Indian Legends of Vancouver Island

by Alfred Carmichael

THE LEGEND OF EUT-LE-TEN

THE WITCH E-ISH-SO-OOLTH

Long, long ago, in the gloom of deep and silent woods there lived a witch or evil chehah. The Indians called her E-ish-so-oolth. So tall was she that, stalking through the forest, her head would brush the lower branches of the giant fir.

She dwelt in a huge lodge, the walls of which were built of cedar logs as thick as men are high. This evil chehah was the dread of young and old alike, for all believed that boys and girls and even men and women, who left their homes, not to return again, were taken to her lodge, there to be devoured at leisure. Therefore mothers often said, when children misbehaved, "Be good or I will call E-ish-so-oolth."

One day some Keeh-hin village children paddled from their home and landed on a nearby shore. Then something happened causing one to cry, and all the others scolding, threatened to call E-ish-so-oolth. The threat had no effect and the child cried on, till one in teasing spirit called loudly, "E-ish-so-oolth! E-ish-so-oolth! Oh come E-ish-so-oolth!"

Then forth from the woods a figure stalked, a tall gaunt form of terrible aspect. She leaned upon a gnarled and knotty stick and scanning the beach with cruel eyes she cried, "Who called me by my name E-ish-so-oolth?"

The children screamed and tried to run away; the chehah laughed one awful fiendish laugh, then caught them one by one with her lean hands. With the sticky gum of Douglas fir, she sealed their little jet black eyes so that they could not see which way led left or right, and threw them in the basket on her back, starting for home along the lonely forest trail.

As I have said, E-ish-so-oolth was tall, and many times bent her head to pass beneath low and spreading branches, and so it happened when stooping under a tree which brushed the basket top, four little hands gripped tightly hold of a kindly branch and held on fast.

When E-ish-so-oolth had gone on further not missing the two children, they clambered down, and partly freed their eyes from the vile pitch, running for home as fast as they could go. To their mothers they told the story, and how their playmates of that very morning, were now perchance within the witch's lodge, and no help to save them from a bloody fate. Then all the mothers of the kidnapped girls chanted the weird and doleful death lament. Four days and nights the dismal song was heard, beyond the blue wood smoke of Indian fires. Weeks of mourning passed, and all but one were comforted, but she sat all alone, and every morning she squatted on the sea grass at the shore, chanting that drear and mournful song.

THE BIRTH OF EUT-LE-TEN

Early one morning as she sat and cried, her tears flowed down and formed a little pool, a very little pool among the grass, the lank sea grass stems on which she crouched. Surprised, she saw a movement in the sand, the pool of tears was being changed into a child, a very little child, so small that when the mother picked up a mussel shell, she could cradle the small form within its pearly curve. Gently she carried it to her dark lodge, and set it in a safe and quiet place. Next day within the shell, there lay a wonder-child, in face and form most beautiful.

The little creature grew so fast that every day his mother went out to find new shells and larger shells in which to cradle him. She called him by the name of Eut-le-ten, and in all the village there was none so fair; in wisdom and in beauty none excelled. The child was observing beyond his years, and felt deepest sorrow at his mother's constant weeping. One day he inquired in tender tones, full of love and sympathy. "My Mother, tell me why you cry so much; why unconsoled you chant the death lament?"

Then the mother drawing him to her side told him of the tragedy which had befallen his sister. "The chehah came and carried off my girl, carried away your little sister to the woods, the dark and gloomy woods, and since that day her shadow has not crossed my mournful path," she said.

Then up spake Eut-le-ten and bravely said, "My Mother, I will seek your daughter, my little sister. I will save her from that awful fate you fear. Direct me now upon the lonesome road the dread witch took and I will seek her out."

And the mother knowing him to be a spirit-child, rejoiced and blessed his errand. They next sought out the little ones who saved themselves by clinging to the low branched tree, and from them they learned the trail the old witch took. Then sallied forth brave Eut-le-ten alone, off to give battle to E-ish-so-oolth.

THE QUEST

Eut-le-ten started with no arms but his courage, to face the dread witch who had spirited away the children. The trail lay long, unknown and untrodden, save by the timber wolf, panther and black bear. It was feared by the Indians for dangers most dreadful--the greatest of all the chehah E-ish-so-oolth. He broke through dense shalal, fringing the green woods, making the shore line all but impenetrable. Into the thick woods, under the silvery spruce, brushing the hemlock boughs he walked stealthily. Salmon berry thickets impeded his progress, scratched his round limbs with the thorns on their canes. He passed white helebore, so tall and so handsome. He saw how the black bear had fed on swamp lily, tramping the glossy leaves into the black mud. He spurned the devil's club with berries so red and with poisonous thorns on stem and on leaf. Such was the trail as it led him far inland, inland away from his home by the sea. At last by a cool stream, the path lay before him. Hard by the stream a lodge was erected, a house of such size the boy stood dumbfounded, and he knew that this must be the dwelling of the children's dread captor.

Night time had come, the shadows had fallen and Eut-le-ten was tired with the long weary trail. Should he proceed or wait until morning? He climbed a tree which grew by the water, and hid in the branches to keep vigil, there to crave strength from the Saghalie spirit, the Hyas Tyee who dwells in the heavens, to grant him the strength, the wisdom, the courage to kill the dread witch. The night was long and the vigil lone, soundless except for the night hawk on wing, or the howl of the wolf in the quest of the red deer, or the splash of the salmon in the stream underneath.

Early next morning, before he descended, he plainly saw the form of the witch, coming to wash in the stream just below him. The water was clear reflecting her visage, fearsome in its hideous detail. Up in the tree brave Eut-le-ten saw her, he thought himself safe from her fierce prying eyes; he forgot that he too was mirrored below in the still water which lay at her feet. When she had finished her morning ablutions, she filled her vessel with water and turned to depart, when she saw just below her, the features of Eut-le-ten in the still water. Upturning her eyes to the branches above her, she saw there the boy half concealed in the foliage, and she smiled with a smile triumphant and cruel, thinking once more her fortune had found her, and brought to her lodge the boy she was wanting.

She greeted him, "Come, why tarriest up there? Come to my lodge, perchance thou art hungry; the fire has been kindled, the water is boiling, a welcome awaits thee, why tarriest longer? Descend from the tree and let me behold thee".

Down climbed Eut-le-ten nothing affrighted, but filled with the knowledge no harm could befall him.

"Why hast thou come, and whence dost thou go? Why didst thou leave thy home by the sea?" Such were the questions E-ish-so-oolth asked him. Then struck by his fairness and beauty of limb, she questioned him thus, "Why is thy skin so fair, and why are thy limbs so beautiful?"

Then Eut-le-ten answered her, "When I was a boy my Mother laid me upon the bare ground with my head on a stone, my Father placed a large rock on my forehead. Thus I was given the gift of the fair."

E-ish-so-oolth was envious of Eut-le-ten and much desired to look as young as he, so that with face so comely and so fair, she could entice the children to her lodge, wherefore she asked with evil ill concealed, "Can I by any means obtain this gift?"

Then Eut-le-ten divining her base thought and much desiring to make an end of her, declared that if she would lie down, and on the stone which lay beside the creek recline her head, he would place upon her forehead the stone which would both mould her features like to his, and make her skin as fair. The witch determined to try the charm at once, stretching her great length upon the ground, placed her head upon the stone.

Then Eut-le-ten lifted a great rock and hurled it down upon the witches head. "Die dread E-ish-so-oolth," he cried. "No more with evil charms wilt thou entice the children to thy lonely forest home."

So died the witch, and nevermore do mothers say when children misbehave. "Be good or I will call E-ish-so-oolth."

THE OGRE

E-ish-so-oolth's husband was a mighty man, greater than any Indian on the coast. His limbs were rugged as the wind-swept fir which grows upon the stormy outer shores. His thick and matted hair fell in tangles over his great shoulders, and his sullen eyes looked from out his forehead with angry stare. Cruel as the gaunt and hungry timber wolf, such was the mate of dread E-ish-so-oolth. Beside him, Eut-le-ten had no length of arm or strength of limb with which to fend himself, still less attack this giant of the gloomy forest track, but he possessed weapons more potent than the brutal strength of this vile chehah man. A spirit child he was, a heaven sent boy, whom no evil ever could destroy.

THE DESTRUCTION OF THE OGRE

The Ogre was at work cleaving a fallen tree, using wedges formed from the hardest, toughest wood the Indians know. It was the Kla-to-mupt, the western yew. With mighty blows of his stone hammer, he sunk a wedge deep in the log, rending it open, split to the centre of its giant heart.

The thunderous blows were heard by Eut-le-ten, who with fine courage followed up the sound, until he came in view of where the huge man worked with all his might.

Blow upon blow fell upon the wedge, deeper it sank into the log. The split grew wider. The sides of the great rent pressed hard upon the wedge, so hard that if the wedge were hit a glancing blow, it would fly out.

Thus it was, when the Ogre saw the wonder boy approach, and his great frame was filled with rage, because the boy betrayed no fear of him, that his dark face lit up as with a flame.

Taking his sledge of stone he struck a blow, as if upon the wedge, but let it drop; deep in the crack it fell far out of reach.

"Come here my boy," he called, "I crave your help, I have lost my hammer within this mighty tree, I cannot reach it, so, jump in and get it, for I want it back."

Eut-le-ten climbed upon the log, and dropt within the split as he was bid; the Ogre gave the wedge a sudden jog and out it sprang, and the sides came together like the jaws of some great trap.

"Ha! Ha!" the Ogre cried, "Oh! what a joke! with but a single stroke I have ground him small. E-ish-so-oolth that gentle little fey, will dine on mince-meat."

The ugly Ogre made his clumsy jest, little knowing of the fate his spouse had met, when suddenly he saw upon the ground before him, an awesome thing, a little pool of water from which there came a quite unearthly sound. Then from the pool, with fear and awe, the Ogre saw brave Eut-le-ten uprise. Nothing could lay low this boy of wondrous parts, who could resolve himself to mother earth, and from the primal pool of tears arise to save the helpless and destroy their foes.

"Most wondrous boy, I feared that when the wedge slipt out you died; instead, my heart is filled with joy to see you live when I had thought you killed. Tell me from whence you draw your mystic power, and I will seek the place this very day. When I have found it out, I will repay you in ways more certain than I can now command."

Thus spake the ogre, and Eut-le-ten replied, "'Tis easy done. This gift is yours as well as mine. Test it but once, and you will see that you have powers as great as I."

The giant's bulky frame was filled with pride. "You're right," he swore, "the thing that you can do, by all the Tyee salmon, so can I."

Once more the wedge was driven to the heart, until again the sides were spread a-gape. In climbed the giant,--he did not think the fit would be so tight.

"Are you all ready?" Eut-le-ten called out.

"Yes!" roared the giant, with a thunderous shout.

"Die then!" cried Eut-le-ten, as he took the hammer up, and struck upon the side the great yew wedge. Out sprung the wedge, the sides snapped together, crushing within the ogre's ponderous frame.

Ignoring his wild shouts they crunched to powder all his giant bones.

The ogre and his mate were thus destroyed, and never more have children been led astray by E-ish-so-oolth's dread and magic craft, to suffer death in ways too sad to tell.

THE RELEASE OF THE CHILDREN

Then to the lodge sped brave Eut-le-ten to that great lodge of giant cedar logs, the home of the dead witch E-ish-so-oolth. The house was dark, for only through the door and the great smoke hole in the roof, did the pale light find its dim way. It was gloomy, and for the full time it takes a man to wake from a deep sleep, Eut-le-ten saw nothing but just the darkness of a moonless night, then slowly as if the day was dawning, objects were seen within the hall. In the centre was a smouldering fire, and in the hot ashes, some heated stones with which to boil the water in the wooden box in which the food was cooked. There beside the wooden box he saw two little forms, prepared by that old witch to satisfy her cruel appetite, and that of her bad chehah man. Then Eut-le-ten was very sad indeed, to think that he had come too late to save the little girls from such an awful fate, and as he looked and moaned within himself believing that his sister lay there dead, he heard a sound which seemed to come from the further end of the dark lodge, and turning round he saw some children imprisoned in a wicker cage. Then he spoke and told them to be brave, that he had come to save them from the witch; but they were frightened at the very sound of his strange voice, and cried aloud with fear. Eut-le-ten whispered softly, and with grease from the great whale he rubbed their eyes free from the pitch with which E-ish-so-oolth had closed them. Afterward he told them that his name was Eut-le-ten, who had killed E-ish-so-oolth, and how he had crushed the ogre within the log.

The frightened children were much comforted and followed Eut-le-ten from out of the lodge away from the dark house of E-ish-so-oolth into the sunlit woods, along the trail which led for many miles to the small bay. Then there was much rejoicing in the homes of all the children saved by Eut-le-ten, and joy unspeakable in his own lodge, when he gently led to his sorrowing mother the little sister, safe from the clutches of E-ish-so-oolth.

Then all the tribe did honor to Eut-le-ten. He was found in the councils of the chiefs, and tribes with homes on distant shores heard the great news--the news of how this wonder boy had killed the ogre and his dreaded wife, E-ish-so-oolth.