Zuñi Folk Tales

by Frank Hamilton Cushing

“O, ye, my people and children, I instruct ye today! Let the young men and the warriors gather and prepare as for war. By means of the sacred images which have been made by the Two Beloved for our son, Swift-runner, it may be that we shall succeed in tempting Old Tarantula forth from his den tomorrow. Let us be prepared to capture him. Make haste! Make ready! Thus much I instruct ye.”

In great haste, as if under the influence of joyful tidings indeed, the people prepared for war, gathered together in great numbers, testing the strength of their bows, and with much racket issued forth from the town under Thunder Mountain, spreading over all the foot-hills. And toward daylight the youth alone took his way toward the sacrificial rock-shelf on the side of the mountain. When he arrived there, behold! the two Antelopes and the two Deer were tamely walking about, cropping the grass and tender leaves, and as he approached, they said: “So, here you are.”

“Now, this day, behold, my children!” said he in his prayer. “Even for the reason that we have made ye beings, follow my instructions, oh, do! Most wickedly and shamefully has Old Tarantula, living below Ak’yapaatch-ella, robbed me of my sacred fine apparel. I therefore call ye to aid me. Go ye now toward his home, that he may be tempted forth by the sight of ye.”

Obediently the Deer and Antelope took their way down the sloping sides of the foot-hills toward Old Tarantula’s den. As they neared the den the youth called out from one of the valleys below, “Hu-u-u-u-u-u! Hasten! There go some deer and antelope! Whoever may be near them, understand, there go some deer and antelope!”

Old Tarantula was talking to himself, as usual, down in his inner room. He heard the faint sound. “Ha!” cried he, “what is this humming? Somebody calling, no doubt.” He skipped out toward the doorway just as the young man called the second time. “Ah, ha!” said he. “He says deer are coming, doesn’t he? Let us see.” And presently, when the young man called the third time, he exclaimed: “That’s it! that is what he is calling out. Now for a hunt! I might as well get them as anyone else.”

He caught up his bow, slipped the noose over the head of it, twanged the string, and started. But just as he was going out of his hole, he said to himself: “Good daylight! this never will do; they will be after me if I go out. Oh, pshaw! Nonsense! they will do nothing of the kind. What does it matter? Haven’t I bow and arrows with me?” He leaped out of his hole and started off toward the Deer. As he gained an eminence, he cried: “Ah, ha! sure enough, there they come!” Indeed, he was telling the truth. The Deer still approached, and when the first one came near he drew an arrow strongly and let fly. One of them dropped at once. “Ah, ha!” cried he, “who says I am not a good hunter?” He whipped out another arrow, and fired at the second Deer, which dropped where it had stood. With more exclamations of delight, he shot at the Antelope following, which fell; and then at the last one, which fell as the others had.

“Now,” said he, “I suppose I might as well take my meat home. Fine game I have bagged today.” He untied the strap which he had brought along and tied together the legs of the first deer he had shot. He stooped down, raised the deer, knelt on the ground and drew the strap over his forehead, and was just about to rise with his burden and make off for his den when, klo-o-o-o-o! he fell down almost crushed under a mass of white rock. “Goodness! what’s this? Mercy, but this is startling!” He looked around, but he saw nothing of his game save a shapeless mass of white rock. “Well, I will try this other one,” said he to himself. He had no sooner placed the other on his back than down it bore him, another mass of white rock! “What can be the matter? The devil must be to pay!” said he. Then he tried the next, with no better success. “Well, there is one left, anyway,” said he. He tied the feet of the last one together, and was about to place the strap over his forehead, when he heard a mighty and thundering tread and great shouting and a terrible noise altogether, for the people were already gathering about his den. He made for the mouth of it with all possible speed, but the people were there before him; they closed in upon him, they clutched at his stolen garments, they pulled his earrings out of his ears, slitting his ears in doing so, until he put up his hands and cried: “Death and ashes! Mercy! Mercy! You hurt! You hurt! Don’t treat me so! I’ll be good hereafter. I’ll take the clothing off and give it back to you without making the slightest trouble, if you will let me alone.” But the people closed in still more angrily, and pulled him about, buffeted him, tore his clothing from him, until he was left nude and bruised and so maimed that he could hardly move.

Then the old priests gathered around, and said one of them: “It will not be well if we let this beast go as he is; he is too large, too powerful, and too crafty. He has but to think of destruction; forsooth, he destroys. He has but to think of over-reaching; it is accomplished. It will not be well that he should go abroad thus. He must be roasted; and thus only can we rid the world of him as he is.”

So the people assembled and heaped up great quantities of dry firewood; and they drilled fire from a stick, and lighted the mass. Then they cast the struggling Tarantula amid the flames, and he squeaked and sizzled and hissed, and swelled and swelled and swelled, until, with a terrific noise, he burst, and the fragments of his carcass were cast to the uttermost parts of the earth. These parts again took shape as beings not unlike Old Tarantula himself.

Thus it was in the days of the ancients. And therefore today, though crooked are the legs of the tarantula, and his habit of progress backward, still he is distributed throughout the great world. Only he is very, very much smaller than was the Great Tarantula who lived below the two rocky columns of Thunder Mountain.