiches_.  (_Second Report_, Bureau of American
Ethnology; Washington, 1883.)

---- _Outlines of Zuñi Creation Myths_.  (_Thirteenth Report_, Bureau
of American Ethnology; Washington, 1896.)

---- _Zuñi Folk-tales_.  New York, 1901.

DALL, WILLIAM H.: _Tribes of the Extreme North-West_.  (_Contributions
to North American Ethnology_, vol. i.; Washington, 1877.)

---- _The Native Tribes of Alaska_.  (_Proceedings_ of the American
Association for the Advancement of Science, 1885, vol. xxxiv.; Salem,
1886.)

DAWSON, GEORGE M.: _Notes and Observations of the Kwakiootl People of
the Northern Part of Vancouver Island and Adjacent Coasts made during
the Summer of 1885, with Vocabulary of about 700 Words_.  (_Proceedings
and Transactions_ of the Royal Society of Canada, 1887, vol. v.;
Montreal, 1888.)

---- _Notes on the Shuswap People of British Columbia_.  (_Proceedings
and Transactions_ of the Royal Society of Canada, 1891, vol. ix., sect.
ii.; Montreal, 1892.)

DE FOREST, JOHN W.: _History of the Indians of Connecticut from the
Earliest Known Period to 1850_.  Hartford, 1851.  _Ibid._, 1852, 1853.

DEANS, JAMES: _Tales from the Totems of the Hidery_.  (_Archives_ of
the International Folk-lore Association, vol. ii.; Chicago, 1889.)

DELLENBAUGH, F. S.: _North Americans of Yesterday_.  New York and
London, 1901.

DIXON, R. B.: _Maidu Myths_.  (_Bulletins_ of the American Museum of
Natural History, vol. vii., part ii.; New York, 1902.)

DODGE, RICHARD I.: _Our Wild Indians_.  Hartford, 1882.

DONALDSON, THOMAS: _The Moqui Indians of Arizona and Pueblo Indians of
New Mexico_.  (_Extra Census Bulletin_, Eleventh Census, U.S.;
Washington, 1893.)

DORSEY, GEORGE A.: _Arapaho Sun Dance: The Ceremony of the Offerings
Lodge_.  (_Publications_ of the Field College Museum, Anthropological
Series, vol. iv.; Chicago, 1903.)

---- _Mythology of the Wichita_.  (Carnegie Institution of Washington,
_Publication_ No. 21; Washington, 1904.)

{369}

DORSEY, GEORGE A.: _Traditions of the Osage_.  (_Publications_ of the
Field College Museum, Anthropological Series, vol. vii., No. i;
Chicago, 1904.)

---- _The Cheyenne_.  Part i., _Ceremonial Organization_; part ii.,
_The Sun Dance_.  (_Publications_ of the Field College Museum,
Anthropological Series, vol. ix., Nos. 1 and 2; Chicago, 1905.)

---- _The Pawnee: Mythology_.  Part i.  (Carnegie Institution of
Washington, _Publication_ No. 59; Washington, 1906.)

---- AND KROEBER, A. L.: _Traditions of the Arapaho_.  (_Publications_
of the Field College Museum, Anthropological Series, vol. v.; Chicago,
1903.)

DORSEY, J. OWEN: _Osage Traditions_.  (_Sixth Report_, Bureau of
American Ethnology; Washington, 1888.)

---- _The Cegiha Language_.  (_Contributions to North American
Ethnology_, vol. vi.; Washington, 1890.)

---- _A Study of Siouan Cults_.  (_Eleventh Report_, Bureau of American
Ethnology; Washington, 1894.)

DRAKE, SAMUEL G.: _Book of the Indians of North America_.  Boston,
1833.  _Ibid._, Boston, 1841; Boston [1848].

DUNN, JACOB P.: _True Indian Stories_.  With Glossary of Indiana Indian
names.  Indianapolis, 1908.  _Ibid._, 1909.

EMERSON, ELLEN R.: _Indian Myths; or, Legends, Traditions, and Symbols
of the Aborigines of America_.  Boston, 1884.

EWBANK, THOMAS: _North American Rock-writing_.  Morrisania, N.Y., 1866.

FAIRBANKS, G. R.: _History of Florida, 1512-1842_.  Philadelphia, 1871.

FEWKES, J. W.: _Tusayan Katcinas_.  (_Fifteenth Report_, Bureau of
American Ethnology; Washington, 1897.)

---- _Tusayan Migration Traditions_.  (_Nineteenth Report_, Bureau of
American Ethnology, part ii.; Washington, 1900.)

FISCHER, JOSEPH: _Discoveries of the Norsemen in America_.  London,
1903.

FLETCHER, ALICE C.: _Indian Story and Song from North America_.
Boston, 1900.

FOSTER, J. W.: _Prehistoric Races of the United States of America_.
Chicago, 1878.

{370}

FOWKE, GERARD: _Stone Art_.  (_Thirteenth Report_, Bureau of American
Ethnology; Washington, 1896.)

GASS, PATRICK: _Journal of the Voyages and Travels of a Corps of
Discovery, under Command of Lewis and Clark_.  Pittsburg, 1807.  Ibid.,
Philadelphia, 1810; Dayton, 1847; Welsburg, Va., 1859.

GATSCHET, ALBERT S.: _A Migration Legend of the Creek Indians_.  vol.
i., Philadelphia, 1884.  (Brinton's Library of Aboriginal American
Literature, No. 4); vol. ii., St. Louis, 1888 (_Transactions_ of the
Academy of Sciences, St. Louis, vol. v., Nos. 1 and 2).

GENTLEMAN OF ELVAS: _A Narrative of the Expedition of Hernando de Soto
Into Florida_.  Published at Evora, 1557.  Translated from the
Portuguese by Richard Hakluyt.  London, 1609.  (In French, B.F., Hist.
Coll. La., part ii.; 2nd ed., Philadelphia, 1850.)

GRINNELL, GEORGE BIRD: _Pawnee Hero-stories and Folk-tales_.  New York,
1889.

---- _Blackfoot Lodge Tales_.  New York, 1892.

HALE, HORATIO: _Iroquois Book of Rites_.  Philadelphia, 1883.

HECKEWELDER, JOHN G. E.: _An Account of the History, Manners, and
Customs of the Indian Nations who once inhabited Pennsylvania and the
Neighbouring States_.  Philadelphia, 1819.  (Reprinted, Memoirs of the
Historical Society of Pennsylvania, vol. xii.; Philadelphia, 1876.)

HEWITT, J. N. B.: _Legend of the Founding of the Iroquois League_.
(_American Anthropologist_, vol. v.; Washington, 1892.)

---- _Orenda and a Definition of Religion_.  (_American
Anthropologist_, New Series, vol. iv.; Washington, 1891.)

---- _Iroquoian Cosmology_.  (_Twenty-first Report_, Bureau of American
Ethnology; Washington, 1903.)

HOFFMAN, WALTER J.: _The Mide'-wiwin, or 'Grand Medicine Society,' of
the Ojibwa_.  (_Seventh Report_, Bureau of American Ethnology;
Washington, 1891.)

HOLMES, WILLIAM H.: Aboriginal Pottery of the Eastern United States.
(Twentieth Report, Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington, 1903.

HOUGH, WALTER: _Antiquities of the Upper Gila and Salt River Valleys in
Arizona and New Mexico_.  (_Bulletin 35_, Bureau of American Ethnology;
Washington, 1907.)

{371}

HRDLICKA, ALES: _Physiological and Medical Observations among the
Indians of the South-western United States and Northern Mexico_.
(_Bulletin 34_, Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington, 1908.)

HUNTER, JOHN D.: _Memoirs of a Captivity among the Indians of North
America_.  London, 1823.

JOHNSON, ELIAS: _Legends, Traditions, and Laws of the Iroquois, or Six
Nations_.  Lockport, N.Y., 1881.

_Journal of American Ethnology and Archæology_, vols. i.-iv.  Boston
and New York, 1891-94.

_Journal of American Folk-lore_, vols. i.-xxiii.  Boston and New York,
1888-1910.

KANE, PAUL: _Wanderings of an Artist among the Indians of North
America_.  London, 1859.

KELLY, FANNY: _Narrative of my Captivity among the Sioux Indians_.  2nd
ed.  Chicago, 1880.

KOHL, J. G.: _Kitchi-gami: Wanderings round Lake Superior_.  London,
1860.

LAFITAU, JOSEPH FRANÇOIS: _Moeurs des Sauvages amériquains, comparées
aux Moeurs des Premiers Temps_.  2 vols. Paris, 1724.

LARIMER, SARAH L.: _Capture and Escape; or, Life among the Sioux_.
Philadelphia, 1870.

LE BEAU, C.: _Aventures; ou Voyage curieux et nouveau parmi les
Sauvages de l'Amérique Septentrionale_.  2 vols.  Amsterdam, 1738.

LEE, NELSON: _Three Years among the Comanches_.  Albany, 1859.

LELAND, C. G.: _Algonquin Legends of New England_.  Boston and New
York, 1885.

LEWIS, MERIWETHER: _The Travels of Captains Lewis and Clark, from St.
Louis, by way of the Missouri and Columbia Rivers, to the Pacific
Ocean; performed in the Rears 1804, 1805, and 1806_.  London, 1809.
_Ibid._, Philadelphia, 1809.

---- AND CLARK, WILLIAM: _History of the Expedition of Captains Lewis
and Clark to the Sources of the Missouri, across the Rocky Mountains;
1804-6_.  2 vols.  Philadelphia, 1814.  _Ibid._, Dublin, 1817; New
York, 1817.

---- _The Journal of Lewis and Clark to the Mouth of the Columbia River
beyond the Rocky Mountains_.  Dayton, Ohio, 1840.

{372}

LEWIS, MERIWETHER, AND CLARK, WILLIAM: _Original Journals of the Lewis
and Clark Expedition, 1804-6_.  Edited by R. G. Thwaites.  8 vols.  New
York, 1904-5.

LONG, JOHN: _Voyages and Travels of an Indian Interpreter and Trader,
describing the Manners and Customs of the North American Indians_.
London, 1791.

LOSKIEL, GEORGE HENRY: _History of the Mission of the United Brethren
among the Indians in North America_.  London, 1794.

LUMHOLTZ, CARL: _Tarahumari Dances and Plant-worship_.  (_Scribner's
Magazine_, vol. xvi., No. 4; New York, 1894.)

LUMMIS, CHARLES F.: _The Man who Married the Moon, and other Pueblo
Indian Folk-stories_.  New York, 1894.

McGEE, W. J.: _The Siouan Indians_.  (_Fifteenth Report_, Bureau of
American Ethnology; Washington, 1897.)

MALLERY, GARRICK: _Sign-language among North American Indians_.
(_First Report_, Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington, 1881.)

---- _Picture-writing of the American Indians_.  (_Tenth Report_,
Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington, 1893.)

MATTHEWS, WASHINGTON: _Navaho Legends_.  Boston and New York, 1897.

MOONEY, JAMES: _The Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees_.  (_Seventh
Report_, Bureau of American Ethnology; Washington, 1891.)

---- _The Ghost-dance Religion and the Sioux Outbreak of 1890_.
(_Fourteenth Report_, Bureau of American Ethnology, part ii.;
Washington, 1896.)

---- _Myths of the Cherokee_.  (_Nineteenth Report_, Bureau of American
Ethnology, part i.; Washington, 1900.)

NADAILLAC, MARQUIS DE: _Prehistoric America_.  Translated by N.
D'Anvers.  New York and London, 1884.

NORDENSKIOLD, G.: _Cliff-dwellers of the Mesa Verde_.  Translated by D.
Lloyd Morgan.  Stockholm and Chicago, 1893.

NORTH-WESTERN TRIBES OF CANADA: _Reports on the Physical Characters,
Languages, Industrial and Social Condition of the North-Western Tribes
of the Dominion of Canada_.  (In _Reports_ of the British Association
for the Advancement of Science, 1885-98; London, 1886-99.)

PAYNE, EDWARD J.: _History of the New World called America_.  2 vols.
Oxford and New York, 1892.

{373}

PEABODY MUSEUM OF AMERICAN ARCHÆOLOGY AND ETHNOLOGY: _Archæological and
Ethnological Papers_, vols. i.-iii., 1888-1904.  _Memoirs_, vols.
i.-iii., 1896-1904.  _Annual Reports_, vols. i.-xxxvii., 1868-1904.
Cambridge, Mass.

PENSHALLOW, SAMUEL: _The History of the Wars of New-England with the
Eastern Indians_.  Boston, 1726.  (_Collections_ of the New Hampshire
Historical Society, vol. i., Concord, 182,4; reprint, 1871.)

PERROT, NICOLAS: _Mémoire sur les Moeurs, Coutumes, et Religion des
Sauvages de l'Amérique Septentrionale, publié pour la première fois par
le R. P. J. Tailhan_.  Leipzig and Paris, 1864.

PETITOT, EMILE: _Traditions indiennes du Canada Nord-Ouest_.  Alençon,
1887.

PIDGEON, WILLIAM: _Traditions of De-coo-dah; and Antiquarian
Researches, comprising extensive Explorations, Surveys, and Excavations
of the Wonderful and Mysterious Remains of the Mound-builders in
America_.  New York, 1858.

POWERS, STEPHEN: _Tribes of California_.  (_Contributions to North
American Ethnology_, vol. iii.; Washington, 1877.)

RAFN, K. C.: _Antiquitates Americanæ_.  Copenhagen, 1837.

SCHOOLCRAFT, HENRY R.:  _Algic Researches_.  2 vols. New York, 1839.

---- _Historical and Statistical Information respecting the Indian
Tribes of the United States_.  Philadelphia, 1851-57.

SHORT, JOHN T.: _North Americans of Antiquity_.  2nd ed.  New York,
1880.

SIMMS, S. C.: _Traditions of the Crows_.  (_Publications_ of the Field
College Museum, Anthropological Series, vol. ii., No. 6; Chicago, 1903.)

SMITH, ERMINNIE A.: _Myths of the Iroquois_.  (_Second Report_, Bureau
of American Ethnology; Washington, 1883.)

SMITH, JOHN: Works, 1608.  Edited by Edward Arber.  English Scholar's
Library, No. 16.  Birmingham, 1884.

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION: _Annual Reports_, 1846-1908; Washington,
1847-1909.  _Contributions to Knowledge_, vols. i.-xxiv.; Washington,
1848-1907.  _Miscellaneous Collections_, vols. i.-iv.; Washington,
1862-1910.

SNELLING, WILLIAM J.: _Tales of the North-West: Sketches of Indian Life
and Character_.  Boston, 1830.

{374}

STEVENSON, MATILDA C.: _The Zuñi Indians; their Mythology, Esoteric
Fraternities, and Ceremonies_.  (_Twenty-third Report_, Bureau of
American Ethnology; Washington, 1904.)

SWANTOM, JOHN R.: _Haida Texts and Myths_.  (_Bulletin 29_, Bureau of
American Ethnology; Washington, 1905.)

---- _Tlingit Myths and Texts_.  (_Bulletin 39_, Bureau of American
Ethnology; Washington, 1909.)

THOMAS, CYRUS: _Introduction to the Study of North American
Archæology_.  Cincinnati, 1903.

U.S. GEOLOGICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF THE TERRITORIES, F. V.
Hayden in charge.  _Bulletins_, vols. i.-vi.; Washington, 1874-82.
_Annual Reports_, vols. i.-ix.; Washington, 1867-78.

VIRCHOW, RUDOLF: _Crania ethnica americana_.  Berlin, 1892.

VOTH, H. R.: _Oraibi Summer Snake Ceremony_.  (_Publications_ of the
Field College Museum Anthropological Series, vol. iii., No. 4; Chicago,
1903.)

WAITZ, THEODOR: _Anthropologie der Naturvolker_.  4 Bd.  Leipzig.
1859-64.

WARREN, WILLIAM W.: _History of the Ojibways, based upon Traditions and
Oral Statements_.  (_Collections_ of the Minnesota Historical Society,
vol. v.; St. Paul, 1885.)

WHEELER, OLIN D.: _The Trail of Lewis and Clark, 1804-1904_.  2 vols.
New York, 1904.

WILL, G. F., AND SPINDEN, H. J.: _The Mandans: Study of their Culture,
Archæology, and Language_.  (_Papers_ of the Peabody Museum of American
Archæology and Ethnology, vol. iii., No. 4; Cambridge, Mass., 1906.)

WINSOR, JUSTIN: _Narrative and Critical History of America_.  8 vols.
Boston and New York, 1884-89.




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NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION

Workers in Indian mythology and linguistics have in some instances
created a phonology of their own for the several languages in which
they wrought.  But, generally speaking, the majority of Indian names,
both of places and individuals, should be pronounced as spelt, the
spelling being that of persons used to transcribing native diction and
as a rule representing the veritable Indian pronunciation of the word.

Among the North American Indians we find languages both harsh and soft.
Harshness produced by a clustering of consonants is peculiar to the
north-west coast of America, while the Mississippi basin and California
possess languages rich in sonorous sounds.  A slurring of terminal
syllables is peculiar to many American tongues.

The vocabularies of American languages are by no means scanty, as is
often mistakenly supposed, and their grammatical structure is intricate
and systematic.  The commonest traits in American languages are the
vagueness of demarcation between the noun and verb, the use of the
intransitive form of the verb for the adjective, and the compound
character of independent pronouns.  A large number of ideas are
expressed by means of either affixes or stem-modification.  On account
of the frequent occurrence of such elements American languages have
been classed as 'polysynthetic.'




{377}

GLOSSARY AND INDEX


A

ABNAKI, A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

ABORIGINES, AMERICAN.  Theories as to the origin of, 5-13, 17-22

ACAGCHEMEM.  A Californian people; myths of, 350-355

ADAM OF BREMEN.  And Norse voyages to America, 16

AÉ.  The first woman, in an Acagchemem creation-myth, 353

AHSONNUTLI.  Principal deity of the Navaho, called the Turquoise
Man-woman, 121-122

AKAIYAN.  A brave; in Algonquian legend of the origin of the Beaver
Medicine, 184-187

ALEUTIAN INDIANS.  Custom of, resembles that of Asiatic tribe, 11

ALGON.  A hunter; in the story of the Star-maiden, 152-156

ALGONQUIAN STOCK.  An ethnic division of the American Indians, 24-27

ALGONQUINS.  The name applied to members of the Algonquian stock, 24
_n._; tribes and distribution of, 24-25; early history, 25; an advanced
people, 26; costume of, 58; marriage-customs of, 73; creation-myth of,
107-108; belief of, respecting birds, 110; belief of, respecting
lightning, 112; and the owl, 111; and the serpent of the Great Lakes,
113; Michabo the chief deity of, 119-120; and the soul's journey after
death, 129; the festivals of, 133; dialect of the priests of, 136;
myths and legends of, 141-216; conflict with the Caniengas, 225,
subdued by the Iroquois, 227; and the King of Rattlesnakes, 248

ALLOUEZ, FATHER.  Incident connected with, related by Brinton, 100-101

AMERICA.  Origin of man in, 5-22; resemblance between tribes of, and
those of Asia, 6, 10-12; discoveries of prehistoric remains in, 7-10;
early communication between Asia and, 6,12

ANAYICOYONDI.  A goddess of the Pericues, wife of Niparaya, 355

ANIMISM, 80

ANNIMIKENS.  A brave; hunting adventure of, 55

APACHES.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock, 22; of Arizona, houses of,
47; costume of, 59; fetishes of, 89-90; and the points of the compass,
131

APALACHEES.  A tribe of the Muskhogean stock, 27

APISIRAHTS (The Morning Star).  Son of the Sun-god, in Blackfoot myth;
in the stories of Scar-face, or Poïa, 198-205

ARAPAHO.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; dwellings of, 48

ARGALL, CAPTAIN SAMUEL.  Mentioned in the story of Pocahontas, 32, 36

ARIKARA.  A tribe of the Caddoan stock, 28

ART, INDIAN, 62-63

ASGAYA GIGAGEI (Red Man).  A thunder-god of the Cherokees, 126

ASHOCHIMI.  A Californian tribe; Coyote, a deity of, 124

ASIA.  Ethnological relationship between America and, 6, 10-13

ASSINIBOINS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock, 28; their method of cooking
flesh, 11

ATHAPASCANS.  An ethnic division of the American Indians, 22-23;
costume of, 58; and the soul's journey after death, 129

ATIUS TIRÁWA.  Principal deity of the Pawnees, 122; in the story of the
Sacred Bundle, 307; in the story of the Bear-man, 308, 310, 311

ATOTARHO.  A legendary hero of the Iroquois, chieftain of the
Onondagas, 217, 225-226; Hiawatha a warrior under, 225; at first
opposes Hiawatha's federation scheme, but later joins in it, 226

ATTAJEN (Man, or Rational Being).  In Acagchemem myth, a semi-divine
being, a benefactor of the human race, 354

AUGHEY, DR.  Prehistoric remains discovered by, 8

AUZAR.  In Acagchemem myth, reputed mother of Ouiamot, 354

AWONAWILONA (Maker and Container of All).  The Zuñi creative deity,
106, 121

AZTECS.  An aboriginal American race; the Shoshoneans related to, 29



B

BABEENS.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock; carvings of, 63

BANCROFT, H. H.  On the mythological beliefs of the Californian tribes,
348-350; on the beliefs of the Tinneh, 357-358

BARTRAM, W.  On the priesthood of the Creeks, 136

BEAR DANCE.  Pawnee ceremonial; story of the originator of the, 308-311

BEAR, THE GREAT.  In Blackfoot legend of the origin of the Bear-spear,
188-190

BEAR-MAN.  The story of the, 308-311

BEAR-SPEAR.  Blackfoot legend of the origin of, 187-190

BEARSKIN-WOMAN.  The story of, 182-184

BEAVER.  I. A creative deity of the Sioux, chief of the Beaver family;
Ictinike and, 269-270, 271.  II. In Haida myth; story of the feud
between Porcupine and, 318-320

BEAVER, THE GREAT (Quah-beet).  Algonquian totem-deity; in myth of
Glooskap and Malsum, 142; in legend of origin of the Beaver Medicine,
185-187

BEAVER, LITTLE.  In legend of origin of the Beaver Medicine, 185-187

BEAVER MEDICINE.  Legend of the origin of, 184-187

BEAVER PEOPLE.  The beavers personified, in Haida myth; in the story of
Beaver and Porcupine, 318-320

BIG WATER.  The Pacific Ocean; in the story of Scar-face, 203

BIRD, THE.  In Indian mythology, 109-111

BLACK TORTOISE, TOMB OF THE.  An earth-mound, 19-20

BLACKFEET.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 24, 25; legends of,
182-184, 187-190, 193-212; the Sun Dance of, 204; Nápi, the creative
deity of, 205

BLUE JAY.  A mischievous totem-deity of the Chinooks, 124-125, 323;
stories of, and his sister Ioi, 323-327; and the Supernatural People,
323-324, 327, 329-332, 339-340; in the story of Stik[)u]a, 342-348

BOAS, FRANZ.  Extract from version of the Coyote myth related by, 124

BOSCANA, FATHER GERÓNIMO.  On the beliefs of Californian tribes, 350-354

BOURBEUSE RIVER.  Prehistoric remains discovered at, 7

BOURKE, J. G.  Description of an Apache fetish by, 89-90; on
'phylacteries' (fetishes), 90

BOY MAGICIAN.  The story of the, 238-242

BRÉBEUF, FATHER.  Incident connected with, related by Brinton, 100; and
the after-life of the Indians, 130

BRINTON, D. G.  On the Shoshoneans, 29; extract from translation of the
_Wallum-Olum_ by, 77-78; on the religion of the Indians, 97-101; on
Indian 'good' and 'bad' gods, 104-105; on Indian veneration of the
eagle, 110-111

BRUYAS, FATHER.  Mentioned, 104

BUFFALO DANCE.  A festival of the Mandans, 134-135

BUFFALO-STEALER.  The legend of, 208-212

BUNDLES, SACRED.  Collections of articles supposed to possess magical
potency, 92, 308

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY.  Quotations from _Bulletins_ of, 17, 21,
45-49, 55-59

BURIAL CUSTOMS, INDIAN, 128

BUSK.  A contraction for Pushkita, name of a Creek festival, 133-134

BWOINAIS.  A Chippeway warrior; war-songs of, 71-72



C

CADDO.  I. An ethnic division of the American Indians, 28, 304.  II. A
tribe forming a part of the stock of the same name, 28

CAHROCS.  A Californian tribe; deities of, 349-350

'CALAVERAS' SKULL.  Prehistoric relic; discovery of, 8

CALIFORNIA.  Prehistoric remains discovered in, 8; the tribes of,
diversity among, 348; mythological beliefs of the tribes of, 348-356

CANIENGAS.  One of the two political divisions of the Iroquois family,
225

CARVER, CAPTAIN JONATHAN.  On Sioux methods of reckoning time, 132

CATLIN, G.  On the Pipe-stone Quarry, 116, 117-118

CAYUGAS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 224

CHÁCOPEE, or WHITE FEATHER.  A Sioux hero; the story of, 296-301

CHAREYA (The Old Man Above).  Deity of the Cahrocs, 350

CHARLEVOIX, P.  On incident relating to origin of the Indians, 12

CHEROKEES.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 23; as mound-builders, 21;
and the eagle, 111; and the owl, 111; hunter- and thunder-gods of,
125-126; and the points of the compass, 131; and the priesthood, 136;
dialect of the priesthood of, 136; subdued by the Iroquois, 227; the
Iroquois attacks on, 246; and the King of Rattlesnakes, 248; their
legend of the origin of medicine, 249-251

CHEYENNE.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; the great tribal fetish
of, 91

CHICKASAWS.  A tribe of the Muskhogean stock, 27; and earth-mounds, 21

CHILKAT.  A tribe of the Thlingit stock; costume of, 58

CHIMPSEYANS.  An ethnic division of the American Indians; carvings of,
63

CHINIGCHINICH (Almighty).  Deity of the Acagchemems, called also
Ouiamot, 352, 354-355

CHINOOKS.  A tribe of the Chinookan stock, 322; Coyote a principal
deity of, 123, 124; Blue Jay a deity of, 124; mode of burial of, 128;
belief of, regarding the soul, 129; cranial deformation among, 322;
myths of, 322-348; story of their contests with the Supernatural
People, 329-332

CHIPPEWAYS, or OJIBWAYS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25;
dwellings of, 48; carvings of, 63; called 'Pillagers,' 68; war-customs
of, 68-69; a legend of, 152-156; Manabozho (or Michabo a demi-god of,
223

CHOCTAWS.  A tribe of the Muskhogean stock, 27; cranial deformation
among, 27; dialect of the priesthood of, 136

CHURCH, CAPTAIN BENJAMIN.  One of the early settlers; his methods in
fighting the Indians, 31

CHUTSAIN.  A malevolent spirit of the Tinneh, 358

CITY OF THE MISTS.  Home of Po-shai-an-K'ia, the father of the Zuñi
'medicine' societies, 95

CLALLAMS.  A tribe of the Salish stock; carvings of, 63

CLARKE, J.  On the Pipe-stone Quarry, 116-117

CLIFF- AND ROCK-DWELLINGS, 48-49

CLOUD-CARRIER.  The story of, 156-159

COCOPA.  A tribe of the Yuman stock; dwellings of, 47; costume of, 59

COLORADO.  Prehistoric remains discovered in, 8

COLOURS.  The Indians and, 60-62

COLUMBUS.  And the Discovery, 1, 2

COMANCHES.  A tribe of the Shoshonean stock, 28; dwellings of, 48

COMMUNITY HOUSES, 45-47

COMPASS, POINTS OF THE.  Significance to the Indians, 131

CONANT, A. J.  On the group of earth-mounds in Minnesota, 20

CONQUEROR, THE.  A deity mentioned in the myth of Coyote and Kodoyanpe,
123

COSTUME OF THE INDIANS, 55-59

COUNTRY OF THE GHOSTS.  Same as Spirit-land, _which see_

COYOTE.  _See_ Italapas

COYOTE PEOPLE, THE GREAT.  A Zuñi clan, 95-96

CRANIAL DEFORMATION.  Practised among the Muskhogeans, 27; among the
Choctaws, 27; among the Chinooks, 322

CREATION-MYTHS, 106-109, 350-353

CREEKS.  A tribe of the Muskhogean stock, 27; and earth-mounds, 21; and
the eagle, no; and the owl, 111; Esaugetuh Emissee, the chief deity of,
122; the Pushkita, a festival of, 133-134; the priests of, 136

CREES.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; legend of origin of their
Young Dog Dance, 190-193; how they caught eagles, 190-191

CROWS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock; in a Blackfoot legend, 193-196



D

DAKOTA.  An ethnic division of the American Indians, same as Sioux,
_which see_

DAY OF THE COUNCIL OF THE FETISHES.  A Zuñi fetish festival, 96

DAY-AND-NIGHT MYTH.  A Blackfoot, 205-208

DEKANEWIDAH.  A Mohawk chieftain; assists Hiawatha in his federation
scheme, 226

DELAWARES.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; in the story of
Frances Slocum, 37-38, 41

DÉNÉ.  Same as Tinneh, _which see_

DEVIL.  In Indian mythology, 349

DEVIL DANCES, 135

DEVIL'S CASTLE.  Place in Siskiyou, California; regarded by natives as
abode of malignant spirits, 349

DEVIL-FISH.  Supernatural beings in Haida myth; story of an Indian and
the daughter of a, 320-321

DEVOURING HILL.  The story of the Rabbit and the, 302-303

DICKSON, DR.  Discovery of prehistoric remains by, 7

DIGHTON WRITING ROCK, 16

DJ[=U].  A river mentioned in Haida myth, 314

DOGRIB INDIANS.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock; myth of
heaven-climber resembles that of Ugrian tribes of Asia, 11

DROWNED CHILD.  The story of the, 285-287

DWELLINGS, INDIAN, 45-49



E

EAGLE.  Indian veneration for, 110-111

EJONI.  The first man, in an Acagchemem creation-myth, 353

ELEGANT.  An Indian beau; in the story of Handsome, 160-162

ENO (Thief and Cannibal).  A name of Coyote among the Acagchemem
tribes, 351

ES-TONEA-PESTA (The Lord of Cold Weather).  In the story of the
Snow-lodge, 151-152

ESAUGETUH EMISSEE (Master of Breath).  Supreme deity of the Muskhogees,
122; in creation-myth, 108

EYACQUE (Sub-captain).  A name of Coyote among the Acagchemem tribes,
351



F

FACE-PAINTING, 59-62

FAIRY WIVES.  The story of the, 170-175

FEATHER-WOMAN.  A beautiful maiden; in the legend of Poïa, 200-203

FEATHER-WORK.  Indian skill in, 63

FESTIVALS, INDIAN, 133-135

FETISHISM.  Swanton on totemism and, 84-85; origin and nature of the
fetish, 87-89; Apache fetishes, 89-90; Iroquoian fetishes, 91; Huron
fetishes, 91; Algonquian fetishes, 91; the Cheyenne tribal fetish, 91;
Hidatsa fetishes, 92; Siouan fetishes, 92; Hopi fetishes, 92-93; Zuñi
fetishism, 93-97; fetishism associated with totemism, 93

FEWKES, J. W.  And fetishes of the Hopi, 92

FINE-WEATHER-WOMAN.  Haida storm-deity; in the myth of the origin of
certain demi-gods, 314; origin of, as the mother of Sîñ, 314-316

FIVE NATIONS, THE.  A federation of the Iroquois, called also the Grand
League, 23, 24; the tribes composing, 23, 224-225; Hiawatha the founder
of the league, 23; influence upon European history, 223, 227; called
also Six Nations and Seven Nations, 224; Hiawatha's early efforts
toward federation, 225; the federation inaugurated, and completed, 226;
growth of the power of, 227; the Peace Queen appointed by, 263; the
office of Peace Queen abolished, 265

FLATHEADS.  Name applied to the Choctaws by the whites, 27

FLETCHER, Miss A. C.  On dwellings of the Omaha, 48

FLYING SQUIRREL.  A creative deity of the Sioux; Ictinike and, 271

FOXES.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25, 71

FRIENDLY SKELETON.  The story of the, 242-246

FUTURE LIFE.  The Indian idea of, 127



G

GÉBELIN, COURT DE.  And the Dighton Writing Rock, 16

GENETASKA.  A Peace Queen; the legend of, 262-265

GHOST PEOPLE.  The souls of the dead, the inhabitants of Spirit-land,
129, 130; Ioi and Blue Jay among, 324-326, 327

GHOST-LAND.  Same as Spirit-land, _which see_

GILA-SONORA.  An ethnic division of the American Indians; costume of, 59

GITSHE IAWBA.  A Chippeway brave; hunting exploit of, 54-55

GLOOSKAP (The Liar).  A creative deity of the Algonquins, twin with
Malsum, 141; his contest with Malsum, 141-142; resembles the
Scandinavian Balder, 142; creates man, 143; contest with Win-pe,
143-144; his gifts to man, 144-145; and Wasis, the baby, 145-146;
leaves the earth, 146-147; a sun-god, 147; and Summer and Winter,
147-149; his 'wig-wam,' 149

GOD.  The Indian idea of, 101

GODS, INDIAN.  Character of, 103-105; description of the principal,
118-126

GRAND COUNCIL of the Five Nations, 224, 226

GRAND LEAGUE, or KAYANERENH KOWA.  A federation of the Iroquois, known
also as the Five Nations.  _See under_ Five Nations

GREAT DOG.  A totem-deity, 137

GREAT EAGLE.  A totem-deity, 137

GREAT HEAD.  A malevolent being, in Iroquois myth; a legend of, 232-235

GREAT MAN.  Name for a chief deity among Californian tribes, 348

GREAT SPIRIT THE, or MANITO.  Supreme Indian deity; and the origin of
smoking, 116

GREAT WATER.  The Pacific; in the story of the Snake-wife, 290, 292

GREATEST FOOL.  Supernatural being in Haida myth; in the story of
Master-carpenter and South-east, 317

GREENLAND.  Early voyages from, to America, 13, 14-16



H

HAIDA.  A tribe of the Skittagetan stock; houses of, 46-47; myths and
legends of, 312-321

HAMPTON INSTITUTE.  And education of the Indians, 79

HANDSOME.  A beautiful maiden; the story of, 159-162

HAOKAH.  Thunder-god of the Sioux, 125

'HARRYING OF HADES.'  American Indian myth provides examples of, 332,
340-341

HEALING WATERS.  The legend of the, 257-260

HELLU-LAND (Land of Flat Stones).  In legend of Norse voyage to
America, 14, 15

HERBERT, SIR THOMAS.  His _Travels_ quoted, 4-5

HERJULFSON, BIARNE.  And the Norse discovery of America, 13-14

HIAWATHA (more properly HAI-EN-WAT-HA; = He who seeks the Wampum-belt).
A legendary hero of the Iroquois, 217, 223-228; represented also as of
Algonquian race, 223; effect of Longfellow's poem on the history of,
223; Longfellow's confusion in identity of, 223; historical basis for
the legends, 223; founder of the League of the Five Nations, 223-224; a
warrior under Atotarho, 225; his plans for federation, 225; adopted
into the Mohawk tribe, 226; his scheme consummated, 226

HIDATSA.  A tribe of the Sioux; fetishes of, 92; have no belief in a
devil or hell, 104

HI'NUN.  Thunder-god of the Iroquois, 217; myths relating to, 218-222;
great veneration for, 222

HOBBAMOCK, Or HOBBAMOQUI (Great).  Beneficent Indian deity, 105

HOFFMANN, W. J.  On Algonquian fetishes, 91

HOGAN.  An Indian dwelling, 49

HOPI, or MOQUI.  A tribe of the Shoshonean stock; as cotton-weavers,
56, 73; fetishes of, 92-93; festivals of, 135

HUNTING, INDIAN, 50-55

HUPA.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock; costume of, 59; method of
reckoning age, 133

HURONS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 23; marriage among, 73;
fetishes of, 91; the dove regarded as sacred by, 111; and the soul's
journey after death, 129; originally one people with the Iroquois, 224;
in the conflict between the Caniengas and Algonquins, 225; war with the
Onondagas, 225; annihilated by the Iroquois, 227; a legend of, 248



I

ICE-COUNTRY.  In Algonquian myth, 147

ICTINIKE.  An evil spirit, in Sioux myth; adventures of, 266-271

ILLINOIS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock; in a Seneca legend, 236-238

'INDIAN.'  The name wrongly applied to the North American races, 1

INDIANA.  Primitive implements found in, 7; earth-mounds found in, 17,
18

INDIANS, NORTH AMERICAN.  The theory that they came from the East, 1-2;
early controversy as to origin of, 2-3; identified with the lost Ten
Tribes, 3; other theories of origin of, 4; theory of their Welsh
origin, 4-5; origination of American man in the Old World, 5-6;
scientific data relating to origin of, 5-13, 17-22; affinities with
Siberian peoples, 10-12; probably migrants from Asia, 12-13; ethnic
divisions of, 22-29; geographical distribution of the tribes of, 22-29;
industry of, 26; early wars between whites and, 29-31; early
relationship with whites, 29-30; deportation of, as slaves, 31;
confinement of, to 'reservations,' 31-32; stories of whites and, 32-45;
and kidnapping of white children, 36-45; dwellings of, 45-49; tribal
law and custom among, 50; hunting among, 50-55; dress of, 55-59; and
face-painting, 59-62; and colours, 60-62; art of, 62-63; war-customs
of, 63-72; position of women among, 72-73; marriage among, 73; and
child-life, 73-74; and totemism, 74-76, 80-87; picture-writing among,
76-78; enlightenment of, 79, 360; and fetishism, 87-97; and religion,
97-105, 140; ideas of God, 101; character of gods of, 103-105;
creation-myths of, 106-109; serpent- and bird-worship among, 109-115;
and the use of tobacco, 115-118; the gods of, 118-126; and ideas of a
future life, 127-128; burial customs of, 128; and the soul's journey
after death, 129; and the spirit-world, 129-130, 139-140; reverence for
the four points of the compass, 131; methods of time-reckoning,
131-133; festivals of, 132, 133-135; the medicine-men of, 135-140;
original character of the mythologies of, 359; worthiness of the race,
359-360

IOI.  A deity of the Chinooks, sister of Blue Jay; stories of, 323-327

IOSKEHA (White One).  One of the twin-gods of the Iroquois, 121

IOWA.  I. The State; prehistoric remains discovered in, 8.  II. A tribe
of the Sioux stock, 266; legends of, 266-271

IROQUOIS (Real Adders).  An ethnic division of the American Indians,
called also Long House People, 23-24, 224; the Five Nations of, 23, 24,
223-227; community houses of, 45; costume of, 58; marriage customs of,
73; name for fetish, 85; and the serpent of the Great Lakes, 113; the
twin-gods of, 121; and the soul's journey after death, 129; myths and
legends of, 217-265; Hi'nun, the chief deity of, 217; Hiawatha, a
mythical hero of, 217; originally one people with the Hurons, 224; the
two political branches of, 224-225; growth of the power of, 227

IROQUOIS CONFEDERACY.  _See_ Five Nations

ISLAND OF THE BLESSED.  In the story of the Spirit-bride, 163-165

ITALAPAS or ITALAPATE, (Coyote).  A principal deity of the Chinooks and
Californian tribes, 123-124, 350; in the myth of Ouiot, 351



J

JAPAZAWS.  A chief, 32

JEWS.  American aborigines identified with, 3-4



K

KATCINA.  A clan of the Hopi tribe, and the tribal festivals, 135

KAYANERENH KOWA.  The Grand League, or Five Nations, a federation of
the Troquois.  _See under_ Five Nations

KENTUCKY.  Earth-mounds found in, 18

KEWAWKQU'.  A race of giants and magicians, in Algonquian myth;
conquered by Glooskap, 145

KICHAI.  A tribe of the Caddoan stock, 28

KICKAPOOS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

KIDNAPPING by Indians, 36; a story of, 37-45

KIEHTAN.  Beneficent Indian deity, 105

KING OF GRUBS.  In the myth of the Thunderers, 222

KING OF RATTLESNAKES.  The legend of, 248

KING PHILIP'S WAR, 30-31

KINGFISHER.  A creative deity of the Sioux; Ictinike and, 271

KINGSBOROUGH, LORD.  And the identity of the American aborigines, 3

KIOWA.  An ethnic division of the American Indians; dwellings of, 48;
picture-writing records of, 77; the year of, 132

KITTANITOWIT.  A manufactured name for the supreme Indian deity, 105

KOCH, DR.  Prehistoric remains discovered by, 7

KODOYANPE.  Principal deity of the Maidu, 123, 124

KOHL, J. G.  On Indian face-painting, 59-62

KOKOMIKIS.  The Moon-goddess, wife of the Sun-god; in the stories of
Scar-face, 199-204

KOLUSCHES.  An ethnic division of the American Indians; customs of,
resemble those of Asiatic tribes, 10-11

KOOTENAY.  An ethnic division of the American Indians; Coyote the
creative deity of, 124

KUM.  A semi-subterranean lodge of the Maidu, 47

KUTOYIS (Drop of Blood).  A hero in Algonquian myth; legends of, 212-216



L

LAKE SUPERIOR.  Prehistoric remains discovered in district of, 8

LAND OF THE SUN.  Indian abode of bliss, 127

LAND OF THE SUPERNATURAL PEOPLE.  Region inhabited by a semi-divine
race, 129-130; in Chinook myth, 323-324, 327-332, 337-338

LANGUAGE.  Resemblance between that of American and Asiatic tribes, 12;
the basis of ethnic classification of American tribes, 22

LEIF THE LUCKY.  Legend of voyage of, to America, 14-15

LELAND, C. G.  On Algonquian mythology, 143

LENI-LENÂPÉ.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock; the _Wallum-Olum_ of,
77-78

LIGHTNING.  Indian belief regarding, 111-112

LIPANS.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock, 22

LITTLE DEER.  Chief of the Deer tribe, in Cherokee myth.  249, 250

LITTLE MEN.  Twin thunder-gods of the Cherokees, 126

LONE-DOG WINTER-COUNT.  A picture-writing chronicle of the Dakota, 77

LONG HOUSE PEOPLE.  A name applied to the Iroquois, 224, 227

LONGFELLOW, H. W.  And the identity of Hiawatha, 223

LORD OF THE DEAD.  Indian deity; the owl sometimes represented as the
attendant of, 112

LOUCHEUX.  A division of the Tinneh stock; the myth of the moon-god of,
357-358

LOX, or LOKI.  Algonquian deity, a reincarnation of Malsum, 143;
reminiscent of the Scandinavian Loki, 143; in the story of the Fairy
Wives, 174-175

LYELL, SIR CHARLES.  On discovery of prehistoric remains, 7



M

MA-CON-A-QUA.  The Indian name of Frances Slocum, 44

MADOC.  Legend of, 4

MAIDU.  A Californian tribe; dwellings of, 47; creation-myth of, 123;
Coyote and Kodoyanpe deities of, 123; the seasons of, 133

MAIZE.  Chippeway story of the origin of, 180-182

MAKER-OF-THE-THICK-SEA-MIST.  Haida deity; in the story of
Master-carpenter and South-east, 318

MALICIOUS MOTHER-IN-LAW.  Story of the, 176-180

MALSUM (The Wolf).  A malignant creative deity of the Algonquins, twin
with Glooskap, 141-143, 149; contest with Glooskap, 141-142; appears
later in Algonquian myth as Lox, or Loki, 143; future conflict with
Glooskap, 149

MAN.  Origin of, in America, 5-22

MANABOZHO.  Same as Michabo, 11, _which see_

MANDANS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock; community houses of, 45;
creation-myth of, 109; the dove regarded as sacred by, 112; the Buffalo
Dance, a festival of, 134-135

MANITO (The Great Spirit).  I. Supreme deity of the Algonquins,
probably same as Michabo; and the lightning, 112.  II. A general term
for a potent spirit or the supernatural among the Algonquins and Sioux,
114.  III. Supreme deity of the Iroquois; in the legend of the Healing
Waters, 257-260

MARK-LAND (Wood-land).  In legend of the Norse voyage to America, 14, 15

MARRIAGE among the Indians, 73

MARTEN.  An idle brave; in the story of the Fairy Wives, 170-172

MASON, JOHN.  One of the early settlers; and the feud with the Pequots,
30

MASTER OF LIFE.  In the story of the Spirit-bride, 164

MASTER-CARPENTER.  A supernatural being, in Haida myth; story of his
contest with South-east, 316-318

MEDA.  A 'medicine' society of the Algonquins, 119

MEDA CHANT.  An Algonquian religious ceremony, 114

MEDECOLIN.  Sorcerers, in Algonquian myth; conquered by Glooskap, 145

MEDICINE-MEN, or SHAMANS, 135-140; as priests, 136; as healers,
136-138; 'journeys' of, to Spirit-land, 139-140; instituted by Attajen,
354

'MEDICINE.'  A term signifying magical potency, usually of a healing
order; Seneca legend of the origin of, 230-232; Cherokee legend of the
origin of curative medicine, 249-251

MEN-SERPENTS.  The story of the, 273-275

MENOMINEES.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

MIAMI.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock; in the story of Frances
Slocum, 40, 41

MICE.  Two supernatural beings in Chinook myth, 339-340

MICHABO (The Great Hare).  I. Supreme deity of the Algonquins, probably
same as Manito, 119-120; in creation-myth, 107-108.  II. A demi-god of
the Ojibways, called also Manabozho; confusion of, with Hiawatha, 223

MICMACS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; subdued by the Iroquois,
227

MILKY WAY.  Called the Wolf-trail by the Indians, 204

MINAS, LAKE.  In Nova Scotia; Glooskap leaves the earth upon, 146

MINNESOTA.  Primitive implements found in, 7; earth-mounds found in,
18, 19-20

MINNETAREES.  A tribe of the Hidatsa stock; creation-myth of, 109

'MIOCENE BRIDGE.'  And the origin of man in America, 6

MOHAVE.  A tribe of the Yuman stock; costume of, 59

MOHAWKS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 24, 224, 225; and the
twin-gods myth of the Iroquois, 121; Hiawatha may have belonged to,
223, 226; Hiawatha adopted into, 226

MOHEGANS.  Same as Mohicans, _which see_

MOHICANS, or MOHEGANS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; a
community house of, 45; subdued by the Iroquois, 227

MON-DA-MIN.  The maize-plant; story of the origin of, 180-182

MONTAGNAIS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

MOON-GODDESS.  _See_ Kokomikis

MOOSE.  A brave, a great hunter; in the story of the Fairy Wives,
170-172

MOOWIS.  A counterfeit brave; in the story of Elegant and Handsome,
161-162

MOQUI.  Same as Hopi, _which see_

MORGAN, L.  On Indian community houses, 45-46

MORNING STAR.  _See_ Apisirahts

MOUNDS.  Prehistoric earthen erections found in America, 17-22; in
animal form, 17-18; purpose of, 18; contents of, 18-19, 21; description
of a group, 19-20; the builders of, 20-21; age of, 21-22

MUSK-RAT.  A creative deity of the Sioux; Ictinike and, 270-271

MUSKHOGEANS.  An ethnic division of the American Indians, 27; costume
of, 58; marriage-customs of, 73; creation-myth of, 108



N

NAKOTAT.  A Chinook village; in the myth of Stik[)u]a, 341, 345

NANTAQUAUS.  Son of the chief Powhatan, 33

NANTENA.  Spirits or fairies, in Tinneh mythology, 358

NÁPI.  The creative deity of the Blackfeet; in a day-and-night legend,
205, 208; in the legend of Buffalo-stealer, 208-212

NARRAGANSETS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

NARVAEZ, PANFILO DE.  And the Muskhogean people, 27

NATCHEZ.  I. The city; discoveries of prehistoric remains at, 7.  II. A
tribe of the so-called Natchesan stock; and earth-mounds, 21; and the
eagle, 112

NAVAHO.  A tribe of the Athapascan stock, 22; a dwelling of, 49;
costume of, 59; belief of, respecting birds and the winds, 110;
Ahsonnutli the chief deity of, 121-122; belief of, respecting the soul,
129; and the points of the compass, 131

NEBRASKA.  Prehistoric remains discovered in, 8

NEKUMONTA.  An Iroquois brave; in the legend of the Healing Waters,
257-260

NEMISSA.  A Star-maiden; in the story of Cloud-carrier, 156-159

NEW ORLEANS.  Prehistoric remains discovered at, 7

NEW YORK.  State of; conflict between Indians and the early settlers
in, 30

NEZ PERCÉS.  A tribe of the Sahaptian stock; dwellings of, 47

NIPARAYA.  A supreme deity of the Pericues, 355-356

NIPMUCS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25

NOCUMA.  A creative deity of the Acagchemems, 352-353

NOKAY.  A noted Chippeway hunter; hunting exploit of, 54

NOOTKAS.  A tribe of the Nootka-Columbia stock; dwellings of, 47;
Quahootze, a deity of, 100

NOPATSIS.  A brave; in the legend of the origin of the Beaver Medicine,
184-187

NORSEMEN.  Discovery of America by, 13-14, 16; early voyages of, to
America, 14-16; left no traces of their occupation, 16

NOTTOWAYS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 23

NUNNE CHAHA.  A hill mentioned in the Muskhogean creation-myth, 108



O

OHIO.  I. The State; primitive implements found in, 7; earth-mounds
found in, 17, 18.  II. The river; attempt to maintain as Indian
boundary, 25

OJIBWAYS.  Same as Chippeways, _which see_

OKINAI.  In the story of Bearskin-woman, 183-184

OKULAM (Noise of Surge).  Name given to giant in Chinook myth of the
Thunderer, 335

OLCHONES.  A Californian tribe; sun identified with supreme deity by,
350

OLD MAN ABOVE.  I. Name for supreme deity among Californian tribes,
348.  II. The Chareya of the Cahrocs, 350

OLD WHITE BEAR.  Chief of the Bear tribe, in Cherokee myth, 249

OMAHAS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock; dwellings of, 48; Ictinike a
war-god of, 266

ONE ABOVE.  Name for supreme deity among Californian tribes, 348

ONEIDAS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 24, 224, 225; inaugurate the
federation of the Five Nations, 226

ONNIONT.  A mythological serpent, 91

ONONDAGAS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 224; Hiawatha probably
belonged to, 223; war with Caniengas and Hurons, 225; Atotarho a chief
of, 225; and Hiawatha's federation scheme, 226

ORENDA.  Magical power, 112

OSAGES.  A tribe probably of the Algonquian stock; dwellings of, 48

OTTER-HEART.  The story of, 165-170

OUIAMOT.  Same as Chinigchinich, _which see_

OUIOT (Dominator).  I. A demi-god of the Acagchemems, 351-352.  II. A
tyrannous ruler, 353-354

OWL, THE.  Indian veneration for, 113



P

PAHE-WATHAHUNI (The Devouring Hill).  The story of the Rabbit and,
302-303

PAIUTES.  A tribe of the Yunian stock; houses of, 47

PALMER, CAPTAIN G.  Work by, quoted, 3-4

PAMOLA.  An evil spirit, in Algonquian myth; conquered by Glooskap, 145

PAWNEES.  A confederacy of tribes of the Caddoan stock, 28, 304; and
the tribal fetish of the Cheyenne, 91; and thunder, 112; Atius Tiráwa,
the chief deity of, 122; and the Young Dog Dance, 190; subdued by the
Iroquois, 227; strong religious sense of, 304; myths and legends of,
304-311; story of the origin of their Sacred Bundle, 304-308

PAYNE, E. J.  On resemblance of customs of American and Asiatic tribes,
10-11

PEACE QUEEN.  A maiden appointed by the Five Nations to be arbiter of
quarrels; the legend of Genetaska the, 262-265; the office abolished,
265

PEBBLE-RATTLER.  Haida wind-deity; in the story of Master-carpenter and
South-east, 318

PEQUOTS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock; feud between the whites and,
30

PERICUES.  A Californian tribe; the hostile divinities of, 355-356

PETIT ANSE.  Place in Louisiana; prehistoric remains discovered at, 7

PHILIP.  An Indian chief, called 'King Philip'; war of, with the
whites, 30-31

PICTURE-WRITING, INDIAN, 76-78

PIGMIES.  Iroquois belief in a race of, 229; a legend of, 246-248;
perhaps actually a prehistoric American race, 248

PIMAS.  A tribe of the Pueblo stock; costume of, 59; method of keeping
records, 133

PIPE-STONE QUARRY.  Source of the Indian's pipe; description of, 116-118

PLAGUE DEMON.  Iroquois deity, 264

PLAINS INDIANS.  Costume of, 58; artistic work of, 62; rank among,
indicated by feathers worn, 63; marriage among, 73

POCAHONTAS.  Daughter of the chief Powhatan; the story of, 32-36

POÏA (Scar-face).  The legends of, 196-205

PORCUPINE.  One of the Porcupine People, in Haida myth; story of the
conflict between Beaver and, 318-320

PO-SHAI-AN-K'IA.  A Zuñi deity, father of the 'medicine' societies, 95;
in creation-myth, 107

POWELL, CAPTAIN NATHANIEL.  And the story of Pocahontas, 32-36

POWERS, STEPHEN.  On evil spirits in Indian mythology, 349-350

POWHATAN.  A chief, father of Pocahontas, 32, 33

POWHATANS.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; belief of, respecting
birds, 110.

PRATT, CAPTAIN R. H.  His school for the education of Indian children,
79

PREHISTORIC REMAINS.  Discoveries of, 7-10

PREY BROTHERS.  A priesthood of the Zuñi, 96

PREY-GODS.  Deities of the Zuñi, 94-97

PRIESTHOOD of the Indian tribes, 135-136

PRINCE OF SERPENTS.  A deity who dwelt in the Great Lakes, 112, 113

PUEBLOS.  I. An ethnic division of the American Indians; buildings of,
47, 49; costume of, 57, 59; artistic work of, 63; festivals of, 135.
II. Indian community houses, 46, 48

PUSHKITA.  A festival of the Creeks, 134



Q

QUAAYAYP.  A son of the Pericue deity Niparaya, 355

QUAH-BEET (Great Beaver).  Algonquian totem-deity; in myth of Glooskap
and Malsum, 142

QUAHOOTZE.  Deity of the Nootkas, 100

QUAPAWS.  A tribe of the Caddoan stock; and earth-mounds, 21



R

RABBIT.  Personified animal in Sioux myth; Ictinike and, 266-268; and
the Sun, 301-302; and Pahe-Wathahuni, the Devouring Hill, 302-303

RAFN, K. C.  Cited, 14; and the Dighton Writing Rock, 16

RATTLESNAKE.  Indian regard for the, 113-115

RAVEN.  Personification in Chinook myth; in the story of Stik[)u]a,
342-348

RED PIPE-STONE ROCK.  The first pipe made at, 116

RED-STORM-CLOUD.  A Haida wind-deity; in the story of Master-carpenter
and South-east, 317

RESERVATIONS, INDIAN, 31-32

RESURRECTION.  Indian belief in, 128

ROBIN.  A deity of the Chinooks, brother of Blue Jay, 125, 330, 332

ROGEL, FATHER.  Incident connected with his missionary work, 105

ROLFE, JOHN.  Husband of Pocahontas, 32

ROOT-DIGGERS.  A tribe of the Shoshonean stock, 28



S

SACRED BUNDLE.  The story of the, 304-308

SACRED OTTER.  A hunter; in the story of the Snow-lodge, 150-152

SALISH INDIANS.  A tribe probably of the Algonquian stock; houses of,
47; costume of, 58

SALMON.  The story of, 282-285

SANTEES.  A tribe of the Siouan stock, 28

SASSACUS.  Pequot chief; his village destroyed, 30

SAUKS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock, 71

SAYADIO.  A young Wyandot brave; the legend of, 260-262

SCALPING.  Nature of the act, 66; preservation of scalps, 67

SCAR-FACE.  _See_ Poïa

SCHOOLCRAFT, H. R.  On Indian hunting, 52-55; on Indian warfare, 66-72;
on the Indian's use of tobacco, and his pipe, 115-118; and the identity
of Hiawatha, 223

SECOTAN.  An Indian village in North Carolina, 48

SEMINOLES.  A tribe of the Muskhogean stock, 27; costume of, 58

SENECAS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 225, 226; the so-called, in
Oklahoma, 24; join the Grand League, 226; story of the origin of the
'medicine' of, 230-232; legend of, 236-238

SERPENT, THE.  In Indian mythology, 109-111, 114; worship of, 112-114;
reverence paid to, 135

SHADOW-LAND.  Same as Spirit-land, _which see_

SHANEWIS.  Wife of Nekumonta; in the legend of the Healing Waters,
257-260

SHAWNEES.  A tribe of the Algonquian stock, 25; as mound-builders, 21;
and the King of Rattlesnakes, 248

SHOSHONEANS (Snakes).  An ethnic division of the American Indians,
28-29; costume of, 59

SHUSHWAP INDIANS.  A Salish tribe; Coyote the creative deity of, 124

SILVER CHAIN.  Name applied to the Grand Council of the league of the
Five Nations, 226

SÎÑ.  Sky-god and principal deity of the Haida; myth of the incarnation
of, 314-316

SINNEKES.  One of the two political divisions of the Iroquois, 224, 225

SIOUX, or DAKOTA.  An ethnic division of the American Indians, 28, 266;
superstition of, resembles that of the Itelmians of Kamchatka, 11;
dwellings of, 48; face-painting among, 61-62; war-customs of, 68;
fetishes of, 92; belief of, respecting the winds, 110; and the eagle,
111; and the rattlesnake, 114; Haokah, the chief thunder-god of, 125;
Waukheon, a thunder-god of, 126; Unktahe, the water-god of, 126; and
the soul's journey after death, 129; the year of, 132; methods of
time-reckoning of, 132-133; myths and legends of, 266-303

SIROUT (Handful of Tobacco).  One of the first men, in an Acagchemem
creation-myth, 353

SITS-BY-THE-DOOR.  The story of, 193-196

SKRÆLINGR.  Name given by Norsemen to American natives, 13; attack the
early Norse voyagers, 15

SKULL, DEFORMATION OF THE.  Practised by the Muskhogean peoples,
chiefly by Choctaws, 27; among the Chinooks, 322

SKY-COUNTRY.  In a version of the story of Poïa, 201-205

SKY-GOD.  Of the Haida--_see_ Sîñ

SLOCUM, FRANCES.  The story of, 37-45

SMOKE-EATER.  A being with magical powers, in Chinook myth, 330

SMOKING among the Indians, 115-118; legend of the origin of, 116;
importance of, in Indian life, 131

SNAKE-OGRE.  The story of the, 278-282

SNAKE-WIFE.  The story of the, 287-292

SNOW-LODGE.  The story of the, 149-152

SOKUMAPI.  A young brave; in Blackfoot story of the origin of the
Bear-spear, 187-190

SOTO, HERNANDO DE.  And the Muskhogean people, 27

SOUL.  The journey of the, after death, in Indian belief, 129

SOULS, THE LAND OF.  In the legend of Sayadio, 260-261

SOUTH-EAST.  A Haida deity representing the south-east wind; contest
of, with Master-carpenter, 316-318

SPIDER MAN.  In the legend of Poïa, 201, 202

SPIRIT-BRIDE.  The story of the, 162-165

SPIRIT-LAND.  Abode of mortals after death, 129-130; the lesser soul of
sick persons taken to, 129, 139-140; 'visits' of medicine-men to,
139-140; in the story of the Spirit-bride, 162-165; in the story of
Sayadio, 260-261; Ioi and Blue Jay in, 324-326

SQA-I.  A town in the Queen Charlotte Islands; the contest of
Master-carpenter and South-east at, 316-318

SQUIER, E. G.  And the earth-mounds, 18

STAR-BOY.  First name of Poïa, or Scar-face, 201, 203

STAR-COUNTRY, THE.  In the story of Algon, 155-156; in the story of
Cloud-carrier, 156-159; in the story of the Fairy Wives, 173

STAR-MAIDEN.  The story of the, 152-156

STIK[=U]A.  Wife of Blue Jay; the story of, 341-348

STONE GIANTESS.  The story of the, 254-257

STONE GIANTS.  A malignant race, in Iroquois myth, 217, 228-229, 255-257

STYLES, DR.  And the Dighton Writing Rock, 16

SUMMER.  Queen of the Elves of Light, in Algonquian myth; Glooskap and,
148-149

SUN, THE.  In Indian creation-myth, 106; worship of, 113, 350; in Sioux
myth, the Rabbit and, 301-302

SUN DANCE.  Blackfoot ceremony for the restoration of the sick; Poïa
brings the secrets of, to the Blackfeet, 204

SUN-CHILDREN.  Extract from the story of the two, 93-94

SUN-COUNTRY.  In the story of Scar-face, 198-200

SUN-GOD.  In the stories of Scar-face, 197-205; in a Blackfoot
day-and-night myth, 208; the Sioux deity, Ictinike the son of, 266

SUPERNATURAL PEOPLE, THE.  A semi-divine race, 129-130; Blue Jay and,
124-125, 323-324, 327, 329-332; Haida myth of the origin of certain,
312-314; in Chinook myth, 323-324, 327-332, 337-338

SUSQUEHANNOCKS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 23

SWAMP FIGHT.  A battle between Indians and whites, 31

SWANTON, J. R.  On totemism, 84-87

SWEET GRASS HILLS.  In the legend of Buffalo-stealer, 209



T

TA-UL-TZU-JE.  An Indian; the fetish of, 90

TACU.  In Californian myth, reputed father of Ouiamot, 354

TACULLIES.  A tribe of the Tinneh stock; a superstition of, 358

TAKAHLI.  A South American tribe; moral sense of, 98

TAKER-OFF-OF-THE-TREE-TOPS.  Haida wind-deity; in the story of
Master-carpenter and South-east, 318

TARENYAWAGO.  Master of ceremonies in the Land of Souls; in the legend
of Sayadio, 261

TAWISCARA (Dark One).  One of the twin-gods of the Iroquois, 121

TECUMSEH.  An Algonquin chief; war of, with the whites, 25

TETONS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock, 28

TEXAS.  Indians of; and earth-mounds, 21

THORWALD.  Brother of Leif the Lucky; voyage of, to America, 15

THREE TESTS.  The story of the, 275-278

THUNDER-BOYS.  Twin thunder-gods of the Cherokees, 126

THUNDER-GODS, INDIAN, 125-126; analogous to thunder-gods of the
aboriginal Mexican peoples, 126

THUNDER-MEN.  Man-eating beings in Sioux myth; in the story of the
Snake-wife, 290-292; transformed into the thunder-clouds, 292

THUNDERER.  A supernatural being, in Chinook myth, 334-338

THUNDERER'S SON-IN-LAW.  The story of the, 332-341

THUNDERERS.  The people of Hi'nun, the Iroquois thunder-god; a myth
relating to, 219-222

TIDAL-WAVE.  Haida storm-deity; in the story of Master-carpenter and
South-east, 318

TIHUGUN (My Old Friend).  A beneficent deity of the Tinneh, 358

TIME.  Indian methods of reckoning, 131-133

TINNEH, or DÉNÉ.  A division of the Athapascan stock, 22, 356; poverty
of, in mythological conceptions, 356-357; beliefs of, 357-358

TIPI.  An Indian tent-dwelling, 48, 49

TIPPECANOE.  Battle of the, 25

TLINGIT.  A tribe of the Koluschan stock; houses of, 46-47

TO-MORROW.  Haida deity, mother of South-east; in the story of
Master-carpenter, 318

TOBACCO.  Use of, among the Indians, 115-116; legend of the origin of
smoking, 115

TOBET.  I. A ceremonial dancer of the Acagchemems, 355.  II. The
costume worn by the _tobet_, 355

TOSAUT.  A rock mentioned in creation-myth of the Acagchemem tribes,
352, 353

TOTEMISM.  Influence of, upon marriage, 73; story of an adventure with
a totem, 74-75; story of a totem-vigil, 75-76; origin of, among the
Indians, 80-81; wide extension of, 81, 82-83; development of the totem
into a deity, 82; rules of, 83; severity of totemic rule, 83; Swanton
on, 84-87; associated with fetishism, 93; influence upon the growth of
'morality,' 102

TSUI 'KALU (Slanting Eyes).  A hunter-god of the Cherokees, 125-126

TUPARAN.  Same as Wac, _which see_

TUSCARORAS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock, 23; and the twin-gods myth
of the Iroquois, 121

TWIN-GODS of the Iroquois, 121

TYRKER, or TYDSKER.  In legend of Norse voyage to America, 14, 15

TZI-DALTAI.  Fetishes of the Apaches, 89-90



U

UNDERWORLD.  Sioux story of an adventure in, 292-296

UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.  And the Indians, 32, 79

UNKTAHE.  Water-god of the Dakota, 126

UTONAGAN.  A totem-spirit; an Indian's adventure with, 74-75



V

VANCOUVER, G.  And Indian dwellings, 47

VIRGINIA.  Earth-mounds found in, 18; wars between whites and early
settlers in, 29-30



W

WABASKAHA.  An Omaha brave; the story of, 271-273

WABOJEEG.  An Indian chief; hunting exploit of, 54; a war-song of, 70-71

WABOSE, CATHERINE.  The adventure of, 75-76

WAC.  A supreme deity of the Pericues, called also Tuparan, 356

WAKANDA.  A deity of the Omaha; in the story of Wabaskaha, 272; in the
story of the Snake-wife, 288

WAKINYJAN (The Flyers).  Sioux wind-deities who send storms, 110

WALES.  Legend that North American Indians came from, 4-5

"WALLUM-OLUM."  Picture-writing records of the Leni-Lenâpé, 77-78

WAR-DANCE, INDIAN, 65, 69-70

WARFARE AND WAR-CUSTOMS, INDIAN, 63-72

WASIS.  A baby, in Algonquian myth; Glooskap and, 145-146

WATER MANITOU.  In a Chippeway legend, 179

WATER-GOD.  Of the Dakota, 126; in an Iroquois legend, 286-287

WAUKHEON (Thunder-bird).  A thunder-god of the Dakota, 126

WAYNE, GENERAL A., 26

WEASEL.  Name of the Fairy Wives, 172

WEST WIND, THE.  I. Algonquian deity, father of Michabo, 120.  II.
Deity of the Iroquois, brother of Hi'nun, 217; destroys the Stone
Giants, 228-229

WHALE-MEAT-CUTTER.  A being with magical powers, in Chinook myth, 330

WHITE FEATHER.  _See_ Chácopee

WHITES.  Familiar name for European settlers in America; early wars
with Indians, 29-31; early relationship with Indians, 29-30, 32;
Blackfoot idea of the originator of, 208

WHITNEY, PROFESSOR J. D.  Discovery of 'Calaveras' skull by, 8

WICHITA.  A tribe of the Caddoan stock, 28; grass hut of, 48

WICKIUP.  An Indian dwelling, 49

WIGWAM.  An Indian dwelling, 49

WILSON, PROFESSOR D.  On the Chinooks, 322

WIN-PE.  A giant sorcerer, in Algonquian myth; Glooskap and, 143-144

WINE-LAND.  In legend of Norse voyage to America, 15

WINNEBAGO.  A tribe of the Siouan stock; as mound-builders, 21

WINSLOW, E.  On the gods of the Indians, 105

WINTER.  A giant, in Algonquian myth; Glooskap and, 147-148

WISCONSIN.  Earth-mounds found in, 17

WITCHCRAFT.  Iroquois belief in, 229

WOLF-TRAIL.  Indian name for the Milky Way, 204

WOMEN, INDIAN.  Position of, 72-73; skill of, in weaving, 73

WONDERFUL KETTLE.  The story of the, 251-254

WYANDOTS.  A tribe of the Iroquois stock; allied with Algonquian
tribes, 25; a legend of, 260-262

WYOMING.  Prehistoric remains discovered in, 8



Y

YANKTONS.  A tribe of the Siouan stock, 28

YCAIUT (Above).  One of the first women, in an Acagchemem
creation-myth, 353

YOUNG DOG DANCE.  Legend of the origin of the, 190-193

YUCHI.  A tribe of the Uchean stock; and earth-mounds, 21



Z

ZlNZENDORF, THE COUNT OF.  Story of the rattlesnake and, 114-115

ZUÑI.  A tribe of the Zuñian stock; fetishism among, 93-97;
creation-myth of, 106-107; Awonawilona, the chief deity of, 106, 121;
and the eagle, 111; and the serpent, 113; the year of, 132; dialect of
the priesthood of, 136