The Oneidas have not long been beggars by the road side. They were one of the five tribes confederated under the name of the Iroquois, who gloried in having fought their way into the country of the Mohawks, and kept their place and possessions in the midst of them; the latter tribe enjoying the undisputed honour of being an original people on the soil. Though merged in a confederacy, however, the Oneidas had their own chiefs; and a mythology of their own, which is not a little curious. It will not be mal-apropos, accompanying drawings of the towns that have usurped their ancient seat, to give some account of their ideas upon the origin of the earth and the human race.
According to the Oneida, an unlimited expanse of water once filled the space now occupied by the world which we inhabit. At this time the human family dwelt in a country situated in the upper regions of the air, abounding in every thing conducive to the comfort and pleasure of life. The inhabitants were strangers to death, and its harbingers, pain and disease; whilst their minds were free from the corroding passions of jealousy, hatred, and revenge.
At length, however, an event occurred which interrupted their tranquillity, and introduced care and anxiety, until then unknown. A certain youth was noticed to withdraw himself from the circle of their social amusements: the solitary recesses of the grove became his favourite walks. Care and chagrin were depicted in his countenance, and his body, from long abstinence, presented to the view of his friends the mere skeleton of a man. Anxious solicitude in vain explored the cause of his grief; until, at length, debilitated both in body and mind, he yielded to the importunity of his associates, and promised to disclose the cause of his trouble on condition that they would dig up by the roots a certain white pine-tree, lay him in his blanket by the margin of the hole, and seat his wife by his side. In a moment all hands were ready. The fatal tree was taken up by the roots; in doing which, the earth was perforated, and a passage opened into the abyss below. The blanket was spread by the hole, the youth laid upon it, and his wife, then in a state of pregnancy, took her seat by his side. The multitude, eager to learn the cause of such strange and unusual conduct, pressed around; when, on a sudden, to their horror and astonishment, he seized upon the woman, and precipitated her headlong into the regions of darkness below; then, rising from the ground, he informed the assembly, that he had for some time suspected the chastity of his wife, and that, having now disposed of the cause of his trouble, he should soon recover his usual health and vivacity.
All those amphibious animals which now inhabit this world then roamed through the watery waste to which the woman, in her fall, was hastening. The Loon first discovered her coming, and called a council in haste to prepare for her reception; observing, that the animal which approached was a human being, and that earth was indispensably necessary for its accommodation. The first subject of deliberation was, who should support the burden.
The sea-bear first presented himself for a trial of his strength. Instantly the other animals gathered round and scrambled on his back; while the bear, unable to support the weight, sank beneath the surface of the water, and was, by the whole assembly, judged unequal to the task of supporting the earth. Several others in succession presented themselves as candidates for the honour, with similar success. Last of all the turtle modestly advanced, tendering his broad shell as the basis of the earth now about to be formed. The beasts then made a trial of his strength to bear, heaping themselves on his back; and finding their united pressure unable to sink him below the surface, adjudged to him the honour of supporting the world.
A foundation being thus provided, the next subject of deliberation was, how to procure earth. Several of the most expert divers plunged to the bottom of the sea, and came up dead; but the mink, at last, though he shared the fate of the others, brought up in his claws a small quantity of earth. This was placed on the back of the turtle.
In the mean time, the woman continued falling, and, at length, alighted on the turtle’s back. The earth had already grown to the size of a man’s foot, where she stood, with one foot covering the other. Shortly, she had room for both feet, and was soon able to sit down. The earth continued to expand; and when its plain was covered with verdure, and traced with streams, which poured into the ocean, she erected her habitation on the sea-shore.
Not long after, she was delivered of a daughter, and was supported by the spontaneous productions of the earth, till the child arrived to womanhood. She was then solicited in marriage by several animals, changed into the forms of young men; but they were rejected successively by the mother, until the turtle offered himself as a suitor, and was received. After she had laid herself down to sleep, the turtle placed two arrows on her body, in the form of a cross—one headed with flint, the other with the rough bark of a tree. In due time she was delivered of two sons, but died in child-birth.
The grandmother, enraged at her daughter’s death, resolved to destroy them, and threw them into the sea. Scarcely had she reached her wigwam, when the children overtook her at the door. She then concluded to let them live; and, dividing the corpse of her daughter in two parts, she threw them up towards the heavens, where one became the sun, the other the moon. Then first began the succession of day and night. The children speedily became men, and expert archers. The elder had the arrow of the turtle which was pointed with flint; the younger had the arrow headed with bark. The former was, by his malignant disposition, and his skill and success in hunting, a favourite with his grandmother. They lived in the midst of plenty, but would not permit the younger brother, whose arrow was insufficient to kill any thing larger than birds, to share in their abundance.
As this young man was wandering one day along the shore, he saw a bird perched on a bough, projecting over the water. He attempted to kill it; but his arrow, till that time unerring, flew wide of the mark, and sank in the sea. He determined to recover it, and plunged to the bottom. Here, to his astonishment, he found himself in a small cottage. A venerable old man, sitting there, received him with a smile, and thus addressed him:—“My son, I welcome you to the habitation of your father! To obtain this interview, I directed all the circumstances which have conspired to bring you hither. Here is your arrow, and here is an ear of corn. I have watched the unkindness of your brother, and command you to take his life. When you return home, collect all the flints you can find, and hang up all the bucks’-horns. These are the only things which will make an impression on his body, which is made of flint.”