Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 38

"O wi, no a, O wi, no i, O wi, no a, O wi, no i."

"That is good," said she, going away. She said nothing to her sister and lay down.

Soon after the twenty brothers came. Ten of them made a great noise.

The house just trembled and shook from the uproar. The second ten had smeared themselves with deer blood, hung deer entrails around their necks. They looked wild and ferocious. When inside, they were quiet; in going out and coming in they always rushed and shouted.

Next morning Kele kept the twenty brothers in the sweat-house. "Rest a day," said he.

The sisters went to the mountain top and looked westward. Soon they saw some one go toward the north, as on the first day.

"Did our father tell you how to sing?" asked the elder sister.

"He did, but I have forgotten."

She tried to remember the song, and soon after it came to her,--

"O wi, no a, O wi, no i, O wi, no a, O wi, no i."

"This is the way our father sang," said she. "You try it, sister."

The elder began; soon both sang together.

"Oh, we have a nice song now," said they.

Their song went straight to where the man was, a long distance. This man was Sedit. He was getting red earth for acorn bread. Water soaked through red earth was used to moisten acorn meal. Sedit was covered with sh.e.l.ls. He was very splendid to look at. As he dug the earth, it seemed to him that he heard something. He stopped, listened, listened with all his ears. The sisters stopped singing, and he dug again; again he heard the singing and stopped. When he stopped, the sisters ceased to sing; when he dug, they began again. Thus it continued the whole afternoon. They kept Sedit all day there doing little, almost nothing.

Sometime before sunset the sisters dug their roots and went home.

Sedit went home too. He lived at the house of Satok Pokaila.

"What were you doing? I waited all day, forenoon and afternoon, for you. It is too late to make bread now," said Satok.

This old woman lived alone till Sedit in his wanderings came to her and worked, brought wood, and dug red earth for her.

"I got a headache," said he, "and had to lie down all day nearly."

"I am sorry," said the old woman; and she gave him food, but he did not want any. Next day Sedit went for red earth. He did not eat much that morning. He had not slept all the night. He was thinking of that song on the mountain.

That day the sisters went to the mountain top, looked westward. Soon Sedit came to the same place and worked, put two or three handfuls in his basket, heard singing, heard it plainly, stopped, strained his eyes to see who was singing, saw no one. Again he dug, again they sang; again he stopped work, again they ceased singing; again he worked, again they sang. Sedit thinks now how to follow the singers, tries to whistle their music--cannot catch it--looks around, sees no one. "Well, I must sing," says he. He sings, and this time he catches the music.

The sisters sang now in response to him. They moved on, as he thought, and he followed. But they were not moving, they stayed in one place. They simply made their singing seem farther each time.

Sedit followed till they stopped at last, would not sing any longer.

He could not tell what to do. "It is better for me to go back to my basket," said he at last. He went back, put his basket on the bank east of the pit, and said: "Now, my basket, I will leave you a while, I am going away. I place you east of the pit. Rootstick, I place you east of the basket. If Satok Pokaila asks where I am, you will move east, basket, and you will fall east, rootstick. She will know which way I went."

He went eastward, went a short distance, forgot the song, stopped, thought what to do. The song then came back to him. The sisters began to sing again. Sedit followed their song.

Satok Pokaila waited for red earth, waited till midday, then thought, "I'll go and see if Sedit has a headache." She found the basket partly filled with red earth, and the stick standing east of it. She looked in the pit where Sedit had dug, and thought, "He must be here somewhere." She searched, but could not find him.

"Where is Sedit?" asked she of the basket. "Where did he go?--Where is Sedit?" asked she of the rootstick.

The basket moved eastward till it reached the stick, the stick fell toward the east. Old Satok knew now what had happened. She took the basket and digging-stick home with her, put them up safely.

Sedit followed the sisters, sang himself, and listened to their song.

The song went southward, went away from the mountain. He followed till he reached Tayam Norel. Sedit sat down. People asked where he came from, where he was going. He would not tell, would not talk, did not care for people's words. He thought of nothing, heard nothing but the song of Kele's daughters.

He sat only a little while, and went away singing and listening to the song of the sisters. Now it went eastward. He followed it to a mountain, where he saw an old man setting a trap. This was old Pokok.

"Uncle, where are you going in such a great hurry?" asked Pokok.

"I am going east," replied Sedit. "You will not see me pa.s.s this way again."

He hurried down the mountain, crossed a creek, and went straight up another mountain; was just at the top, when he saw a very big man coming toward him on the right hand as Sedit was going east. Sedit stopped, looked, was afraid somewhat. The two stared at each other.

The stranger was very tall and very thick. Sedit was frightened. The big man never stopped, went straight ahead westward. Sedit looked at him a long time, didn't move, watched him going down the mountain.

After he had gone Sedit stood a long time, and then sat down.

"Why did he not speak to me?" thought Sedit. "He is the first person I have met who wouldn't speak to me. Who is he? I should like to know."

Sedit sat and thought all that day about the big man. He heard the song always, at times very near him, but he thought so much about the big man that he didn't follow it. He wondered if the big man would come again, and said to himself, "I will wait and see."

About night Sedit thought, "If he comes and will not speak to me, I'll kill him." All night he waited. He rose very early, had not slept any.

About sunrise he saw a man coming from afar, from the east, moving westward. Sedit watched, had his bow and arrows ready. It was he who would not speak the day before. Sedit shot him in the breast, shot again. The big man paid no heed, pa.s.sed right along. Sedit shot twenty arrows. The stranger looked all the time at Sedit, said nothing. Sedit shot twenty arrows more--spent all his arrows.

After he had shot away the forty arrows, and the man had pa.s.sed right close to him, Sedit sat down and thought, "Who is this that I cannot kill him?" He thought a long time, and then knew that he must be Sas Kiemila.

It was old Sas. Sas had been fooling Sedit, just as Kele's daughters had fooled him.

Sedit heard the song again, and followed it. He went to the Bohema Mem at Sawal Pom, went up Norken Mem till he came to Hin Pom where he heard a great noise. Many people were dancing there.

"Oh, there is Sedit coming," said they. "Where is he going so fast?"

"Uncle, where are you going in such a great hurry?" asked one of the men. "What news have you? Tell us what you have seen on your journey."

"I am travelling this country to look at it. I saw no one, can give you no tidings of any one. I shall not pa.s.s this way again."

The man who spoke and the dancers were Hinwa people. Sedit rushed on, came to a flat, saw a spring, and many persons drinking water.

"My grandsons, what are you doing, why do you drink so much water?

Water is bad for young people" (these people were birds of all sorts).

Sedit called the place Chilchil balus (bird drinking). He went on without stopping or talking,--had no time for either. He listened, heard the singing near a hill, ran there; heard talking of many people, the Tsurats arguing about acorns.

Sedit pa.s.sed these people, crossed the Norken Mem, ran along the trail, came to an old man lying across it at the foot of a mountain.

Sedit, going fast, thought to jump over the old man, but he moved, and Sedit stopped. "Grandson, what are you doing?" asked Sedit. This was Pom Piweki. "I cannot tell what to do," said Pom. "I am old, I cannot travel; so I lay down here."

"I will go on," said Sedit, "and come back this way, I think." He heard the song nearer now; followed it, followed till sunset, when it ceased. He stayed all night in that place.

Next morning, some time after sunrise, the song began again. Sedit answered, and followed it. Then it ceased; he stopped again; then the song began a second time; he followed; the song ceased. The song circled around the mountain, going a little higher gradually; sometimes it was near, sometimes it seemed far away, but he never came up to it.

After wandering ten days, perhaps, he reached the top of the mountain by going round and round the side of it. The singing was in the mountain now all the time. He was on the highest part of Kele's sweat-house. Kele, his twenty sons, and two daughters were inside, and the girls and old man knew that some one was walking on the roof of their sweat-house. Kele's sons went out each morning, and so did his daughters. Although they were many, Sedit never saw one of them,--they fooled him. At last, when Sedit was on the mountain, Kele shouted,--