When the Seneca lived at Canandaigua one of their medicine-men notified them that something terrible was about to happen, something which would cause many to lose their lives. At this they were greatly frightened; they quarreled with one another and became suspicious even of their own children.
One night a great uproar was heard in the village, and jumping up from their couches, men, women, and children, running out of their lodges, fled as fast as they could in every direction. The weather was very cold. Among the people of the village was a woman who two days before had given birth to a child. She ran for her life, holding the infant in her arms; it was wrapped up and she carried it as a bundle. On the way she determined to throw the bundle down so as to be able to run faster, and on coming to a tree having a hole in one side, not far from the ground, she dropped the bundle into it. [[442]]This was a bear’s den, and as the bundle fell into the hole the old bear found it. The woman, running for her life, overtook some of her people, who asked her what she had done with the child, but she made them no answer. After many had been killed, the enemy (who were Indians) disappeared, and the Seneca made new homes for themselves.
In the spring, while on a hunting expedition, a man came to a chestnut grove, where he camped. The next day while hunting he saw a she-bear with cubs. He killed the old bear. As she fell over, she struck one of the cubs, which cried like a child, while the other cubs ran up a tree. The hunter, hearing the cry, thought it very strange. When he came near the spot, he saw a small boy, who ran away crying. The boy was so wild that the man could hardly catch him. He cried all the time. The hunter said: “Stop crying, nephew; nothing will harm you. Stop, nephew!” The little fellow answered: “You made me cry. You killed my mother; you have made me very miserable. Over there are my brothers” (pointing to the tree). “I should not have killed your mother had I seen you first,” said the man; “but how came that bear to be your mother?” The boy, who was covered with hair, replied: “I will tell you. When your people fled from Canandaigua in the evening of the attack on them, I was thrown away. I was then only two days old, but I remember everything. I knew my mother’s mind. I was a burden to her when she was trying to escape, so she dropped me into the hollow trunk of that tree over there, where a bear happened to live. The bear caught me as I fell, and said that I should live with her children, and that she could keep us all. My mother threw me away to die. The bear is the mother who nursed and cared for me.”
“Very well,” said the man; “I know this is true. You will be my son now.” The boy did not like this, but he agreed to it at last. The man promised that all he had or would get should be his. He stopped crying, and the man, strapping him on his back, carried him to camp. After this, whenever the man went out to hunt, he tied the boy so that he could not get away, until one day the boy said, “Do not tie me. I will never leave you” (his nature had now become human). The hunter had buried the mother bear without taking off her skin. As the boy had promised not to run away, the man let him go with himself to hunt. The boy seemed to have some way of knowing where bears lived, but he never told his father where a female bear was, only where male bears were to be found, and his father shot them. This man had always been a poor hunter until he found the boy; afterward he had wonderful luck. Some time having passed, the man said, “We must go back to our own village.” When they reached home the boy said, “That woman (meaning his mother) will [[443]]see and know me.” “Pay no attention to her,” said the man; “she threw you away.”
They had been home two days, when the woman heard that the hunter had brought back a little boy (the hair had fallen off the boy and the man had made him clothes). Visiting the hunter’s lodge, she watched every movement of the boy. He was afraid of her; he knew her thoughts when she threw him into the tree and knew them now. He said, “This man is my father; he brought me home.” But she made up her mind the boy was hers and urged him to go home with her. One day, when she knew the hunter was away, going to his lodge, she tried to catch the boy, but he ran into the woods, crying from fright. She followed him. The hunter came back, and not finding the child, looked for tracks, soon discovering that the boy had fled from his mother into the woods. The man was sorry, for he was afraid he would never see the boy again. He searched for him for several days. Then he happened to think that perhaps he had gone to their old hunting lodge. On finding him there, he asked, “Why did you leave me?” The boy answered: “A woman followed me. I thought she was going to kill me. She called me her son. I did not like it. I told her I had no mother, but she tried to catch me. I would rather live here all the time.” The man was willing, so, having built a better lodge, they remained there. The boy was an industrious worker and the man became very fond of him. One day the boy said, “I want a playmate.” “All right,” replied the hunter; “your mother is going to have a child. I will bring it.” This did not satisfy the boy, who wanted a companion near his own age. So, going to the settlement, they brought back the man’s sister’s child, who was only a little younger than the bear-nursed boy.
Now there were three in the lodge. When he went off hunting the man often left the boys at home, telling them not to go far from the lodge. After the lapse of time, however, they began to venture farther and farther away from the lodge, until one day, when they were quite far off they saw that the leaves and grass and hills and valleys and everything else were moving together westward. Looking more closely, they saw a large body of land moving, even with game on it and moving as if it were a river. Presently they noticed a coon sitting on the moving ground and going along with this stream, or river, of land.[371] Watching it made them forget everything. As the coon looked at the boys they were about to shoot it with their bows and arrows; one indeed drew his bow, but the coon held up his paw against his face to ward off the arrow. At last the elder boy said: “Let us go home now; we will come here tomorrow and play all day.”
When the hunter came back he had killed several bears and had driven one to the lodge. Calling the boys, he said, “I drove this [[444]]one home only to let you have a hand in killing it.” Instead of killing the bear at once they plagued and tormented it. When they had killed it the man was well pleased and told them that was the way they must do thereafter.
The next day, as usual, the man when starting off cautioned the boys not to go far from the lodge, for if they did they would meet with trouble. But they were so anxious to see the place where they had been the day before that he was scarcely out of sight when they started off. They found that the river of land flowed on the same as it had the day before, the only difference being that it was running more rapidly. They resolved as they saw the animals riding on it that they would do likewise. The younger boy rode some distance on the land stream (it was dry land, but moving just like a river; it was not wide, for a person could jump across it). When the boy came back he said to the other, “Go and try it; it is great fun.” “Well, go with me,” replied the other. They tried it together. It was like sliding down hill; instead of stepping off the “river of land” they would fall over on the land that was not in motion, and then they would get up again. The smaller boy said, “Let us continue on this stream as far as it goes.” The other agreed to this. It was necessary that they should be always of one mind. The smaller one said, “You go ahead.” “All right,” replied the other. He ran on the stream and the other followed. They were having a good time, as they could hear each other shout and laugh. After going some distance the younger one decided to get off and run back, so he called out to the other, “I will go back but will come down again.” It seemed to them exactly like sliding down hill; it was fun to run upstream as well as ride down. As the younger one got on again to go down, his companion passed him, running up. It seemed that they were going faster this time, and when both were on again, one called out to the other, “Let us go as far as we can.” Soon they came to a place where everything seemed to be passing in at a doorway. The boy behind saw his companion go in at the doorway on the stream of land, and he thought it was great sport. At that moment he heard a noise from within which sounded as though some one had killed his friend; then he too went in at the doorway, only to find that it was a place to snare game, and that no one could get off after he had gone so far. All the game went of their own volition, even as they themselves had gone. The instant the elder entered the doorway the man of the lodge hit him on the head with a hammer, killing him. Both boys were now dead.
Two Genonsgwa lived in this lodge, and it was through their great orenda (magic power) that everything was drawn to them. One of the two said to the other, “Hai! now we will have something to eat,” and running splints through the bodies of the boys, each took one to [[445]]roast. The two Genonsgwa did not seem to be of the same family, for each sat on his own side of the fire and cooked for himself. As the bodies began to cook the fat came out, falling on the fire and simmering. A body was standing on each side of the fire, and one called out to the other, “You are burning.” “Guah!” said the Genonsgwa, “that one has a voice, but this one is roasting finely; it can not burn. When one begins to burn the other tells him of it.” One of the Genonsgwa then began eating. “Oh! how delicious this is,” he said, smacking his lips. After he had eaten off all the flesh that was well cooked, he put the rest back to finish roasting; thereupon the partially eaten boy said to the body on the other side, “You are burning.” “How good they are; they won’t let each other burn. It is queer game that talks like this,” said one of the Genonsgwa. The Genonsgwa kept on roasting and eating until one and then the other finished, neither leaving a particle uneaten.
As the first finished he began to be in terrible pain; the other told him that he must help himself, for he was eating his last morsel. Soon he, too, began to groan, and he said to the other, “There is some mystery about this game; it must be that which makes us so sick.” All night long they groaned, each lying on his own side of the fire. Toward morning one quieted down, and at break of day the other also ceased groaning. The two boys were born again, and both Genonsgwa had died from the terrible pain of giving birth to them. One boy said to the other, “If these men had not bothered us, we should have been far from here. Let them be as full of witchcraft as they can be, they do not amount to anything in comparison with us. We have gotten through with them. I have always heard that these men, our uncles, were very potent magically, but they are not. This is why our father warned us not to go far from the lodge. We will go back and tell him all.” While they were there everything was moving. The game which was not killed passed through the lodge. The elder boy said, “Let us go!” As they were starting he saw his mother passing through the lodge; they stood there laughingly, but did not speak to her. The younger said, “Now we will destroy the lodge. Our uncles have done great harm to people. A man should not eat another man. There shall be no more of this. Henceforth men shall eat only game.”[372] The younger boy said this. Of the two boys he had the greater power of witchcraft and was the first to be born after being eaten by the Genonsgwa. He walked around the lodge, throwing red paint such as they used to paint their faces; this action stopped the movement of the stream of land and everything became quiet. He then said, “Now, let us run!” They ran a short distance; on halting and looking back they saw the lodge in flames. The Genonsgwa one after the other burst with a loud report. [[446]]