“Along the edge of the river and over the meadows * * one can now find tiny white violets.”
Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah and Tis-sa-ack
SINCE the world was young Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah, the Rock Chief, had guarded Ah-wah-nee, the home of the children of the sun. For his watch-tower he chose a storm-tried rock on the northern wall of the valley, and from this far height defied all the powers of evil.
In the spring he besought the Great Spirit to send rain that the wild corn might hang heavy with tasseling grain, the berries cluster thick on the branches of the manzanita, and the fish abound in the waters of the river. In the summer he fattened the bear and deer, and in the autumn he wandered through the mountains driving them from their haunts that the hunter might not return empty-handed from the chase. The smoke of his pipe spread like a soft haze through the air, sheltering the women from the sun when they went forth to gather acorns and wood for winter.
His form was like a spear, straight and strong; and he reared his head high above the clouds. In his arm was the strength of an untamed grizzly; and his voice was like the sound of Cho-look, the great fall that thunders down from the north, starting deep echoes from crag and gorge. When the sunlight danced upon the water, the Ah-wah-nee-chees were happy, for they knew that Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah smiled; when the sky was overcast, they trembled, fearful of his frown; when his sighs swept mournfully through the pines, they, too, were sad. The children of Ah-wah-nee loved the mighty Rock Chief who dwelt above them in his lonely lodge.
One morning, as his midnight watch drew to a close and the first pale glint of day shone on his forehead, he heard a soft voice whisper, “Tu-tock-ah-nu-lah!”