137. The Legend of Doädanegeñ and Hotkwisdadegeña
(TWO FEATHERS TOGETHER AND THE TORTURED BOY)
Two male persons lived together in a lodge. The elder was named Doädanegeñ, and the younger, his nephew, was called Hotkwisdadegeña. Uncle and nephew lived by hunting, and they two dwelt in contentment, for they had meat to eat at all times. They thus spent their lives pleasantly. There were no other people dwelling in their neighborhood.
After a long time passed in this kind of life the uncle said to his nephew: “Oh, my nephew! now go yonder to that valley, where you must seat yourself and listen very intently for whatever sounds that are peculiar which you may hear. I do not know what sounds you may hear, but you shall hear something.” So Hotkwisdadegeña set out for the valley, which he was not long in reaching. Having arrived there, he seated himself and kept very quiet. He remained in this attitude for a long time.
Suddenly and without any warning an owl perched in the hollow of a near-by tree hooted Wu, wu, wu, wu-ūʻ. The youth quickly arose, saying: “This is perhaps what my uncle means,” and started on the run homeward. It was not long before he reached the lodge. Then the elder man, Doädanegeñ, his uncle, said: “What did you hear? Come, now, tell it.” “So let it be,” replied Hotkwisdadegeña. But the elder said: “Wait just a moment first. You may commence [[744]]just as soon as my tobacco begins to burn, for I want to be smoking when you relate what you have heard.” So he put tobacco in his pipe and lighted it and immediately drew in the smoke. Then he exclaimed: “Now, relate what you have heard.” “All that I heard,” said the nephew to his uncle, “was the hooting of an owl.” The uncle at once laid aside his pipe, and seizing a bark paddle he arose quickly, and dipping up a paddleful of hot coals and ashes, poured them over his nephew, who was standing not far away. The burning coals fell on the youth’s head. As he did this, the uncle said: “I do not mean that.” The nephew began to cry because of the hot coals on his head, and going to his bunk he sat down, for these two persons occupied each his own side of the fireplace. Finally he stopped his crying and said: “Very miserable, indeed, has become my state, for now my uncle has begun to mistreat me, and he has never done this thing before.” Night came on, and they lay down to sleep, the uncle and his nephew. The next morning they arose, and when they had eaten their morning meal the uncle again said to his nephew: “Come, oh, my nephew! do you again go to listen, and you must again sit in yonder valley where you sat yesterday.”
The nephew soon started, and having arrived at the valley he again sat down to listen for mysterious sounds. He listened very attentively. He was surprised in a short time to hear hard by the place where he sat the cry of some being: Tcĭkĭs, tcĭkĭskĭskĭs. This was a cry made by Tcoktcoñʹkhwĕñ. Again the youth arose with a spring and ran toward the place where stood the lodge occupied by his uncle and himself. On reaching his home the elder man, his uncle, said: “What thing is it you have heard, having just returned home? Now, please tell it.” Then his nephew, Hotkwisdadegeña, replied, “So be it; I shall tell it.” His uncle answered: “Just a little while, first. I will first fill my pipe, and just as soon as the tobacco is lighted you may tell me what you have heard.” So he filled his pipe with tobacco and lighted it, and when he had taken his pipe into his mouth, he said: “Come, now, tell me what you have heard.” Hotkwisdadegeña answered: “So let it be. All I heard were the sounds tcĭkĭskĭskĭs, tcĭkĭskĭskĭs, in whispers.” Then Doädanegeñ, the uncle, suddenly sprang up, and laying his pipe aside, seized a bark paddle and dipped up from the fire burning coals and hot ashes, which he poured on the top of his nephew’s head, who was standing near by. The nephew began to weep, and the uncle exclaimed: “That is not what I meant.” The nephew then went away to his own bunk on his side of the fire and there sat down. He stopped his crying and said: “Indeed, I am in a miserable state. Poor me! He has now overmatched my orenda.”
Night coming on, they two retired and lay down to sleep for rest. In the morning they ate their breakfast. Just as soon as they had [[745]]finished eating, the uncle said: “Oh, my nephew! go again to listen. You must again seat yourself in the valley, and you must listen with great attention.” The nephew replied, “So let it be,” and started. Having arrived in the valley where he was accustomed to sit, and there seating himself, he listened very attentively for strange sounds. Suddenly he heard a woman begin to sing in the distance. He understood clearly that it was a woman who was singing, and then saying, “I believe this is what he wants me to hear,” he started on the run for the lodge very swiftly. Having arrived there, the elder man said: “Are you returning after hearing something? Tell what you have heard.” The nephew replied: “Yes.” The uncle said, “Come, tell it!” The nephew answered: “So be it; I will tell it”; but the uncle said, “Wait a moment until I fill my pipe, so that I will be smoking while you are telling me your story.” Having lighted his pipe, he said: “Come, now, you must relate what you have heard.” The young man, Hotkwisdadegeña, answered: “So let it be as you say. The only thing that I heard was a woman singing, and in her song she used these words, ‘Haʻhowe, at the home of Doädanegeñ, haʻhowe, I am going to seek a young person, a male, haʻhowe.’ ” Then the nephew ceased talking. It so came to pass that this time the uncle did not use a bark paddle to dip up hot ashes and burning coals to pour on the head of his nephew. He did not scorch him. “It is a fact, indeed, the woman comes naming me as the object of her coming, and that is why she comes saying on the way, ‘Doädanegeñ.’ Verily, as you know, that is my name. So, now, do you go thither again to listen again for strange sounds, for she is, perhaps, now nearing this place.”
Then the nephew, Hotkwisdadegeña, returned to the valley to listen again. He found that the singing was approaching quite near to the place where he was listening. Suddenly it stopped, and the voice of a woman began to sing: “Haʻhowe, haʻhowe, haʻhowe, at the home of Doädanegeñ, haʻhowe, I go to seek the person of a young man, haʻhowe, haʻhowe.” The nephew sprang up, and turning homeward, ran back there as swiftly as it was possible for him to run. Arriving there he exclaimed: “Behold, the singing is, indeed, now close at hand, just a short distance away.”
Thereupon the uncle arose and began to clean up the lodge, sweeping all manner of dirt and filth over to the place where his nephew was accustomed to stay. Then the uncle bade the young man sit down in that place among the dirt and filth. The entire head of the nephew was covered with scabs and sores. On the other hand, the old uncle cleaned himself up as well as he could. He spread furs and skins about his couch and seat in such wise as to appear to be one who is “downfended,” one who is a noble in the family. He carefully washed his feather plumes, which had become smoked and [[746]]dusty from disuse and from lying around among his belongings. When they were nicely cleaned he preened them, and then, taking his headgear, he set these feathers, two in number, side by side in the front of it. When he had finished this task he put the headgear back in the bark case containing his various belongings. In like manner he cleaned and furbished up all his raiment and arms and ornaments.
He had hardly completed his renovations and cleaning of his belongings when suddenly they heard a woman sing not far away from the lodge. In the song the woman said: “Haʻhowe, haʻhowe, haʻhowe, I am seeking the body of a young male person, haʻhowe, haʻhowe. It is He-who-listens, He-who-listens, haʻhowe, haʻhowe.” Then the uncle said to his nephew: “Oh, my nephew! now you must keep very quiet; you must not talk nor move around.” Suddenly there came sounds at the doorway, which seemed to be the footsteps of two women. All at once the doorflap was thrust aside, and a woman stepped into the lodge followed by another woman, and there the two women stood in the lodge. One of the women said: “Behold it is not certain on which side of the fire sits Doädanegeñ. Indeed, this one who is sitting here is verily not the one. That one sitting in yonder place is, indeed, the one who is called Doädanegeñ. This one is called Hatʻhondas (i.e., He-who-listens). So, as long as you think this one is Doädanegeñ, you go to him; but I myself will go to that one.” The two sisters were not of the same opinion as to the identity of the two male persons before them. The younger desired to go to one of the men, while the other sister wished to go to the other. Now, Doädanegeñ overhearing these remarks of the two sisters, and meanly seeking to deceive them as to his own identity, kept saying: “This is the right side of the fire. Come here.”
Finally, the younger sister, who carried the marriage bread in a large basket (which women customarily carried when they went to the lodges of men to seek for husbands), going over to the place where Hatʻhondas sat, took a seat beside him. All at once the elder woman also ran in that direction and took her seat beside him. So each woman now sat on one side of him.
Then the uncle, Doädanegeñ, went over to the place where the three were sitting, and seizing the hand of his nephew, pushed the youth away across the fire, ordering him to remain there. He himself took the seat between the two maidens. But they both arose at once and went to the place where Hatʻhondas was then seated and again sat down on each side of him. Now the old man again arose, and going over to the place where the three were seated he seized the young man, his nephew, by the arm and shoved him across the fireplace to the other side of the fire, while he once more seated himself between the maidens. But as the maidens did not come to marry [[747]]him they again arose quickly and, leaving the old man, went over to the place where the young man was and sat down on each side of him.
The old man did not repeat his previous actions, but he sat silent for a long time. At last the old man, addressing his nephew, said: “Oh, my nephew! now verily you will marry. I will make the proper arrangements and will put in order the place where you are accustomed to seat yourself, because it is so very filthy and dirty, since you are foolish and do filthy things in the place where you are accustomed to abide.” But it was he himself who had swept all manner of dirt and filth over the place and on the things belonging to his young nephew and so had disgustingly soiled them. The uncle added: “For a while seat yourselves herein this place while I clean and renovate the place and things belonging to my nephew.”
Then he proceeded to clean up the things and to make them fine in appearance, for he carefully swept and dusted everything belonging to his nephew. A bearskin and a deerskin and a beaver skin he carefully spread over the couch of his nephew and caused the latter to be covered entirely with furs and skins.
The two maidens again took their seats beside him as his wives, for he indeed married them. Then the uncle said to his nephew: “Now you have married. Come, now, I do not know whether these two women have brought with them that which confirms customarily the marriage of people one to another, which usually is 20 loaves of marriage bread, commonly called by the Seneca deganăʼhoñsdiăʼgoⁿ.” One of the women, replying, said: “So let it be as you have indicated.” Taking up the basket and going over to the place where he sat, she said: “These are the things of which you are telling,” and placed the basket between his feet. He just kept his eyes on the proceedings while the woman returned to her seat. The uncle uncovered the basket of marriage bread and took from it the 20 loaves of marriage bread, saying with some warmth: “The matter has been fulfilled, for she has given me the marriage bread, which has confirmed the matter. It certainly has been fulfilled according to the custom of marrying.”
Now the head of Hatʻhondas, his nephew, was literally covered with sores and scabs, so the uncle said to him: “Oh, my nephew! come hither. Come!” The nephew went over to where his uncle was sitting, whereupon the old man said: “I am going to attend to you for the purpose of dressing you and cleaning you.” Near at hand hung the bladder of a bear, in which there was a quantity of sunflower oil, or butter. Out of this receptacle he took a quantity of the sunflower oil, or butter, in the palm of his hand and anointed the head of his nephew with it. He repeated this act until he had completely saturated the hair with the sunflower oil. Further, he poured three handfuls of the sunflower oil on his nephew’s head. The two young women, who merely looked on, only marveled at what they saw. All [[748]]at once they saw the uncle remove a cap of scabs from the head of his nephew. No more scabs were left on his head, which now looked clean and handsome.
It happened that on the young man’s forehead two feathers stuck out, which were set side by side, one red and the other blue. These, which were set side by side, were about so long [indicating with the hand]. The old man said to his nephew: “This ornamentation is very unbecoming”; so he pulled first the one feather and then the other. Then he said: “This is fine. Go over to that place, and there you must stand, facing this way. I will look at you, for I do not know how handsome you are.” The young man went to the place indicated and faced his uncle. The latter eyed him carefully and critically as he stood there under review. Suddenly the old man said: “Come hither. Come back here again. I am not at all satisfied.” When the nephew had come up to him the uncle again poured sunflower oil into the palm of his hand, with which he carefully anointed the face of his nephew. Then he said: “Again go to that place and face me again.” The nephew again went there and faced his uncle. Once more the old man critically eyed his nephew, finally exclaiming, “You are such a fine-looking young man that there is nowhere living another young man as handsome. Now come to me. This is what you shall be named: Doädanegeñ you shall be called; and in all the distant places where people dwell the sound has gone, saying of you, ‘He is the great hunter of all kinds of animals.’ Your name is one which is obeyed, and which is heard in distant places of the land. Again take your seat in yonder place.” So the nephew resumed his seat.
Then one of the two women, the elder, said: “I am exceedingly thankful that our husband is so fine-looking a man.” To this the younger answered: “As to me, I will cherish him. I myself will love him. I will do only whatever it may be that he sees fit to ask me to do.” When night came on they lay down to sleep, the young man lying down between the two women, so that Hatʻhondas had a wife on each side. It now came to pass that the elder one could not fall asleep. Hatʻhondas, however, was fast asleep, and she most of the time kept looking at him as he lay asleep. As to the other wife, she was sound asleep, indeed. Daylight came, and the elder one had not slept at all during the entire night. Then the two sisters set to work preparing their morning meal. So, as soon as the food was cooked they began to eat it; and they took up a share for the old man, who sat on the opposite side of the fire. They themselves ate together on their own side of the fire—Doädanegeñ and his wives.
When all had finished eating the old man said: “Oh, my nephew! you must begin to travel over the earth. You must be very circumspect and careful because there are traveling about many kinds of [[749]]beings which are full of the highest potency of evil orenda. You must go out to hunt for any kind of game animals, it may be. It is possible for you to kill them, it is true, for you are not susceptible to the influence of evil orenda.” So the nephew started out to hunt. He remarked to himself: “I wonder whether what my uncle said is true, indeed. I will begin with raccoons.”
As he went along he saw a standing tree greatly scarred with claw marks. Climbing this tree he found a nest of raccoons. From this he pulled out a raccoon, which he threw down; then taking out another raccoon he threw it also to the ground, and then another and another. Finally he said: “I do think these will do.” He now descended from the tree, and when he reached the ground he said: “I am, perhaps, strong enough to carry these bodies home on my back by means of the forehead strap.” So he set to work packing the bodies into a bundle, by laying down his forehead strap and placing the bodies of the raccoons on it and then binding the ends of the strap around them in such manner as to make a closely bound bundle. When he had completed this task he took up the pack and placed it on his back in such wise that he carried it by means of the forehead strap, as was the custom at that time. Then he started for home. With the bundle on his back he reached his home. Casting the bundle down indoors, he said: “Oh, my uncle! dress these, if you will.”
Then, truly, the old man set to work dressing the raccoons, exclaiming: “Hōʹ, my nephew! All has happened for good. Ever since you were small I have been attending to you. As you were growing up I took care of you and I pitied you. Now, in turn, you have grown to manhood. So it is, I have been accustomed to think that this would come to pass. Now these bodies lie here as a fulfillment of my hopes; so I am very thankful.”
Then the old man skinned the raccoons, and when he had completed his task he said, delightedly: “With these skins I will make for myself a robe. You must go to hunt again. These things are to be cooked in only one way; they must be cooked by being boiled down.” He told this to the two wives of his nephew, asking them whether that was not the right way of cooking raccoons. Then the two women, arising, proceeded to dress the raccoons. When they had dressed them they set the kettle over the fire and started the raccoon meat to cooking. When it was cooked it was indeed boiled down in the manner suggested by the old man. Then the two women placed the meat on bark trays, and all began to eat. The old man kept on saying: “Hōʹ, I am thankful, thankful, thankful.”
The next morning Doädanegeñ again went forth to hunt. As he traveled through the forest he finally came to a tree all over the outside of which he saw many claw marks. Hence he decided to climb [[750]]it to see whether there was any game in the hollow of the trunk. As on the former trip, he found raccoons in the hollow of the tree, which he proceeded to drag out. He would put his arm into the hollow of the rotten old tree, drag out a raccoon, and throw it to the ground, repeating this process until he had thus dragged forth six or seven raccoons. Then exclaiming “I believe that I have now killed a sufficient number,” he again descended the tree to the ground. Again he laid out his forehead strap, whereon he placed the bodies of the raccoons which he had killed. They made a large load. He bound the bodies into a bundle ready to carry. Placing this on his back so that he could carry it by means of his forehead strap, he again started for the lodge of his family. Having returned home, he laid his pack down indoors, before the place where sat his uncle, who could only exclaim: “Hōʹ! I am so thankful; hōʹ! I am so thankful. Perhaps, now, I can complete my robe with these eight skins.” Then the old man skinned them, and when he had completed this task he proceeded to stretch and dry the skins in the usual manner on frames of wooden sticks. As soon as they were dried he made himself a robe, which was very beautiful when he had completed it. So it came to pass that he had a raccoon-skin robe with which to cover himself.
Continually, indeed, did the two women cook and prepare food for the family, and all lived in the greatest contentment. It came to pass that the elder sister said to the younger: “Let us go to fetch wood, for it is the custom for those who are living in their husband’s lodge to gather wood.” They two then went forth from the lodge toward the neighboring forest. There they saw a standing tree which appeared to be fit for their purpose. The elder carried with her a round, hard, white stone, which she struck against the tree, making a sound which was heard everywhere, and the tree fell into a heap of firewood. The two women proceeded to make themselves loads by laying together the strips of wood. They placed thus in two heaps the whole of that great tree. When they had finished their packs, placing them on their backs, they started for home. When they reached the doorway they separated, and standing on opposite sides of the lodge, they untied their forehead straps, whereupon their packs fell to the ground, growing into such great heaps that the lodge was quite surrounded with firewood. Then the two reentered the lodge, and the elder said: “One who is in the lodge of her husband’s family is customarily expert in preparing wood.” This she said to the old man, the uncle of her husband. The old man replied: “Hōʹ! I am very thankful.”
At this time some women who lived in a distant place learned that Doädanegeñ had grown to manhood. There were four persons in this family of women—a mother and her three daughters. [[751]]The mother, addressing her daughters, said: “Now, my children, you must go after him to secure him for a husband. And you, the eldest, shall be the first to go in quest of him.” Then the three daughters commenced to make the marriage bread (deganahoñdyăʼgoⁿ). They began their task by preparing the flour corn by boiling in ashes to loosen the husk of the grains, afterwards washing the grains in clean water and pounding the corn into meal in a wooden mortar with pestles of wood. The three sisters united their labors in the preparation of this bread. The sounds made by the pestles were tuʻ, tuʻ, tuʻ, tuʻ, tuʻ. It was not long before they had prepared the needed 20 cakes of marriage bread.
When the bread was ready it was placed in a basket made for carrying by means of the forehead strap. Then the mother said to the eldest daughter: “Come to me.” The daughter obeyed her, and the mother began to comb her hair; she also anointed it with oil of a fine smell. Then she braided her hair, tying it so close with a string that the eyebrows were drawn up to the extent that the eye-sockets had quite disappeared. Then the mother said to her daughter affectionately: “Now, go you to that distant place where Doädanegeñ moves, and I expect that by all means you will bring him back with you. Have courage. Very certainly it is safe, that by which you shall cross this lake.” Then she placed the basket of bread on her daughter’s back so that it might be carried by means of the forehead strap.
Thereupon the eldest daughter started away. Having indeed arrived at the settlement in which dwelt Doädanegeñ, she took position a long distance from his lodge and watched for him a very long time, but was not able to see him. Suddenly, Doädanegeñ came out of his lodge and looked around. The young woman was just a short distance aside, watching him. Then he started on his hunting trip, for he had not detected the presence of the young woman. She kept her eyes on him as he walked away and finally disappeared in the distance. Swiftly now the young woman pursued him with the determination of finding him. She had followed him a very long distance when suddenly, as she kept looking ahead, she saw him climbing a large tree. Going toward that tree undetected, not far from it she stopped still. The raccoons were coming out one after another with great rapidity and verily there was a high pile of bodies. The maiden stood there watching Doädanegeñ at work. Moving up close to the tree, she exclaimed: “Do you come down again from the tree. Perhaps you are now bringing down the last one.” But all at once a yellow hammer cried out Kwĕⁿʻ, kwĕⁿʻ, kwĕⁿʻ, and she saw it flying along the edge of the forest, crying as it flew. In bitter chagrin the maid exclaimed: “Oh, how provoking [[752]]it is! Doädanegeñ has made me angry,” and taking from her back the basket of marriage bread, consisting of 20 cakes, she emptied the basket to one side of her and then started homeward.
Having reached her home, where her sisters and her mother awaited her, she was asked by the latter: “Well, what has happened so serious that you have returned without bringing him?” The young woman replied: “I have not the ability to do anything with him, because, I think, he is immune from my orenda—he is, indeed, immune to enchantment.” The mother answered: “Truly I do not depend on you because you are so incapable, so weak (in orenda). So now my youngest daughter shall go, for truly I do depend on her so much. Now, then, do you prepare the basket of marriage bread, which must consist of 20 cakes.”
With a cry of “Come, now,” they set to work pounding the corn into meal, and after making the meal into 20 cakes they boiled them, and when they were cooked they placed them in a basket suitable for the purpose. Then her mother set to work dressing the hair of her youngest daughter; she oiled it with fine bear’s grease and braided it into many fine braids. She braided it very close and wrapped the braids so tight that the maiden seemed not to have any eyebrows left. When the mother had finished the task of dressing her daughter and had instructed her as to what she should do to insure success on her way, the basket of marriage bread was placed on the young woman’s back. Finally her mother said to her: “Have courage. You certainly are able to conquer him. I depend on you to bring Doädanegeñ back with you.”
Then the young woman started on her journey. She carried the basket on her back by means of the forehead strap. Finally she reached the settlement to which she had been sent. There, not far away from the lodge of her intended victim, she concealed herself in various places the better to keep a watch on the lodge. She hid from place to place for a long time without seeing her victim. But finally she was surprised to see him come out of the lodge and after looking around very carefully start away. She tracked him, and after pursuing him for a long time she saw him in the distance high up in a tall tree. She concealed her presence from him as best she knew how. She would get behind a tree and move nearer the tree on which her victim was. Then, slipping quickly around another, she kept drawing nearer and nearer to him, for she was determined to conquer him. Finally she reached the tree without being perceived and there she sat down, leaning against the tree. She placed there beside her the basket of marriage bread. She saw the raccoons falling down one after another without interruption. For a long time she remained there very quiet. Meanwhile Doädanegeñ looked around suspiciously, first taking in the entire horizon and then the [[753]]ground below; then he descended the tree very slowly, until finally he reached the ground on the side opposite the spot where the young woman was sitting. At this time the maiden, quickly arising, went swiftly around the tree to the place where Doädanegeñ stood. He could do nothing to escape. He looked at her with a smile of defeat and was astonished to see how beautiful the maiden was. She was, indeed, far prettier than his wives were, although they, too, were fine looking. Then the victorious maiden said to him: “Rest yourself. Perhaps you are tired, for you have been continually climbing high up in the trees. You must sit down and rest your head in my lap, and I will dress your hair. You must face me when you sit in front of me.”
So Doädanegeñ took the seat indicated by the young woman, placing his head in her lap. She removed the vermin and snarls from his hair, being at this task a long time. So, indeed, the young man fell asleep, and, perhaps, she caused him to sleep soundly. Finally, she said to him in a loud voice, “Well, awake thou,” whereupon all his members moved. Then she placed him in her bag and emptied her basket of marriage bread. Then, after fastening a forehead strap to her pack, she placed it on her back, carrying it by means of the strap. It was very heavy, and he was asleep. Far away from the place where she had conquered him there was a very steep rock. On this the young woman seated herself and proceeded to unwrap her pack. She bound a band around the head of the young man; then she called to him, saying, “Awake thou!” She used all her might of voice in saying again, “Awake thou!”
Suddenly the young man awoke, and the young woman said to him: “Dost thou recognize this place?” He looked around to see whether he had any knowledge of the place, and said in reply: “I know this place. Here is where my uncle and myself take the moose while out hunting.” Answering him, the maiden replied: “It is true. You do know this place. I think that, perhaps, I can not do better than to hunt the vermin in your head again. Again you must face the place you did once before.” So he sat down facing the young woman, resting his head in her lap. The young woman again searched his head for vermin, while he meekly faced her person.
Again he fell asleep, and again his sleep was very sound, so truly, when the young woman again said, “Awake thou!” it was impossible for him to awake. Again she wrapped him in her bag, which she took on her back again, carrying the pack by means of the forehead strap. She then started for home. Arriving at the shore of the lake, she again awakened him, saying to him, “Awake thou!” But it was a very long time before he awoke. When he did so, she said to him: “Well, dost thou know this place?” After looking around a [[754]]while, he replied: “I recognize this place. It is here that my uncle and myself engage in fishing.” She replied merely: “So be it. Now again I will search for vermin in your head, and again thou must face the same place that thou didst the last time I cleaned thy head.” So she again searched for vermin in his head. It was not very long before he again was fast asleep with his head on the lap of the young woman. Thereupon she bound him up once more in her bag and again placed the pack on her back, carrying it by means of the forehead strap.
When she arrived at the place wherein abode her sisters and mother they were surprised that she returned carrying a pack on her back. Throwing the pack on the ground in the lodge, she said to her mother and sisters, “Verily, Doädanegeñ is contained in the pack. Do you now take him out of it.” Then her mother said to her, “Oh, my daughter! I am thankful that the matter has been accomplished, because I depend on you.” Then, addressing herself to the sleeping young man, she said: “Oh, my son-in-law, awake thou!” but it was a very long time before he awoke. He arose, and going aside, took a seat there. He was greatly surprised by the beauty of the inmates of the lodge and their mother, too. When night came on Doädanegeñ shared the bed of the young woman who had brought him back with her.
In the meanwhile, the next day, the younger one of his wives said to her elder sister: “These women who live far from here have taken our husband away from us; it is they who have conquered him. Now, I will now go after him. You must remain with the old man, his uncle.” Thereupon the old man began to weep because he did not know where his nephew was. He lamented, saying “Hāʹgiʻ, hāʹgiʻ, giʼ; 10 years will pass before I shall give him up, hāʹgiʻ.”
Then the younger wife started, saying: “I will go to fetch him back home.” So she departed, leaving her elder sister to remain with the uncle of Doädanegeñ. Finally she arrived at the tree in which her husband was accustomed to hunt for raccoons. She could see plainly the trail left by the woman who had accomplished his seduction and then carried him away. Then she started on farther. Again she sang the song in which she used the following words: “Hăʻhowi, hăʻhowi, hăʻhowi; I am going to hunt for the person, hăʻhowi, hăʻhowi, of Doädanegeñ wherever he may be, hăʻhowi, hăʻhowi, I am going to hunt for the person of Hatʻhoñʹdas (The Obedient), ĕʼ ĕⁿʻhĕⁿʻ.” Thus she traveled on.
At last she reached the settlement in which lived the wicked four women, the mother and her three daughters. She was surprised to see a short distance away the lodge she was seeking. She stood there for a moment, listening very intently for any sounds that she [[755]]might be able to hear from the lodge. She was greatly surprised to hear her husband therein weeping; she recognized his voice. At once she rushed forward to the side of the lodge, and peering through the crevices in its bark walls she was surprised to see Doädanegeñ standing there weeping as he was being tortured with fire. The mother stood there holding a basket in her hands, at the same time drawing brands out of the fire, with which they touched their victim around the ears, causing him to weep. The tears which he shed were wampum beads, which were caught on a buckskin spread out on the ground for the purpose. Then the old woman would gather the beads into her basket.
His wife saw this taking place—a provoking sight—and without any thought of what was going on and regardless of any fear as to consequences she rushed into the lodge and, seizing her husband, drew him out of the lodge. As soon as they had come out she called in a loud voice: “Hither do ye come, you brave ones, my own guardian beings, ye small humming birds.” And they two, wife and husband, quickly ran around the lodge, the wife shouting exultingly, “Let no person whatsoever escape from the lodge, no matter how great a wizard he or she may be; let the top and the bottom and the sides of the lodge be closed up, and let the lodge become red hot. Have courage, my guardian beings, have courage.” These came to her aid, making the sound dauñʻʹ while they worked. Suddenly the lodge burst into flames, and then the imprisoned women wept—the unfortunate mother and her daughters. Slowly the sounds they made in their frantic efforts to escape died away to silence.
Then the young wife said to her husband, “Now, let us go to our home.” So they started; but the husband could scarcely walk because he had been so cruelly tortured. Finally they reached the lake, whereupon the young wife said, “Hither do thou come to give us aid, thou the great leech, as thou art called.” Just then they saw it make its appearance above the water in the middle of the lake. It was not long before it came up to the place where they two were standing. Then the young woman said to it, “Do you help us two, for we are to be pitied, my husband and myself. He is named Doädanegeñ, a famous name. We two will mount on your back, so now make a straight course for the place whence we two have departed.” The great leech, obeying the young woman’s command, bore them across the lake to their own shore. Then the young woman gratefully thanked it, saying, “I am thankful, and I make my acknowledgments to you for aiding us. Now you are again free.”
So husband and wife returned to their home whence they had gone on this adventure. When they had arrived near the lodge the young man overheard his uncle weeping within it. He heard him singing his lamentation, “Oh, my nephew! my nephew, my nephew, [[756]]10 years will be the limit of my mourning for you. It will be 10 years before I will give you up.” In addition to this he sat near the fire and was engaged in dipping up with a paddle burning coals and hot ashes, which he poured on the top of his head. He had, indeed, already burned or scorched off all the hair. The nephew found him only half alive. When the nephew entered the lodge he said tenderly, “Oh, my uncle! I have now returned home.” But the wretched old man would not cease his weeping and self-humiliation. Then the nephew grasped the old man, saying, “Oh, my uncle! I have now returned home. It is I, Doädanegeñ, who have returned home.” The aged uncle, recognizing his nephew, whom he believed dead, exclaimed, “Wuʼʹ! Is it indeed you? I am thankful that you have returned home. Do not hereafter go to distant places. You must remain at home with us. You can hunt in places which are not far from here, because now the time is at hand when this elder one of your wives is about to become a mother, so you must be near her.”
This is the story of Doädanegeñ. This is the end of the story.