Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 52

Old Jewinna in the west called all his people and said: "I want you, my people, to sweat and swim, then come here and listen to me."

After they had done this, Jewinna said: "I am sorry that my son has gone. I must follow him to-morrow. I don't know why he went. I do not wish him to go far from this place. Be ready, all of you, and we will go to-morrow."

Jewinna rose before daylight, called all his people, and said: "I cannot eat. I am sorry that my son has gone."

All took plenty of arrows and beads and otter-skins and red-headed woodp.e.c.k.e.r scalps, and started to follow the young man. As he started, Jewinna sang,--

"I-no-ho, i-no-ho no-ha, i-no-ho!"

A great many followed and repeated,--

"I-no-ho, i-no-ho no-ha, i-no-ho!"

They went on all day, went quickly, and at sunset they were on a smooth plain, not far from Kedila's place. Kedila had a large, rich sweat-house, and it was full of people. The old chief had a great many sons-in-law, and a great many people to serve him.

Jewinna and his men reached the place some time before nightfall, and Kedila went to the top of his sweat-house and said to the strangers,--

"I want you all to come in and enjoy yourselves. Perhaps my house is small; we will make it bigger."

He blew toward all the four sides then, and said, "Be bigger, my sweat-house, be bigger!"

The sweat-house stretched out and was very large. There was room for every one, and all came in.

"Bring food, my sons-in-law, for Jewinna and his people," said Kedila.

They brought in all kinds of good food, and fed every one gladly.

"Bring your beads, otter-skins, and red-headed woodp.e.c.k.e.r scalps, and put them down here at this side of the sweat-house," said Jewinna to his people.

All were brought in and given to Kedila. He took these rich things gladly, and put them away.

Kedila put down on his part wolfskins with deerskins and gave them to Jewinna.

"Let ten of you go out and hunt squirrels," said Jewinna to his people next morning; "let others fix heads on their arrows."

One of the ten saw a squirrel on a tree; he took a club, climbed after the squirrel, and killed it; he saw another and another; the tree was filled with squirrels. A second man saw squirrels in a second tree, and then a third and a fourth in other trees. Right away the ten were killing squirrels on ten trees, and soon they had ten piles of squirrels, each pile as large as one man could carry.

The two chiefs were delighted when they saw the ten loads of game, and there was a great feast of squirrel flesh that day at Kedila's.

Both sides sat down then to gamble, played with sticks, gambled all day, played till sunset. They bet all kinds of skins. Jewinna's men won a great many things, and won more than the presents.

Next morning Kedila's sons-in-law wanted to win back the beautiful skins and other things which they had played away, but before noon they had lost everything. When all was gone, Kedila's men were angry.

"You don't play fairly," said they to Jewinna's men; "you shall not have these things."

"We have won everything fairly," said Jewinna's men, "and we will take these things home with us."

They began to fight at once. Kedila's sons-in-law attacked Jewinna's men as soon as they were outside the sweat-house.

"We are here to fight if there is need," said Jewinna; "go ahead, my men, you are likely to die, every one of you."

Jewinna's men fought, going westward, fought carrying with them what they had won. Jewinna fought bravely, and sang as he fought. Kedila's people followed.

They fought till near sunset. All were killed now but eight men, four on each side,--Jewinna, his half-brother, and two more western people.

Kedila and three others of the eastern people were alive yet.

These eight closed once more in fight; both chiefs fell with Jewinna's half-brother and Kedila's youngest son-in-law. Matsklila was so sorry for this last one that he threw away bow and arrows and fell to the ground crying bitterly. Seeing this, Chikpina picked up a rock and beat Matsklila's brains out. Wirula on Kedila's side killed Chikpina, and there were only two left,--Chichepa, the last of Jewinna's men, and Wirula, the last on Kedila's side.

"Now," said Wirula, "we have fought enough. You are alone. Go home and tell the women that your people are all killed. I am alone. I will go home and say that all our people are dead."

Jewinna had taken his son with him when he left Kedila's house, and he, too, had been killed in the struggle.

Now Wirula and Chichepa started off in opposite directions; went a little way; lay down and rolled along the ground, crying and lamenting. Wirula sprang up and said,--

"I will kill that Chichepa. I will kill him surely, and there will not be one left of our enemies."

Wirula turned and followed Chichepa slowly; drew his bow and sent an arrow after him. But Chichepa dodged; the arrow missed. Then Wirula ran away.

"I will kill that Wirula now," said Chichepa.

He turned and followed carefully, cautiously; came up with him, and struck him fairly on the skull. Wirula dropped dead.

Chichepa turned homeward now, crying all the time. When he was near home, the women saw him stagger, then saw him fall. When he reached the top of the sweat-house, he fell in, rolled along the floor, and cried. He ate nothing that night; he was too sorry for his people. He slept a while and then woke up crying.

Early next morning he took ten otter-skins; went back to the dead people, pulled one hair from the head of each one of them, and filled the ten otter-skins with the hairs. He had the work done before sunset.

"Build a good fire," said he to the women when he reached home that night. "Give me four big water-baskets." They gave the baskets. He filled these with water, and put hot rocks in them. Then he emptied the ten otter-skins into the water.

"Stay all night in your houses. Let no one put a head out. I will stay in the sweat-house," said he.

The four baskets boiled hard. Just at daylight the largest basket fell over; then the second, the third, and the fourth fell. After that there were voices all around the sweat-house, hundreds upon hundreds of them.

"We are cold; open the door," cried the voices.

When full daylight had come, Chichepa opened the door, and all hurried in. Jewinna came first, and with him his son. All followed them, dressed as they had been when they went to Kedila's; all alive and well, strong and healthy. Jewinna laughed. He was glad.

On the way home Kedila's two daughters had two sons, the sons of Jewinpa. The boys were born the next day after Jewinpa had looked on their mothers. They had come from the eyes of their father. He had just looked through his fingers at Kedila's two daughters.

After Jewinna's son had been killed and then brought to life by Chichepa, he went east to Kedila's great sweat-house, stayed five days and nights there, then took his two wives and two sons and went back to his father's.

Kedila's youngest son, born when his father was old, came to life. He had sat always at the central pillar, at the edge of the ashes, and had always kept moving his arms, but he had never danced on that or on any floor. He had burned his face because he had sat so near the fire, and had sweated often from being so near it.

Every one laughed at him; jeered at that "Burnt Face," who sat night and day in the ashes. He spat always in one place. Kedila's eldest son had said many times,--

"If we are killed, we shall come back to life again."

"I don't think that you will," said Burnt Face; "but when I am killed I shall live again through my own power."

Burnt Face went out to fight, and was killed with the others. Now a little baby came right up out of the spittle of Burnt Face, a boy.