Wolves—The wolf is regarded as the servant and watchdog of Kana′tĭ. See [number 15], “The Fourfooted Tribes.”
From these have come all—In nearly every Indian mythology we find the idea of certain animal tribes being descended from a single survivor of some great slaughter by an early hero god or trickster. Thus the Kiowa say that all the prairie dogs on the plains are descended from a single little fellow who was too wary to close his eyes, as his companions did, when the hungry vagrant Sinti was planning to capture them all for his dinner under pretense of teaching them a new dance.
A gaming wheel—This was the stone wheel or circular disk used in the wheel-and-stick game, called by the Cherokee gatayûstĭ, and which in one form or another was practically universal among the tribes. It was the game played by the great mythic gambler Ûñtsaiyĭ′ (see [number 63]). It has sometimes been known in the north as the “snow-snake,” while to the early southern traders it was known as chunki or chungkey, a corruption of the Creek name. Timberlake (page 77) mentions it under the name of nettecawaw—for which there seems to be no other authority—as he saw it among the Cherokee in 1762.[21] It was also noted among the Carolina tribes by Lederer in 1670 and Lawson in 1701. John Ax, the oldest man now living among the East Cherokee, is the only one remaining in the tribe who has ever played the game, having been instructed in it when a small boy by an old man who desired to keep up the memory of the ancient things. The sticks used have long since disappeared, but the stones remain, being frequently picked up in the plowed fields, especially in the neighborhood of mounds. The best description of the southern game is given by Adair:
“They have near their state house a square piece of ground well cleaned, and fine sand is carefully strewed over it, when requisite, to promote a swifter motion to what they throw along the surface. Only one, or two on a side, play at this ancient game. They have a stone about two fingers broad at the edge and two spans round. Each party has a pole of about eight feet long, smooth, and tapering at each end, the points flat. They set off abreast of each other at 6 yards from the end of the playground; then one of them hurls the stone on its edge, in as direct a line as he can, a considerable distance toward the middle of the other end of the square. When they have ran [sic] a few yards each darts his pole, anointed with bear’s oil, with a proper force, as near as he can guess in proportion to the motion of the stone, that the end may lie close to the stone. When this is the case, the person counts two of the game, and in proportion to the nearness of the poles to the mark, one is counted, unless by measuring both are found to be at an equal distance from the stone. In this manner the players will keep running most part of the day at half speed, under the violent heat of the sun, staking their silver ornaments, their nose, finger and ear rings; their breast, arm and wrist plates, and even all their wearing apparel except that which barely covers their middle. All the American Indians are much addicted to this game, which to us appears to be a task of stupid drudgery. It seems, however, to be of early origin, when their forefathers used diversions as simple as their manners. The hurling stones they use at present were time immemorial rubbed smooth on the rocks, and with prodigious labour. They are kept with the strictest religious care from one generation to another, and are exempted from being buried with the dead. They belong to the town where they are used, and are carefully preserved.”[22]
In one version of the Kana′tĭ myth the wheel is an arrow, which the wild boy shoots toward the four cardinal points and finally straight upward, when it comes back no more. When they get above the sky they find Kana′tĭ and Selu sitting together, with the arrow sticking in the ground in front of them. In the Creek story, “The Lion [Panther?] and the Little Girl,” of the Tuggle collection, the lion has a wheel “which could find anything that was lost.”
The twilight land—Usûñhi′yĭ, “Where it is always growing dark,” the spirit land in the west. This is the word constantly used in the sacred formulas to denote the west, instead of the ordinary word Wude′ligûñ′yĭ, “Where it sets.” In the same way Nûñdâ′yĭ, or Nûñdâgûñ′yĭ, the “Sun place, or region,” is the formulistic name for the east instead of Digălûñgûñ′yĭ, “Where it [i. e., the sun] comes up,” the ordinary term. These archaic expressions give to myths and formulas a peculiar beauty which is lost in the translation. As the interpreter once said, “I love to hear these old words.”
Struck by lightning—With the American tribes, as in Europe, a mysterious potency attaches to the wood of a tree which has been struck by lightning. The Cherokee conjurers claim to do wonderful things by means of such wood. Splinters of it are frequently buried in the field to make the corn grow. It must not be forgotten that the boys in this myth are Thunder Boys.
The end of the world—See notes to [number 7], “The Journey to the Sunrise.”
Anisga′ya Tsunsdi′—Abbreviated from Anisga′ya Tsunsdi′ga, “Little Men.” These two sons of Kana′tĭ, who are sometimes called Thunder Boys and who live in Usûñhi′yĭ above the sky vault, must not be confounded with the Yûñwĭ Tsunsdi′, or “Little People,” who are also Thunderers, but who live in caves of the rocks and cause the short, sharp claps of thunder. There is also the Great Thunderer, the thunder of the whirlwind and the hurricane, who seems to be identical with Kana′tĭ himself.
Deer songs—The Indian hunters of the olden time had many songs intended to call up the deer and the bear. Most of these have perished, but a few are still remembered. They were sung by the hunter, with some accompanying ceremony, to a sweetly plaintive tune, either before starting out or on reaching the hunting ground.