Sacred Texts Native American Southeast Index Previous Next
Twelve Irishmen were going along together. One of them had a gun. In a certain place a grasshopper lighted on the breast of a member of the party, and he cried, "Turkey, turkey, turkey." "Where? where?" said the man with the gun. Then the first Irishman pointed to his breast and said "Here." Upon this the man with the gun pointed it at him, and the other said, "Don't shoot me. Pull the trigger gently (so that the bullet will not reach too far)." So the man with the gun pulled the trigger gently and shot him. That left 11.
By and by they came to a place where a quantity of wheat had been sowed, and said to one another, "That is a river. Let us lie down." So they lay down and crawled slowly along, thinking they were swimming. When they got across the wheat patch they thought they had gotten across the water. Then one of them said, "Didn't anybody drown? Did all get across? Count!" So one counted, and as he left himself out, made 10. Then he said to the others, "One has been drowned. Let some of you count." So another counted in the same way and said, "One has indeed been drowned." After that all made marks in something with their noses and counted the marks. They all counted 11.
Starting on again, the Irishmen came to a river and saw a swarm of bees hanging to a limb. They said to one another, "Let us do as they are doing." So they climbed up on a tree which bent over it, and one of them slid down upon a limb over the water. The others slid down over him and over each other one after the other and hold each other around the waist. By and by they became so heavy that the hands of the one who had hold of the branch began to slip. He said, "I am about to lose my hold. Let me spit on my hands." He did so and all fell into the water and were drowned.