Chapter XII: Part 12

In the evening, after this man had brought his halibut ashore and had entered his house, he said, “I have a very small halibut. It might bring me luck.” His wife took up her knife and went down to it, but when she saw that diminutive fish she took it by the tail and threw it up on the beach. Then the halibut, which was still alive, began to flop up and down faster and faster. Presently the woman saw a larger halibut lying there. Everybody now watched it, and it kept flopping and increasing in size until it became as large as a paddle. By and by it grew to the size of a large piece of red-cedar bark prepared for roofing, and at length it covered the entire beach. Toward evening it was a veritable monster, which smashed the whole town in pieces by its motions. Before that the Queen Charlotte group formed one large solid body of land, but the halibut broke it into the various portions that exist to-day. At that same time the people of this single village were scattered all over the group.

41. THE IMAGE THAT CAME TO LIFE

A young chief on the Queen Charlotte islands married, and soon afterwards his wife fell ill. Then he sent around everywhere for the very best shamans. If there were a very fine shaman at a certain village he would send a canoe there to bring him. None of them could help her, however, and after she had been sick for a very long time she died.

Now the young chief felt very badly over the loss of his wife. He went from place to place after the best carvers in order to have them carve an image of his wife, but no one could make anything to look like her. All this time there was a carver in his own village who could carve much better than all the others. This man met him one day and said, “You are going from village to village to have wood carved like your wife’s face, and you can not find anyone to do it, can you? I have seen your wife a great deal walking along with you. I have never studied her face with the idea that you might want some one to carve it, but I am going to try if you will allow me.”

Then the carver went after a piece of red cedar and began working upon it. When he was through, he went to the young chief and said, “Now you can come along and look at it.” He had dressed it just as he used to see the young woman dressed. So the chief went with him, and, when he got inside, he saw his dead wife sitting there just as she used to look. This made him very happy, and he took it home. Then he asked the carver, “What do I owe you for making this?” and he replied, “Do as you please about it.” The carver had felt sorry to see how this chief was mourning for his wife, so he said, “It is because I felt badly for you that I made that. So don’t pay me too much for it.” He paid the carver very well, however, both in slaves and in goods.

Now the chief dressed this image in his wife’s clothes and her marten-skin robe. He felt that his wife had come back to him and treated the image just like her. One day, while he sat mourning very close to the image, he felt it move. His wife had also been very fond of him. At first he thought that the movement was only his imagination, yet he examined it every day, for he thought that at some time it would come to life. When he ate he always had the image close to him.

After a while the whole village learned that he had this image and all came in to see it. Many could not believe that it was not the woman herself until they had examined it closely.

One day, after the chief had had it for a long, long time, he examined the body and found it just like that of a human being. Still, although it was alive, it could not move or speak. Some time later, however, the image gave forth a sound from its chest like that of crackling wood, and the man knew that it was ill. When he had some one move it away from the place where it had been sitting they found a small red-cedar tree growing there on top of the flooring. They left it until it grew to be very large, and it is because of this that cedars on the Queen Charlotte islands are so good. When people up this way look for red cedars and find a good one they say, “This looks like the baby of the chief’s wife.”

Every day the image of the young woman grew more like a human being, and, when they heard the story, people from villages far and near came in to look at it and at the young cedar tree growing there, at which they were very much astonished. The woman moved around very little and never got to talk, but her husband dreamed what she wanted to tell him. It was through his dreams that he knew she was talking to him.

42. DJĪYĪˊN[109]

While the Tlingit were still living at Klinkwan (Łînqᵒ-ān) a famine broke out. There was an orphan girl there named Djīyīˊn who was taking care of herself. Once in a while her father’s sister would help her, but all were starving, her father’s sister also being poor.

One day some women were going off to dig tsǃēt roots, and this orphan very much wished to accompany them, but they would not take her. They said she was dirty and would bring them bad luck. When she laid hold of the canoe they struck her fingers to make her let go, but she was very hungry and very persistent, so that her father’s sister finally took her in. When they encamped that night she did not come back, and they did not know what she was living on. The women who were angry with her said, “What is the matter with her? Why doesn’t she come back to eat?” When they got ready to start home the orphan had not returned, and they left her there alone. They also threw water on the fire.

The girl’s aunt, however, procured a coal and threw it into the brush house where they had camped, along with a piece of dried salmon. She was careful not to let the others see what she was doing. Then she went back and said to the girl, “Are you coming?” “No,” she replied, “since they don’t want to take me, I better stay.” Then her aunt said, “I have put a live coal in that brush house along with a piece of dried salmon.”

As soon as the others had gone away the orphan made a big fire and cooked her roots and salmon, but she did not feel like eating. Therefore, instead of doing so, she went away and dug some more roots. In the evening she went back to her brush house, thinking she could eat now, but found that she had no appetite. So she lay down and went to sleep. Early in the morning she was awakened by a great noise which she found on looking out was made by a flock of brants (qên). She felt so tired that she lay down again and went to sleep, and, when she awoke once more, she thought she would set out after more roots. Going down to the flat where these roots grew, she found it covered with brants feeding upon them. When they saw her they flew away. Then she began removing the dead grass from the place where she was going to dig, and to her surprise came upon several big canoes looking as if they had been buried there, which were loaded with eulachon oil, dried eulachon, dried halibut, and dried salmon. She felt very happy. She thought how lucky it was that she had remained there when all of the village people were starving.

Now the orphan thought that she would eat something, so she took some salmon and a bundle of halibut home with her. On roasting a piece of salmon, however, she found that she could not eat it. She did not know what had gotten into her that she could not force herself to eat. She wished that her aunt were with her. Next morning she discovered that the spirits were keeping food away from her because she was becoming a shaman. The brants had become her spirits. The brant spirits always come to Raven people like her. So she became a great shaman and was possessed by spirits every day, while sea gulls, crows, and all kinds of sea and woodland birds sang for her. This happened every day. Two or three times a day she would go to see the buried canoes, but she could not eat anything, and she gave up digging roots because she had no way of sharpening her sticks. Meanwhile everyone in the village thought that she had starved to death.

After some time had passed, the girl wished that some one would come to her from the village, and the day after a canoe appeared in sight. This made her very happy, especially when it got close and she found it contained some people of her acquaintance from the village. She called them up to her brush house and gave them some food from the canoes, and they remained there two or three days. They were out hunting for food. After a while she told them it was time for them to go, and, when they were on the point of starting, she said, “Do not take a bit of the food I have given you. Leave it all here. Tell the people of our village that Djīyīˊn is still living and is doing well. Tell my aunt that she must try to get here as soon as she can.”

When these people got back to the village and told what had happened to the orphan, how much food she had and how lucky she had been, all the town people who had been dying of starvation started off immediately for the place where she was living. When they came in sight of her brush house they saw that from the sky right down to it the air was filled with birds. There were so many that one could not see through them. They could also hear men and women singing and the shaman performing, but, when they came close, all of the birds flew away.

As soon as the shaman heard that her people were coming she walked out to meet them and asked, “Which canoe is my aunt in? Let her land here.” All of the food in one of her canoes she gave to her aunt. Then she said, “I want two women to come ashore to help me with my singing.” The high-caste women in the canoes, who were all painted up, would rise one after the other, but she would not have them, and finally called two who were orphans like herself and had been treated very badly by their own people. All the others then started to come ashore, and she told them where to camp. She had room enough in her own house only for the two girls and her aunt.

These high-caste people had brought their slaves with them when they came to her, and she got them herself in exchange for food. She had three brush houses built to hold them. She also dressed up the two little orphans so that they looked very pretty. After a long time the people left her to return to their own village, and, when another long period had elapsed, her spirit made the town chief sick, and they hired her to come and treat him.

This shaman had belonged to a very high-caste family, but they had died off and left her very poor, and nothing remained of her uncle’s house except the posts. Grass grew all about inside of it, and when the shaman was entering the village she saw the posts of her uncle’s house and felt very sad. She told them to land near by. Then she looked up, raised an eagle’s tail in one hand, blew upon it, and waved it back and forth in front of them. The fourth time a fine house stood there. Then they carried all of her things into this, and she had the slaves she had procured work for her, while the two orphans she had taken were now considered high caste.

At that time the sick chief’s daughter also fell sick. Then the spirits turned all the minds of the chief’s people away from her, and they paid other shamans in the village. The sick ones, however, continued to get worse and worse, until they finally remembered that she also was a shaman and sent for her. When the messenger came one of the orphans asked, “How much will they pay the shaman?” “Two slaves,” they said. She thought that this was not enough, and the messenger went back. When he came again, she again asked, “How much are they going to pay the shaman?” “Two slaves and some goods.” Then she agreed, and, as soon as the messenger had left, Djīyīˊn said to the two girls, “Come on. Let us go.”

As soon as she had arrived at the house she sat down between the two sick people and worked very hard to cure them. Her spirits could see immediately what the matter was. This house was crowded with people except around the fire where the shaman was performing. Then Djīyīˊn walked around and said, “The witch that is killing you two has not come.” They sent to all the houses in the village and assembled those who were there in the house in place of the previous occupants. Djīyīˊn examined all of them again, and again said, “The witch is not yet here.” Finally the spirits in her began to say, “The road of the witch is very clear now. The road of the witch is straight for this house.” Again they said, “The witch is coming.” By and by they began to hear a bird whistling in the woods back of the house, and she said, “Yes, hear her. She is coming.” And when the sound came near the door she said, “Open the door and let her come in.” So they opened the door, and there sat a wild canary (sǃāsǃ). Then the shaman told her to sit between the two sick persons, and she did so. She was making a great deal of noise, and the shaman said, “Tie her wings back.” Not long afterward the people heard a great noise like thunder which seemed a great distance off. Then the shaman said, “Here are her children. They are offended and are coming in. Stop up all of the holes so that they may not enter.” The noise grew louder and louder, however, and presently birds began to fly in right through the boards. At last the house became so full of them as to be well nigh suffocating, and very many of the people were injured. Whoever the birds flew against would have a cut or bruise. All at once the house again became empty, not a bird being left inside except the one that was tied.

By this time it was morning, the people having sat in that house all night, and the bird made still more noise. “She is already telling about it,” said the shaman. “She wants to go to the place where she has the food and the pieces of hair with which she is bewitching you.” Finally she left the house, but although they had untied her wings she walked along ahead of four men instead of flying. She went up the way she had come down and began scratching at the roots of some bushes some distance up in the woods. There she came upon the top of a skull in which were some hair, food, and pieces of clothing arranged in a certain manner along with different kinds of leaves. She took these down to the beach and threw them out on the sea in different directions. Afterward she went back to the house with the four men still following her.

By and by the bird began making noises again, and the shaman, who alone could understand her, said that she wanted to leave the place. She hated to go back to her own place among the other birds because she knew that they would be ashamed of her, so she asked them to take her to a town called Close-along-the-beach (Yênqǃasēˊsîtciyî-ān). When they took down a canoe to carry her off she flew right into it. Then the shaman said, “When you get her to the place whither she wants to go, go ashore and put her there, and turn right back.” Then they started on with her, and after a time she made so much noise that they said, “Let us put her ashore here. This must be the place.” They did so, and, as soon as they got close in, the bird flew out upon the beach and started up it very fast. One man followed her to see where she would go and saw her pass under a tree with protruding roots. This was the town she had been talking about.

As soon as the witch put the skull and other things into the water the chief and his daughter recovered. Before the events narrated in this story people did not know anything about witchcraft, and the ancients used to say that it was from this bird that they learned it years ago.

FOOTNOTES:

[109] Or better Djūn. Haida versions of the same will be found in Memoirs Amer. Mus. Nat. Hist., VIII, 226, 247. Aqāˊnîqǃēs is said to be in all probability Kayāˊnîqǃēs (For-the-leaves).

43. THE SELF-BURNING FIRE

One winter the people at a certain place on Copper river were left with nothing to eat and began dying off. About the middle of that winter all of the children and some of the adults were dead, and only about half of the former population remained. When only eight men were left they said to one another, “Let us leave. Let us walk down this side of the river.” So they started off down the bank, and, after a long time, one of them died of cold. They buried[110] him and went on. By and by another froze to death and was also buried. This kept on until there were only four. One day three of the remainder succumbed in succession, the last at evening, leaving but one man from all that village. This man was very sickly looking, but he felt strong, and when his last companion fell, he left him lying there and went on rapidly. He thought he would drop with grief, however, at the loss of his last comrade.

As he was going on quite late in the evening he suddenly heard some one shout right ahead of him. He followed the voice, which kept on calling continually. Finally he came to a great fire and stood near it to warm himself. It was that that had been calling him.

When the man had become thoroughly warmed he was about to start on again. Suddenly, however, he heard the bushes breaking behind him, and, looking back, he saw all the men who had frozen to death and all of the village people standing around the fire. This fire is called Self-burning Fire (Wᴀyîˊkǃ gᴀˊnî), and it was that that had brought all of those people to life. From that time on they were able to get their food very easily at the mouth of the river.

FOOTNOTES:

[110] The words of the narrator, but corpses were usually burned.

44. THE GIANT OF TĀˊSNA

At Tāˊsna, near the mouth of the Yukon (?), was a large village in which everybody had died except one small boy. His mother was the last to perish. This boy was very independent, however, remaining in his mother’s house all the time instead of going around to the other houses in the place. Every day he went out with his bow and arrows and shot small birds and squirrels for his sustenance.

On one of these hunting trips, however, he met a very large man with bushes growing on one side of his face. The big man chased him, and, being very quick, the boy tried to climb up a tree, but the big man reached right up after him and pulled him down. Then the big man said, “I am not going to hurt you. Stand right here.” So he put the boy on a high place, went some distance away and said, “Take your bow and arrows and shoot me right here,” pointing at the same time to a spot between his eyebrows. At first the boy was afraid to do so, and the big man begged him all that day. Finally, when it was getting dark, he thought, “Well! I will shoot him. He may kill me if I don’t, and he will kill me if I do.” The moment he shot the man, however, he saw his mother and all the village people that had been lost. All had been going to this big man. That was why the man wanted the boy to shoot him. It brought all the people back.

[This story is used in potlatch speeches.]

45. THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED A LAND OTTER[111]

A man at Sitka had three little children who were crying with hunger because he had nothing to give them. His sister had been captured by the land otters after having been nearly drowned. Then he said to the little ones, “You poor children, I wish your aunt were living.” Some time afterward that same evening he heard a load set down outside, and going out to look, he saw a very large basket filled with all kinds of dried meat and fish, and oil. The sister he had been wishing for had brought it. Then this woman herself came in and said, “I have brought that for the little ones. I will be right back again. I live only a short distance from here. We have a village there named Transparent-village (Kānᴀˊxᴀ-dak-ān). You must come and stay with us.” The man said that he was making a canoe and had to finish it, but she replied, “Your nephews are coming over, and they will finish your canoe for you.”

After the food that his sister had brought him had given out she came to him again with more and said, “I have come after you now. Bring your little ones and come along. I see that you are having a hard time with them.”

So her brother prepared to go. Before he started he got some blue hellebore (sǃîkc), which he soaked in water to make it very strong and bitter, and finally his sister’s boys came, fine-looking young men who were peculiar only in having very long braids of hair hanging down their backs. In reality these were their tails. He showed them where his canoe was so that they could go to work on it, and, after they had completed it roughly, they pulled it down for him.

Then the man started off with his family, and, sure enough, when he rounded the point what appeared to him like a fine village lay there. The people came to meet them, but his sister said, “Don’t stay right in the village. Stay here, a little distance away.”

The people of that place were very good to him and gave him all the halibut he wanted, but he always had the blue hellebore by him to keep from being injuriously affected. They were also in the habit of singing a cradle song for his youngest child which went this way, “The tail is growing. The tail is growing.” Then he examined the child, and in fact a tail was really growing upon it, so he chopped it off.

Finally the man’s sister told him that he was staying there a little too long, and he started back toward his village. As he went he looked back, and there was nothing to be seen but land-otter holes. Before they had appeared like painted houses. Then he returned to his own place with all kinds of food given him by the land otters.

FOOTNOTES:

[111] See story 6.

46. THE LAND-OTTERS’ CAPTIVE

Several persons once went out from Sitka together, when their canoe upset and all were drowned except a man of the Kîksᴀˊdî. A canoe came to this man, and he thought that it contained his friends, but they were really land otters. They started southward with him and kept going farther and farther, until they had passed clear round the Queen Charlotte islands. At every place where they stopped they took in a female land otter. All this time they kept a mat made out of the broad part of a piece of kelp, over the man they had captured until at length they arrived at a place they called Rainy-village (Sīˊwu-āˊnî).

At this place the man met an aunt who had been drowned years before and had become the wife of two land otters. She was dressed in a ground-hog robe. Then she said to him, “Your aunt’s husbands will save you. You must come to see me this evening.” When he came his aunt said, “I can’t leave these people, for I have learned to think a great deal of them.”

Afterward his aunt’s husbands started back with him. They did not camp until midnight. Their canoe was a skate, and, as soon as they came ashore, they would turn it over on top of him so that, no matter how hard he tried to get out, he could not. In making the passage across to Cape Ommaney they worked very hard, and shortly after they landed they heard the raven.[112] They could go only a short distance for food.

When they first started back the woman had said to her husbands, “Don’t leave him where he can be captured again. Take him to a good place.” So they left him close to Sitka. Then he walked around in the neighborhood of the town and made the people suffer so much every night that they could not sleep, and determined to capture him. They fixed a rope in such a way as to ensnare him, but at first they were unsuccessful. Finally, however, they placed dog bones in the rope so that they would stick into his hands, dog bones being the greatest enemies of the land otters.

Late that night the land-otter-man tore his hands so with these bones that he sat down and began to scream, and, while he was doing this, they got the rope around him and captured him. When they got him home he was at first very wild, but they restored his reason by cutting his head with dog bones. He was probably not so far gone as most victims. Then they learned what had happened to him.

After this time, however, he would always eat his meat and fish raw. Once, when he was among the halibut fishers, they wanted very much to have him eat some cooked halibut. He was a good halibut fisher, probably having learned the art from the land otters, though he did not say so. For a long time the man refused to take any, but at last consented and the food killed him.

FOOTNOTES:

[112] Supernatural beings who heard the raven call before they came to land, died.

47. THE MAN FED FROM THE SKY

Dātg̣āˊs, the nephew of a chief at Chilkoot, used to lie all the time bundled up in a corner made by the retaining timbers. When everybody else was in bed he would rise and go to the fire. Then he would gather the coals into a heap in order to warm his blanket over them. The people of that town were starving, so Dātg̣āˊs would say, as he held his blanket over the coals, “Would that a piece of dried salmon fell upon this from the smoke hole.” He did this every night.

One time, as he was standing over the fire without holding his blanket out, some one called to him, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch out your blanket once more.” So he stretched it out and held it there for some time thinking, “Who is that calling me?” By and by he heard the voice again, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch it out farther.” So, though he could not see who was speaking, he stretched it far out. Then half of a salmon fell upon his blanket. He took this, cut it into small pieces, and distributed them among a number of empty boxes that were in the house. At once all of those boxes were full of salmon.

The uncle of Dātg̣āˊs had two wives, the younger of whom was very good to him. Although they had to be sparing with their food, when they were eating salmon she always put a little piece aside for him. The next evening, after he had eaten his morsel of food and was lying down, he was called once more by the voice, “Stretch your blanket out again.” He ran quickly to the smoke hole and spread out his blanket under it, but nothing came down, so he said, “I think I will wish for something. I wish that some grease would come down to eat with the salmon.” And suddenly a sack of grease fell upon his blanket, knocked it away, and dropped upon the fireplace. He ran with this to the empty grease boxes and put a spoonful in each, upon which all were immediately filled with grease. Once more the voice called him, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch your blanket out again.” He did so, wishing for a sack of berries, and an animal stomach filled with them dropped down at once. This time he held his blanket very firmly so that it would not be carried out of his fingers. He put a spoonful of berries into each empty berry box, and they were all filled.

After this he sat down thinking that he would not be summoned again, but once more the voice came, this time very loudly, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch out your blanket.” So he stretched it out, and there came down upon it a sack of cranberries preserved in grease. He put a spoonful into each empty box as before and filled them.

Again came the voice, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch out your blanket.” Then there came down a piece of venison dried with the fat on. When he had cut it into many small pieces and distributed these among the boxes they were at once filled. It was now very late, but the voice called him once more, “Dātg̣āˊs, stretch out your blanket again.” Then there came down a cake of dried soapberries which he broke into little pieces, distributed among the boxes and made those full also.

Next morning the chief’s house was crowded with hungry people begging for food, and all that the chief could give them was a little tobacco to chew. He had nothing even for himself. Seeing this, the people began to go out. Now, Dātg̣āˊs said to his uncle, “Why are all going out without having had anything to eat?” He was a very quiet fellow who seldom said anything, and, when he broke out in this manner, his uncle became very angry with him. “Why do you want those people to stay?” he said. “What will you give them to eat? If you have so much to say why don’t you feed them?” “Well,” answered Dātg̣āˊs, “I will feed them.” His uncle looked at him in surprise. He had seen him acting strangely at night, and had wondered what he was doing. While they were talking, the younger wife of his uncle kept looking at him and shaking her head, because she was afraid that her husband would become angry with him.

His uncle thought that the boy was only talking, so he said, “Feed them, then.” The boy said, “Call them all in and I will feed them.” Half of the people had already gone out, but some stood listening to him as he talked with his uncle, and one of these who stood near the door called those that had gone out, to return.

When the people were all in, Dātg̣āˊs went to the place where the salmon used to be packed away, and his uncle thought to himself, “That fellow is going back there to those empty boxes.” When he returned with one of them, however, it looked very heavy, and presently he handed out a salmon to every boy in the room, telling him to roast it at the fire. So his uncle had nothing more to say.

Next Dātg̣āˊs told some of the boys to get trays, and, after he had filled them, he set them before the people. Telling them to keep quiet, he went back again to the place where the boxes were and called for help. Two more boys went back there and brought forward a box of oil to eat with their salmon.

After they had eaten these things, he called the boys to go back with him again and they brought out a box of venison. His uncle kept very quiet while this was going on, and his younger wife felt very proud. Next Dātg̣āˊs had them bring out a box of berries[113] preserved in grease, which he passed around in large dishes. The chief began to think that his nephew was giving too much at a time of famine, but he could say nothing. Then preserved high-bush cranberries were served to the people in large dishes and finally soapberries, which all the boys stirred.

After this feast everyone left the house, but they soon came back one by one to buy food, for they had plenty of other property. People that were dying of starvation were strengthened by the food he gave them. For one large moose hide he would give two salmon. He asked his uncle’s younger wife to receive the goods that he was getting in exchange. But, after he had obtained a great deal of property more than half of the food was still left.

The chief, his uncle, was quite old at that time, both of his wives being much younger. He felt very well disposed toward his nephew to think that he had been so liberal and had kept up his uncle’s name, so he said to him, “You have done well to me and to my village people. Had it been another young fellow he would have hidden the food, but instead you have brought my village people and myself to life. Now take your choice between my wives. Take whichever you want.”

The young man did not answer at once, but the younger wife knew that he would choose her, because the elder wife hated him. Finally he said, “I will take the young woman, for she has been good to me.” Then his uncle moved to one side and let his nephew take his place. He became exceedingly wealthy, and was very good to the people of his village and to his uncle.

FOOTNOTES:

[113] These were the berries called tînx̣.

48. THE SALMON SACK

A small boy whose father was dead lived with his mother at the town of Āsnᴀˊxkǃ on the Queen Charlotte islands. The other town people were continually bringing in halibut and a salmon called îcqēˊn, but he and his mother could not get one piece and were very hungry. One day he begged to accompany some people who were going out, and they consented. When he got to the fishing ground he had a bite and began to pull up his line very rapidly. As he did so numbers of salmon tails began coming up for some distance around, and the people started to put them into the canoe. They did not know what it meant. When he got it up they found that it was a very large sack full of salmon with just their tails sticking out, and they completely filled their canoes, for the salmon extended all about them. Then they carried these ashore and had so many that they began making oil out of some. With this oil and the dried salmon the people of that village had plenty to eat.

Years ago it always happened that the poor people to whom others were unkind brought luck to the village. They were so unkind to this boy that they did not give him any halibut, and that is why it was through him that they had plenty to eat.

49. ROOTS[114]

A boy was walking along in front of the houses of a very populous village early one morning when a quill fell right in front of him. The boy picked it up and started to run away, but it lifted him up into the air out of sight. After that several other people were missed, and no one knew what had become of them. Finally, however, they saw another going up very rapidly, and so discovered what was the matter. Now, the people watched very closely, and, when another was seen to be taken up, a man seized him by the legs. He, however, was also lifted into the air. Then another grasped him, and all of the people of the village kept on doing this, thinking to break the string, until no one was left in that town except a woman and her daughter. These two lived at one end and refused to touch the others.

The mother of this girl was very fond of making spruce-root baskets, and, when she went after roots, the girl always accompanied her. When her mother cut off the ends of the roots out in the forest her daughter would chew them because they were sweet, and swallow the juice, after which she would spit them out and take more. Finally she got so used to chewing them that she would chew up fine the roots themselves and swallow them.

Now, after this had gone on for some time, the girl saw that she was growing large, and presently she gave birth to a boy baby. While this child was still very small she bathed him in cold water to make him strong, and he grew very fast.

When he was partially grown he one day saw the quill which had carried away the people, picked it up and pulled on it very hard. Then he noticed that someone was pulling it up. This invisible person tried to pull him up also, but he was very strong and ran out roots into the ground in every direction so that he could not be moved. All that he could see was the quill. He tried hard to find a line fastened to it, but there was nothing visible except the quill pulling up and down. He determined to hold on, however, to see what would happen, and at last he felt something break and the quill come away in his hands.

While Roots continued sitting in the same place a boy came to him saying, “Where is that quill of mine? Give it to me.” Then Roots answered, “Well! where are my village people? Give them to me.” “Give me the quill first,” said the boy. “No, give me back my village people first, and I will give you the quill.” Then he begged very hard for his village people, and the boy begged very hard for the quill, until at last Roots heard the noise of people coming. At that he handed back the quill and the boy vanished.

The people did not come that day, however, and Roots was uneasy, feeling that he had been very foolish to give the quill back before his friends had returned. Next morning early, however, he heard a great noise as of people moving about, and he jumped out of bed to look. The houses throughout the village were filled with their former occupants, who had come back during the night. All were very glad to get back after their long absence, for where they had been they seemed to have suffered. All complained of the mean master that they had had, but they could not tell whether they had been made slaves or not. All were very good to Roots for having restored them.

Afterward Roots, the full form of whose name is Root-ends (Xᴀt cugūˊʟkǃî), was known everywhere, and all of the strong people would go to his village to test him. Among them went a strong rock, called Itcǃ, who felt that he was very powerful. When they began to contend, Roots jumped upon Itcǃ first but could not move him. Then Roots looked at his antagonist and saw that he was half buried in the ground although a human being. This made Roots angry and he stooped down, picked Itcǃ up, and threw him down headlong. After he had done so he looked and lo! there lay only a rock. If it had not been for the numbers of roots that Roots sent out, however, Itcǃ would have beaten him.

FOOTNOTES:

[114] See story 13.

50. THE MUCUS CHILD

From a certain village the men began to disappear. They would go up into the woods behind after firewood and never come back. Finally all the rest of the men went up there together, intending to kill whatever had been destroying their friends, but they, too, never came back. Then the women and children began disappearing in the same manner until not one person remained except a woman and her daughter who refused to go out.

After that the younger woman walked back and forth in front of the houses, crying and calling to each of the former house owners. One day she cried very hard until the mucus ran down from her nose, and, wiping this off, she threw it down near one of the doors. After a while she noticed from the corner of her eye that it moved. She looked at it closely and saw that it was like a bubble. Then she stooped down to examine it and saw in it a little man. Before the bubble had disappeared she picked it up and swallowed it and soon discovered that she was pregnant. In a short time she gave birth to a boy.

This mucus child grew up very fast, and, when he was old enough to shoot, his mother made him a bow and arrows with which to practise. When he became somewhat larger he asked his mother, “Mother, why are these houses empty? Where have the people that occupied them gone?” And his mother answered, “We had many friends in this village. They would go after wood and never return. The women and children did the same thing. They followed their husbands and parents and never returned.” This boy grew up very fast, and meanwhile he kept thinking to himself, “I wonder what happened to those people who went up after wood and did not come back.” After he had become still larger he made himself a bow and arrow points, and his mother made him a quiver. With these he ventured a short distance up into the woods. He was afraid to go far.

Finally he thought, “I am going a long distance up into the woods, but I am not going to say a word about it to my mother.” And so, early in the morning, he went straight up from the house and, after traveling for some time, reached a creek of black water which ran out from under a glacier. There he met a large man who said to him, “Grandson, take off all of your clothes, get into this creek until the water is up to your neck, and sit there no matter how cold it is.” The boy did so, and, after a long time, the big man saw the water shake around him and thought, “The water is shaking because he has sat in it so long that he is beginning to get cold.” Then the big man told him to come out, and, after he had done so, he said, “Go and try to pull up that tree.” This tree was a short one, and he pulled it up easily by the roots. Then the big man told him to strike a large round white rock near by to see if he could smash it, and he did so. The rock was broken in pieces. But this rock was only a friable one put there on purpose for the boy to break. Then the big man said to him, “Put on your clothes now and go home. To-morrow come up again.”

The next day the big man told him to get into the creek again, and, when he saw him shivering, told him to come out and pull up a still larger tree. He pulled it up easily. Then he took him to a still larger rock that looked shiny and hard and told him to strike it. When he did so the tree went into slivers, but the rock was intact. So he told the boy to dress, run down home, and come up again very early. This time he was told to pull up a big crab-apple tree. He succeeded, but, although it looked easy to him to break the rock, only the tree was shattered.

The fourth time the boy came up very early before daylight. After he had been in the stream long enough to shiver the big man said, “Run to that tree standing over there. Try to break that.” It was a wild maple, but he broke it more easily than the crab apple. The big man was surprised.

Now the boy knew that he had great strength, and when the big man told him to try to smash the rock again, the rock flew all about. Then the big man took off his leggings, his shirt, and his moccasins, which were beautifully worked with porcupine quills, and put them on the boy. The moccasins were made to tie to the leggings and the sole of one of them was a whetstone. Then the man told him that he was Strength and had come to help him. He showed him a valley and said, “Go right up that valley, making sure to walk in the middle of it. On one side is the glacier. As soon as you reach the top of the mountain you will hear some one calling. You will see a large town there. This village is where your people went when they disappeared and those are the wolf people that took them. As soon as they get within your reach hit them with your club, and if it touches one of them it will kill him. Run up the hill. If you run down the hill you will be caught. If you become tired, think of me and you will become stronger.”

Now the boy went up the hill as he had been directed until he reached the end of the valley, where he heard some one call. He looked down and saw a very large town. At once people came running toward him, and he clubbed them. He could see them fall but did not feel his club strike. He kept on running up the hill, clubbing his pursuers as he went until he had destroyed all of them. Then he returned to his benefactor.

When Strength heard what had happened, he said, “Go back, for there is another village on the other side. Go there and call to them. They will not see you as quickly as these first. Call to them, ‘Give me my uncle’s life, my village people’s life.’ If they refuse, tell them that you are going to strike their village with your club. If they allow you to have it they will hand you a box.” He gave the boy strict orders not to strike unless they refused to give him the box of lives.

When the boy came to the first house in this village, he asked for the lives of his town people, but they said, “We don’t know where they are. They might be in the next house.” He went to that, and they said the same thing there. They answered him in the same manner at all of the houses. By the time he reached the last he was discouraged, thinking that he had undertaken all of that labor for nothing. He went in there, however, and said, “Give me my village people’s lives. If you don’t give them to me, I will strike your village.” This was the town chief’s house, however, and he said, “Don’t strike our village. I will give you the lives of your village people.” These people were also wolf people. Then the wolf chief handed him the box of lives and said, “Take it back to your village and leave it in each house for four days. At the end of four days go into the house and see what has happened.”

After this the boy returned to his native village and left the box of lives four days in the house of his uncle, the chief. Early on the morning of the day following he heard noises there, jumped up and went over to it. There were all of his people walking about and looking very happy. He left the box in every house in town for the prescribed period until all the absent ones had come to life, and all of their houses were filled as before. All the time this boy was away among the wolves his mother and grandmother were worrying about him, but after the people had been restored they were very happy.

51. THE SALMON CHIEF

A certain fisherman fished for salmon and nothing else. One day, after he had fished for a long time, he was walking upon the beach and came upon a salmon left by the tide. He was very glad for he had not been getting any fish for some time and saw that this was nice and fresh. He said to himself, “Oh! what a nice meal I shall have.” He had been very hungry for salmon. But, as he reached down to pick it up, it spoke to him saying, “No, no, don’t eat me. I am chief of all the salmon. Put me into the water and let me go out again. You will get lots of salmon if you let me go.” The man felt very badly to lose it, but he thought that since it talked to him in this way he would let it go, and he did so.

Before this happened it had been very stormy, so that the fisherman had been unable to get anything, but now it became calm, and he went out fishing and caught many salmon. Next day he went for more, but it was so stormy at sea that he could not catch any. Then he thought that he would walk along shore again. He did so, and when he came to the place where he had found the first salmon he saw another large, fine salmon. He thought, “Oh! what a fine-looking salmon, and I have to let it go again.” But the salmon spoke up at once saying, “No, don’t let me go. Take me home, and you shall have me for your supper. After you have cooked me do not break any of my bones. Take care of all of them. Take the bones out of my head and place them in a dish. Then put them under your pillow and sleep on them to-night.”

This man lived alone with his wife, and they had no children but were very anxious for them. About midnight the man awoke and, looking under his pillow, saw two fine-looking boy babies.

The children grew up quite fast, and one of them was very brave, but the other was a coward and always stayed at home. One day the former asked his father, “Are you two the only ones who live here?” “That is all; that is all,” said his father, for he did not want his son to leave them. After that the boy begged hard to go away, and asked his father to put up some food for him to take, but at first his father refused. He begged so hard, however, that after a while his parents consented and prepared it.