Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 37

Norwanchakus crossed the river at a bound, without touching the bridge of one hair. He went on then, never stopped till he reached Keri Buli.

Next morning at daybreak Keriha heard a voice from above. The voice said,--

"Leave that place, Norwanchakus and Keriha. The world will change soon. You two must come here. Leave that place down there quickly."

"Now, my brother," said Keriha, "you are so slow, I don't know where you wish to go, or what you want to do."

"My brother," said Norwanchakus, "I will do the best I can, and do you do the best you can. We have finished our work here. People to come will know the names that you gave to rivers, mountains, rocks, and hills. Hereafter they will call these places by the names we gave them."

While in this world Keriha wore a duck-skin, and when they were ready to go he threw off this skin on the other side of Bohema Mem, and from it have come all the ducks on the rivers of this country.

Norwanchakus had always carried his ash stick from the fish-net. When he was going, he thrust it into the ground at Tsarau Heril. "I will leave this here," said he, "and people to come will make pipes of it."

There is plenty of ash to this day in Tsarau Heril.

At the other side of the sky the brothers parted. Norwanchakus went up on high, and stayed there. Keriha went far away to the east, and is living there now.

KELE AND SEDIT

PERSONAGES

After each name is given that of the creature or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.

=Hinwu=, big owl; =Kele=, mountain wolf; =Klereu Lulimet=, wild lily; =Pili Lulimet=, reed gra.s.s blossom; =Pokok=, ground owl; =Pom Piweki=, crooked land; =Satok Pokaila=, ----; =Sas=, the sun; =Tsurat=, red-headed woodp.e.c.k.e.r; =Tunhlucha=, frog.

In Puidal Winnem lived Kele. Olelbis built a great sweat-house there, and told him to stay in it. Kele was old and lived all alone in that place; lived there a long time, thinking, making up his mind what to do,--he was lonely and thirsty. "Why did Olelbis put me here?" thought he.

Once he rose about daybreak, hurried out, went westward, went to a creek. A great clump of mountain maples stood near the bank. Kele saw a straight stick among all the others. He cut the stick, drew it out, and took off a short piece. On the way home he split the stick, smoothed it, and fixed it as he walked. He put the two sticks overhead in the sweat-house, went out a second time, found a white oak sapling, firm and strong, cut a piece two feet long from it, put it at the hearth. The next day he lay with his back to the fire, lay there all night without sleeping. Just before daybreak he heard steps, and was struck on the back. A minute later he was struck again in the same place. The old man rose then and made a good fire of manzanita wood.

It was daylight, and Kele said: "My children, come to the fire, warm yourselves, sweat, and then swim in the creek."

Two girls came to the fire, warmed themselves standing, and soon they were sweating from heat.

"My daughters," said Kele, "there is a creek near here. Go and swim in it."

These girls were from the stick that Kele had split in two parts and put in the house wall. The girls bathed in the creek, came back, and were good-looking. When they came in, Kele brought venison for his two daughters to eat.

"My daughters," said the old man, "I will tell you something. You must go to work, do good things. There are roots in the woods all around us, roots fit for food. You need to walk. Go out and get roots." They went out to dig wild lily roots. After that they went every morning.

Soon they began to say: "We should like to have other food; we should like to have game to eat. We saw mountain quail to-day; we saw deer."

At last they talked this way every night. Kele listened, thinking what to do. These girls had a nice bed made of skins, and they talked every night to each other; but one night they went to bed early and fell asleep right away. Kele had wished them to sleep; that is why they fell asleep quickly. He hurried down to some mountain-ash trees, went to the middle of them, and cut off five sticks. He whittled these, made them smooth, cut each in two. He had ten smooth sticks then. Next he cut five other sticks. These he left rough; cut them also in two; had ten of them. Kele placed the twenty sticks overhead in the house on the north side, and lay with his back to the fire. The fire was a good one, a hot manzanita fire. His club of green oak was there at the fireplace.

Kele lay without sleeping and waited. He was awake and was thinking.

The two girls were sound asleep all the time. Just before daybreak he heard a sound as if some barefooted person had sprung from above to the floor. Next moment some one took the club and struck him. Another came down in the same way and struck him. Ten times he was struck with the club.

The ten smooth sticks had turned into people. Each man gave him a blow, went to the wall of the house, and sat there. Kele did not rise yet. He heard some one barefoot jump down and seize the club. This one hit Kele once. A second one sprang down and hit him twice, a third three times, a fourth four times, and so on to the tenth, who struck him ten times. There were twenty in all; ten from the smooth and ten from the rough sticks.

The first ten sticks he had whittled smooth, and they made ten good sons, but from the ten untrimmed sticks came ten rough, uproarious sons. Kele hadn't smoothed them, and they struck him many times. When the tenth rough son struck him the last blow, Kele stood up and made a big fire; he could barely move, he had been so beaten with the club.

He lay down then and said,--

"Now, my boys, come here; warm yourselves, dance and sweat, then go to the creek to swim, and come here again." He sang then, and made his sons dance. The boys danced, and hurried to the creek to swim, shouting as they went. They came back to the sweat-house good-looking persons.

The two girls rose now. They knew already what their father had done.

"Go, my daughters, and cook for your brothers," said Kele.

The two sisters made the food ready and placed it before their brothers.

"Now, my sons, eat what we have," said Kele. "You will go out after that, you will hunt, and bring game."

The first ten, the smooth men, had good sense; the second ten were inferior; the ninth and tenth of the second ten were very bad. The first ten took each only one mouthful; of the second ten, the first took one mouthful, the second two, the third three, and so on to the tenth, who took ten mouthfuls. After that they sat back and made ready to go out.

"What are we to do?" asked the first ten. "We have nothing to hunt with."

Kele brought out bows and quivers with arrows, and gave them to each; gave five ropes to them also, ropes of gra.s.s fibre. "You are armed now," said Kele; and he showed them where to set snares for deer.

They went far down to the foot of the mountain and set snares. The ten smooth brothers stood on the mountain top; the second ten, who were rough, drove the deer. "You must shout so that we can hear you all the time," said the smooth brothers. Toward evening the smooth brothers saw deer in the snares. The smooth ten took the bodies, the best of the game; the rough ten the legs, ears, horns, all the poor parts. The smooth ten took the best meat to the house; the rough ten made a great uproar--they had little sense. The two sisters cooked roots and venison for all.

Next morning Kele made a big fire of manzanita wood. "Be up, my boys,"

called he. "Go and swim." That day the twenty stayed at home, and the sisters went for roots.

They lived this way a long time, the brothers hunting, the sisters digging roots and cooking, till at last the sisters wished to see other persons besides their brothers. One day when they went for roots they sat down on the mountain slope. "What are we to do?" said one sister; "we wish to see people, we see no one now but our brothers and father."

That evening, when all had lain down, the elder sister went to Kele and sat near him. "My father," said she, "I wish to know my name."

"Your name is Klereu Lulimet," said Kele; "your sister's name is Pili Lulimet."

She told her sister what their names were. Both liked the names, and were glad to have them. Every day the men sweated and swam, killed deer and snared them. The sisters dug lily roots and cooked them.

One time instead of digging roots they went high on the mountain side and sat there, sat looking westward. They could see very far, and things seemed right there before them, though away off near the edge of the great western water.

This was the first time that the sisters had a chance to see far. Till that day they had only a mountain slope or a forest opening in front of them; now they had the whole country to look at. Just after midday they saw a man going northward, going slowly.

"What a nice man that is! Look at him," said one sister to the other.

He stopped all at once, seemed to sit down and disappear through the earth. That day they saw him no more.

"Oh, we should like to see that man," said the sisters, "and talk to him." They watched, talked, and forgot to dig roots. At last, a short time before sunset, they said, "Let us go for roots!" They ran down the mountain, dug a basketful quickly, and hurried home.

"Oh, father, will you teach us how to sing?" said the younger sister to Kele that evening. "We tried all day to sing. I tried to teach my sister, she tried to teach me. We could do nothing."

"You can sing this way," said Kele, and he began,--