59. THE BOY AND THE NIA’´GWAHE.
The Five Nations had waged a war with the Snake People who lived in caves (the Cherokee). The Five Nations became exhausted. Both began to see that the cause was not worth such a loss of life, and so a treaty of peace was made. Each party promised to send warriors, women and families to settle with the other, and thus, by mutual adoptions and inter-marriage weave a bond of friendship.
The day arrived for the mutual emigrations, and patiently the Five Nations awaited the coming of their visitors, but none came, nor could news be obtained of their own party. A messenger was dispatched but he never returned. More were sent but, likewise, they never came back to report. At last the chiefs called a council to devise means to get to the land of their former enemies and learn how the party and the messengers had fared. A new messenger was chosen from the bravest of the warriors and a short distance behind a watcher followed. For two days all was well, but on the third the watcher looking ahead on the trail saw the messenger crawling laboriously along. Running toward him he found him wounded, stripped of all clothing and bleeding from tusk wounds and heavy bruises.
Niā’´gwahē!” whispered the man hoarsely, and fell dead.
The runner dashed down the trail crying, “Gowĕ´! Gowĕ´!”
A council was hastily called and the fate of the messenger discussed.
“Agē! So it is Niā’´gwahē who has been destroying our people and not our allies,” said the chief. “Truly now, some one must be found who is able and willing to destroy the evil. A brave one must he be for he will battle with the most powerful of all beast magic. He who grasps this white wampum belt shall be the chosen man and he shall have the belt ‘on his body’.”
The chief circled the council, holding the belt before every man but no one moved or lifted a hand.
“What!” said the chief, “are real men cowards! Has no one a heart and mind and arm strong enough to take this belt!”
Standing in the doorway of the council house was a boy, awkward in figure and uneven of feature. His parents were dead and his home was with his grandparents. He was accounted of a lowly family and as of foolish mind. The chief wished to make a laugh to break the seriousness of the situation and so called out, “Why not try Tedo‘!” The chief did not smile although the entire assembly laughed, but holding the beautiful belt out to the boy said, “Are you Oñgwĕhoweh?”
The boy grasped the belt and threw it over his shoulder.
“Do you know what you have done?” asked the chief solemnly.
The boy nodded his head and clasping the wampum ran from the council to his grandmother’s lodge.
“Oh grandmother!” he cried, “I have taken the belt to kill the nīa’´gwahē, he who blocks trail to our new ‘friend’.”
“What, you!” exclaimed the grandmother. “Why you are nothing but a ragged simpleton!”
“Well hurry then, and prepare my owĭs´hä,” said the boy, “for I am to kill nīa’´gwahē and need food for my journey.”
The old woman pounded the parched corn and mixed it with maple sugar.
“Now be off,” she said, “you and your dog!”
The boy started down the path talking to his dog. “I will not yield, I will demand yielding,” he said. “I will not be pursued, I will pursue, I will not see failure, I will succeed.”
For two days he journeyed down the trail that led to the allies’ country. At dawn on the third day there was a wild trampling in the forest and from the thicket rushed the nī’´gwahē. The dog rushed forward with a yelp but the great beast merely opened his jaws and drew in a breath and with it the dog flew down his throat.
Picking up a stump, the boy dashed forward, yelling, “I am after you, you cannot escape me!”
Now it happens that these words are the very ones used by a nīa’´gwahē when it pursues its prey, and such a charm have these words, that, as the beast repeats them, animals and men become weak and fall down as victims of the creature’s cunning. When this nīa’´gwahē heard its own cry flung back in its face, it was surprised. Its own words were turned into its own ears. Then the great beast turned and fled.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the boy, “you cannot escape me!”
All day the nīa’´gwahē fled from the boy who pursued it crying shriller and sharper, “I am after you, you cannot escape me!”
The sun began to set and the boy sat down on a log to eat his owĭs´hä with a little water, but when he opened his pouch he found his food a mass of wriggling maggots.
“Agē!” he exclaimed, “this does not discourage me,” and leaping from his seat, he took up the chase again, following closely upon the heels of the nīa’´gwahē. “Oho’!” he cried, “You are the one for whom I am looking! Very soon I will kill you.”
The sun went under the hills and the black night came.
“Agē, I am tired now, nīa’´gwahē, and must rest,” he said, “but I will kill you as soon as I get time.”
The beast trembled and ran on a short distance in the vain hope of escape but returning put his nose to the boy’s ear.
“Kwē!” he whispered, “Are you asleep?”
“No, not yet,” replied the boy with a yawn.
“Well then,” continued the beast, “I wish to tell you that I know I am defeated, but oh spare me, I beg of you, spare me! Have mercy and do not kill and I will flee from the land of men and hide in the icy north, never more to disturb or devour men.”
“Ho ho! this is your trick,” laughed the boy, with a sneer. “No mercy for you, you deserve only death. Hold up your foot and show me the spot!”
“Oh no, no, no,” begged the nīa’´gwahē plaintively. “Let me live and as a pledge of my truthfulness I will give you my teeth.”
The boy debated with himself and then asked, “What profit are teeth?”
“My teeth are my magic,” answered the creature, “and my magic is his who holds my teeth.”
“Well now,” said the boy slowly, “if your teeth will bring fortune to men I will accept them, but if ever you visit again the haunts of men, remember that I am the mightiest of wizards!”
With many groans the beast shed his teeth, crying, “All my magic strength and power are his who holds these teeth.”
The boy threw them in his pouch and bade the monster depart forever. The boy rested for some time and then ran with all speed to the land of the allies. He called a council and told his story.
“We thought your nation had destroyed our people whom we sent to you,” said the chief of the allies at the close of the boy’s speech.
“We also thought the same of you,” answered the boy.
The boy departed for his own village and held a great council, telling all he had seen, heard and done. The people were astonished beyond measure and cried, “Oh, tell us how you became powerful! What are your charm medicines?”
“This,” said the boy, “I grasped the white belt, I went and would not be pursued, neither would I fear.”
“But all thought you a fool,” said the people.
“Perhaps I am,” answered the boy, “if silence and observation mean I am only dull. But I only thought I would hold my mouth until my ears filled up.”
Then all the people shouted and called him a great chief.
Thus were the nations saved, so was the trail established and so was the nīa’´gwahē slain.
Now this is true and medicine men (Hotci´no’gä) have the teeth to this day and use them for magic.
X.
TRADITIONS
EMILY TALLCHIEF.
An informant on traditions and a leader among the Christian Seneca. Mrs. Tallchief was the great grand-daughter of the famous Chief Cornplanter. She was a member of the Wolf Clan.
Photo by E. C. Winnegar.