14. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHESTNUT TREE.
In a lodge that stood alone in a land of hills lived Dadjedondji with his older brother Hawiyas. Dadjedondji busied himself each day in the forests hunting game, catching fish, gathering fruits, berries, roots and nuts and studying the wonders of the woods. He prepared his own meals in the lodge and always ate them alone, for, strange to relate, his brother steadfastly refused to eat with him or, indeed, to eat in the presence of anyone. He never hunted or cooked, but sat all day smoking moodily.
The boy often pondered over the strange difference between his brother and himself and at length resolved to pretend to start on his daily hunt, then turn back and secretly watch his bother. He did as he had planned but failed to discover his brother, Hawiyas, eating or at any extraordinary practice. Night came and the two boys lay side by side with their feet toward the fire. Dadjedondji remained awake in order to continue his watch and toward midnight heard his brother stir. In his anxiety to spy upon him Dadjedondji sat upright and his brother seeing him dropped back upon his couch. Dadjedondji chided himself for his impulsiveness and when, some time later, Hawiyas asked in an undertone, “Are you awake now?” he remained quiet and did not reply.
Later Hawiyas arose cautiously believing himself unobserved and crept to the side of the lodge. Dadjedondji was peeping through a hole in the skin that covered him. Hawiyas pushed aside a sheet of bark and drew forth a small kettle and a tiny bag. From the bag he took a small nut from which he scraped a few shavings with a flint. Casting them into the kettle he poured in a quantity of water and shaking the kettle placed it over the fire. The water soon began to heat, and as it did so, the kettle increased in size until a pudding was cooked, when he dipped it out, cleaned the kettle, shook it and stored it away with the bag. Then he began to eat greedily, and, having satisfied his hunger, lay down and slumbered again.
The next night Dadjedondji concluded to try the experiment and while his brother slept crept to the hiding place, found the kettle and bag, and did exactly as his brother had done. He ate the pudding and found it most delicious. Wishing more, he threw the entire contents of the bag into the kettle and set it on to boil again. It was not long before the kettle began to expand so much so that it filled half the house. Moreover the pudding began to boil over in enormous quantities.
With a cry of dismay the brother awoke.
“Oh what have you done?” cried he, “Oh! I am dead, you have killed your own brother. Oh!”
“What troubles you, brother?” asked Dadjedondji as he skipped out from the lodge, “You do not look very much like a dead man.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the brother, “you have used all my food. It is all I eat and can eat. No one can obtain more of its kind for it is far away and charmed, so you have killed me!”
Scarcely had he spoken when the walls bulged and the building collapsed.
“Oh, do not worry brother,” said Dadjedondji, “there is more where this grew.”
“Ah yes, but no man can get it, use what magic he may.”
The brother raved throughout the remainder of the night but Dadjedondji slept unmoved.
When the morning came Dadjedondji sprang from the ground and expressed his surprise at his brother’s sober countenance. “Tell me the full history of your magical food,” he commanded.
Moodily the brother answered, “To the east is a great gap in the earth. Beyond it is a monstrous serpent whose poisonous breath kills all that comes where it blows. Should a man by chance, escape him, beyond are two panthers. Should some cunning magician creep by unobserved, beyond, high in the tree that bears the wonderful nuts, is a witch whose very look makes men fall apart, and her six sisters devour their meat. So boast not my brother, you cannot reach the tree. Know only this,—you have killed your brother.”
Dadjedondji thought about it and said to himself, “All these things are strange. They are not right, neither are they in according with the ways I know about, and, therefore, I can conquer all these obstacles.”
Boldly he set out with his face toward the rising sun. After a day’s journey he came to a chasm that extended far beyond the eye’s reach. “This is not right,” thought the boy, so whittling a doll from a soft chunk of decayed log, he threw it across the chasm and followed it with a running jump. He landed safely on the other side and immediately resumed his journey. For a time he hurried onward and then nearly rushed into the yawning jaws of a big snake that leaped from a hidden cavern.
“Oh, get out of my way,” said Dadjedondji flinging a wooden doll into its mouth.
Presently from a thicket appeared two panthers. Dadjedondji drew two more dolls from his pouch and cast one into the mouth of each beast. Then, without looking behind hurried onward again. A song came floating through the air and following the direction Dadjedondji came to a large branching tree. In its topmost branches hung the singer,—a flayed human skin,—but her charm song had no effect upon the boy for he said, “It is all wrong and I am right, therefore evil cannot befall me.”
The skin-woman lifted her voice and sang with increased vigor, “An intruder comes to our clearing.”
“Come down here,” called Dadjedondji, “I have a present for you, gaswe’´da, wampum. Promise you will be kind.”
The skin-woman seeing the handsome purple quills descended and accepted the gift with many grimaces and then drew back into the tree.
Now wampum is the emblem of truth and the skin-woman was entirely controlled by evil. Holding the beautiful necklace in her hand she sang, “I have been bribed by a present of wampum not to tell of a stranger’s approach.”
While she sang she threw the beads over her head and around her neck and the beads grew tight and choked her into silence.
Out rushed the six sisters that had been called ravenous cannibals, but their shouts were not those of anger or of gluttons, but glad cries of joy. Coming up to Dadjedondji they saluted him and with extravagant flattery thanked him for coming to rescue them from their evil sister.
They gave him a great bag of brown nuts and sent him back on his journey. The great witch had now no food and perished.
On his return the panthers angry at the deception he had practiced on them, pounced from the bushes.
“Go away, you are not doing right. I never heard of panthers acting as you are. Are you not ashamed? Go now and never dare trouble men again! You are now free!”
The panthers, surprised at their intended victim’s words, rushed off in fright. Dadjedondji continued his journey and rebuked the serpent and sent it wriggling to the nearest lake. Then he addressed the chasm.
“Oh, Earth, why are you rent? This is not the way of doing things. I have never seen such fissures in my life before. Close up once again and let men enjoy themselves!” And the earth closed with a loud crash.
Walking safely across the solid earth where once the breach had been, he persevered until he reached the ruins of his home. His brother was sitting mournfully on a log still lamenting, but Dadjedondji bade him cheer up, and showed him the large bag of nuts. He gave him enough for several meals and then sent him on to the lodge of the six sisters where he could find a good wife to cook for him. Then he went upon the side hills and scattered the nuts over the ground and in time beautiful trees grew and now all the world has chestnuts. When they were confined to one tree they were magical but now their powers have gone and they neither spread nor burst kettles.
GENERAL NOTES.—There are a number of stories similar to this. In some the hero is a nephew living with his uncle. The adventures of the hero in overcoming the magic beasts that guard the paths to the chestnut tree are various and recited in greater or less detail. In some stories the youth pacifies the hunger of the monsters by flinging chipmunks at them which increase in size and afford them a full meal. In one version the last guard of the tree is the skin of the boy’s sister, dried and hanging over the path. The skin is alive but held by sorcery as the slave of the wicked witch sisters. When the hero presents the wampum to her she sings out: “I cannot tell you now that a stranger is about to assail us, for he has stopped my mouth with wampum.” The six sisters thereupon rush forth and finding no enemy beat the skin and tell it to tell the truth hereafter and not give false alarms. In similar stories the hero projects himself into the body of one of the witches, as is done in the story of the magic arrow and the quilt of men’s eyes. He is then born and cries incessantly for power over the tree and the witch, yielding, he becomes master of the chestnuts. He is also the deliverer of the dried skin which he conjures back to its normal self, when he finds it to be his own sister. The mole is the hero’s dream animal and it aids him to perform his deeds of magic.