24. CORN RAINS INTO EMPTY BARRELS.
At one time there was nothing to eat on all the earth. Nearly all the people had starved to death, and a few that remained gathered together on a high hill. They lived on boiled bark.
There was a certain young man who kept saying all the time, “It will be better after a while.” Nobody believed him because things were getting worse each day. His brother used to torture him with sharp stones and say harsh things to him. The young man, however, kept thinking that something would happen soon. After a while he heard footsteps, as if on a clean path. He listened for the span of a moon and then heard them running. He told the people but nobody believed him.
One morning while he sat in the doorway of his lodge with his head down on his knees, a young woman stood before him. He heard her breathe and looked up. She smiled and handed him a basket of bread. “My mother sent me to this lodge to find a young man,” she said. “My mother wants me to marry him.”
The people came out of the lodge and looked at the young woman and the young man’s mother asked from whence she had come. “I have come from the far south,” answered the girl. “There is plenty of food there.”
So the young man ate the bread and was married to the young woman from the south.
Then the young wife said, “My mother sent me to bring food to you. Let everybody take off the tops of their corn barrels and then enter the lodge and cover their faces.”
The sun had now come up and it was hot. The people did not like their faces covered, but soon they heard a sound like corn falling into their barrels. After a time the noise ceased and the young wife said, “It is finished now.”
Out into the shed went the people of the lodge and found the barrels full of shelled corn. Everybody ate and all were satisfied, except the younger brother, who threw his food into the fire and said he wanted game. Now the young wife had cooked the corn the young man threw away, and she was made sad by his action. So she said, “My husband, go to the river and get fish enough for the people.” But the younger brother said, “It is foolish to go to the river, for fish have deserted the river. There are none.” Nevertheless, the young husband went to the river and drew out enough fish for all the people. The younger brother was very angry.
The next day the husband went hunting and while he was absent the younger brother began to torment the young wife. “Your food is not good,” he said. “I cast your food away,” and again he threw food into the fire.
When the husband returned he found his wife crying and when he asked her what was troubling her she said, “Your younger brother has spoiled everything. He has rejected my food (speaking thereby the dissatisfaction of all the people). I shall now return to my home.”
The husband was very sad and begged her not to go, but his wife told him that her mother instructed her to return if she were abused. During the following night there was a sound of scraping in the corn barrels and in the morning when the women went for their corn it was all gone, and with it the bride had vanished.
After consultation the husband determined to search for his wife, and thus he set out on a long journey. At length he came to a region of great corn fields and after a while saw a high mound covered with corn plants. On this mound he found his wife and her mother. His wife showed him her body and it was burned and scarred. “This is what your brother did to me,” she said, “when he threw the corn into the fire. He would have killed me had I remained.”
After living in the south for several months the couple returned and found the people again starving. The young wife ordered them to open their corn barrels and hide their faces once again. They did so and shelled corn fell like rain into the barrels filling them to the top.
Then the young wife told the people that corn must never be wasted or thrown away for it is food and if destroyed will cause the crops to be poor and the corn to cease to yield.
25. TWENTGOWA AND THE MISCHIEF MAKER.[[34]]
There was once a very lazy man named Twentgowa. He had a wife and several children. Twentgowa was always giving excuses to his wife as to why he did not hunt game more often like other men.
Twentgowa often went into the deep woods and had a mossy rock near a river where he would lie and dream of the things he would like to do and how he would kill big game animals if he only had a chance. More and more often he repaired to his favorite spot as his wife scolded him for not bringing home game.
One evening a man came to the lodge where Twentgowa lived. He stood in the doorway and said: “I am your friend. I have visited you before but this is the first time you have seen me. I have known your name for a long time. Now you must come often and see me. I have good things in my place of abode and there is plenty to eat and much game hanging on my rafters.” Then he walked away.
Twentgowa did not know where his friend lived but thought he might find him some day. Now on the next day there was nothing to eat in the house, save a few pieces of corn bread, and the wife scolded Twentgowa saying: “Oh you who are always squatting like a duck on a nest, you shall not eat but this food shall be for our children. Begone, and if you have a friend perhaps he will receive you.” So that is what she said.
The lazy man arose from his bed and went out of the house. “I will now go and seek my friend,” he thought to himself. He went directly to the mossy spot on the rock where he customarily sought refuge and when he arrived there he found his bed very thick with moss, making it a fine spot upon which to recline. When he had lain there a short time he looked up and saw a large bark house, with very fine poles as supports and over the door a head of some animal he could not identify.
He arose and with caution walked toward the door of the house and when he stood before it he saw his friend.
“My friend,” said he, “I did not know this house was here. I never saw it before.”
“Come in,” said his friend, “This is where I live. Oh this house has here stood for many years and I am greatly surprised that you have not seen it. Now it is time to eat. Be seated here on a mat and let us eat together. The first thing we must eat is os‘howä, a pudding.”
Thereupon the friend went to an upper shelf and took down a bowl into which he placed a loathly mess of substance that had the odor of a fish a long time dead. “Djiskwengo,” exclaimed the friend, and the bowl filled up with steaming pudding of most enticing odor.
So the two friends ate the food and relished it greatly. Oh, it was far better than any food that Twentgowa had ever eaten. “It is so delicious,” said he, “that I would like to take some home to my family. I would like to borrow a cooking pot to contain it.”
“My friend, there is no need of that,” said the householder. “I will give you power to do as I have done. You have only to follow my directions and you will have great power to produce delicious food for your family.”
So Twentgowa stood at the back of the lodge and his friend threw the pot of food into him right through the wall of his abdomen. It vanished through magic and power was within Twentgowa.
Twentgowa now said he was about to return to his home and he started out on his journey which seemed very much longer than ever before, as if the path had stretched. He kept thinking of his newly acquired power and thought it might be well to test it. So he sat down on a log and used his magical word, “Odjiskwagoh.” As he did this a great pile of steaming pumpkin pudding formed on the ground. “Oh my!” exclaimed Twentgowa. “Power within me is; now I shall eat forever.” He was now satisfied that he had a great friend.
Running home he entered his lodge and told his story. He told of his feasting on pumpkin pudding and of the power he had to make it by magic. So he took a jar from the top platform of his lodge and in the manner directed filled it. He placed in it the loathly substance like unto a dead fish and then conjured it until it overflowed into the large bark dish in which the jar was placed. “Ah now,” said Twentgowa, “we shall have a feast. Oh, it is so appetizing!”
His wife was very angry and would not touch the food but scolded him, for instead of real food all that was produced was a terrible mess that drove her and the children out of the house. She threw stones into the lodge and called him out, for he was dancing inside.
So the people saw that Twentgowa had lied and could not make food by unnatural means, but made that which was evil. And his wife scolded him and said: “Do not go to the lodge of that man any longer. He is none other than S‘hodie´onskon’, whom we know as a mischief maker. He will make your mind abnormal and what is bad he will make you think is good. If you persist in visiting him you will suffer and great calamity will befall us all.”
Twentgowa was greatly downcast and wondered why he had failed before the people. He determined to go and see his friend again and seek an explanation. So he went as before. “My friend, I was just thinking of you,” said his friend when he entered the lodge. “Come we will now eat together. This time we will have the whole pumpkin. Oh it is most delicious.”
So when he had said this he sat down on a long bench and laid his war club against his thighs and it became as if alive. It lay upon the bench and it had a round head which was very large. Then the friend said: “Pumpkin come forth. Thou art concealed within the head of my warclub. Burst forth!”
So saying he struck the head of his war club with a long handled maul. Immediately a pumpkin rolled forth from the head of his war club. So they cooked it and ate it. Twentgowa found it most delicious and was continually saying, “Oga’´on’! Oga’´on! This is so delicious,” said he, “that I would be most happy to have the power to do the same as you have done, for in this manner I could feed my family.”
“I will give you power to so produce twice,” said the friend, “but further you must not try for it is not good to always eat pumpkins alone. Now I am ready. Stand, swing your war club until it comes ‘whack’ against the head of my club. If you can hit mine there will be power within you.”
So Twentgowa swung his war club about, spinning on his heel until he came, “sqŭŭh” against his friend’s club and it made a great whack that nearly broke Twentgowa in twain.
“Now,” said Twentgowa, “I will try my power,” so he hit his club with a maul and a pumpkin rolled forth. “Now I must go home and make pumpkins,” he said. “Now I go.”
On his way through the forest he began to wonder if indeed he had power. He thought that by some chance power was within him only so long as he was in the presence of his friend and that his friend had fooled him by magic to make mischief after the fashion of S‘hodienskon’. Thereupon he sat astride a log and laid his war club before him, its round head being at the further end of the log. Then he grasped a stick and reached over and struck the head of the war club. It was as his friend had said, for a pumpkin rolled forth. He did not want to carry the pumpkin home so he made a fire and cooked it. Oh it was a delicious pumpkin and he kept continually saying “Oga’´on’.” Then he went home.
He went in his lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend this time has given me good power. I will make pumpkins for you. Get my stake maul with which I am accustomed to drive in the long stakes of the house. Now I seat myself upon this bench and lay my war club before me. This is the right way to proceed. Now I whack my war club with the maul.” So saying he hit at the head of his club, but in so doing he lifted up his foot upon the bench and whacked his big toe. It was a terrible and resounding whack, but no pumpkin rolled forth. Instead, Twentgowa fell off the bench like a dead man. He gave one dismal long-drawn-out howl and fainted.
It was a long time before he recovered and when he did he was very sore and limped when he walked. He could not hunt and when his wife scolded him for a lazy man, he sneaked away again and went to the lodge of his friend.
Arriving at the lodge he limped in. “Oh my friend,” said the house holder, “I have been awaiting you; come, let us go after fish.” So saying he went out and strode down to the creek where he removed his leggings. He took out his knife and passed it through his lips, moistening it. Then he began to whittle the meat off his shins so that the bone stood out sharp like a long knife. “Now, my friend,” said he, “I will wade swiftly through the water and strike the fishes before they can move to one side. They will die and float to the top of the water and I will pick them up. After a while we will have enough for a good repast.” He then waded in the water very swiftly and soon many fishes were upon the water which he picked up and flung over his shoulder into a basket. Coming ashore he put down his basket and then began to moisten his shins with salivary fluid. They quickly were restored and did not bleed at any time. Thus they made a fire and feasted on fish. Oh it was very delicious and Twentgowa kept saying, “Oga’´on’.”
“Now, furthermore,” he said, “I would like to have this power of catching fish for if I possessed it I might obtain food for my family.”
“You shall possess this power,” said his friend, “and when I touch your shins with my tongue you shall have power to twice perform this act of obtaining fish.” And it was done.
So Twentgowa tried his new power and caught many fish which he left with his friend. Then he said, “I must go now, I am going home.” Then he started home and on the way through the woods came to a stream that looked as if it had no fish in it so that he said, “I will now test my power in order that I may not be laughed at derisively.” So he whittled his shins and waded in the water, and it was as predicted,—fish floated upon the surface and when he had eaten them he went on his way.
He went in his lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend has given me new power. I will now go and catch fish for you but you must not mind if they have cuts in them. It is my manner of catching fish.” So saying he went to a creek and taking off his leggings whittled his shins. As he cut the flesh blood flowed out and he was in great pain. He tried again and fell down bleeding. He bled very much and began to howl. For a long time he bled until he fainted again.
As night began to draw nigh his wife missed him and went out looking for him along the stream. Soon she saw a red trickle in the creek and going toward it saw her husband bleeding from cuts in his shins. She dragged him to the lodge and then called upon her dog to go and fetch S‘hondie´onskon’, the magical friend, to come and heal the husband. The dog went and soon the friend returned. When Twentgowa returned to his mind he scolded his friend, but his friend applied salivary fluid to the wounds and they healed. Then said the friend, “I gave you power twice, but further than that I did not give you. You have cheated and wasted your power. I shall go now. Come to see me again.”
Then did his wife scold Twentgowa and said, “You must cease your visits to the evil mischief maker. He is only a maker of trouble and you have never profited by his tricks. If you would get busy like a man and hunt like a man you would have food. You are no good, but a bad, lazy man. I forbid you to associate with anyone, not even the dog.”
Now when Twentgowa thought about the matter he decided to go once more to his friend and procure power for obtaining food. So he went away by stealth and sought his friend. When he had come to the bark house he found his friend in the doorway.
“I have been waiting for you,” said his friend. “I am all ready to go hunting. Come now, I am ready.” He then took a skein of twisted elm bark cords each about as long as a man’s arm. With these he went to a lake to which Twentgowa followed him. “Where are your arrows?” asked Twentgowa. And his friend replied, “Oh you will never understand my ways. I hunt underwater with strings. I am now going down into the water and hunt ducks.”
Away out on the lake were ducks swimming and soon one duck after another disappeared. When all had vanished, after the manner of ducks diving and not returning to the surface, the friend returned to the shore with a large bundle of ducks tied by the feet with the elm bark cord. “Now we may eat,” said he. So they ate duck and Twentgowa kept saying, “Ogao.” Moreover he said, “Oh I would like this power of catching ducks for if I possess it I might feed my family.”
“You shall have this power,” said his friend, “but only twice may you try it. I have only to hit your nose with a fish bladder I have held in my mouth and to lick your bark cords with my tongue.” So he did the necessary thing, touching Twentgowa’s nose with a fish’s air-bladder and biting a bundle of cords. Twentgowa was delighted and danced down to the water, into it and under it. Soon he returned with two ducks.
Then he said, “Now I must go home. Now I go.” So saying he started homeward, and on his way came to a big pond in which he saw ducks swimming. “I will now use my power,” he said and immediately went into the water, returning with the ducks. Thereupon he threw the ducks away and went home.
Again he went into the lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend has given me power this time and I shall bring you many ducks.” So then he went into the woods where there was a lake.
Into the lake he went for he saw upon its surface a great flock of ducks swimming closely together. He had trouble this time but as all the ducks were together he tied several together and then poked one of them to scare it.
Upward flew the ducks with such impetus that Twentgowa was drawn up into the air and over the forest. When the ducks had flown a short way the string which he was holding broke and down he fell and into the top of an enormous hollow stub. He stood there stunned until he heard a noise outside. He peeped through a knot-hole and saw a damsel gathering wood. He made a squeaking noise to frighten her and she ran up to the tree and looked into the knot-hole. She saw his head against the hole and immediately thought that there was a bear inside. So Twentgowa rapped on the inside of the tree and it resounded like a drum. Twentgowa then sang “Djii-ha-ha, djii-ha-ha!” many times, and the damsel danced.
After a while she went home and told her sisters that there was a bear tree near by and that a bear within it sang and drummed. So they all went to the bear tree and said, “Oh Bear, make a song for us. We wish to dance.” Again Twentgowa sang and they all danced. He found that he could not stop singing, though he was tired, and the damsels found that they could not stop dancing. After a while a man came and stood near them. “There is a bear inside this tree and we are dancing, come dance,” they called out to him. He was smiling and after a while began to laugh. “I’ll show you what kind of a bear is inside,” he said. Then the singing and dancing ceased. He took an axe and chopped down the tree. Where he made the first hole black shaggy hair showed through. It looked like a bear. He kept on chopping and after a time the stub fell over and there inside was a man with his clothes torn off. He had on only his loin-cloth. The damsels ran in fright.
In their place stood the wife and she was very angry. She scolded him for making the damsels dance and for singing so long for them. She scolded him for going to the mischief maker’s house and threatened him if he ever went again. Oh, she gave him a terrible scolding and it made him frightened.
Then the friend came out of the bushes where he was hiding and he said, “Now you two who are married, I will speak to you. Twentgowa must not go to the woods any more to the spot where he has been accustomed to recline. He may not come to my house any more. Henceforth he must hunt like other men.”
Then his wife said to Twentgowa, “Come along home and be a man like other men. You never will be a magician for you haven’t the sense to be one. You must be through with all wizardry.”
Twentgowa went home and was a changed man. He never went to the house of the mischief maker again. He became like other men and hunted for his family.
GENERAL NOTES.—This tale of Twentgowa (Big Duck) and the Mischief Maker is related as a humorous story. It is a consistent Seneca folk-tale and contains the customary magical elements.
It relates the adventures of a lazy man who would not hunt, and before whom appeared his “unseen friend,” the “Mischief Maker.” Twentgowa goes to the lodge of Mischief Maker and learns how to produce food by magic. The fact that he is told that he can do it but twice does not impress him. He receives the orenda, or magical ability and immediately demonstrates his power to “the friend.” Departing for his own home he grows skeptical and tries again in the woods. Succeeding, he returns home rejoicing and bragging of his power. When he attempts to demonstrate it, however, he makes a miserable failure and is driven out of the lodge. Again he returns to his friend and obtains magic for another episode, but repeats the experiments and in a final attempt fails. We are reminded, through Twentgowa’s experiences, of the man who said he frequently thought he had very funny jokes to relate until he told them to his wife, when he saw how flat they were. Just so, Twentgowa could never satisfy his wife that he possessed any magic.
The various episodes here given are without doubt only a few of the many that the story teller might have given. The final escapade, however, is the one that cured our hero, and the Mischief Maker relents.