Aw-Aw-Tam Indian Nights Part 17

NOTES ON THE STORY OF SOHAHNEE MAHKAI

In this we are given a most graphic and pathetic glimpse of Indian warfare.

Notice the bushes are "cut down" (broken off more likely) by a stick. A glimpse of the rude old tools.

Very poetic is the conception of Veeipschool, "the being above who is always sad, and makes people sad when anything bad has happened." A personification of premonition.

THE STORY OF PAHTAHNk.u.m

And when they came to their journey's end the wife of Kaw-koin-puh had a baby, which grew up to be a fine boy, but the mother cried all the time, where-ever she went, on account of her husband's death.

And the people, after they had settled down, used to go rabbit-hunting, and the children too, and this boy, Paht-ahn-k.u.m, used to watch them wistfully, and his mother said: "I know what you are thinking of, but there is nothing for you to kill rabbits with. But I will send you to your uncle, my brother, whom I am expecting will make a bow and arrows for you."

And the next morning, early, the boy went to his uncle, who said: "Why do you come so early? It is an unusual thing for you to come to see me so early instead of playing with boys and girls of your own age."

And the boy replied: "My mother said she was expecting you to make me a bow and arrows."

And his uncle said: "That is an easy thing to do. Let us go out and get one." And they went out and found an o-a-pot, or cat-claw tree, and cut a piece of its wood to make a bow, and they made a fire and roasted the stick over this, turning it, and they made a string from its bark to try it with; and then they found arrow-weeds, and made arrows, four of them, roasting these, too, and strengthening them; and then they went home and made a good string for the bow from sinew.

And then the boy went home and showed his mother his bow and arrows.

And the next morning the children went hunting and little Pahtahnk.u.m went with them to the place of meeting.

And they found a quotaveech's nest near them, with young ones in it, and one of the men shot into it and killed one of the young ones, and then the children ran up to join in the killing. And when Pahtahnk.u.m came up, one of the men threw him one of the young birds, and said: "Here, take it, even if your mother does not wish to marry me."

And the little boy ran home and gave his game to his mother, and when she saw it she turned her back on it and cried. And he wondered why she cried when he had brought her game and was wishing she would cook it for his dinner.

And his mother said: "I never thought my relatives would treat you this way. There is an animal, the caw-sawn, the wood rat, and a bird, the kah-kai-cheu, the quail, and these are good to eat, and these are what they ought to give you, and when they give you those, bring them home and I will cook them for you." She said, further; "This bird is not fit to eat; and I was thinking, while I was crying, that if your father were living now you would have plenty of game, and he would make you a fine bow, and teach you to be as good a hunter as there is. And I will tell you now how your father died. We did not use to live here. But beyond this mountain there is a river, and beyond that another river still, and that is where we lived and where your father was killed by the people called Apaches, and that is why we are here, and why we are so poor now.

I am only telling you this so you may know how you came to be fatherless, for I know very well you can never pay it back, for the Apaches are very fierce, and very brave, and those who go to their country have to be very careful; for even at night the Apaches may be near them, and even the sunshine in their country feels different from what it does here."

And the little boy, that night, went to his uncle, who asked: "Why do you come to me in the night?"

And the little boy said: "I come to you because today I was hunting with the bow and arrows you made me, and someone gave me a little bird, and I was bashful, and brought it right home for my mother to cook for me, and she cried, and then told me about my father and how he died. And I do not see why you kept this a secret from me. And I wish you would tell me what these Apaches look like, that they are so fierce and brave."

And his uncle said: "That is so. I have not told you of these things because you are just a baby yet, and I did not intend to tell you until you were a man, but now I know you have sense enuf to wish to learn. There is nothing so very different or dangerous about these Apaches; only their bows, and their arrows of cane are dangerous."

And the little boy went on to another doctor, who said: "Why do you come to me? Are you lost? If so, we will take you home." But the little boy said to him: "No, I am not lost, but I want you to tell me one thing--why the Apaches are so dangerous--are they like the har-sen, the giant cactus, with so many thorns?" And the doctor answered: "No, they are men like we are, and have thoughts as we have, and eat as we do, and there is only one thing that makes them dangerous and that is their bows and their arrows of cane."

So the little boy went to the next doctor, and this doctor also asked him if he were lost, and he said: "No, but I want you to tell me just one thing--why the Apaches are so dangerous. Are they like the mirl-hawk, the cane-cactus, with so many branches all covered with thorns?" And the doctor replied: "No, they are human beings just as we are, and think just as we do, and eat as we do, and the only things that make them dangerous are their bows and their arrows of cane." And the little boy said: "I am satisfied."

But he went yet to another doctor and asked him also why the Apaches were so dangerous, were they like the hah-nem, the cholla cactus? But the doctor said no, and gave the same answer as the others had done, and the little boy said: "I am satisfied, then," and went back to his uncle again and began to question him about what people did when they got ready for war, and what they did to purify themselves afterward, and his uncle said: "It is now late at night, and I want you to go home, and tomorrow come to me, and I will tell you about these things."

So the little boy went home, but very early in the morning, before sunrise, he was again at his uncle's house, and came in to him before he was yet up. And his uncle said: "I will now tell you, but we must go outside and not talk in here before other people."

And he took the little boy outside, and they stood there facing the east, waiting for the sun to rise, with the little boy on the right of his uncle. And when the sun began to rise the doctor stretched out his left hand and caught a sunbeam, and closed his hand on it, but when he opened his hand there was nothing there; and then he used his right hand and caught a sunbeam but when he opened his hand there was nothing there; and he tried again with his left hand, and there was nothing, but when he tried the second time with his right hand, when he opened it, there was a lock of Apache's hair in his hand.

And he took this and put it in the little boy's breast, and rubbed it in there till it all disappeared, having entered into the little boy's body.

And then he told the little boy to get him a small piece of oapot or cat-claw tree, but no, he said, I will go myself; and he went and got a little piece of the oapot, and tied a strip of cloth around the boy's head, and stuck the little piece of wood in it, and then told him to go home to his mother and tell her to give him a new dish to eat from.

And this stick which the doctor had put into the boy's hair represented the kuess-kote or scratching stick which the Pimas and Papagoes used after killing Apaches, during the purification time; and the doctor had made it from cat-claw wood because the cat-claw catches everybody that comes near, and he wanted the boy to have great power to capture his enemies.

And his uncle told the boy to stay at home in the day time, lying still and not going anywhere, but at night to come to him again. "And before you come again," he said, "I will make you something and have it ready for you."

And the little boy kept still all that day, but at night he went to his uncle again, and his uncle had four pipes ready for him, made from pieces of cane, and he said, "Now tonight when the people gather here (for it was the custom for many people to come to the doctor's house in the evening) they will talk and have a good time, but after they are thru I will roll a coal from the fire toward you, and then you light one of the pipes and smoke four whiffs, and after that slide the watch-kee, the pipe, along the ground toward me, as is the custom, and I will smoke it four times and pa.s.s it to my next neighbor, and he will do the same, and so the pipe will go all around and come back to you. And even when it is out, when it comes back to you, you are to take it and stick the end that was lighted in the ground.

So that evening the people all a.s.sembled as usual, and told all the news of the day, and about the hunting as was their custom. And when they were thru, and had quieted down, the uncle moved to the fire and rolled a coal toward Pahtahnk.u.m, who took it and lit one of the pipes, and smoked it four times, and then slid it slowly (the pipe must be slid slowly because if it were slid rapidly the enemy would be too quick and escape, but if it is done slowly the enemy will be slow and can be captured) along the ground to his uncle. And his uncle took the watchkee, the pipe-tube, and smoked it also four whiffs, and pa.s.sed it on, but saying: "Of course you are all aware that if any man among you has a wife expecting to have a baby soon, he should not smoke it, but pa.s.s it on without smoking to his neighbor, for if you smoke in such case the child will not be likely to live very long."

And so the pipe pa.s.sed around, and the boy, when the pipe came to him again, buried it as he had been told, and then he began to make this speech:--

"I am nothing but a child, and I go around where the people are cooking and when they give me something to eat I generally suffer because it is so hot. And there was a hunt, and you gave me nothing but a little quotaveech, and stuck it under my belt as if it were something good to eat: and when I took it home to my mother, and dropped it down by her, she turned her back upon it and began to cry. And when she had done crying she told me of all that had happened before, about my father's death, and the story entered my heart; and I went for help to a respectable person, a doctor, one to whom a child would not be likely to go, and he kindly a.s.sisted me, and told me what I asked of him.

And I wanted to be revenged on the slayers of my father, and in imagination a day was appointed for the war, and I went; and the first night I feared nothing and felt good, and the second night, too, I feared nothing and felt good, but the third night I knew I was in the land of the Apaches, an enemy with shield and club, and I did not feel good, and it seemed to me the world was shaking, and I thought of what my mother had said, that the land of the Apaches was different from ours.

And the fourth day I went on and came to the mountain of the Apaches, and I found there the broken arrows of my father's fight; and I sat down, for it seemed to me the mountains and the earth were shaking, and shook my knees, and I thought of what my mother had said that the land of the Apaches felt entirely different.

And the next day I went on and came to the water of the Apaches. And my hair lay over the water like moss. And I looked and found my skull, and I used it for a dipper, and parted the hair with it, and dipped up the water and drank it. And when I drank from the skull I felt as if I were crazy, and clutched around with my hands at things that were not there.

And from there I went on to another water, and that was covered with the white war-paint of my hair, which lay like ashes on the water, and I looked around and found my skull, and drank from that water, and it smelled strong to me like the smell of human flesh and of black war-paint.

And all this was caused in my imagination by the thought of my dead father, and of how the Apaches had gone along rejoicing because they had killed him.

And the next place was a great rock, and I sat down under it, and it was wet with my tears; and the winds of the power of my sadness blew around the rock four times, and shook me.

In the far east there is a gray cousin, the Coyote, and he knows where to find the Apaches, and he was the first I selected to help me and be my comrade, and he took my word, and joined me; and stood up and looked, and saw the Apaches for me and told me; and I had my band ready, and my boys captured the Apaches, who had no weapons ready to injure them.

And after killing them I took their property, and I seemed to get all their strength, all their power. And I came home, bringing all the things I had captured, and enriched my home, strengthening myself four times, and the fame of my deed was all over the country.

And I went to the home of the doctor, taking the child I had captured, and when we were there the blue tears fell from the eyes of the child onto my boys and girls.

And all of you, my relatives, should think of this, and be in favor of the war, remembering the things we have captured, and the enemies we have killed, and should make your singing all joy because of our past successes."

And after the speech was done, feeling it the speech of a child, the people were silent, but at length Toehahvs said: "I like the way of the child, because I am sure he is to be a powerful person, perhaps stronger than any of us, and I respect him, and that is why I am kind to him, and I want that we should all take a smoke, and after that you will get over your feeling of his insignificance."

And then they all smoked again, and began to talk about the war, and of the things they lacked, but the boy wanted them to get ready in four days, telling them that was plenty of time. And so they all began to get ready for the war, making and getting ready shields, clubs, bows, arrows, shoes, and whatever was needed.

And so the people departed for the war, and the very day they left, the mother of Pahtahnk.u.m went and got clay to make the new dishes for the men who should kill Apaches, for she foreknew that many would be killed, and so she sang at her work. And a few of the people were left at home, and one of these was an old man, and he pa.s.sed near where the mother (whose name was Koel-hah-ah) was making her pottery, and heard her singing her song, and he said to the people: "It is very strange that this woman who used to cry all the time is singing now her boy has gone to the war. Perhaps she is like some wives, who when their time of mourning is over are looking out for another man."