Seneca myths and folk tales

by Arthur C. Parker

21. TWO FEATHERS AND TURKEY BROTHER.

Long ago a whole tribe had been exterminated by powerful sorcerers. Of all the tribe only three persons remained. These were an old uncle and his two nephews, one very young and the other on the borderline of manhood.

The older boy was known as Two Feathers (Doä’danē´gĕⁿ’), and the younger received the name Turkey (Osoon), because he wore a robe made of a turkey skin. It was a magic skin and the little fellow was able to fly to the tops of trees, which gave him great pleasure.

There came a time when the uncle after watching the older nephew for some days, said, “My nephew it is my opinion that you should prepare yourself for your manhood. It is customary to depart from your abode and fast until your protecting friends appear unto you. Go forth to the river and build a sweat lodge, and when you have purified yourself, await the coming of your protectors.”

In obedience to his uncle’s directions Two Feathers departed and built himself a sweat lodge where he purified himself and fasted. On the tenth day he saw a great spider dropping down from the tops of the trees, and it spoke to him saying, “When you are in great distress I will be your protector.” Again he saw a great black snake rising from the ground and when it had reached the tops of the trees it spoke saying, “When you are in great distress and need a strong friend, I will be your protector.”

When Two Feathers returned to his uncle’s lodge he was a man and he knew that unseen powers were his friends. His uncle looked at him carefully and said, “My nephew, it is my opinion that you have become a man. Now it is customary for a man to seek a wife. It would make our lodge pleasant to have a young woman cook for us. Now, far away from here in a country to the east is a great man who has two daughters. It is my wish that you prepare for the journey and bring back a wife. It will take you several years,—how many I do not know.”

Two Feathers prepared for his journey and as he made his weapons his uncle watched him. “Come here,” said the uncle. “I would like to inspect your clothing.” So saying he looked at his nephew and then told him to disrobe. “You are not in the condition to make a woman receive you,” he said. “I will find a better costume for you.”

Opening his treasure chest, which he kept under his bed, the old man took out a fine fur robe made of raccoon skin. It was most beautiful and the fur was long and glossy. “Put this on, my nephew,” he said. Two Feathers donned the new costume and advanced for inspection. The uncle looked at him to discern any imperfection. “This robe is not good enough,” he said. “You are still not in condition to seek your wife. Disrobe and I will seek further among my treasures.”

The uncle now drew forth a robe of wildcat skin. It had short hair and was made so that it hung down like a long shirt with many tails. There were ears sewed around the neck and there were eyes on the sleeves. After looking at this shirt for a moment, the old man said, “Now, my nephew, this is a very old shirt and the wearer becomes very powerful in magic. It has eyes and ears and will guard the wearer when he sleeps. Put it on and let me see how you look.”

Two Feathers put on the shirt which just fitted him. It was very fine and he greatly admired it and wished to keep it as his shirt. The Uncle, however, surveyed it with a critical eye. Finally he said, “This shirt is not good enough. You are still in no condition to seek a wife and to overcome all the obstacles that lie in your trail from this lodge to where she resides. Disrobe, I must find something different.”

This time Two Feathers disrobed with reluctance. He wanted to keep that beautiful shirt. But as he watched his uncle he saw that another fine outfit was forthcoming. At the bottom of the treasure chest was a bundle done up in a deer skin folded into a case. This was opened and the uncle took out a panther-skin shirt, a pair of leggings, a pair of moccasins, a bow and quiver, a fisher skin pocket (pouch), a warclub and a pipe. “Now put these things on, my nephew,” said the uncle.

Two Feathers dressed and found that the panther shirt had the head of the panther as a cap and that the cap had two heron feathers above it. The whole costume was wonderful to see and Two Feathers now felt that there could be none better in all the world.

“Now, my nephew,” said the uncle. “I will show you what can be done with your clothing and accoutrements. The heron feathers on your hood will watch out for you and when you are in danger they will speak. Your fisher skin bag is alive and should anyone seek to harm you when asleep it will bite him. Your pipe and medicine root are in the bag. The medicine will give you power to spit wampum. The black end of the root will make dark wampum and the white end will make white wampum. Your pipe has the head of a bear upon it and it will growl when an enemy touches it, while the snakes on the bowl will hiss when you light your tobacco. Your bow looks old and useless, but it is filled with powerful magic and will guide your arrows straight.”

The uncle continued his instructions. “Now as you journey from here you will find three enchanted spots, and all must be avoided. You will pass a certain tree where there will be a boy playing about. He will ask you to lift him from the ground and place him in the long branch where he would like to swing up and down. Do not touch the boy for a sorcerer lives in the tree and when you lift up the boy the sorcerer will grasp you by the hair and tie you to his arrow and shoot you far away, and you will fall through the smoke hole of a witch’s lodge and will be eaten by her. She is the sorcerer’s wife. Further along the trail is a deep spring where there is sparkling water. Oh nephew, do not drink this water for there are monsters living in it who will draw you in and drown you. Further along and near the settlement where you are to go is a grove of very tall trees. Here you will see an old man who will hop around strangely. He will ask you to shoot a raccoon. Oh my nephew, do not pay any attention to him. He will be the cause of your ruin if you heed his pleas.”

Two Feathers now understood how to proceed and was about to start when Turkey, his younger brother, began to cry that he also wanted to go. Neither the uncle nor Two Feathers could dissuade him, and so he, too, made ready for departure.

Off they went on the journey. Turkey flew ahead in short flights and called back from the tree tops the condition of the trail, for it was very early in the morning and it was still quite dark. Very rapidly they traveled, until by noon they had traveled a distance that takes ordinary people three years to go. This was because Turkey flew and Two Feathers wore magic moccasins which made him take very long strides. They now saw a trail lodge and sat down to rest. Soon they espied a small boy playing about a large oak. As he played he came nearer in a friendly manner and asked to be placed in the long branch of the tree that he might swing up and down. Two Feathers placed the boy on a stump and put this under the tree. As he did this there was a great roar as if the wind were moving through the forest, and two gigantic arms came down and grabbed the stump, at the same time fixing it to the tip of a large arrow, and soon the stump flew through the air and into the witch’s lodge and knocked her into the fire.

Two Feathers and Turkey now went on their journey and in a short time came to a clearing where there was a fine spring of bubbling water continually outflowing. “Oh brother, do not drink,” said Turkey. “Remember what our uncle told us.” Two Feathers went on, but being very thirsty turned back and knelt by the spring to drink. As he leaned over a horrible creature leaped from the water and endeavored to pull him in. Two Feathers gave a pull and jumped back, throwing the monster into the clearing. “Oh put me back,” it cried. Two Feathers asked Turkey to watch it, then he went back to the spring to drink, but as he did so another monster covered with hair leaped at him and hung onto his head. Two Feathers pulled again and dragged the monster out, placing it in the care of Turkey. A third time this was repeated, after which both boys drank from the spring. The clearing was a spot where had once been a prosperous village, but sorcerers had poisoned the spring and killed all the people by dragging them into the depths of the water.

Two Feathers and Turkey made a fire and burned the monsters, and their heads bursting with shrieks, there flew away a flock of screech-owls.

The journey continued until it was near sunset. The boys sat down again and soon observed that they were in a grove of very tall trees. Presently they noticed an old man dancing about and shouting, “Hai‘, hai‘, hai‘, hai‘.” In a moment he approached and said, “Oh my nephews, there is a raccoon on that branch and I have no bow or arrow. I wish you would shoot it for me.”

Two Feathers would not listen to Turkey, who flew about gobbling, in order to draw his attention to the warning their uncle had given.

“Most truly, my uncle,” said Two Feathers. “I will shoot that raccoon for you. It is a very easy matter.” So saying, he took out an arrow, strung his bow and shot. “Hiñg,” went the arrow and hit the raccoon, piercing its heart.

Now in an altogether unexpected way the raccoon ran from the limb to the trunk of the tree and down a large hole at the top where the tree was broken off.

“Oh my nephew,” cried the old man in distress. “I am too old and weak from lack of food to climb after the raccoon, which has gone into its hole to die. Oh my nephew, climb after it for me.”

“That will be easy uncle,” said Two Feathers. “I will climb now.”

“Oh no, no, no! Do not spoil your clothing which I see is very nice. Take it off beneath the tree and I will watch it for you.” So Two Feathers took off all his clothing and climbed the tree.

Up he went like a squirrel and soon was at the top, but as he stood looking down into the hole he heard a noise behind him and caught a glimpse of the old man who shoved him into the hole. Down went Two Feathers into the hollow of the tree, and down into a pit beneath the roots where he smelt the flesh of victims and felt their bones beneath his feet. He knew that he had been trapped. Outside he could hear Turkey calling with a gobbling call, and he knew that something evil was in progress.

The old man descended the tree by a route known to himself by long familiarity, and then he went to the clothing which Two Feathers had left behind. “I have been looking for nephew’s clothing for I expected that he would pass this way. Now I shall be able to cross the river and take the great man’s daughter as my wife. Now I shall possess great magical power.”

Off went the old man, looking renewed in body and becoming more and more handsome with every step. Soon he reached the river and standing upon the bank he gave a loud clear call that could be heard for a long ways. On the other side of the river was a long house and the voice penetrated it. The elder of two sisters, ran out and taking her canoe paddled it across the stream.

When the imposter was in the canoe he said, “I have come a long ways to reach this place. I am a great hunter and am looking for a wife.”

“I think I would like to have you for my husband,” said the girl. “I will take you to our lodge and show you where we live.”

When the imposter came to the lodge he met the chief, and said he had come as a son-in-law. “You will do,” said the Chief. “Go in and see where we live.”

Going into the lodge the Chief’s wife gave him food and then the young woman showed him her bed. It was a fine bed with many soft robes of skin and a curtain made of fox skins sewed together. “Here is where you will lodge, as my husband,” said the girl. So that night Imposter ate wedding bread and was married.

When Two Feathers awoke the next morning he was very sick and could scarcely stand. His bed had been a place of filth and terror. His head felt light and he could see lights before his eyes. He began to think how he might escape, and then remembered that he had dreamed of the spider. “Come, my friend Spider,” he called, “release me, for you promised to be my protector.”

In a moment a great spider appeared above the opening and let down a braided strand of web. Two Feathers grasped it and was drawn up nearly to the top, when the web broke and he fell into the tree. He was greatly disappointed, but determined to call upon the black snake. “Come, my friend Black Snake,” he called, “release me, for you promised to deliver me from trouble.” In another moment a great serpent had climbed the tree and let down its tail, which coiled about Two Feathers and drew him forth. It then vanished.

Turkey was happy to see his brother and helped him put on the dirty clothing left by the old man. Two Feathers dressed with great difficulty and when he had put on the stiff worn-out moccasins and scabby looking cap, he looked like a very old man who was very sick. Slowly Turkey and he walked down the trail to the river. At length they reached the bank, and Two Feathers called, but his voice was so weak it could not be heard. It was like a whisper. Turkey then called and when he did so a young woman went down to the river and leaped in a canoe. Imposter saw her. “O do not go across,” he said. “It is only a dirty old man with a turkey.”

The young woman did not like Imposter, and gave him no heed. Across the river she went and took Two Feathers and Turkey in her canoe. When they were part way over the river Two Feathers said, “I have come a long ways to this place. My name is Two Feathers and I am a young man seeking a wife.”

“It is apparent that you are an old man,” said the girl. “I am the only girl whom you can marry, but how can you who look so old and filthy expect to secure a wife?”

“I met with trouble as I approached the river,” answered Two Feathers. “I helped an old man who wanted me to kill a raccoon but it was only a wizardly creation of his and he required that I should take off my clothing and climb after it. I removed my clothing, which had great power, and climbed the tree. When I was looking into the hole he pushed me in, and there were bones beneath.”

“Alas,” said the girl, “I am of the opinion that my brothers are among the victims.”

When they landed on the opposite side, the girl led the lame old man to the lodge and told him to look in. “I have brought my husband,” said she. Thereupon Imposter spoke to the Chief and asked if he would allow his daughter to marry a diseased old man. The Chief looked at Two Feathers and answered, “I am of the opinion that my daughter knows her own mind in this matter.”

So the girl took Two Feathers into the lodge and showed him her bed. It was a most beautiful bed and its robes were of the softest doe skin, with a mattress of deer hair beneath. The walls and top were covered with porcupine quill embroidery like a box, and the curtain was of martin skins sewed together, and the apartment had sweet herbs hung within, to make it pleasant. The platform over the bed was arranged as a sleeping place for Turkey.

At supper Two Feathers ate marriage bread, but nobody spoke to him but his wife, for he was not attractive in appearance and added nothing to the strength of the lodge, only providing another mouth to feed, when famine was almost upon them. When all had eaten Imposter took off his pouch of fisher skin and said that he would now smoke. He placed his hand in the mouth to reach for the pipe, and gave a wild cry, for the fisher bit his wrist and caused him great pain. In dropping the bag the magic medicine fell out, and being only like a withered root it was not noticed, so Two Feathers grabbed it and hid it in his bosom.

The time for sleep came and all retired. Imposter would not lay off his garments, much to the disgust of his wife. He was afraid that Two Feathers would steal them, and he knew that though he slept Turkey was watching.

Many days passed and Two Feathers looked more sick than ever, while Imposter grew more bold. Yet he never went on a hunt for he had no bow and arrows; these he had failed to pick up from Two Feather’s outfit, for they had looked so old and ill made. One night Two Feathers told his wife that he must have a large bowl when he awoke, for he had eaten an herb. So the next morning he called for the bark bowl, and taking it opened his mouth and blew into it, filling it with dark wampum, to the brim. “Present this to your father,” said Two Feathers, and the young woman did so to the great delight of the old man, who said, “Ah, I knew that he was a great man.”

Now when Imposter saw what had been done he felt that he had lost favor, so he asked his wife for a bowl and taking an emetic filled the bowl with all manner of foul lizards, toads and worms that he had eaten. Ordering his wife to take this to the Chief, he strutted about proudly. When the Chief saw the malodorous mess he roared in great anger and drove his son-in-law from the lodge.

The next night Two Feathers ate of the root again and called for the bowl. This time he filled it with white wampum to the delight and gratification of the Chief, who again said, “I am of the opinion that we entertain a great man.” Imposter tried to imitate Two Feathers once more but only produced little round worms that so fouled the bark bowl that the Chief ordered the wife to scrub it all day to clean it.

That night there was a great feast and Imposter ate so much that he was forced to remove his clothing, and he was so sleepy that he threw it at the foot of the bed and on the floor. Long he slept, and failed to awaken in the morning. Two Feathers was up very early and before anyone else. He took his bow and magic arrows and killed a great quantity of deer which he dragged to the lodge. Then he took his own fine clothing, which had become frayed and soiled and put it on. Immediately it became bright and new. Two Feathers also began to grow more and more youthful until he entirely recovered. His wife was very happy. The Chief, moreover, was glad and called all the people to a council.

Two Feathers was the central figure in this council and exhibited the powers of his costume. He pointed his pouch toward a woman and she fell down dead; he sprinkled her with medicine and she rose to her feet. He smoked his pipe and the bear upon it blinked its eyes and opened its mouth, while the snakes on the stem wriggled as if alive. The eyes of the panther hood glowed and the feathers spoke. Then again Two Feathers made wampum. Everybody was satisfied, most of all the Chief and his daughter.

After a while Imposter awoke and found his wife looking at him in disgust. “You are a filthy old man,” she said. “I will have no more to do with you.” She kicked him out of bed and made him put on his old clothes. “You lied to me,” she said and led him to a hole where the women customarily threw their garbage and thrust him in. Then she went away from him and nobody ever saw him again.

The Chief then said that it was his wish that all the people follow Two Feathers back to his home, for he was a great man and had slain all the wizards and monsters that infested the path. So they went and it took them a good many years to return. Turkey was now a man and took off his turkey clothes and dressed like a warrior. He, too, found a good-looking girl and married her.

After a long time the people all came to the uncle’s lodge and he was a very old man. Two Feathers told what he had done and the uncle was happy. He now had women to cook for him, and he felt that the world was rid of sorcerers. Then the old lodge was repaired and all the people dwelt there, and if you can find it you will find the people dwelling there to this day.

22. TWO FEATHERS AND WOODCHUCK LEGGINGS.[^[33]]

Now this is a Two Feathers story. All the old people of the old-time knew about this; and it happened a long time ago.

Do´cioweⁿ‘ was the place where they lived,—an old uncle and his nephew. The young man was called Two Feathers and the uncle was known by name as Woodchuck Leggings.

Two Feathers was a hunter and never feared to hunt any animal, but he was kind to the animals and could talk to them, so they became his friends. He had a pet bear in a small yard and he had a wolf that he had tamed. He said that it was the same as a man.

Now you ought to know that he had fine clothes. They were made of white buckskin and embroidered all over with porcupine quills. He had also a tobacco pouch made of a spotted fawn’s skin with the feet and head on and in this he kept a pipe having a bear’s head carved on it, and eyes that rolled when the jaws of the bear chewed the tobacco inside. He had a gŭstoñ´we‘ (feathered hat), with two feathers in front, and on the hat there were two chirping birds.

Two Feathers acquired magic and became very strong, but he did not let anyone know that he was Hotci´noⁿ’ga‘, (a charm holder).

One day when Two Feathers was hunting in the woods he saw an old bark house. Cautiously approaching it he found an old man inside; though at first he thought it was a wolf. The old man was very hungry and so Two Feathers gave him meat to eat. “I have been looking for you a long time,” said the old man. “You have been merciful to me and I am going to give you my arrow. It does not look like a good arrow, but most truly it has great power.” So saying he drew forth from a bundle in which he kept many kinds of war charms, an arrow and handed it to Two Feathers. Two Feathers was glad and leaving the old man some dried meat, departed.

After a while he came to another village across a river where he slept overnight. He noticed two girls, one older and one younger, named Drooping Flower. He looked at the younger girl and she looked at him, and something went out of his eyes into her eyes, and something went out of her eyes into his. He said to himself, “That’s the one.” One of the villagers saw this and told Two Feathers that he was now under the spell of a very evil witch, the mother of the girl.

After a time Two Feathers saw the girl again and said to her, “I am coming for you by and by.” Then he went home to his uncle who all this time had been living on woodchuck meat, because he was an unskillful hunter. The old man was angry at Two Feathers for his long absence, and upbraided him.

After a time a runner came to the village near which Two Feathers and his uncle dwelt. He called the people together and told them that all the people in the valley across the river were starving. Hunters had been unable to secure game and the corn harvest had failed.

Now Woodchuck Leggings thought this a good time to find a wife, who weakened with famine, he could overcome and drag back to his lodge. Two Feathers thought about the young girl whose eyes’ light had gone into his own. He thus prepared to take the trail along a creek having rapids and falls, and to go by a short but difficult route. Off he went in great haste, taking all his bundles and charms with him. Woodchuck Leggings noticed this and was angry for he had resolved to steal them when he had an opportunity. He now resolved to follow his nephew and slay him if he could.

When Two Feathers reached the valley village he found the people starving. Drooping Flower was too weak to stand up. Two Feathers now asked all the women who could to gather about their doorways and play the plum-stone game and to sing:

“Ganio daweeni, the game is coming.”

He then went into the woods at the edge of the clearing and sang a magic song, at the same time taking out four arrows which had lain close to the arrow the old man had given him.

One by one he shot the arrows into the air, each in a different direction, at the same time calling, “Bring me meat from different animals.”

Returning to the lodge of Drooping Flower he sat in the doorway and waited. Soon high overhead he heard a song. The people rushed out of doors and listened, and sure enough, there was a song in the air. The words were: “The wild animals are coming.” In a moment the song had reached the ground and four animals came running to the doorway where Two Feathers sat waiting. Each animal had an arrow sticking in its heart. On they came to the lodge and then dropped dead at Two Feathers’ feet. There was a deer, a moose, an elk and a bear.

The starving village then had food and Drooping Flower recovered. Then a council was called and all the people sat around to see Two Feathers, who sat in the middle of the hall on a bench. He took from his pouch his bear-bowled pipe and put a pinch of tobacco into it.

“My friends and cousins,” he said. “I must have an ember for my pipe. How shall I get it? Ho yo ho! Fly birds, fly!” As he spoke the chipping-birds on his hat began to flutter and then to fly. They flew to the fire and took coals from it which they placed in his pipe, after which the birds sat on his hat. Oh the fragrance of the smoke was pleasing, and the bear on the bowl rolled its eyes and chewed the tobacco. “Oh you like my tobacco?” asked Two Feathers. “So does my pouch. Dance pouch, dance!” What was happening? The spotted pouch detached itself from his belt and scampered over the floor a living fawn. Then he called it back to its strap.

“It is now getting late,” observed Two Feathers. “Now bring me a good deer-skin, well tanned. I will give all of you good presents.” Drooping Flower brought a skin and placed it before him. He began, then, to make a noise like “tsŭt, tsŭt, tsŭt.” Opening his mouth wide he blew out a great stream of wampum beads. Immediately there was a scramble for the beads and nearly everybody grabbed a handful.

As Two Feathers left the house he saw the jealous, blazing eyes of his uncle, Woodchuck Leggings. The old man had never dreamed that his nephew had powers like these. He then began to spread mischief by saying that Two Feathers was an evil sorcerer and that he would soon become Oñgwe Iās and eat up everybody.

Now Drooping Flower’s mother was a witch and hated anybody with power. So she called Woodchuck Leggings and talked to him. He told her how to proceed to overcome Two Feathers.

That night Two Feathers and Woodchuck Leggings slept on one side of the witch’s lodge. Midnight came and the old woman began to have a bad dream. She began to throw fire upon Two Feathers but the chipping-birds chirped so loudly they awakened him, and he saw the old woman on her knees at the fire grunting, as if in a dream, “ĕⁿ‘´, ĕⁿ‘´, ĕⁿ‘´!” Leaping up he hit her with a corn pounder, exclaiming, “What is it, my aunt?” Pretending to awaken she answered, “It is now finished. I have had a dream and must be satisfied. Oh I must have the antlers of two large buck elk that live in a cold lake. I must have them by morning or direful things will happen.”

Two Feathers immediately set out to satisfy the old woman’s dream demand. Now no one had ever seen these elk, which were known by their splashing only, and all persons who went into the lake were devoured by the horned serpent. Two Feathers jumped into the water saying, “I know that I can do this thing.” Long he swam into the darkness, for there was no starlight or moon. After a time he heard splashing and a noise like heavy breathing. Taking his arrow from an oiled skin bag he spoke to it and then shot. There was a great flash of light in the sky and the mysterious lake elk were revealed. The arrow had pierced both of them. Mounting one of the elks he ordered them to swim ashore. “What do you want?” they asked when they stood upon the homeward beach. “I want your horns,” he answered. “Oh that is all right, nephew,” they said and shed their antlers. “I am sorry I had to kill you, but the woman desired it in satisfaction of a dream.” The elks spoke again, “The woman has deceived you.” Then they disappeared.

The gift of the great antlers only increased the old woman’s anger and the next night she dreamed that she must have the pelts of the wampum-coated deer. They had no hair but curled shells on their skins. If they saw anyone they would trample them to death. So then, Two Feathers set forth to catch the wampum deer. He made a sweat house by the lick where the deer came in the night. He threw tobacco all around it and then waited. Soon two does came and Two Feathers shot his magic arrow, killing both. Then he lighted his pipe and began to sing. Instantly a great drove of bucks came rushing to the sweat lodge but they could not touch it, so powerful was the magic of Two Feathers. After a while he heard them stamping away and he arose and went out and skinned the deer.

The beautiful pelts covered with shells only made the old woman more angry, as Two Feathers presented them at daybreak. She screeched and scolded and called him an evil sorcerer. But the next night she again asked satisfaction of a dream.

On this occasion she demanded that Two Feathers go to a hot lake and bring back two white beavers, reputed to be of great magical potency. “Oh that is very easy, my aunt,” answered Two Feathers, “I will bring them at daylight.” Setting forth he reached the lake and taking out his arrow spoke to it. “Speed on and find the game that I desire,” he commanded.

The arrow sped forth and soon it struck a beaver which came swimming toward him, bringing another with it on a wave. This he struck with a small white stone and both were dead. Taking them to the old woman’s lodge he threw them at her feet. “You may have the meat,” he said, “but I will keep the skins.” This made the old woman angry for the beavers were her brothers. So then again she dreamed and commanded him to satisfy her by dangerous tasks, but his magic power always won. At length, dispairing of causing him harm in this manner, the mother announced that her right mind had returned. She resolved upon a new plan, and became very kind to Two Feathers. When Two Feathers found that the mother was no longer the oracle of the spirits he started home where he might provide for his own father and mother.

The Do´cioweⁿ‘ people listened with great sorrow to Two Feathers’ story of the distressed tribesmen of Ganun dasēy and rejoiced when he told them how his luck had delivered them. But he was restless and could not bear separation from Drooping Flower, thus he announced that he was going again to the Valley of the Pleasant River to get a wife.

Woodchuck Leggings had seen Drooping Flower and he wanted her, and hearing that his nephew was to visit her, resolved to accompany him, kill him on the journey, put on his clothing, gain the magic articles, and then steal Drooping Flower. The mother of the girl had given Woodchuck Leggings a death charm and he made up his mind to use it upon his nephew. Moreover the woman asked him to do so.

“May I go with you?” he asked Two Feathers, when he saw his nephew ready.

“No, Uncle,” was the reply.

“But I am going nevertheless!”

“Then not with me,—never!” was Two Feathers’ answer.

Two Feathers set out the next morning and when he had traveled three days he met Woodchuck Leggings, who had a day’s start on the journey. He saw him sitting on a stump with his back toward the trail.

“Niawĕ’´skäno’!” shouted Two Feathers.

“Dogĕ‘s!” was the startled reply.

“How came you here, Uncle?”

“I am on my journey.”

“Then if it is your journey you must not expect to go with me, for I will not allow it.” Two Feathers ran on ahead leaving his uncle still sitting on the stump. When night came he set up camp and kindled a fire for cooking a supper. As he lay down for sleeping he heard the night birds scream and listening he heard the crackling of sticks. Lifting his bow, he prepared for the enemy, whatever it might be. In the dim light of the dying camp fire, he saw the shadow of a ragged old man, limping along the trail. It was Woodchuck Leggings.

“Niawĕ’´skäno’´, Uncle!” said Two Feathers in greeting.

“Doge‘s! Agī! dodŭs‘ha ä‘kwa!” “(Truly, O give me to eat)!” gasped the hungry uncle.

Two Feathers spoke to his arrows, shot into the tree tops and a large turkey fell to the ground at the feet of the uncle, who was too frightened to move.

“Pull the arrow out and cook the bird,” commanded the nephew. But his uncle was too frightened, for the arrow was magic. (Beyond this, it was not right to touch the arrows of another hunter when they were sticking in dead game.) Woodchuck Leggings was too exhausted to prepare his own meal and fell to the earth from weakness. So the faithful and unsuspicious nephew roasted the bird and shaking the dozing man exclaimed, “Sĕdekonĭ (Come eat)!”

So he devoured the bird and ate his fill of parched corn and maple sugar. He begged that his nephew should not turn him away in the darkness, for he was afraid of the flying heads. He pleaded for a little space on one side of the fire by his nephew’s side. Two Feathers did not relish the idea but pitied the old coward, and gave him a place in which to sleep.

The crafty old scoundrel watched his opportunity. When Two Feathers was fast asleep, he made his way, stealthily to the other side of the fire and drew from his shirt a long sharp point of hickory bark. It was the death charm. Two Feathers was lying on his side. Kneeling at his back he lifted the bark high above his head and brought it down with all his strength, plunging it into the back of his victim just between the shoulders. Removing his own dirty garments, Woodchuck Leggings replaced them with the beautiful white clothes of Two Feathers. He felt for the magic pipe and pouch and found both safe, but he had forgotten the magic arrow in his haste.

In the morning he continued his journey and at sunset came to the village. A scout noted his arrival and cried, “Here comes Two Feathers!” As false Two Feathers passed by the fires between the lodges, the people noticed with wonder that the beautiful white deer skin clothing had become soiled and torn. The tobacco pouch had caught in a bush and half the quill work had been ripped off.

He entered Drooping Flower’s lodge. “Come, we can get married now,” he said.

Drooping Flower did not need to look at him a second time. “You are not real Two Feathers,” she exclaimed. “Where is Two Feathers?”

“I am he!”

“Sonohweh! You are a liar!”

“We shall see,” answered the pretender.

The next day he called a council and when all had taken their seats he strode through the door with great pomp and took his position on the singer’s bench. Grasping a rattle he began to sing, but his voice was cracked. He stopped suddenly, as he caught the gaze of the men. “I have a cold, brothers,” he apologized. “But now I will smoke, and the sweetness of my tobacco will please you; but where shall I get my fire,—Ho, ho! Fly little birds!” But his commands were in vain and he was compelled to get his own light. “My birds are bashful,” he explained. He lighted his pipe and began to blow the smoke into the air. The foul fumes filled the lodge and nearly stifled the people. Women held their breaths or breathed through their shawls; the men coughed and the babies cried. “My tobacco is damp tonight,” he said, “but you shall see my pouch dance for me,—dance pouch, dance!” The pouch clung to his side limper than ever. In spite of his commands and threats it would not move a finger’s breadth. “My pouch,” he explained, “is bashful and now as I am tired, if Drooping Flower will bring me a skin I will speak out wampum.” Drooping Flower refused to obey and whispered, “He is a liar!” Drooping Flower’s older sister, Wīäsoⁿ’, took pity on the unsuccessful conjurer, and hoping to win a man, took down a skin from the wall behind her and placed it on the singer’s bench.

“Now since all my things are bashful, I will pay you for the trouble in coming here, see—I blow out wampum when I breathe!” Sure enough, from his mouth flew a quantity of small white cylinders. The people bent over to pick up the valued wampum beads, but were again disappointed, for instead of wampum were clusters of loathly worms. With a shamed face Wīäsoⁿ’ returned the skin to the peg and the council was dismissed by the head sachem.

False Two Feathers felt that he must do something to redeem himself, so going to the woods the next morning he shot all his arrows and called for game, but failing to get any, in desperation clubbed two woodchucks to death and brought them back. No one would touch them.

The people looked at him as one who had lost power by displeasing his own charms and paid more attention to him. No one would now associate with him save Wīäsoⁿ’ who asked him to marry her, and he did.

Two Feathers awoke after several days unconsciousness and found a great herd of forest animals about him.

“Our brother, you have been sick,” said the wolf, the spokesman. “You were stabbed by Woodchuck Leggings as you were sleeping. But as you were kind, so we are not ungrateful and our blood has kept you nourished while you slept. The animal spirits are crafty and know their friends and foes. You are about to undergo misfortune but do not faint,—keep up courage and listen to what we tell you.”

Two Feathers was weak and dizzy, and it took him a long time to reach the Valley village. Painfully he crept along the sunken trail until he reached a corn field where he heard women singing as they cut the blighted corn stalks. He called, and Drooping Flower hearing his voice, found him wounded and exhausted. She stooped down and he whispered something in her ear. The crowd of women was now about him. “Where is Woodchuck Leggings?” he inquired. “You are Woodchuck Leggings; don’t you know yourself?” cried all women. Two Feathers said no more.

For nearly a year Two Feathers lived in an old bark house which hardly sheltered him from the snow or kept away the springtime rain. He looked like, and was, a sickly old man. Every one knew him by his cough and pitied him.

In those days there was a great white eagle, a magic bird. The people of the village had erected two high poles with cross-pieces, upon which the eagle was wont to alight as it passed over the settlement.

The mother of Drooping Flower worried because her daughter would not take a husband and asked her why she would not marry. To such inquiries the girl replied, “I shall never marry until the white eagle shall be shot. The man who sends an arrow through him shall be my husband!” These words pleased the mother and she told everybody about it and gave it out in council.

A day for the tournament was set and when it came a hundred young men from the entire nation gathered on the council grounds, eagerly awaiting the signal. The great white eagle, with whistling wings, flew from pole to pole, pausing now and then to give a scream. The signal was given, and a hundred arrows struck its feathers, broke, and fell to the earth below. Through all the day the contesting warriors shot their arrows upon the magic eagle, but he shook them off like snow flakes and mocked their efforts by his screaming.

Two Feathers, dressed in the tattered skins of Woodchuck Leggings, watched the flight of arrows from his doorway. The young men laughed at him and asked him if he were going to try his skill, but to no one would he reply. At length when no one was watching, the ugly, lame, coughing old man made his way to a corner of the council grounds. He had no bow, but in his hand he carried an arrow. Drooping Flower’s mother saw him, and recognized who he was, but kept her secret. She looked him in the eyes and contemptuously exclaimed “Chisna!” While she was still looking this despised old man made a pantomime motion as if grasping a bow, pulled his arrow and let fly. He hobbled back to his lodge, coughing violently.

There was a great shout followed by an excited hum of voices. “It was my arrow—no mine—liars, it was my arrow—wrong, I know my arrow by the painted shaft—mine—mine—no mine—my arrow, I know it by the red quill!” The din grew louder and wilder. Blows were exchanged and some struck with clubs. The older men rushed out and surrounded the excited throng and said they would shoot them with their arrows and commanded the riot to cease. When quiet had been restored the old sachem cried out, “That man killed the bird who can draw the arrow out!”

Man after man tried very hard but all failed. False Two Feathers made his boast and kneeling, prepared to pull it. He faltered;—his eyes filled with water. It was the same arrow that had killed the turkey for his supper on the night when he had plunged the death charm into Two Feathers! He arose and went to his house. “The eagle is shot,” said he to his wife. “No one can draw the arrow out.”

There was a great discussion and every one was asked for his opinion, but no one had any idea who the marksman was, save the mother of Drooping Flower, and Woodchuck Leggings. Then a stranger who had not hitherto ventured to speak, stepped upon a stump and shouted, “You have not asked the old man with a cough!” The people laughed at the stranger’s suggestion and watched him curiously as he ran to the abode of Two Feathers. The stranger grasped Two Feathers by the hand, by both hands, and whispered in his ear. The stranger was the wolf whom he had befriended in the lonely cabin.

Two Feathers limped to the slain bird and all the people shouted “Hōa‘ho’´! Old-Bones-with-a-cough is going to try, yo-a-hoh!”

“Old Bones-with-a-cough” touched the arrow, it clung to his finger and followed his hand into the air. All the people shouted “Whoei‘!”

The sachem took his stand and proclaimed Drooping Flower the wife of the old man with a cough, and the mother frowned as she was compelled to say, “Nio’!”

“A medicine man quick!” shouted Two Feathers. “Give me him whom you call fallen Two Feathers!”

Woodchuck Leggings hurried forward, ever ready to be where there was a chance of being looked at.

“Build a sweat lodge of fat bear skins, bring large lumps of fat and them heat fire-stones and bring them in,” directed Two Feathers.

Woodchuck Leggings built a little dome-shaped lodge by sticking the ends of flexible poles into the ground and bending them over, and after a hunter had skinned a fat bear, he covered the lodge frame with the skin, hair-side out. When the hot stones were brought in they heated the interior to such a degree that the fat on the skins melted and ran down in streams. After Two Feathers’ body was drenched with the oil, he asked that his “doctor” rub him until it had been well absorbed by the skin. He then requested the famous “medicine man” to pack a lump of fat between his shoulders, cover it with a small skin and place a hot stone over it. A cold one was selected. “Hotter, Uncle!” said Two Feathers, for the first time calling him by this name. The second stone was only slightly warmer, “Hotter yet, Uncle!” Another stone was placed on the skin but Two Feathers still shouted, “Hotter yet, Uncle.” The next stone was dull red and Woodchuck Leggings slapped it on with a thud. “Dogeⁿ’s wi’ o!” shouted Two Feathers and putting his hands to the back of his neck he threw off the poultice. He grasped the bark which had worked partly out. He gave it a hard pull. Woodchuck Leggings grew suspicious and began to tremble with fear. With a loud cry Two Feathers pulled the bark point from his neck and before the cringing man before him had time to utter a sound, Two Feathers struck him a heavy blow over the neck. The death charm sank into the flesh, passed between the bones in his back and Woodchuck Leggings lay dead.

“The sick one has recovered!” shouted Two Feathers. “Every one go away while I dress.” The wondering throng which had sat chanting about the lodge during the ceremony, went to their lodges, curious to know what had happened, for the voice which they had heard commanding them was one which in itself compelled obedience and awe, and seemed to come from neither of the men whom they had seen enter the lodge.

Two Feathers washed his body in ashes, put on his old suit which Woodchuck Leggings had ruined, but which was restored as it touched his body, and ran out into the council grounds. The people looked at him in astonishment. Who could it be? The handsome man seemed like someone whom they had known before, and yet no one ventured to say who it was.

“I shall call a council for tonight; I bring news!” shouted Two Feathers.

Two Feathers took the speaker’s seat and addressed the people. “Brothers! I am Two Feathers, the same who once delivered you from the famine, by the power of my charms, I delivered you from the two grim sisters that breathed into your faces and almost stopped your breath. So soon have you forgotten me, but remember, I am not blaming you, for I know the reason, and you are not to be blamed.”

“Brothers! I was stricken in the forest by the treachery of Woodchuck Leggings, who thought that by taking my life he could take my power, but he was mistaken, for he has taken neither. For a long time I have suffered, alone, neglected and despised by all the people, but now that I have recovered, he who designed my misfortune himself has met it. I have killed him with his own charm.”

The gestures of Two Feathers, his face and his voice thrilled the people and with one accord they shouted, “Nio’´!”

“Now friends and brothers, let us rejoice in my restored life and power. See, I smoke! Fly birds, fly and bring me a light.” The birds flew from his hat with chirps of joy. They fluttered up and down and flew through the council house from end to end. They went into the fire, pulled out a brand and placed it in his pipe. They brushed against his face again and again singing. Two Feathers caught them in his hands and placed them back on his feather cap. He spoke to his pouch, “Dance, pouch, dance,—be my spotted fawn.” The pouch leaped from his side and danced better than it had before. It danced in a circle around him as he stood on the floor, it jumped over his head, rolled and tumbled, rubbed against his legs, leaped and gave every sign of life. “Enough!” exclaimed Two Feathers, and reluctantly it ran back to his belt, nothing but a limp skin pouch. “Now brothers, bring a skin.” Someone brought him the pelt which Woodchuck Leggings had used. “What, spoiled by worms? See, I smoke.” A puff of smoke purified the skin. “See, I breathe. Now look.” Wampum dropped from the frost of his breath and piled up in a heap on the skin.

The sachems and head men now began to speak. Never did a man receive a better welcome. The people were glad, the women sang a welcome song and then all rushed to put friendly hands on him,—all but two. These slunk from the room, one with eyes brimming with angry tears and the other with a face drawn into a horrible frown. This one ground her teeth in rage, she ran her claw fingers down her cheeks until the blood flowed in streams. She tore her hair, and with shrieks ran into the darkness.

The council was over and there was a commotion in the lodge of Drooping Flower. The mother lay on her couch screeching as she tore her clothing into shreds, chewed the flesh from her fingers and bit them off at the joints. Then she suddenly sprang up and shook her hands before her face. The sinews dangled over the white bones and blood spurted from the meat. Suddenly the lodge became darkened,—a rush of air was felt and a yelp was heard, like that of a dog pierced with an arrow. When a torch was lighted the mother had gone. She could not be found though the people searched in forest and in open. Only tracks of a big dog could be seen leading from the lodge. They were traced to a pond which had neither inlet nor outlet, and there they stopped. It was found out she had been a witch.

GENERAL NOTES.—The story of Two Feathers and his jealous uncle, Woodchuck Leggings is one of the favorite tales of the Seneca. It is related in several forms but always has the same general plot. The version here given was secured during the summer of 1903 during my stay on the Silverheels’ farm, and was related by George D. Jimerson, comments being made by Fred Kennedy, a half-blood, and Peter Snyder. As auditors who nodded their approval we had Gahweh Seneca and Fred Pierce.

As here recorded this bit of Seneca fiction is an example of a folk tale taken down in note form and rewritten in the language of the transcriber. It is not an exact translation by any means. It does give, however, all the essential ideas conveyed by the narrators. The plot is followed exactly in all the peculiar turns and in some cases we have used the same expressions of the story tellers who gave the tale.

The plot is a love theme in which a hero is thwarted by a jealous uncle. Magic plays its usual part but magic is employed by the hero to bring about his own recovery in due time. The heroine’s mother turns out to be in league with the villain, and after the villain’s exposure the hero is compelled to perform certain tasks thought to be impossible. He succeeds and the evil woman stands revealed an odious witch.

When I had written out this tale substantially as here presented I read it to Edward Cornplanter. He criticized it by saying that I had received it from Christian Indians who had given locations not in the original tale and that my informants had tried to explain too much. “It is all right, though,” he said. “I do not object at all because white folks will understand it better the way you have it. Only one big mistake you have made. Now, when Two Feathers went away from that big bark house where the girl lived he made up his mind to take the girl with him to his own village. So, he grabbed her and jumped up through the smoke hole. He had his snowshoes hidden on the roof. He put on his snowshoes, grabbed the girl around the waist and then slid down the slippery roof. He was magic and sailed away right in the air for a mile and then came down on the snow as nice as you please. It was great to see it.

“Now, soon, Woodchuck Leggings missed the girl. All the time he still wants her, which makes his own woman mad. So Woodchuck Leggings tried to jump up through the roof hole but fell back in the fire and burned himself. So he climbed up on the roof with his snowshoes to sail away after Two Feathers. He started down the slippery, icy roof and went fine,—until he came to the edge of the roof. Then he fell head first in a big drift and the only thing anyone could see was a pair of snowshoes on the level with the top of the drift. This made the whole village laugh with a big roar. His wife was madder than ever for she had to dig him out, and I hate to tell you what she did to him when she got him alone. This is the best of the story.”