Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 36

"Who is to stand and watch?" asked the other old man.

"Tsiwihl," said Norwanchakus.

Tsiwihl put oak leaves near the coil, lay on them, and looked up. Old Lasaswa took one end of his rope, pulled it, and started. The rope was unwinding, and he was going up. Tsiwihl kept his eyes on Lasaswa.

After a while he said, "Lasaswa is half-way up." A little later he said, "He is more than half-way up!"

"But the rope is gone," said Norwanchakus.

"Lasaswa is coming down," said Tsiwihl.

The old man came to the ground. "My rope is too short. Some one else must try now," said he.

"I will try," said the other old man. This one had more rope. Five men had to help him roll it out of the house, there was so much. He took the presents for Sas and began to go up.

Tsiwihl watched closely. The rope was unwinding and Lasaswa was going up. "He is half-way up!" said Tsiwihl; "he is near where the first man was." Tsiwihl moved his head a little, but never lost sight of Lasaswa. "He is as high as the other was; he is higher; he is going still higher!"

"But the rope has given out," said Norwanchakus.

"He is coming down!" cried Tsiwihl.

All were looking at the sky except the small boy, who was inside making rope as before.

"We are old," said the second Lasaswa; "our ropes are too short. You young men must try to-morrow."

Each old man had nine sons. Each person was one day making the trial--all were twenty days trying--no one had a rope long enough.

"What shall we do now?" asked the old men on the twenty-first day.

"There is a boy in the house making rope yet; let him try," said Norwanchakus.

"Oh, he is only playing. He hasn't much rope; he just makes ropes of the shreds that others throw away," said one of the old men.

"Go in and ask him," said the second old man.

Norwanchakus went in and said, "You are a small boy, but will you try your rope for me?" and he took hold of the boy's hand. He kept his rope in a little basket. When Norwanchakus took his hand, he seized the basket with the other hand and carried it out.

"Why do they bring out that little boy?" cried the young men. "He hasn't any rope. We had long ropes, and all were too short; his rope is only to play with."

"My cousin," said Norwanchakus, "you are small, but I think you know something. Here are three presents. When you reach the sky, give them to Sas." Then he told him what to do.

When Norwanchakus had finished, the boy bowed his head and said "Yes"

to him. "You men have long ropes, but they were too short. My rope may not reach the sky, but I will try;" and he started.

Tsiwihl's breast and stomach were as blue now as the sky, and blood was trickling from his eyes, he had looked so long and so hard. After the boy was some distance up, those below could not see him, and they said to Tsiwihl, "Tell us, tell us often what he is doing."

After a while Tsiwihl said: "He is almost as high as the others were.

He is as high; he is as high as the highest was."

They looked at his rope. There seemed to be more than when he started.

It seemed to grow all the time.

"He is higher than any--he is going and going."

"Do not lose sight of him," said Norwanchakus.

Tsiwihl's eyes were full of blood.

"How much rope is there?" asked Norwanchakus.

"Oh, there is plenty of rope," cried the others.

"He is going and going," said Tsiwihl.

"How far up is he? Can you see him?"

"He is high, very high, almost as high as I can see--he is nearly at the sky."

"He will go to it, he will go to it!" cried some.

"He is at the sky," said Tsiwihl. "He is there, he is there! He has his hand on it--he is on the top of it--he is there!"

There was plenty of rope on the ground yet.

"Well," said one of the old men, "he is on the sky. He never talked much, that little boy, or seemed to know much, but he has gone to a place where we could not go."

The sun was almost half-way up in the sky. Tsiwihl lay watching, watching, looking hard. Sas had pa.s.sed the middle of the sky when Tsiwihl said: "I see the boy. He is coming down, he is coming nearer and nearer."

Soon all could see him. At last he was standing on the ground.

"Now, my cousin," said Norwanchakus, "tell me. Let me know what you saw and what you heard. What do you think of that country up there?"

"I went to the top," said the boy. "The country up there is good. I saw a road from east to west. I went east a little, and at the south of the road saw a tobacco tree. I sat under the tree and looked east.

Far off I saw an old man coming with a pack on his back. I sat watching him. At last he came to where I was and pa.s.sed without looking at me, went forward a little, stopped, put down his pack on the south side of the road, and then came toward me. I was sitting with my face to the north. He sat down at my left side, looked at me, looked at the headband, the fire-drill, and the straightener, and laughed. 'What are you doing here?' asked he. 'From what place are you? How did you come up to this land, where no one ever travels but me, where I have never seen any one? You are small. How could you come here?' 'I am here,' answered I, 'because Norwanchakus sent me. He sent me because he has lost his brother, Keriha. He has looked for him all over the world, has asked every one, and no one knows about Keriha. He sent me here to ask you about Keriha. He said that you must know, for you look over the whole world, see all people, see everything.' I put the three things down before him and said, 'Norwanchakus told me to give you these things for your trouble in telling about Keriha.' Sas smiled again, took up the headband, the fire-drill and straightener, held them in his hand, and said: 'These are good--I know all that is pa.s.sing in the world. I know where Keriha is. I have seen him every day since he went from his brother--I know where he is now. The Supchit woman took him one night, took him under the ground, came out on the top of Bohem Puyuk, went down again, came out, travelled by crooked roads westward, crossed the bridge made of one hair, went under the sky to the other side, to the middle house in a large village. She put Keriha in a little room in that house; he has been there ever since, he is there now. He is very weak and will die to-morrow unless some one saves him. Tell Norwanchakus to start to-night and be there in the morning if he wants to save Keriha.'"

"Then Sas put his hand in his bosom and took out a kolchi bisi [sky cap], gave it to me, and said, 'Take this to Norwanchakus, and tell him to give it to Tsiwihl for his trouble.' Sas gave me also a piece of the sky. 'This is for Tsiwihl, too,' said he; 'let him wear it on his breast for a blue facing.'"

Norwanchakus gave these to Tsiwihl, and then made him a blanket of oak leaves. He wears all these things to this day.

"My cousin, are you sure that Sas said this?" asked Norwanchakus.

"I am sure. Sas told me all this."

"Wait now, my cousin." Norwanchakus went northeast, stretched his hand out; an armful of kuruti (silkweed which grows at the end of the world) came on it. "Now, my cousin," said he, "I will pay you well for your trouble. All your life you can make as much rope as you like of this kuruti, and you can go up on it anywhere,--north, south, east, or west."

Norwanchakus started at midnight, and went westward quickly. He knew the way well. He crossed ridges and valleys, pa.s.sed places where he had found tracks of Keriha and lost them, went to the bridge of one hair, sprang from the bank to the middle of the bridge. The bridge swayed and swayed. Underneath was a wide, rushing river, but Norwanchakus did not fall. With one spring more he touched the other bank, ran swiftly till he reached the big village beyond the sky. He saw the chief house, ran in through its door at the east, went to the little room, and found Keriha with his head on the palm of the Supchit woman's hand. He caught his brother and rushed out, shot past all the people, and stopped only when he was far outside the village.

"Now, my brother," said he, "you told me always that you knew something great, that you wanted to do something great, that you wanted to be something great. What have you been doing here thirty years? I have looked for you everywhere. You never let me know where you were."

"Oh, my brother," said Keriha, "I am so drowsy, I was sleeping, I didn't know where I was."