The young man took the arrow again and they went on to the spot where they would encamp for the night. When they arrived at the place the sun was low in the west. The old man said to his nephew, in order to remove any apprehensions from his mind as to his own good intentions, “I will now skin the fisher and prepare its skin.” At this time they heard in the distance the sounds of persons laughing. And, they say, these persons made their several camps there. [[513]]Then Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ said, “Here let us, for our part, pitch our camp, because when among people I am much abused because I am quite old.” So Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and his companion kindled a fire with fagots and soon had it burning briskly. Each took opposite sides of the fire and lay down to sleep for the night.
Some time during the night the crafty Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ sat up and blew the fire up in such manner that sparks and coals fell all over Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ as he lay asleep. But the latter arose suddenly and asked, “Why have you done this unreasonable thing?” The old man dissimulatingly replied, “Oh! that was probably caused by a gust of wind driving the sparks over your body.” Then they lay down again. Again, just before the break of day, the old man once more blew the fire on his seemingly sleeping companion. Thereupon the latter arose, and taking his bow and flint-pointed arrow, crossed over the fireplace to the place where his companion was lying. He was surprised to see him awake, looking at him. The old man deprecatingly said, “Oh, my nephew! you do not seem to know that you were nearly burned up, as the fire was falling on you; and you must not think that it was I who did this to you.” Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ was greatly astonished at what had happened and said to his companion, “If you do not refrain from what you are doing it is possible for me to destroy you.”
When it was nearly daylight sounds were heard in the camp ahead and the occupants started on their journey; then the two in turn started on their way. They had not gone very far when they heard sounds in the distance which told them that they had arrived at the place in which were congregated all the people who were shooting at the mark.
Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ kept right on their way until they reached the spot. The nephew did not fear anything. Once on the ground they were quickly made aware that a tree stood there and that on its top sat a hawk (?) or hawks (?). There was a large number of people who were engaged in shooting at the prize, seemingly fastened to the top of the trees, which stood in the dooryard of the old woman who dwelt in this place; but all failed to hit the mark. A short distance from the place where the people were engaged in shooting at the mark there stood a lodge, in which the old woman, the mother of the family, walked to and fro, murmuring, “He who will hit that thing which is perched on the top of my tree shall marry my youngest daughter.” She kept on saying this as she went from place to place. Without cessation, day after day for many days the marksmen kept on shooting at the hawk (?) perched on the top of the old woman’s tree. Sometimes an arrow would fly very close to the bird, which would merely flap [[514]]its wings; at this the assembly would give a loud shout of encouragement. At once the old woman would come forth on the run and would ask anxiously, “Who is it that hit the mark? Who is it that is my son-in-law?” But the people would reply, “It is not true that one has hit it. No one has done so.” Then she would return to her lodge somewhat disappointed.
Now the people began to say among themselves, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has arrived, and he is immune (from the influence of hostile orenda).” Then he said to the assembly, “Now it is my turn to shoot. It is not certain what will take place when I shoot. You will see what happens.” He strung his bow, and all the people became quiet and attentive as they watched him. Assuming a suitable position and taking aim, the young man drew his arrow to the very point and then let it fly. Without a hitch, the arrow struck fairly in the center of the bird’s body, causing the bird to fall over on the opposite of the tree, whence, with wings feebly flapping, it fell to the ground. At this the assembly broke out in a loud shout of applause—so loud that one would think the sound struck the heavens. The old woman came up on the run, anxiously asking, “Who is he that has become my son-in-law?” All the people rushed forward to the place where lay the bird with the arrow still sticking in its body.
It so happened that one of the marksmen would run up and attempt to withdraw the arrow, but would fail,[412] and then another, and then another; but they all failed. Again Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, coming up, said, “Who has become my son-in-law?” As the marksmen failed to withdraw the arrow, she continued, “He who shall be able to withdraw the arrow shall be my son-in-law.” Just then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ came up, saying, “All stand back. This is my arrow.” The people drew back, and he walked up to the bird and, as he walked along, he drew out the arrow. Then the old woman said, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has become my son-in-law,” and, taking him by the arm, she led him back to her lodge. Then the people dispersed in all directions. Then the old woman and her companion reached her lodge, in one side of which was a sort of apartment occupied by her daughter, who was born with a caul, and hence was regarded as of noble birth. The epithet applied to such maidens and young men is “down fended.” The old woman, leading the young man into this apartment, said to her daughter, “This man has become my son-in-law. He is called Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, and he is immune from enchantment.”
The young man then took up his abode in his wife’s family. Hō! He remained there for a long time. Then he said, “I shall go on a hunt,” and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his three brothers-in-law, [[515]]“Come with me to hunt.” Having accepted his invitation, they started on their hunting trip, but they had not gone very far when they were surprised by a small herd of deer, which fled from them. Then the young bridegroom said to his brothers-in-law, “Remain here, and I alone will pursue them from place to place.” In a short time he shot at one and hit it, and it fell. Then, following the remaining deer, he killed them one by one. Thereupon he stopped, and hailing his brothers-in-law, said to them, “Come hither, my brothers-in-law, and let us dress these deer.” So they went to him and took part in the skinning of the deer. When they had finished dressing the carcasses they began at once to pack the pelts and the venison into suitable bundles in such manner as was customary in the early time. When they were all ready they bore these bundles on their backs by means of the forehead strap—the usual and the most convenient method of carrying heavy burdens; and they started for their home with Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ in the lead.
Having arrived at their lodge, they laid their packs of venison and pelts at the feet of their mother, who wept for the great joy she had in receiving so much venison, saying: “I am very thankful to my son-in-law for this bounty, and on my part I will fulfill my duty in providing the feast of the ‘eat-all-up,’[413] which shall take place tomorrow.” So the next morning they put the kettles over the fire in the early dawn, and the daughters set to work industriously to prepare food for the approaching feast. Suddenly the old woman, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, went out of the lodge and ran through the village, saying to the people: “The feast of eat-all-up is to be held at my lodge. Let all go directly to the place whence I have come, and start at once.” This she said as she went through the village, and then she returned to her own home. Then her daughters and sons removed the kettles from the fire; and they placed the corn-meal mush and the venison, cooked in pieces, in bark trays and bowls which they had ready to receive the prepared food.
Now people began to arrive, and they sat down and became very quiet. At this time the old woman, the mother of the daughters of the lodge, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ said, addressing the assembly: “Now, you who have come here this day know that the usual custom for a feast of this kind shall be followed. You who have come in by invitation shall first eat your shares of the food; and it was for this reason that I desired a feast of eat-all-up as my thanks offering; and when you have finished eating, then my children and I will eat. For such is the custom when one marries. Now, then, you must eat. You must eat up all that is apportioned to you, for this is the reason that this feast is called the feast of eat-all-up.”
Thereupon the neighbors began to eat. They ate during the entire day; they ate the venison; they enjoyed also the corn-meal mush; and [[516]]they kept saying as they ate, “I am thankful for this food,” each as he felt satisfied. Thus in time they fulfilled the rites of the feast of eat-up-all, which is usually given when one is married; they ate up all that had been prepared for them—a good omen for the newly married couple. Then each went his way home. But there was one matter which was postponed until the next day.