Taking up his pack, the boy said: “My elder sister, I am starting—you say that the path leads directly south?” She replied: “That is what I said.” Thereupon he went out of the lodge. For a long time she heard his voice around the lodge, as he went about murmuring. After that she heard it no more. Then she said: “Now, I suppose he has started. Oh! he is to be pitied, for he will become wretched. It is doubtful whether we shall ever see each other again.” The lad followed the path, and in the evening he suddenly came to a spot where it was plain that fires had been kindled and people had spent the night. The remains were of many times. Having decided to spend the night there, he kindled a fire, by means of which he warmed the bread and the meat which he took out of his pack. When he had finished his meal, he was startled to see near by forked or crotched rods set in the ground, on some of which were fixed pieces of bread, and on others pieces of meat. These had been there for widely varying periods. At this sight he exclaimed: “Oh, how wretched did they become! Those persons who have left these remains are indeed all dead, and they were brothers to me. So I, too, shall do the same thing.” Then he set up in the ground a rod with a crotch, on which he fastened a piece of bread among the other fragments of all ages—some of them quite old. Then he lay down and went to sleep, with his body supported against his pack. In the morning, finding everything as it should be, the lad said aloud: “I am thankful that I am still alive. My elder sister said indeed that it was doubtful that she and I would see each other again, because the path I must follow passes through all manner of difficulties.”
Having said this, he set out along the path. When he had gone a long way he was startled to hear at some distance the sound, “doʻʹ, doʻʹ, doʻʹ, doʻʹ,” which one would suppose was made by a woodpecker loudly pecking on a great hollow tree. Going to the tree whence the noise came, he saw fluttering from place to place and pecking holes in the trunk a cuckoo of enormous size. A sight that caught his eye and conveyed a more serious warning was the great number of arrows stuck in the tree near the spot where the cuckoo was fluttering about. He concluded that these arrows had belonged probably to those who had been his brothers, and that therefore this bird was possessed of great orenda (magic power), which it exerted with evil purpose only. Thereupon the lad exclaimed: “It shall see its doom, for now I will kill it.” Aiming at the cuckoo, his arrow struck in the very center of its body, whereupon it began to beat with its wings against the tree to which it was pinned. [[582]]
Thus leaving the bird, the boy went on until evening, when he again came to a spot where there were still traces of the former fireplace. There he stopped for the night. After taking his pack from the forehead strap and laying it aside, he kindled a fire, by which he warmed up the meat and the bread he had brought. When he finished his meal he set up a forked or pronged rod to which he fastened a small portion of bread. The spot was literally covered with rods carrying bread of all ages, which had been set up by persons at widely varying times. Having completed his offering, the boy retired for the night, resting on his pack. Soon he began to be troubled with dreams, so that he rolled and tossed from side to side and could not sleep.
Suddenly he was startled by the barking of a small dog, which had a very shrill bark, such as he had never before heard. The sound drew nearer. The night was very dark. Quickly arising and taking with him all his things he ran to a near-by stream and ran up the trunk of a tree that slanted far out over the water. In a short time he became suddenly aware from its barking that the dog was near and that it was rapidly coming nearer still. When the animal was very close the boy heard the sound of rattles [of deer knuckles] and a woman’s voice approaching, too, saying to the dog: “Do your best, my slave. Just leave me the head of Hodadeñon.” Now he was startled by the barking of the cur directly under the tree in which he was seated. Carefully fitting his arrow, he released it, whereupon the arrow flew with the sound “thum!” and he heard the cry of the cur, “kwĕñʻʹ, kwĕñʻʹ, kwĕñʻʹ,” so he knew that he had struck it. There the woman turned back, saying: “Aha! It is true, I think, as all people are saying, that Hodadeñon is without a peer in sorcery.”
In the morning the lad descended from his perch on the slanting tree and went to the place where lay the cur, stark dead. The arrow had struck the body fairly in the middle, where it still remained. He drew his arrow out of the dog’s body, when he suddenly found that there was a very small knuckle rattle tied to its neck. Having removed this rattle bell, he cast the body of the dog, which was indeed very small, into the water. In doing this he remarked, “Now will begin the period in which my mind is to be disturbed by serious difficulties, it would seem. I think those women whose minds are evil do not live far from here.” So saying, he started on his journey.
The lad had not gone far when all at once he saw a man coming toward him. As they met, the stranger said: “I am thankful that you are in health and peace, Hodadeñon.” Hodadeñon answered: “It is true in the terms of your greeting to me. It is now my turn, too, to greet you. I am thankful that you are well and in peace.” The man replied: “This is certainly the truth.” Then the two [[583]]smiled, and one asked: “Is it not true that you and I are friends?” Whereupon the other answered: “Indeed it is the truth we are friends. Whence did you come?” Then the lad said: “Ho, far from here have I come. Whence did you come to this place?” The stranger replied: “I, this self of mine, came from far from here, and I have left no relations, and this is the reason why I am called Hodadeñon (Sʻhodadeñon[433]). It is known that I myself am the last one. The lodge whence I came was very long and, it is said, was full of my relations, now dead, and of my own brothers. They were destroyed on the way to the place where dwell those women of evil minds. We are friends, so let us go together. You can aid me, and we shall be able to rob them of tobacco.” The stranger’s answer was, “Be it so,” whereupon the two at once started off along the path.
After going a long distance they found the remains of a fire; there they stopped for the night. As soon as they had warmed up bread and meat they ate their evening meal. When they had finished eating the stranger said: “It is a fact that these portions of bread affixed to the top of the rods are the cause or occasion for which all our kinsmen died. Moreover, it is for us to make this a feast of Reunion of the Living, which we must use as the means of thanksgiving and prayer. We must make an offering of tobacco by casting tobacco on the fire. It is called the ceremony of making an offering of tobacco. I have tobacco with which to do this.” Hodadeñon answered: “So be it. How shall we do it?” The stranger: “All provisions that you have brought with you we must lay in a circle around the fire, and a portion we must place aside in the dark (i.e., conceal it).” Saying, “So be it,” Hodadeñon began to take the things out of his pouch and to lay them in a circle around the fire. He also hid far away in the dark some meat and bread.
Standing beside the fire and holding the tobacco from the pouch in his hand, he said: “Come now, listen to me, you, all kinds of animals and you, too, who have formed and made my life.” With these words he cast the tobacco into the fire, exclaiming: “Now do you listen; now the smoke of tobacco arises. Moreover, he and I ask you to give us assistance, all of you who inhabit the forests and who are immune to enchantment, and you who have made my life and that of my friend, who, too, has no relations left, and myself who have no relations left, for which reason I am called Hodadeñon. We shall fetch all these from the place where they have perished. These are the things for which I pray. So thus we here fulfill our obligation by placing this tobacco in this place, and we have laid away food in the darkness.” Having completed this invocation, Hodadeñon said to his companion: “Come, now, let us go.” [[584]]
At midnight the two started and had gone very far when daylight came. As they traveled they suddenly heard ahead of them the sounds “duʻʹ, duʻʹ, duʻʹ, duʻʹ.” Thereupon Hodadeñon said to his friend: “Show your courage now, my friend. We have arrived, it seems, in the place where those who have evil minds dwell. Closer let us go.” At last they reached the place in which the lodge stood, and they halted some distance from it.
All at once they heard a man singing and beating a drum. As he sang, he said: “Here I am making tobacco; here I am making tobacco; here I am making tobacco; he who has tobacco prepares tobacco.” Hodadeñon said to his companion, “Now is the time,” and his friend replied: “So let it be.” Then they two entered the lodge, where they came face to face with an old man, who held a mallet in his hand with which he was pounding the tobacco all over. He was so old that his eyebrows hung down far over his eyes. Hodadeñon said to him, “Oh, my uncle!” but he did not notice him and kept on pounding the tobacco. At this, Hodadeñon, drawing his war club, struck him a blow on the forehead, causing the blood to gush forth. After a long while the old man said, “Oh! I am sweating,” at the same time wiping the blood off his forehead. Next, upraising his eyebrows and looking at them, he said: “Oh! my two nephews, you have now arrived. Take courage, my two nephews, because I myself am a slave working in tobacco.” Hodadeñon answered: “I have come after tobacco and nothing else, because my elder brother, who is far from here, desires to smoke.” The old man answered: “He is, I suppose, my own brother. So be it. Take some back with you.”