Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 59

and she followed on, followed quickly.

The brother, when he smoked the second time, sat at a little spring on the western slope of the mountain ridge; the sister reached the ridge from the top; she saw her brother a little below her. He heard some one behind, looked up, and saw t.i.tildi Marimi. He held his head down, he said nothing.

"I shall be with you soon," cried the sister. "We can go on together.

You have come a long way to find a good smoking-place."

He said nothing, looked at the ground, waited for his sister. Soon she was there with him.

"My brother, I am tired," said she, "give me tobacco; I wish to smoke."

He gave her tobacco; she smoked.

"My brother," said t.i.tildi Marimi, "I want you to shoot at that quartz rock over there on the mountain side."

He raised his bow with an arrow and took good aim.

"Now hit that rock," said she.

He sent one arrow, after it a second, and then a third. They hit the rock, but bounded back from it.

"You might go a long way to hurt an enemy with arrows of that sort!"

laughed the sister. "Do you think those good arrows, my brother? You will see enemies enough in two days; you will see enemies in the house of Wakara."

She drew out her own bow then, took an arrow from her otter-skin quiver, and said, "Look now at me, my brother!"

She shot at the rock; hit it. Her arrow shivered the rock to pieces.

"This is what my arrows do!" said t.i.tildi Marimi.

t.i.tindi Maupa hung his head; said not a word, but rose and went down the mountain side till he came to a creek; then he crossed another mountain, going westward all the time till he was in sight of Wakaruwa, the place to which he was going; then he sat down a third time and smoked.

"O smoke," said he, "I wish you to make friends to-night and to-morrow for me."

He looked down into the valley, where he heard much noise; he saw many people playing games and shooting.

Just before this Wakara had called his youngest daughter, Paiowa, and said, "I want you to gather oak leaves for the acorn bread, and red earth to mix in it."

She went with a basket on her back, went up to the mountain side, gathered red earth to mix with the acorn flour and make the bread light. The leaves were to be put on the top of the dough and cover the bread while baking. t.i.tindi Maupa put his sister with her quiver in an otter-skin and carried her. She had made herself small, and seemed just like an otter; he hid her on his shoulder in this form.

Paiowa, Wakara's youngest daughter, had put red earth in her basket and filled it with leaves. She turned around now to stoop and raise it, but could not, it was too heavy.

t.i.tindi Maupa had slipped up and was holding the basket. She turned to see what the trouble was, and saw him right there almost touching her.

"Oh!" cried she, frightened and dropping her head; she was shamefaced before the stranger.

"Why are you afraid?" asked t.i.tindi Maupa. "Is it because I am ugly?"

She raised the basket to her back, and rushed away. When she reached Wakaruwa, she threw down the basket outside, and ran into the house past her mother.

"Why are you so frightened? What is the matter?" asked her mother.

Not a word did she answer.

Old Wakara was sitting inside. "Why are you frightened, my daughter?"

asked he. "Has anything happened, has any one hurt you?"

"I saw a man over there on the mountain."

"What kind of man was he?" asked Wakara.

"He has an otter on his back and wears buckskin; his hands are both red with deer blood."

t.i.tindi Maupa had a large piece of fat venison in his otter-skin quiver.

"He is a good hunter, I think," said Wakara; and he took down an otter-skin, put it on the north side of the house, and said to his daughter, "Sit there and let this man come to you."

It was night soon. All the people came into the house, sat down, and ate supper. t.i.tindi Maupa stopped outside for a while, and found a place where Wakara stored acorns. "I will leave you here for this night," said he to his sister. "To-morrow I will come to get you."

t.i.tindi Maupa left his sister in the acorn crib, sank in the ground then, and came up inside the sweat-house right at the side of Paiowa.

Old Wakara laughed when he saw him sitting near his daughter. He was glad.

"Give the stranger food," said he.

Paiowa brought food and gave it to the stranger.

t.i.tindi Maupa ate some and said, "Look in my otter-skin, I have some venison."

She put her hand in, found a good piece, a nice saddle of venison.

She could not draw the piece out, it was so heavy. She went then to her father and said, "I must have a big basket."

She took a large tray basket over to her place. t.i.tindi Maupa drew out the venison and put it on the tray, saying,--

"Now, be no smaller, my venison, stay as you are, no matter how much they take from you."

Two girls carried the basket and put it down before Wakara and Hemauna Marimi, his wife. The two old people ate. After them all in the house ate, and the saddle of venison was as large as at first. When all in the house had eaten, old Wakara went out on the housetop and shouted,--

"My sons, I call you all to come in for a short while."

Now, all the stars in the sky were Wakara's children; they were his sons and daughters. The greatest, a son, came in first. When near the house, he had caught the odor of venison. Behind him came a great many people. All the stars were in Wakara's sweat-house; the whole place was filled with them. When they looked and saw t.i.tindi Maupa sitting with their sister, they laughed. They were glad. Some sat down; others cut off the venison and roasted it. All ate what they wanted.

Now, old Wakara himself cut off venison, and gave a large share to each son to carry home for his wife and children. All went away laughing.

t.i.tindi Maupa rose before dawn the next morning, took a deer head, and went hunting to a mountain. He put on the head. Deer came and stood before him, ten, then ten more, and soon there were a hundred. He killed the hundred deer. Taking the smallest, he opened it, made the others very little, and put them into the small one, which he carried in one hand.

All were sleeping in the sweat-house when t.i.tindi Maupa came. He threw down the small deer, and the ninety-nine others were as big as at first; they burst out of the small one, made a great noise, and filled all the s.p.a.ce before the sweat-house. Wakara's wife had got up to make acorn bread. She tried to go out, but could not, there were so many deer lying around everywhere. She hurried back and called her husband.

"There is something outside," said she; "I do not know what it is. Get up and look, get up quickly!"

Wakara went out and saw piles of deer; he ran back, took his knife and sharpened it. Then going to the top of the house, he called to the whole village, "Come here; come, all of you!"