Creation Myths of Primitive America, by Jeremiah Curtin, , at sacred-texts.com
This myth, which recalls the Helen of Troy tale, is extremely interesting both as regards personages and structure. At present I shall make but few remarks, and those relating only to personages. Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine, known here as Norwan, is the cause of the first war in the world. The porcupine in American mythology is always connected with sunlight, so far as my researches go, and Norwan is connected with daylight, for she dances all day, never stops while there is light. Her title of Bastepomas, food-giving, is also significant, and would help to show that she is that warm, dancing air which we see close to the earth in fine weather, and which is requisite for plant growth. We have another "light" person in this myth, Sanihas, who is light in a generic sense, daylight generally and everywhere. The root Sa in Sanihas is identical with Sa in Sas, the Wintu word for "sun." Sa means "light" and Sas "for light," i. e. for the purpose of giving light. Sanihas is the light which is given.
In Bastepomas, the title given by Olelbis to Norwan, the first syllable ba means "to eat," bas means "for to eat" or food, tep means "to give," and tepomas "she who gives;" the whole word means "she who gives food."
Chulup Win Herit, the great chief, the white, pointed stone who lives on the bed of the great eastern water, the ocean, the husband of Sanihas, has a counterpart in Tithonos, the husband of Eos or Aurora, in classic mythology. Both had beautiful wives, and were visited by them nightly in the bed of the ocean. Chulup's tragedy is somewhat greater, for he is caught by Wai Karili and pounded into bits near the present Mt. Shasta, while Tithonos is only changed into a cricket. Eos, the Latin Aurora, was considered as the whole day by most poets, and Sanihas in Wintu mythology is the whole day, all the light that Sas gives.
There was a reason why Norwan preferred Tede Wiu to Norbis, but we can only infer it at present. The present Wiu bird is
brown, and has no significance in this connection, but there was a red Wiu, the bird into which the Tede Wiu who fought with Norbis was changed. That he was a person who might be preferred by Norwan, herself a special form of light, is evident when we consider the immense importance in European tradition of the robin-redbreast and of the red-headed woodpecker among Indians.
That Norwan, food-giving light on the earth, was worth fighting for, is evident.
After each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.
Bisus, mink; Boki, sturgeon; Búlibok, a small nighthawk; Chali Dokos, obsidian; Chali Wai Halina, pine-nut bug; Chir Chuma, sucker; Cho, blackbird; Chuchu, dog; Chulup Win, a pointed rock; Chutuhl, a small bird that goes in flocks; Dokos, flint; Dokos Hilit, flint fly; Hamam, the longest black feather in the tail of the black vulture; Hau, red fox; Hawt, eel; Héssiha, tomtit; Hlihli, acorn; Hluyuk Tikimit, quivering porcupine; Ho, polecat; Hokohas, mud turtle; Hus, turkey buzzard; Kahi Buli Pokaila, wind mountain old woman; Kahit, wind; Kaisus, gray squirrel; Kar, blue heron; Karili, coon; Katsi, chicken hawk; Kaukau, white heron; Kawas, basket; Keli, flint from which knives are made; Kichi Not, a kind of arrow; Kíchuna, a small bird that frequents rocks; Kilichepis, ----; Kiri Hubit, a kind of wasp; Kobalus, a shell; Koip, a small bird which calls "koip"; Kopus, a small night-owl; Kot, diver; Kóyumus, a flint of mixed colors; Kukupiwit, crooked breast; Nomdal Lenas, streaks in the west; Nomel Hiwili, a bird with white-tipped wings which comes down with a buzz very quickly; Nom Sowiwi, ----; Nom Toposloni, west fir bark; Norbis, dwelling or sitting in the south; Nórhara Chepmis, heavy south wind with rain; Norpatsas, southern fire sparks; Norwan, ----; Notudui Ulumus, he stoops and picks up stones; Pai Homhoma, he buzzes in the manzanita; Patkilis, jack rabbit; Puiké Tsumu, a deep red flint; Saiai Not, hollow arrow; Saias, white flint; Sánihas, daylight; Sau, acorn bread; Sawe, mixed white and blue flint; Sedit, coyote; Séhinom Chábutu, chicken hawk; Serin Dólite, small bumblebee; Siriwit, whirlwind; Sútunut, black eagle; Tede Wiu, a small brown bird about as large as an English sparrow; Tenek Not, a kind of arrow; Tidok, ant; Tsánteris, a kind of shell; Tsotso tokos, a small very adhesive burr; Tsudi, mouse; Tsuini, a kind of small fish; Tubuk, ----; Tuichi kelis, feathered head net; Wai Charatawa,
[paragraph continues] ---; Waida Werris, polar star; Wainom Yola, northwestern snow; Wai Hau, northern red fox; Wai Not, northern arrow; Wik, small night hawk; Wai Karili, northern coon; Wul Wuhl linnet; Yípokus, black fox.
At a place east of Pas Puisono a woman came up out of the earth. Her name was Hluyuk Tikimit. She had another name, Pom Norwanen Pitchen. We call her also Norwan.
She appeared before the present Wintu people came out of the ground, at Tsarau Heril.
"I am in this world now," said Norwan to herself; "I will look around everywhere to see from what places people are coming."
She lived alone in her sweat-house, which was called Norwan Buli Hlut, remained in the house and danced during daylight.
Olelbis looked down at this woman and said,--
"This is my sister, who has come up before the new people on earth. I don't know what she will do yet."
When Olelbis was building his sweat-house in Olelpanti, he cut a piece from a white-oak tree, and this piece rolled down outside the sky to the lower world, where it became a people in Nor Puiken, in the southeast, and that people were there before the present Wintus came out of the ground at Tsarau Heril.
"My dear sister has come up before the Wintus, and will be with them hereafter," said Olelbis. "I have not settled yet how her work is to be, have not made her ready for it."
He put his hand toward the southeast then, and took yósoŭ (a plant that has a red blossom). He gave this plant to Norwan, and said,--
"Take this, my sister, and when you dance use it as a staff. It will have a blossom on the top which will be blooming always."
He reached southeast to the same place, took a small bird, plucked a feather from each wing, gave the feathers to Norwan, and said,--
"My sister, thrust these through your hair, just above your forehead, one on each side. These feathers will begin to sing in the morning early; you will know by them at what time you must begin to dance."
He stretched his hand again to the southeast, and took buri luli, which is a little red blossom that grows in spring on a plant about a foot high. He gave the blossoms to Norwan and said,--
"Roll this in your hands, crush it, put the juice on your face, and make your cheeks red."
Olelbis turned then to his grandmothers, who were standing near by, and asked if they had acorns.
"We have," said they. "We have plenty."
Olelbis took a handful, gave them to his sister, and said,--
"When you shell these acorns, rub them between your palms and hold your hands open; blow the dust which scatters; you will see it rise high into the trees, and acorns will come on them."
It was on the first morning after she had come to Norwan Buli that Olelbis gave Norwan the staff, feathers, blossoms, and acorns. On the second
morning very early the feathers began to sing; then flocks of birds of their kind came flying toward the sweat-house, and Norwan heard a voice far up in the sky calling to her, and saying,--
"My brother's daughter, you have come upon earth before the Wintu people, and are dancing. When you dance you must not look toward the west, nor the north, nor the south, but turn your face and look toward Hlihli Pui Hlutton in the southeast, the place from which your staff and your paint came."
While this man was talking, Norwan looked up and saw him sitting with one leg crossed upon the other. He was holding a handful of white-oak acorns in his hand, and was sitting over the door of the sweat-house in Olelpanti. It was Kar Kiemila.
"Now, my brother," said Olelbis to Hessiha, who lived with him in Olelpanti, "I think it is best for you to go down to our sister and stay with her. Live with her always. When your feathers drop away or are pulled off hereafter, they will become like you, and there will be hessihas on the earth everywhere. Our sister will tell you what to do. You will stay with her, never leave her. The people will call our sister Bastepomas, because she is the food-giving woman. When you see anything, let her know; when you hear anything, tell her; when you want to do anything, ask leave of her."
Hessiha went down to live with his sister. Next day he saw a woman coming from the east and going west. He told Norwan, and she said,--
"Watch which way she goes, my brother. Perhaps she will come to us here."
He watched. She came straight to Norwan Buli.
"My younger sister," said she to Norwan, "I came out in the east, but I don't like to live there. I have left that place, and am going far away to the west. In the evening look westward, a little after sunset, you will see a red, yellow, and white person, Nomdal Lenas Loimis. I am she. I shall look nice. That is the kind of person that I am. I shall live in the west always, and you will see me there as streaks of colored light. I will turn my face to the east every evening on pleasant days, and all the Wintu people will say when they see me, 'Winis Nomdal Lenas Loimis'" (look at Nomdal Lenas Loimis).
"Very well," said Norwan, "I am glad to hear what you say, my elder sister."
Nomdal Lenas went off to the west. She was an immensely large woman with a big face, her hair was cut across her forehead, and this made it look beautiful. She was the first woman in the world who cut her hair in that fashion. Her face was painted in streaks of red, yellow, and white.
Next morning Hessiha saw another woman coming from the east. She stopped at Norwan Buli, and said,--
"My younger sister, we came upon this earth at the same time, before the Wintu people. I am going to the west a little distance. I came out in the east, but I did not like the place there. I am
going to Bohem Buli. I will stay there and live on the north side of the mountain. I will be a mountain woman. My name is Kukupiwit Pokte."
She went to Bohem Buli.
Norwan danced always during daylight, never stopped in the daytime, never rested till evening.
Norbis Kiemila, the white oak which rolled to the southeast, looked toward the northwest and saw Norwan. "I see my wife on this earth," said he.
One evening Hessiha and Norwan were in the sweat-house, and Hessiha said,--
"My sister, I have heard news to-day from Norbis Kiemila. He says that you are to be his wife."
She said nothing, and Hessiha talked on My sister, I heard a man say that he would come to see you. He lives at Sonomyai--he is Sedit, Sedit of Sonomyai."
"My brother," said Norwan, "what are you telling me?"
"I am telling you, my sister, what I have heard. Sedit is coming."
"Why does he come? I don't like him. He has a bad breath."
Next morning Norwan rose and began to dance.
"My sister," said Hessiha, that evening, "I hear that a man is coming from Chanahl Puyuk, a good man. His name is Kaukati Herit. He is coming to see you."
"Why does he come here?" asked Norwan. "His neck is too long, his legs are too long."
"Well, my sister, I have heard that a man who lives far away west is coming to see you, Kobalus Herit. He is a good man. He lives at Nomken Kobalus Waimemton."
"That man has a crooked nose," said Norwan, "and a crooked mouth. I don't like him, he is all twisted."
Next evening Hessiha said,
"There is a man who lives at the same place as Kobalus Herit. He wants to see you. His name is Tsanteris Herit."
"That man has a hollow breast," said Norwan. "I don't like him."
"A man from the far north is coming, Keli Herit."
"I don't like him," said Norwan; "he has a bad odor. He smells like the earth."
"A man from way down south, Bisus Herit, is coming to see you."
"Oh, I don't like him; his legs are too short; he eats bony fish."
"My sister, a man is coming who lives a short distance south of us, Tede Wiu Herit."
"I don't like him; he has too much breast; it sticks out too much."
"My sister, Katsi Herit, is coming."
"I know him," said Norwan. "He is too quick-tempered: he gets angry too easily."
"Chati Wai Halina Herit is coming to see you.
"I don't like him; he smells of pitch always.
"I must go now for wood; we have no wood this
evening," said Norwan, and she went out to bring some. She brought an armful, and while going to the same place for a second bundle she heard some one coming. A man took her by the arm. She turned, and saw Sedit of Sonomyai dressed beautifully. She pushed him away and ran home. Sedit did not follow her.
Next morning early she went out, and looking at one side of the door saw two stones lying there, and a hooked stick four or five feet long, called lakus, used to pull a limb of a tree toward you. She broke the stones to pieces, broke the stick, threw the pieces in the fire, and burned them. She knew that some man had put them there and intended to come. That night she was lying on the south side of the sweat-house and her brother on the north. It was dark, and they heard some one coming toward the house. The stranger came in, sat down behind Hessiha, sat with his head between his hands; his hair was sticking out, and looked as though it had never been combed. Norwan looked at this person, never took her eyes from him, but said not a word, and he said nothing. After a while he stood up and walked out. While going he threw something toward Norwan. It fell near her, and she picked it up. It was a small net bag half full of mice. She threw it after the stranger. He was Chati Wai Halina.
When morning came, Norwan took a bundle of brush, went to where the visitor had sat, swept the place clean, and threw fresh earth on it.
The next night they heard some one walking outside. Soon a man came in. He had a quiver in his hand made of deerskin. He looked around and went over behind the place where Norwan was lying and sat down. She lay there looking at him. After sitting awhile he lay down, stayed all night, and went away just at daybreak. This was Norbis Kiemila.
In the early morning before dancing she built a fire outside and sat down at it. That same morning Hessiha saw a man coming toward them, coming from the southeast. When he came to where Norwan was at the fire, he sat down. His name was Serin Dolite. He wore a bunch of fresh leaves on each side of his head. He had a second name, Pai Homhoma.
"My sister," said this man, "I have come because my uncle sent me to tell you that the people at Hlihli Pui Hlutton finished talking yesterday, and they are going to have a great feast and a pleasant time. 'Tell my niece,' said he, 'to come and dance with us.' My uncle is Kopus Kiemila. He is named also Pui Uhlukyo. He is a Hlahi. He sent word to Norbis two days ago, and he sent word to Kaukau Herit. He has sent word everywhere. There will be a great many people in Hlihli Pui Hlutton. He has sent word to Sedit, who lives at Sonomyai, and to Katsi Herit, who lives opposite Pas Puisono, and to Kobalus Herit and Tsanteris Herit and Keli Herit and to Tede Wiu Herit, who lives at Koĭ Nomsono, and many others. He has sent to your brother Waida Werris. Waida
[paragraph continues] Werris may come; he may not. Kopus Kiemila wants you to come surely."
"Very well," said Norwan, "I will go tomorrow."
Serin Dolite was satisfied and went away.
"Now, my little brother," said Norwan to Hessiha that night, "I am going away to-morrow. You will stay here, I hope. I shall be glad if you stay at home and take care of this house."
When she rose in the morning, she stretched her right hand toward the southeast and got buri luli, which are very beautiful red flowers. She put her hand there a second time, and to her hand came hawe luli, pure white blossoms, for clothing. A third time she put her hand out, and hluyuk luli, which are the star flowers, came on it. These she put around her head as a garland, and made shoes of the same flowers. Then she took her staff yósoŭ.
"My brother," said she, when dressed, "I am ready to go."
"My brother's daughter," called Kar Kiemila from Olelpanti when she was starting, "go and dance. I will sit here and look at you." Sweathouse doors look toward the south usually, but the great one above, made by Olelbis, on which Kar Kiemila was sitting, had its door in the east, because Olelbis took most of his beautiful things from the southeast, and he could look down in that direction from the door of his house in Olelpanti. The door in Hlihli Pui Hlutton was toward the west, because from that door they could
see the great house in Olelpanti. The house built by Olelbis was the best in all the world, above or below. Kopus Kiemila's house was second to it, and the best in the lower land.
Norwan went at the time appointed, and Hessiha stayed behind at Norwan Buli. When Serin Dolite brought the invitation, Norwan made him promise to meet her on the road.
"You must come," said she, "to give me news before I reach the sweat-house."
Just at the edge of a place called Pui Toror, Serin Dolite ran out and met Norwan.
"Oh, my sister," said he, "Kopus Kiemila sent me to say to you to come quickly, to hurry. The people from every place are there now. All those have come of whom I told you, except Norbis and your brother Waida Werris; they have not come yet. Besides others, Boki Kiemila from Hlop Henmenas has come. You must hurry as much as you can, and come quickly."
When he had given the message, he rushed back and left Norwan to travel at her own pace. She went along the top of Pui Toror, and came to a spot where she heard much laughing and talking. Soon she saw a large crowd of children playing. The ground was smooth,--no rocks, no grass, just level land. When she came up, the children said to her,--
"Our elder sister, we want to see the dance. We want to go to the sweat-house, but we have nothing to wear; we have no clothes and we can get none."
The girls were all of the Tsudi--people, the boys, Patkilises. Norwan looked around and saw at some distance a great many sunflower leaves.
"We took leaves like those," said one of the boys, "and tried to put them on as ears, but we could not make them stay."
Norwan stretched her hand southward, and gray fog which rises from water came on it. She put this fog on a Patkilis boy to wear. She stretched her hand to the east, and red and yellow feathers came to it. Of these she made ears for that Patkilis boy. She put her hand south and found willow catkins, white ones, and made a tail and put it on the Patkilis boy. She gave him shoes made of the catkins. When that one boy was dressed, she said, "Let all the others be like this one;" and that moment all Patkilis boys were like him.
Now she took acorn mould, green and brown, put it on one of the Tsudi girls. She took yósoŭ leaves from her staff (the leaves are like mice ears), and put them on the girl for ears. She took more acorn mould, rubbed and rolled it out like a little stick, and made a tail. When one Tsudi girl was dressed nicely, she said, "Let all the others be like this one;" and that moment they were like her.
"Now, sister," said they, "we are ready."
Norwan started, and all the Tsudi girls and Patkilis boys went with her. When they came to the door of the sweat-house, they looked around and saw that all the trees were full of fresh, beautiful acorns; the top of the house was covered with them. There were piles and piles of acorns inside and
around the sweat-house, and a little way off a great many trees were loaded with fruit.
From Olelpanti they could see down into Hlihli Puihlutton. All persons who had come were inside. Norwan looked in and saw many people, all looking toward the door.
"See Norwan coming," said they. "She is beautiful,--oh, she is beautiful!"
Kopus Kiemila was on the south side, near the door. He had five sacks of acorns near him. He was singing over them, singing about health and soundness. When he saw Norwan, he said,--
"Come in; come in, my brother's daughter. You are one of the last. All have come but two."
She went beyond Kopus to a seat. A young woman who was sitting near rose and said,--
"Come, my sister; come and sit with me."
This was Hlihli Loimis. Her brother Hlihli Herit stood always on top of Kopus's house and called, "Hai! Hai!" which means "Come! Come!" and beckoned with his hand for people to enter.
Norwan sat down at the south side of the door, and all the Tsudi and Patkilis children took their places behind her.
"You are almost the last to come," said Hlihli Loimis. "Look at the north side of the house. See how many people are there. See the light; that is Kaukau Herit. He is white and shining; light beams from him."
"Now," said Kopus, "all you people from the
north, my sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law, make ready to dance."
The northern people rose at his call and danced. Kaukau Herit danced. When he rose and moved, it was as when a light is brought into a dark place. He danced five times and sat down.
"Now, my sons-in-law," said Kopus, "sit back and look on. My sons-in-law from the west, you will dance now; dance you, Katsi Herit and Sedit of Sonomyai, and dance you, my daughters-in-law."
The western people danced; Sedit, Boki, all danced. While they were dancing, they dropped beautiful shells. These shells fell from them as snow falls from the sky, and the whole floor was covered with shells, just as mountains in winter are covered with snow.
"Now sit back and look on," said Kopus. The western people sat down.
"My sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law," called Kopus to the southern people, "make ready to dance."
The two Tede Wiu brothers from Koĭ Nomsono were to lead the southern people in the dance. Kopus called five times; the southern people did not move. Then the elder Tede Wiu made a step and stopped; when he raised his foot to take a second step, all began to dance. Both brothers carried a load of mempak on their arms, and each had a flint knife. As they danced they attached long strings of mempak to one side of the house higher than a man's head; they extended the strings to the other side and tied them
there. They stretched mempak in this way from side to side as they danced, and from end to end, lengthwise and crosswise; then they danced under it. The beautiful strings were shining in every color just above their heads. The music, the mempak, and the dancing were so beautiful that all were. delighted; all people were glad; they could hardly sit still and look on.
The brothers danced up to where Kopus was sitting, took strings of shell and mempak from their necks and heads, and put them down before him; next they put down their two beautiful knives. When they had done this they danced away to the other end of the sweat-house, and then danced up again to where Kopus was.
Norwan rose and began to dance without knowing it. She could not help dancing. Every one looked at her. She danced with the two brothers, danced away to the other side of the house with them. Only after a time did she see that she was dancing.
The two brothers sat down; she sat with them. Then the three stood up and went out.
They had just gone when Norbis came in. He was splendidly dressed, wore mempak, had a garland of fresh young leaves on his head, and on the top of it mempak. He sat down and asked some one near by,--
"Where is my wife?"
"Norwan has gone with the two Tede Wiu brothers."
"I don't believe that!" said Norbis.
He sprang up, went around, and asked others. All said, "She is with the Tede Wiu brothers."
At last Norbis went out, taking his people. They had gone into the house, but had not danced. They followed at his call. He went swiftly to the northwest to overtake the two brothers.
The dance was at an end. All started home. Daylight was near.
The two brothers did not go to Norwan Buli Hlut, which was farther north than Kol Nomsono. They kept the woman at their own house till morning. When they reached home each of the brothers said,--
"My people, be ready for a great hunt at daybreak."
When daylight came the elder brother said,
"Come, my people, we will eat together. You must all eat with me this morning."
While eating they heard shouts on the west bank of Bohema Mem, and soon they saw two men running toward them,--men finely dressed, with plumes on their beads. The men crossed the river, and came to the house of the Tede Wius. They were the Wul Wuhl brothers.
"We are here to tell you," said they, "that Norbis is very angry. He has roused all his people, and they are coming. He has sent us to tell you that he is beyond the Bohema Mem waiting for you. Norbis asks you to send out that woman to him."
The brothers said nothing.
"If you give her, he will go home; if not, he will fight with you."
"We cannot give her," said the elder Tede Wiu. "We did not go to the dance for her; we did not take her away from it. She came with us of her own will. If we give her away, she may come back right away to us. She can go where she likes, but we will not give her to any one."
The two messengers took this answer to Norbis.
"I believe this man will come against us," said each of the brothers. They went into the house and brought out elkskin armor. 1
"Come, my people," said the elder, "take these, put them on."
They brought out more and more armor of untanned elkskin, and the people began to make ready for battle. It was not long till they saw two other men coming. These did not cross the river. They stood on the western bank and shouted,--
"Be ready! Prepare for battle Norbis asks you to come to the river and cross. We will fight you on this side."
When the brothers heard this, their people put on the elkskins and hastened. The brothers left Norwan in their house, and bound it outside with mempak. The whole house was covered with mempak; no one could get out, no one could go in, they thought.
This done, the brothers crossed the river with their men. They looked down toward the south, and saw Norbis with his people moving along on
the western bank of Bohema Mem, and they extended as far as the eye could see.
"There are none there but Norbis and his people," said the Wul Wuhl brothers; "they are not all like him, but they are all his people."
The forces met, and both sides began to fight at once, and fought stubbornly. Norbis drove the Tede Wiu brothers to the edge of the water, but they rallied at the river bank and drove back his forces. A second time Norbis pushed them to the river; a second time they rallied and drove him back, drove back all his people. They fought all day, each side driving the other in turn. It was a hard and bloody battle; many were killed on both sides. Neither won, and both were very angry. When night came the Tede Wiu brothers said,--
"We will stop for to-day. If you wish to fight to-morrow, we will meet you here."
"I will meet you here," answered Norbis.
The Tede Wiu brothers went home. They found Norwan where they had left her, fastened in with mempak. That evening, when all were assembled and were talking, the elder brother said:
"My people, if they want to fight to-morrow we will fight with them."
He called a messenger then and said,--
"Go you and tell my brother Sehinom Chabatu to come and help me, and to come early in the morning. Go also to Waiti Nomken, a place on the upper Bohema Mem, to two women Kawas Loimis; let them know that we are fighting. On this side of their house lives Chir Chuma, a lame
man; let him know. Opposite Pas Puisono lives Katsi Herit. Tell him to come early to-morrow. A short distance from Tsarau Heril lives Wik Herit. Tell him to be here. These are all great men, and each will bring his people. There is a man who lives at Kilichepin Kenharas. Kilichepis is his name. Tell him to come with his people. There is a man who lives at Sudi Sawul. His name is Tuichi Kelis. Tell this man that I expect him early with his people. All these big men will help us greatly."
Norbis sent messengers to his friends. They went southeast, south and southwest. He sent southeast to Saias Saias Herit and south for Hus Herit. He sent for Karili Herit; for Tcutuhl Herit.
Next morning about daylight the friends of the Tede Wiu brothers came. All came who had been called, each bringing his own people. Friends came to Norbis in the same way; none of those invited failed on either side.
When all Tede Wiu's friends had come, the elder brother confined Norwan as on the first day. He bound the house all around with mempak. They started then, and crossed the river with many people. Chir Chuma had come. He was so lame that he could not walk, and had two men to carry him. These were the two Siriwit brothers (whirlwinds). (The whirlwinds were people at that time.)
The Siriwits carried Chir Chuma on two sticks. He sat on the sticks. One brother held the sticks behind, and the other in front. They moved
around with great speed, and travelled as easily on water as on land. When the two brothers had crossed the river, they saw two more lame men, one coming from the north, Chali Dokos: he was carried by Wainot Herit. The other was Sawi Herit; he was coming from the west, carried by Kichinot Herit.
After Tede Wiu's forces had crossed the river, the Wul Wuhl brothers came from Norbis, and said,--
"There are many people coming from the south with Norbis to-day. You will have a heavy battle."
Sehinom. saw the southern people coming, and said to the elder Tede Wiu,--
"My brother, I will be with you all the time. I will guard you."
Three of Tede Wiu's men, Wik Herit, Tuichi Kelis, and Kilichepis, said,--
"We will go together. We will go to the eastern side, near the river, and take our people with us."
When going they turned to the Wul Wuhl brothers or Norbis's men, and said,--
"Tell Saias Saias Herit, Koip Herit, and Tsutsu Herit to come toward the river. We will fight them there."
"I will," said the elder Wul Wuhl; and turning to Chir Chuma, he said: "There is a man with a net coming from the south, Karili Herit; he will fight with you."
The Kawas sisters came now on Tede Wiu's side, bringing food, elkskins, and arrows for their brother, Sehinom. Chabatu. They did not go where
the fighting was, but stood back in the rear a little. Now Wai Charatawa came to Tede Wiu's side. He was a very small man and left-handed, but a great chief, a brother to Sehinom and to Wik Herit. He had his hair tied up and fastened in front with a long bone sharp at one end.
Norhara Chepmis came to help Norbis on the southern side.
Before the struggle began Norbis sent a message to the brothers, asking, "Are you willing to give up that woman?"
"Now, my people," said Norbis, "we are going to fight. I have done what I could to persuade these brothers to give up Norwan, but they refuse, and we are going to fight a second time."
At this moment Kiri Hubit came from the south, a strong man. He went to the east side to fight. He had only one arrow without a point.
When all these forces met, there was a terrible uproar.
"Now," cried Wul Wuhl, "a man from the south is coming; he is small, but brave and quick-tempered, a terrible fighter. He will strike on the left flank. His name is Nor Patsas Herit."
Yipokus Herit, who lived on the northeastern slope of Bohem Puyuk, was to be on the field at midday; he was the one to fight Nor Patsas. His weapons were ice and snow.
Just at this time Norwan found a weak place in the mempak and untied it. As soon as she was out she went home to Norwan Buli.
When ready to meet, the two armies saw a very big woman coming from the northwest: an old woman, Nom Toposloni Pokaila. She was carrying on her back a great basket, as big as a house. This basket was full of pounded fir-bark, which makes the skin itch terribly and almost blinds every eye that it touches.
A man came from the northwest to the southern army, and said to Wul Wuhl,--
"Tell your man Norhara Chepmis not to engage in battle; let him stand aside and look on. I will do as he does." This man was Wainom Yola Herit. "If he fights on the southern side, I will do the same on the northern."
Wul Wuhl gave the message. Norhara drew back, and Wainom Yola did the same.
The two armies stood opposite, each looking the other in the face, each waiting for the other to begin.
At this moment the Siriwit brothers left the ranks on the east, the left wing of the northern army, and went careering around with Chir Chuma on two sticks. Now Nor Patsas, the small peevish southern man, saw Chir Chuma (the Siriwits were invisible), and could contain his wrath no longer. He ran at the lame man with all his might. When just in front of Chir Chuma, he struck the ground with his brand, and one hundred people, as passionate and peevish as himself, sprang up around him. But Chir Chuma rode right over Nor Patsas. The Siriwits knocked him to one side, rushed across his men, trampled, beat, and killed them.
The Siriwit brothers went some distance along the front rank, then turned back and rushed to where Nor Patsas had fallen. He was on his feet again, and dashed a second time at Chir Chuma. When just before the enemy, Nor Patsas struck his brand against the ground, a hundred men leaped up around him; all sprang on Chir Chuma, but the two brothers scattered and trampled every one of them.
Nor Patsas was raging. He had never been so angry in his life till that day. He turned and rushed at the northern army. He struck the ground once, twice, three times with his brand, and three hundred raging men were there around him. A battle began on the left northern wing, fierce and very bloody. Nor Patsas found no one to match him till Chir Chuma returned. The Siriwits were somewhat tired, and went more slowly while Chir Chuma fought with Nor Patsas. Chir Chuma had a red flint, called also sucker flint. With every blow of this he killed fifty and sometimes sixty people. When Nor Patsas gave a blow, he killed as many, and every time he struck the ground with his brand a hundred warriors sprang up to help him.
The fight begun by Nor Patsas with Chir Chuma brought in the two armies. Both sides fought desperately, but no one could conquer Nor Patsas till Yipokus came at midday. He rushed at the peevish, passionate warrior with weapons made of ice and snow. In the heat of battle water flowed from them and killed Nor Patsas, quenched the life in him. The southern army was pushed back, and driven a long distance down the river.
In the middle of the afternoon they rallied, turned on the pursuers, drove them to the field where they began in the morning, and were driving them farther, when Nom Toposloni ran past, and, throwing her crushed bark with the wind, filled many eyes with it and almost blinded them. She brought disorder to the southern army.
Norbis, afraid of being beaten, was ready now for anything. He called in Norhara Chepmis, who ran swiftly from the southwest with his warriors. A mighty storm of wind swept forward with Norhara. He struck the northern army fiercely. Wainom Yola, seeing this, rushed at the southern force with all his people, and they were so many that no man could count them. They were as swift as arrows. A roaring wind went with them.
Wainom Yola cut right through the southern army, and, turning, rushed toward Norhara Chepmis and his warriors. These two with their armies fought hardest of all on that day. In half an hour very few were left alive on either side, and those left were so weak that Norhara Chepmis and Wainom. Yola were hardly able to lead them from the field.
There was not a man in the forces of the Tede Wiu brothers or Norbis who was not covered with snow and drenched with rain; all were shivering and nearly dead.
No one wished to fight for a long time after that day.
Norbis went home to the southeast without Norwan, the woman he called his wife; and when the Tede Wiu brothers went back to their house in
the evening, they found that Norwan had escaped to Norwan Buli.
This was the end of the first battle on earth. None gained anything, and many were killed. Later there was another battle among the first people, and afterward many among the Wintus when they came up.
After Norwan had been at home awhile she said one day to Hessiha,--
"My brother, I did wrong. When I think of it now, I see that I did wrong. I understand all today. I see that if I had not danced with Tede Wiu, if I had not gone home with him, there would have been no fighting, no trouble in this world. If I had gone with Norbis at the dance, there would have been no battles, there would have been no killing; but I did not want to go with Norbis. I do not know why; but in some way I did not like him. I was dancing with Tede Wiu, and sitting with him, and going away with him before I knew what I was doing."
Sehinom Chabatu, after the close of the first great battle, went home and lived on Wini Mem five years before any trouble came to him. While helping Tede Wiu in his fight with Norbis, Sehinom killed Saias Saias and Chuchu, two of the best men among Norbis's forces.
All the southern people talked of these two, and told how they had died. A great man, far off in the southeast, heard of this. He was chief of the two when they were living, and his name was Chulup Win Herit. He was a slender, strong
person. When he had heard the whole story, he said,--
"I have never liked fighting, I do not like fighting now. I have never gone to war, but I am going to war now. Norbis attacked Tede Wiu, he fought with him. Norbis has shown me what fighting is, and I am going to fight now."
Chulup inquired everywhere to discover who had killed these two men; he wished to be sure. All people said everywhere, "Sehinom Chabatu did it."
It was really Chir Chuma who had killed them. But Chir Chuma was under Sehinom Chabatu, and the blame was put on Sehinom.
They talked it all over, talked a whole night, and Chulup sent this message to Sehinom,--
"I should like to see you, I want you to come to Miol Tapa, near Puidal Pom. I will meet you there. If you want to fight, I will fight with you at that place."
The messenger was Tsotso Tokos Herit. While Chulup was instructing his messenger, Sehinom's grandmother was talking to him. This grandmother was a very old woman. Chir Pokaila; she was called also Kahi Buli Pokaila. She knew what was happening far away in the east, and what was going to happen soon, though nobody had told her: she knew with her own mind.
"My grandson," said she, "you have been fighting, you have been at war, and people will talk much of you. My grandson, you will hear something very soon. You must do what is best, take care of
yourself. I will tell you what to do: when you go hunting or fishing, never go toward the east. Go north, west, and south, but never go east; the people in the east are talking of you. My grandson, I did not know that you were going to do the things that you have done. When I was rearing you and you were a baby yet, I told you how to hunt and fish; no more. I did not think that you would fight and strike down strong people. But there is a woman at Norwan Buli who brought all this trouble into the world; this fighting began for her, and now it will continue always and everywhere; there will never be an end to fighting in this world now. This place where we are living would have been good but for that woman. Now, from this time on, all these trees, mountains, rocks, all people in this world, will be bad and will hurt others. (This means that people will use stones, sticks, and everything to fight with when they are angry.)
"Now, my grandson, you must do as I tell you. My brother lives near by, he lives at Kahi Buli, his name is Kahit. Go and see him every morning early. And there is a man who lives a little farther away, up at Waitami. He is your brother. Go and see him every evening. He is a great man, he can do everything. His name is Katsi Herit. My two sisters live at Waiti Nomken. They have been in the war and have seen all the fighting. They are the Kawas Loimis sisters.
"My grandson, we cannot live as we used to live. We must live differently. I am getting very angry. We cannot eat, we cannot sleep as in the
old time. When you went to war you killed two great men, two of the best men. Long, long ago Chulup, a great chief, went far away east, and has lived there since that time. He is going to come soon to see you. Take care of yourself; be on your guard. When he started east Chulup went to the edge of the great water and went under the ground to it, he went through the ground, and he lives in the east now on the bed of the great water.
"I will tell you what is going to happen soon. I am getting angry, and when I am angry you will feel a cold wind coming from the north. That wind comes because I am angry."
When Sehinom Chabatu went south, he was young yet, not grown; and now, when his grandmother knew what was happening in the east, she was instructing him. The place where they lived was Dau Paki Olel, a mile higher up than the mouth of Wini Mem.
One morning Sehinom Chabatu called all his people together. The old woman knew that some one was coming, and that day Tsotso Tokos came. He was sent by Chulup. When the old woman knew that he was near, she went into the house, brought out a quiver full of arrows, and hung it on a tree. Then she got a tuichu kilis, which is a net faced with white down, put it on her head, took the quiver, and ran some distance from the house, and rushed about in great fury. She acted like some one who is going to fight. People watched her.
"What is the matter with that old woman?" asked one person of another.
After a time she came back and sat down. A few minutes later a man was seen running in from the east, and soon Tsotso Tokos was at the house.
"Sehinom Chabatu," said he, "I am here to tell you what Chulup says. He says that he is growing angry; that he wants you to go to Miol Tapa to-morrow; that he will meet you there; that he has his men with him. He has gathered many people. He will wait for you at Miol Tapa."
When Tsotso Tokos had said these words, he went away. The old woman rose and said,--
"My grandson, do not sit long. Rise up. That of which I told you, a while ago has happened. I told you that trouble was coming. Send word now to the two Tede Wiu brothers. Send word to all your friends. Tell them to come quickly to help you."
Sehinom Chabatu sent a message to the Tede Wiu brothers, and a second one to the northwest, a third to the north, and a fourth to the southwest. In the north he sent to Sau Herit and to Kichuna Herit, to Hokohas Herit of Puidal Pom. Hokohas's people wore elkskin armor at all times; to Koyumas Herit, and to Puike Tsumu, a great chief, though lame. He sent to all who had been with the Tede Wiu brothers in the first war.
All came, and still others joined them. Among these was Cho Herit, who had a great many people. Sehinom's grandmother was terribly excited. She danced madly and ran around everywhere; she danced that night and the next day. The second morning all came very early to join
[paragraph continues] Sehinom's forces. The first came at daybreak, and one people followed another the whole day and the next night.
Chir Chuma, carried by two Siriwit brothers, came. Wai Karili, who lived on the south bank of Wini Mem, came. All his people had nets. Bulibok came from Bulibok Puyuk, and when the people on the road sat down to rest, he went ahead and called out,--
"Shoot at me, all you people! I want to see what kind of person I am going to be."
All shot at him. He sat still, but no one could hit him. And Kaisus Herit from Puidal Pom went ahead too, and asked all to shoot at him. A great many tried, but no one could hit Kaisus Herit.
Tichelis from Penehl Kente came, bringing his people.
"You are my brother," said he to Kaisus; "we will go together."
One Sedit came from Buli Puiwakat, and another from Sonomyai.
When all the people had assembled at Sehinom's, Wik Herit picked up dead coals and blackened his face. "I want to see fighting," said he. "I am a brave warrior. I want to fight;" then he puffed and strutted tremendously.
Nomel Hiwili, who lived at Waiel Nomeltos, came, bringing his people.
"My brother," said he to Sehinom, "I am not very strong, I cannot do much, but I will go with you and do what I can."
When they went to the place where the battle was to be fought, a messenger came and said,--
"Saiai Not Herit is coming to see you. He has no heart, and all his people are without hearts. Saiai Not wants to fight with you. Kichuna from Kinwinis Pom and Hamam Herit from the east wish to fight with you. All these people are at Memnom Kalai now, not far from here."
At this time they saw some one coming toward them from the east. This was a second Chir Pokaila. She was from Pokaitin Mem. When she came up she said to Sehinom's grandmother,--
"My sister, we will help our grandson, and if he is killed we will mourn over him together."
"It is time to move now," said Sehinom.
"We will be in the centre of the army," said the Tede Wiu brothers, and they took their places. Wai Karili went to the south wing of the northern army, and all his people with him. They went up on a level mound, and from there saw people coming on both sides, from the north and the south, as far as the eye could see. They came on like a great water, rolling forward. The people were in number as the grains in two clouds of sand. The two armies approached each other gradually.
Sehinom's grandmother, with her sister, was in front of the northern forces. She engaged the enemy first, and fought fiercely. She had arrows of kopus wood, pointed with Chirdokos, all made by herself. The northern army faced the east, and the southern the west.
Chir Chuma, carried by the Siriwits, came to help his two sisters. All three had the same kind of arrows. They killed fifty and sixty at a shot, and these three gave victory to the left wing of the northern army.
On the right flank of the northern and left flank of the southern army were good men, and there was hard fighting. On the northern side was Wai Karili with his people, having nets to catch the enemy. Then Hokohas and his forces, all dressed in elkskin armor; next Kaisus and Tichelis, with many people. Between Tichelis and the centre was Kichuna. On the other side, opposite Kichuna, was Hamam) who had sent word to Kichuna that he would meet him on the field. Opposite Sedit of Sonomyai was an unknown chief, but a very great fighter.
Wai Karili, Hokohas, Kaisus, and Tichelis with their forces were met by Hawt and Tsuini, whose people outnumbered those of the four chiefs opposed to them. The Hawts used solid blue rocks as weapons. They hurled them with great force, breaking the armor of Hokohas's people and tearing the nets of Karili's men. The Tsuini people threw smaller stones from slings in great showers at the people of Tichelis and Kaisus.
The battle raged with fury on that flank till evening. Many were killed on both sides, and of the chiefs Hamam and Sedit of Sonomyai fell. Neither side had the victory when night came, though Hawt and Tsuini were gaining a little.
In the centre were the great chiefs of both armies.
[paragraph continues] There Chulup, supported by Saiai Not, Tenek Not, and Tubuk, met Sehinom Chabatu, and the Tede Wiu brothers.
In the morning Chulup began the fighting, and cut into the centre. In the middle of the forenoon he had gone half-way through Sehinom's people. But Sehinom forced him back, and at midday Chulup was where he had begun in the morning. Sehinom advanced now, and tried to cut through Chulup's people. He had gone more than halfway when Chulup rallied, pressed around him, pushed him back, and at sundown had rushed forward among Sehinom's warriors.
Just at that time Sehinom saw in the field behind Chulup a tall and very beautiful woman. She was Chulup's wife. Her name was Sanihas. Sehinom Chabatu ran quickly to this woman, and led her to his own camp, while Chulup was struggling with the Tede Wiu brothers. The sun was down now. Night had come.
Chulup dropped back to his own place. He had lost his wife and gained nothing. Both sides went from the battlefield and made camp-fires. You could see the two lines of fire running north and south, but could not see either end of them.
Chulup rose at daybreak next morning, rushed to Sehinom's camp, and after a sharp and short fight took his wife back before sunrise. Both sides were very angry and fought hard. At midday the southern forces had the advantage in the centre and the southern flank. and would have beaten Sehinom Chabatu but for his grandmother, his uncle, and his
aunt. The two women and Chir Chuma, carried on two sticks by the Siriwit brothers, had beaten everything in front of them.
At this time the centre and flank of the northern forces had suffered much. Wai Karili left the fight; he was angry.
"I will do something better than this," said he.
Taking his net, he went off to the southeast, and never stopped till he was at the edge of the earth, and had found the opening through which Chulup passed when he came out on land or went back to his home on the bed of the great eastern water. He laid the net across the hole, thrust the middle of it in deeply, covered what was left outside, and waited in hiding.
At noon. when Sehinom Chabatu. was hard pressed and the enemy were pushing his people from the field, his grandmother, aunt, and uncle, with the whole army behind them, fell upon the rear of Chulup's forces. The struggle began anew, and from then till sunset was fought the hardest battle of the world up to that day. At sunset they had to stop, for there were few people left on either side, and those were so tired that they could fight no longer.
Each side left the field without saying a word to the other.
Chulup sent his wife Sanihas home by another way, and went himself to the passage where Wai Karili was hiding. He went into the opening. Karili drew the net, closed it around Chulup, and tied it firmly. He put it on his back then, and
carried Chulup to Tehi Buli, some distance east of Bohem Puyuk. There he taunted him, saying:
"Now, Chulup, you did not take me, but I have taken you. You are not going to kill me, but I am going to kill you. Who is better, you or I?
Then he killed him, and pounded his body fine.
When Sehinom Chabatu went home his grandmother said to him,--
"Now, my grandson, you are becoming a strong man; you know how to fight, but men who fight do not live long. I have never told you to fight, but from this on you will see fighting. You must keep awake, my grandson. You must rise early, you must not sleep long; some day you will hear news, some day something will happen."
After that Sehinom Chabatu brought the tallest yellow pine from beyond Dau Paki Olel, stripped all the bark off, painted it white, black, and red. The people danced around this pole, danced two days.
"We will go home now," said the Tede Wiu brothers, "but perhaps something will happen later on.
Then Dokos said to Wik Kiemila: "We have had all this fighting, we may have more, fighting yet; people may come to attack us, to kill you or me.
"My father-in-law," said Wai Dokos to Wik Kiemila, "we have killed a great man, Chulup Win Herit. I think now that we shall have much trouble; he was the chief of many people; they will attack us."
After this talk all went home. People lived in peace for two years.
"I will go and sleep in the sweat-house," said Sehinom Chabatu one night. He went. There were many in the sweat-house, and a greater number outside. Usually Chir Pokaila knew everything; but this night the old woman did not know that trouble was coming, she was in her own house asleep.
The door of Sehinom's sweat-house was on the east, and he was sleeping on the north side. Just before daylight some of the men lying outside woke up, and some in the sweat-house were awake, but none had risen yet. All at once they heard an uproar, a crowd of men shouting.
When the people around the sweat-house heard this shouting, they took their arms and ran forward. All inside the sweat-house rushed to the door, and as soon as they were out strange people killed them.
Sehinom Chabatu remained in the sweat-house. Chir Pokaila was taking bow and arrows to her grandson, but when she reached the door she was killed.
Chir Chuma, who lived near by, came when he heard the uproar. He was carried by the Siriwits, and went around fighting here and fighting there, killing many.
Sehinom, in the sweat-house, heard some one outside asking,--
"Is this Sehinom Chabatu's house? I cannot find him. He is not among these people. Perhaps
this is not his house at all. I should like to see Sehinom Chabatu. If he is brave, he will come out. I am Sutunut."
Others cried, "I am Hus! I am Chutuhl!" "I am Koip!" "I want to see Sehinom Chabatu!"
All the people outside were killed now, except Chir Chuma. The Siriwits had carried him home. Sehinom Chabatu was left in the sweat-house. It was about the middle of the forenoon when all were killed, and the strangers set fire to the sweat-house. There was a log at each side of the door for people to sit on. Sehinom went into the ground, and came out under the log on the left side. He dug forward, as the fire moved, till he came near the end of the log. It was burned out now except a very short piece. He stopped under that.
Sutunut's people stood around watching for him.
"We should like to know where he is," said they. "The sweat-house is burned. He was not there or he would have run out." They pushed the cinders about,--found no trace of his bones. "He cannot be under this log," said one man; but he did not touch the burning log.
At last, about dark, when the log was burned almost to the very end, Sutunut and all his people went away.
Sehinom Chabatu heard everything they said. When they had gone and all was silent, he crept out from under the ground; he saw his friends lying dead, the houses destroyed, and the sweat-house burned down. He cried all night,--mourned for
his friends, mourned until daylight. At daylight he walked around everywhere; looked at the ruins; did not know what to do; walked around again and again.
Just before sunrise he heard something and stopped to listen. There was a sound like the cry of a little dog. He looked, and saw at last a piece of bark of the yellow pine. The noise came from under that bark.
"What can be under this bark?" thought Sehinom, and turning it over he found two little boys lying in each other's arms and crying. He stooped down and took them up.
"Now, brother," said one of them, "we had luck. We hid here and escaped."
They were Tsudi boys. Sehinom Chabatu took the boys to care for them. He buried all the people he could find, took the two little boys, and went up Pui Mem to get kopus wood for arrows. He found the wood, brought it home, and made four hundred arrows. Then he made five bows of yew wood.
The two boys grew very fast. Sehinom gave a bow and forty arrows to each of them and said,--
"I wish you could do something for me, but you are so small I don't like to send you."
"We can go wherever you send us," said the elder boy.
"Well. my little brother," said Sehinom next morning, "go and tell my two sisters, Kawas Loimis in Waiti Nomken to come here. Tell them that I am hungry, that I have nothing to eat. Say that
[paragraph continues] I am starving. Tell them to bring food to me. From my sisters go to my brother Kichuna; he lives at Kenwinis Pom. Go next to Wai Hau, at Hau Buli, then to Nomel Hiwili at Waiel Nomeltos. Go to Dokos Hilit; you will find his house by inquiring; from there to my father-in-law, Nom Sowiwi. Tell these people to come to me and bring all their forces."
Then, turning to the other brother, he said: "I will send you, my little brother, down south. I want you to go to Tidok Kiemila at Tidok Waisono. This old man and his people have plenty of feather dresses for war. Go to the Tede Wiu brothers; go to Hokohas Herit. Go eastward to Dokos Herit, at Dokos Hleĭ Puriton; go to Kaisus at Kaisansi Haraston, tell all to come to-morrow and bring their people."
The elder Tsudi brother came back in the evening. "Your sisters will come to-morrow morning," said he, "and the others will all come."
The younger brother came back a little later.
"All the people will come to-morrow morning," said he: "all the Hokohas people with their elkskins, all the Tidok people will come with their feather headdresses. When I went to the Tede Wiu brothers, they said: 'Sehinom Chabatu has great trouble.' I said: 'He has, indeed; my brother and I are all that are left.' 'He is our brother,' said they; 'we must help him.'"
Next morning the two Kawas sisters came, bringing many things. Each brought two elkskins and a great many arrows and otter-skins.
"Now, brother, eat and feed the two little boys," said they, taking out food.
People began to come. They came from every direction, from all sides. All that day they poured in; in the evening and night they kept coming. Sehinom Chabatu had to wait some days for all to come. The Kawas sisters had food for every one.
"We heard that you were killed," said the Tede Wiu brothers when they came. "We are glad to see you living."
"I am alone," said Sehinom. "I do not know what saved me. All my people were killed except these two little boys."
The Tede Wiu brothers were the first to come from the south. Next came the Tidok people. They came in crowds, in thousands, and every one had a feather net on his head. They began to come in the morning, and kept coming all day, all night, on the morrow, and second night, without stopping. They came without stopping for twelve days and nights, they came till there was no room for them anywhere around. More Tidoks remained at home than came, and more Tidoks came than all other people put together.
"You people," said Sehinom Chabatu, when all had come, "I did not cause this war and fighting. I did not begin. The war was made by the Tede Wiu brothers and Norbis."
"Now, my brothers," said Sehinom Chabatu to the Tede Wiu brothers, "people far off talk of me; but you caused the trouble. You began it, and
you must do your best to help me. We must leave here to-morrow morning."
They started next morning early. Sehinom Chabatu gave orders to travel in parties. They moved toward the southeast. The last party of the first day left in the evening. When night came the van of the army camped and the rear marched all night.
When Sutunut's forces came northward from the edge of the sky in the south to attack Sehinom's people, they made a trail coming and going. Now, Sehinom's army followed this trait. They travelled the second day till they reached a camping-place of the returning southern army. There they spent the night. At noon of the third day they sent Kaisus and Bulibok ahead to look for the enemy. They went to the south. On the following morning they came back and said,--
"We found a cañon where they camped; you can camp there."
The army moved on. The two Kawas sisters had food to give the whole army; the two baskets were never empty, and all had enough.
They stayed three days in the cañon, and the Tidok people never stopped coming.
"We have far to go; you must hurry," said Sehinom next day; and the Tidok forces began to travel faster. Sehinom sent forward Hus as a scout. Before daybreak all rose and travelled till evening. Hus came back and said,--
"I have been very far down. I found another place where they camped. I went farther south
then, till I saw fire and smoke far away. We can rest to-night in their camping-place."
"Sleep well, all you people," said Sehinom Chabatu that night; "you must be fresh to-morrow morning.
Next morning Hus was sent forward again, and the army started soon after. They travelled all day. At sunset Hus came back and said,--
"I found the next camping-place; it is not far from here. Then I went south a great way till I came to a hill which runs east and west. I went to the top of that hill and looked down. On a broad flat I saw fires and a great many people. Their camp is very wide from east to west, and runs south as far as my eyes could see. Now, our friends, I have seen the enemy; we must do the best we can."
When they reached the camping-place Sehinom said: "We will rest here to-morrow, not travel till the next day."
On the second morning they rose and started early, went slowly, resting occasionally. About sunset they came to the hill and camped on the north side of it.
"I went to send some one to see how many people there are in that camp," said Sehinom Chabatu.
Bulibok went. On the end of the ridge was a tree with one limb sticking out toward the east. Bulibok went on that tree, sat on the limb, and looked down. He saw the people moving around, playing, and dancing. He could see a long distance. Pretty soon people below, whom were looking
around everywhere, saw Bulibok, and one of them asked,--
"What is that sitting on the limb up there?"
"I don't know," answered another. "It looks like some person. Let us throw at it and see if it will move."
Notudui Ulumus, who always wore a sling around his head, took it off, put a stone in it, and said,--
"There must be some one there. I have never seen that thing on a limb before."
"Oh. that is nothing; that is always there," said others.
"I have never seen anything there before. I will sling a stone at it." Notudui hurled a stone, which just passed Bulibok's head; he didn't move. Notudui hurled another stone, almost grazed Bulibok's nose, but he never moved.
"Oh, that is a part of the limb," said some of the people: "it sticks up in that way."
"A man would move if a stone came so near him," said others.
"That is somebody; that is somebody watching us," cried a third party; and they disputed. The people watched for a while, but Bulibok sat there as motionless as the limb till, tired of watching, they went away, and forgot all about him. He slipped down from the tree then, went home, and said,--
"I sat on a tree, saw everything, and know now the best way to go. People saw me and hurled stones. They came near hitting me twice, but I did not stir, and they let me go."
Now, my people," said Sehinom Chabatu, "this war was not made by me. I hate to take you to a place like that which is before us, but we must go there. I will go first; I will go alone and look at the place." He mounted the ridge, and from the top of it went underground till he came out in the chief house of the enemy. Then, thrusting his head up, he looked and saw a great many people. Soon someone saw him and said,--
"Why do you people not watch? Sehinom. Chabatu may come. You say that he is dead--that you burned him to death in the sweat-house; but I don't believe that you killed him."
"Oh, he is dead long ago. We killed him; we burned him!"
Sehinom stuck out his head a second time. Again some one saw him and asked,--
"What is that over there? Maybe it is Sehinom Chabatu. I think he might come."
"Oh, he is dead long ago. Let's throw at that and see what it is."
Some one hurled a stone. It grazed Sehinom's nose and he dropped into the ground. "That is only a squirrel!" said a number of people, "Sehinom Chabatu is dead."
Sehinom went back to his army, and said to Nom Sowiwi,--
"I saw a great many people. They are the same who killed our friends, They will kill us unless we kill them. We will move to-morrow at daybreak and fight. My brother, Tede Wiu, you must find Sutunut. When he came to my place
he boasted greatly. He said that I could fight nobody. I want to see Sutunut. We must find him. Never mind others. Let us find Sutunut and Koip Herit, who boasted that they had killed so many of our people."
"I will go and look at that camp before dark," said Hau Herit.
He went, and just below the hilltop he found a piece of a hollow oak-tree as long as the height of a man; he walked slowly in this dry trunk, his head just sticking above it, and of the same color. He reached the top of the ridge and went down the south side a short distance; there were no trees or brush there. As he stood looking around, his eyes above the stump, some people called out below,--
"What is that on the hill? I have never seen that thing there before."
"I see nothing but a stump," answered others.
Hau was looking around everywhere, taking notice of everything.
"There is some one there," said another man.
"Oh, that's a stump. I've seen that there all the time."
"Well, let's sling a stone at it."
Notudui took his sling and hurled a stone. Hau lowered his head a little. The stone hit the stump and made a loud noise.
"Oh. that's nothing. Don't you hear the noise? That's just a stump. We'll throw again and be sure."
Hau was just putting his head out when he saw
another stone coming. The stone hit the stump, and made a great noise.
"There, do you think that is a person? Do you think the stone would make a noise like that if it hit some one?"
They threw no more stones. Hau waited till dark, when he went back and told Sehinom everything.
"Now, my brothers," said Sehinom Chabatu to the two Tsudi boys, "you must go to that camp. Go straight to the centre house, go into it together. Then let one go west and the other east. Look carefully, and when you see a bow, cut the string to it. Cut the strings in the first house before you part, and then cut alone. Go into each house and cut every bow-string. As you go around the houses inside, some one may see you and say, 'Look at those Tsudis,' but pay no heed, go on cutting."
The two Tsudi brothers went to the middle house together; then one went east, and the other west. They went through each house. In some they found a few bows, in others a great many. They cut till daylight was coming. They went home then, and said,--
"We cut bow-strings all night, and had to stop because daylight was coming, but we left only a few strings uncut. The people slept, except one man in the sweat-house. We don't think he ever sleeps. He talks always."
"I know him," said Sehinom. "He talks, but he is asleep while he talks [whistles]. Daylight
is coming, we must go. Do the best you can, do your best, all of you."
The army was so large, and there were so many Tidoks that they spread over the country like a flood; they rushed across the hill and ran down into the valley; when the people sleeping in the houses heard them coming, they sprang up and ran for their bows.
"Oh, my bow-string is broken!" cried one.
"Oh, my bow-string is broken!" cried another.
"Give me a bow! Give me a bow!" cried a third.
This was heard all over the camp; every one was crying: "My bow-string is broken! Give me a bow!"
Sehinom's army poured in on them like great waves of water. Sehinom rushed to the chief house, and shouted,--
"Where are you, Sutunut? I want to see you. You boasted so much in Dau Paki Olel, I want to see you. Where are you, Sutunut?"
Sutunut said nothing, kept still. He was in a house a short distance away, and some one else killed him.
The southern people could not fight well without bows and arrows; they did what they could to defend themselves, but at noon they were killed to the last person, not one escaped.
Sehinom Chabatu with his chief men and all their forces started for home, leaving Kot and Ho Herit behind, with some Tidoks to fire all the houses. Just as they had set fire to everything, a new force
of southern people came up, surprised them, and killed a great many.
"Sehinom Chabatu has gone," said Ho Herit, when he saw them. "New forces are coming against us. Now, Tidok people, you must fight well."
The new forces chased Ho Herit and his men. The Tidoks fought bravely. Many were killed on both sides. Ho Herit himself was killed. Fresh people from the south were coming continually, while the Tidoks had no reinforcements. At last Kot Herit was killed, and most of the Tidoks who fought under him. Then the southern people turned and went home. The few Tidoks who escaped with their lives went north to their own place.
Sehinom Chabatu went back to Dau Paki Olel and lived there. He and those who came home with him did not know for a long time of the second battle and the death of Kot and Ho Herit.
This is the end of that war. All the people who returned with Sehinom Chabatu came home in safety. The first people fought no more after that, for soon Olelbis turned them into birds, beasts, and other things.
86:1 Untanned elkskin was formerly used as armor by the Indians.