Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 64

"You would better stay at home. My nephew, stay at home; you would better not go for those sisters. Forget them; don't think of those girls," said Jupka. "If you go, you will never come back. The place where they live is a bad one; every stranger gets killed who goes there. I have seen many men on the way to Damhauja's; many a man has pa.s.sed here to look for those sisters, but never have I seen any come back with or without a woman. I have been in that country myself, I know it well. I had to fight for my life there, and came near being killed. I am many times stronger than you, know people better than you do, and I would not go to that country."

"No matter what kind of country that is, no matter what kind of people live in it, I must find those two sisters. I have dreamt of them. There is no use in trying to hold me back. I must go; I cannot stop, I cannot help myself."

"Well," said Jupka, "if you must go, I will go with you; you would be lost without me. I must save you, my nephew. I will make myself small; you can put me on your head, you can tie me up in your hair easily."

The old man made himself small, and Juiwaiyu put him on the top of his head, bound him firmly in his hair, bound him so that no one could see him. Then he went up on the sweat-house and turned toward the sun.

"Sun, O Sun, I wish you to be slow," said he. "I must go very far; I wish the day to last long."

"I will tell you now of the road," said Jupka. "When you come near a small mountain east of Wahkalu, there will be three roads there before you; one on the right hand very narrow. You can hardly see that road, it is so little beaten, but you must find it, for you cannot go by another. There is a middle road, smooth and wide; you will see fresh clover scattered on the road, just as if women had carried some over and dropped a little here and there. If you go over that road, you will be killed by lice and wind. On the left hand is a road; if you take that, you will lose yourself and never reach any place."

"I will sing now," said Juiwaiyu, "and my song will be heard everywhere, north, south, east, and west."

He began, and rose in the air as he sang; he rose, and as he moved forward, the whole world heard him; every one looked up to see who was singing, but no one saw anything.

"That sounds like the song of Juiwaiyu," said some of the people. "I think that is the voice of Periwiriwaiyu's son," said others; "I think that is he, for that's how he sings when he travels."

They tried to see who was singing, but saw no one. The song seemed just above them, but it was high up, very high in the air.

"Hurry, my nephew, hurry," said Jupka; "I don't like to camp on the journey, I want to be at that place before sunset."

Juiwaiyu sang faster now; he could not move without singing. He moved swiftly, and soon they were east of Wahkalu.

"Look down carefully," said Jupka; "if you see clover scattered on a road, you must not go over it. Go over that road on the right, do not look at the other."

Damhauja had sent people to scatter clover on the middle road and entice men, make them think that the road to his sweat-house.

"The middle road lies straight toward the mountain," said Jupka; "all people die who try to pa.s.s over it. A great many lie dead on that road now, my nephew; do not go near it."

Juiwaiyu kept on; soon they heard laughter ahead on the small mountain, loud laughter.

"You are on the wrong road," said Jupka. "Turn back, my nephew; if not, you will die surely. That was the laughter of people sent by Damhauja to kill all who go over the middle road."

Juiwaiyu kept on; he would not listen to his uncle. Soon a great wind came, bringing clouds of lice with it; the air was filled with them.

They fell on Juiwaiyu, and ate the flesh off his body. The wind drove him far back on his journey, and blew the beads from his neck. The people of the mountain did this,--people put there and kept by Damhauja.

Juiwaiyu was angry. He rushed forward a second time.

"I will pa.s.s, I will go through this time," said he.

"I told you of this trouble," said Jupka, "I warned you. I said that this was an evil road over which no one can pa.s.s. Stop, or you will be dead before night comes. Stop! Let me down; I will save you."

Juiwaiyu came to the ground, and took out his uncle.

"I will save you," said Jupka; "I will give you back flesh and strength."

The old man took his pipe and drew smoke through it. The wind went away; the lice disappeared, not one was left anywhere. Jupka took up a rose-twig. With this he whipped Juiwaiyu, and he was as sound and strong as ever. He had all his flesh back in a moment.

The people of the mountain saw this. "We cannot kill him," said they; "he has too much power for us."

"You must turn back and start where the roads part," said Jupka. "On the right is a small narrow trail; you can barely see it, but you must find this trail. You cannot go to Damhauja's house by another way."

Juiwaiyu went back to where the paths parted.

"You are looking for the way," said Jupka. "If you see a narrow little trail, that is it."

He found that trail at last. "That is the right way," said the uncle.

It was so narrow that Juiwaiyu was barely able to see it. He went forward easily; went fast, like a man who is running down hill. They came to the small mountain, and when Juiwaiyu was above it, he heard laughing at a distant village. "That must be the place to which we are going," said he.

"My nephew, look out now, be careful. When you go into Damhauja's sweat-house and sit with his daughters, he will give you a pipe filled with crushed bones of people instead of tobacco. If you breathe smoke from that pipe, you will die the next moment. With this smoke he has killed those who escaped lice and wind from the mountain."

Juiwaiyu rested awhile, and thought of the beads he had lost. "I wish my beads would return to me," said he. That moment the beads were on his neck. They were as beautiful as ever.

"My beads, you must not go again from me. You must stay with me, and you must be in plenty. Pahnino Marimi, I wish you to send your daughters for leaves, wood, and water. Be kind when I come to you. Do not kill me. Let us go on," said he to his uncle.

They went forward, and soon they saw two girls, one holding the other by the hand. These girls were coming toward the mountain, swaying their hands and singing. Juiwaiyu came to the ground, hid behind a tree, and said, "Let there be wood here in plenty, wood for these women." The wood was right there in one moment.

The two girls set down their baskets and filled them. "I wish that man would come," said one sister to the other, "the man we dreamed of last night."

They put down their hands to take the baskets. Juiwaiyu caught their hands. They looked around, saw him, and were frightened.

"Why are you frightened? I dreamed of you last night, you dreamed of me. Go home, go ahead, hurry forward, I will follow; I will be at your father's house soon."

They put the baskets on their backs, ran quickly, reached home soon, threw down the baskets outside the doorway, and rushed into the sweat-house.

"What are you scared at, my daughters? You saw some young man in the woods, I think," said Pahnino, their mother, who was making acorn bread outside the doorway. "I think that some brother-in-law was watching you near the mountain."

"You have never seen the man we met," said the sisters.

Pahnino went to look; she looked carefully, but saw no man coming toward her from any side. The two sisters spread a black bearskin and sat on it, sat near each other and waited. The old man went out to look, put his hand over his eyes to see a new son-in-law, but could see no one. Juiwaiyu was on the house now; he went down through the central pillar, pa.s.sed through the ground, and came up between Damhauja's two daughters. Pahnino Marimi walked in at that moment to scold her daughters. She looked, and saw Juiwaiyu between them.

"Some one is sitting with our daughters," said she to the old man.

Damhauja went for his pipe, put in crushed bones of Mapchemaina, and handed the pipe to his daughters.

"Give this to my son-in-law," said he.

They did not like to take the pipe, but they could not refuse their father, they could not help themselves. They were crying.

"You must not smoke this," whispered they; "we will give you another kind." They took the tobacco out and put in some of the common sort.

The old man did not watch sharply at first; he was thinking only to see Juiwaiyu drop dead. The girls handed back the empty pipe to their father.

Jupka, who was sitting on his nephew's head, laughed in his own mind.

"I don't know what sort of man this is," thought Damhauja; "I have never seen such a person. I think he must have come to fight with me; I will try him once more."

He filled the pipe a second time, and gave it to his daughters. They handed it to Juiwaiyu. This time they could not change the tobacco.