Zuñi Folk Tales

by Frank Hamilton Cushing

Now, in reality, his log had been cast high up on the shore of a great mountain that rose out of the waters; and this mountain was the home of the Rattlesnakes. A Rattlesnake maiden was roaming along the shore just as the young man was about to open the door of his log. She espied the curious vessel, and said to herself in thought: “What may this be? Ah, yes, and who? Ah, yes, the mortal who was to come; it must be he!” Whereupon she hastened to the shore and tapped on the log.

“Art thou come?” she asked.

“Aye,” replied the youth. “Who may you be, and where am I?”

“You are landed on the Island of the Rattlesnakes, and I am one of them. The other side of the mountain here is where our village is. Come out and go with me, for my old ones have expected you long.”

“Is it dry, surely?” asked the young man.

“Why, yes! Here you are high above the waters.”

Thereupon the young man opened from the inside his door, and peered out. Surely enough, there he was high among the rocks and sands. Then he looked at the Rattlesnake maiden, and scarcely believed she was what she called herself, for she was a most beautiful young woman, and like a daughter of men. Yet around her waist—she was dressed in cotton mantles—was girt a rattlesnake-skin which was open at the breast and on the crown of the head.

“Come with me,” said the maiden; and she led the way over the mountain and across to a deep valley, where terrible Serpents writhed and gleamed in the sunlight so thickly that they seemed, with their hissing and rattling, like a dry mat shaken by the wind. The youth drew back in horror, but the maiden said: “Fear not; they will neither harm you nor frighten you more, for they are my people.” Whereupon she commanded them to fall back and make a pathway for the young man and herself; and they tamely obeyed her commands. Through the opening thus made they passed down to a cavern, on entering which they found a great room. There were great numbers of Rattlesnake people, old and young, gathered in council, for they knew of the coming of the young man. Around the walls of their houses were many pegs and racks with serpent skins hanging on them—skins like the one the young girl wore as a girdle. The elders arose and greeted the youth, saying: “Our child and our father, comest thou, comest thou happily these many days?”

“Aye, happily,” replied the youth.

And after a feast of strange food had been placed before the young man, and he had eaten a little, the elders said to him: “Knowest thou whither thou goest, that the way is long and fearful, and to mortals unknown, and that it will be but to meet with poverty that thou journeyest alone? Therefore have we assembled to await thy coming and in order that thou shouldst journey preciously, we have decided to ask thee to choose from amongst us whom thou shalt have for a companion.”