[35.] It was nightfall when he emerged. He turned his face in the direction of his home and walked rapidly all the night. As day dawned he began to feel hopeful; but, ere the sun rose, distant sounds, which grew louder and louder, reached his ear. He knew them to be the voices of his pursuers and again he became sorely afraid. He hurried on and came near the foot of a high isolated pinnacle of rock, whose top appeared to be inaccessible. Glancing to the summit, however, he beheld standing there a black mountain sheep. Thinking that this singular vision was sent to him as a sign from the yays (gods) and boded well for him, he came to the base of the rock, when the sheep addressed him, saying: “My grandson, come around to the other side of the rock and you will
find a place where you may ascend.” He went around as he was bidden and saw the cleft in the rock, but it was too narrow for him to climb in it. Then the sheep blew into the cleft and it spread out so wide that he entered it easily and clambered to the summit. Here he found the sheep standing in four tracks, marked or sunken in the rock, one hoof in each track, and under the center of his body was a small hole in the rock. Into this hole the sheep bade him enter; but he replied that the hole was too small. Then the sheep blew on the hole and it spread so wide open that both the man and the sheep entered easily and descended into the heart of the rock. Here there were again four apartments; two of them were blue and two were black; rainbows extended in all directions through them. In the fourth room, which was black, the sheep left the Navajo to rest, and departed. Soon the fugitive heard, as on the previous day, when he lay hidden in the cave of Qastcèëlçi, the voices of the angry Ute calling and haranguing all around the rock, and he continued to hear them for a very long time. Soon after the clamor ceased the sheep returned to him to notify him that his enemies had withdrawn and that he could set out on his journey again without fear.
[36.] He journeyed homeward all the night, and when daylight began to appear he found himself on the banks of the stream where the Ute slept the night before they reached their tents, when they bore him home a captive. Here again he heard in the distance the voices of his pursuers and he hastened his steps. Presently he met a little old man sitting on the ground and cleaning cactus fruit. The old man had a sharp nose, little bright eyes, and a small moustache growing on each side of his upper lip. At once the Navajo recognized him as the Bushrat (Neotoma mexicana). The latter asked the traveler where he came from. “Oh, I am just roaming around here,” was the answer. But the rat, not satisfied, repeated his question three times, in a manner which gave the Navajo to understand that his answer was not credited. So at last he answered truthfully that he was a Navajo who had been captured by the Ute, and that he was fleeing homeward from his captors, who were at that moment close behind him in pursuit. “It is well,” said the rat, “that you have told me this, for I think I can save you. On yonder hillside there is a flat rock, and round about it are piled many little sticks and stones. It is my home, and I will guide you thither.” He led the Indian to the rock and, showing him a small hole under it, bade him stoop low and place his head near the hole. As the Navajo obeyed the rat blew a strong breath on the hole, which at once opened wide enough to let the visitor in. The rat followed immediately behind him as he entered. Inside of the den there were an old woman, two young men, and two young women. These constituted the family of the Bush-rat, who left the den as soon as the stranger was safely housed. Soon the voices of the pursuing Ute were again heard around the rock and at the mouth of the den, and the Navajo sat a long time
in silence listening to them. After a while the rat woman said to him, “You seem to be tired and hungry. Will you have something to eat?” and he answered, “Yes; I am very hungry and would like some food.” On hearing this she went into one corner of her dwelling, where were many chips and bones and shells of seeds and skins of fruits, and she brought him some of these and offered them to him; but at this moment the wind god whispered into his ear and warned him not to partake of the refuse; so he said to the woman; “My mother, I can not eat these things.” Then she went to another corner of the den, where there was another pile of debris; but again the wind god prompted him and again he refused. After this she visited in turn two other piles of trash in the corners of her lodge and tried to make him accept it as food, but he still rejected it. Now, while he had been sitting in the lodge he had not failed to look around him, and he had observed a long row of wicker jars standing at one side. At one end of the row was a black vessel and at the other end a white vessel. When she at length asked him, “What food is it that you would have, my son?” the wind god whispered to him, “Ask her for that which is in the jars at the end of the row,” and he replied, “I will take some food from the black jar and some from the white jar.” She removed the stopples from the jars. From the black vessel she took nuts of the piñon and fruit of the yucca and from the white vessel she took cherries and cactus fruit, all of which he received in the folded corner of his elk robe. He was just about to partake of some of the nice fruit when again he heard the low voice of the wind god. This time it said, “Eat not the food of the rats in the home of the rats, if you would not become a rat; wait till you go out to-night.” Much, as he longed for the food, after hearing this, he tasted it not, but held it in the fold of the elk skin. Late in the day they were all astonished by hearing a loud rattling noise at the mouth of the cave, and, looking in that direction, saw the end of a big stick, which was thrust viciously from time to time into the opening and poked around in different directions; but it was not long enough to reach to the place where they sat. “What is that?” said the woman. “Oh,” answered the Navajo, “that is the Ute, who have trailed me to this hole and hope to kill me by poking that stick in here.” The old rat watched from a secret place outside all the actions of the Ute, and when he came home at night he asked his family if the stick had hurt any of them. “We saw only the end of it,” they replied. He then turned to the Navajo and said, “Your pursuers have disappeared; you may go out without fear.”
[37.] He trudged wearily on all night, and at dawn he was beside the high volcanic rocks at Çòtsosi, another place where his captors had halted with him. There is one place where the rocky wall is quite smooth. As he was passing this place he heard a voice saying, “Sh!” He looked all around him, but saw nothing that could have made the sound. He was about to pass on when he again heard the voice, and,
looking around, he again saw no one. The fourth time that this happened, however, he observed in the smooth part of the rock a door standing open and a little animal called Kleyatcini looking out at him. As he stood gazing at the sharp nose and the bright eyes the distant voices of his pursuers sounded again in his ears and the little animal bade him enter and hide himself. As the Navajo entered the Kleyatcini passed out and closed the door behind him. The fugitive was not long in his place of concealment when the clamor made by the foiled pursuers was again heard, but it ceased sooner than usual. It was not yet sunset when the little animal returned to announce that the Ute had gone from the neighborhood. When the Navajo stepped out of the hole in the rock, Kleyatcini pointed out to him the mountains in which his home lay and counseled him to travel directly towards them.
[38.] He pursued his way in the direction indicated to him all night, and at break of day he found himself walking between a pair of low hills of clay which stood close together, and once more he heard behind him the voices of his enemies and the trampling of their horses. But now his good friend Qastcèëlçi appeared to him and said to him: “My grandchild, are you still here? Have you come only thus far?” “I am here,” cried the Navajo, “and oh, my grandfather, I could do no better. Look at my limbs! See how sore and swollen they are! I am exhausted and feel that I cannot flee much farther before my enemies.” “Go, then,” said Qastcèëlçi, “to that hill which is the farther from us and climb to the top of it; but, when you are taking the very last step which will place you on the summit, shut your eyes as you make that step.” The Navajo hastened to the hill, and, weary as he was, he soon ascended it. As he lifted his foot to take the last step he closed his eyes, as the yay had bidden him. When he felt his foot again on the earth he opened his eyes, and lo! instead of having a little hill under his feet, he stood on the summit of a great mountain peak, seamed with deep cañons, bordered with rugged rocks, and clothed with great forests of pine and spruce; while far away on the plain at the foot of the mountain—so far that he could scarcely discern them—were his baffled pursuers, and beside him stood Qastcèëlçi. The latter pointed out to him many familiar places in the distance—the valley of the San Juan, and Dsilyi‘-qojòni (Beautiful in the Mountains), where he and his people first lived. He rested securely on the mountain top all day.
[39.] At sunset he went on his way again. When daylight began to appear he crossed the San Juan. Soon after, while journeying on over an open plain, he once more heard the Ute on his trail. He now felt very sad and hopeless, for his limbs were so stiff and swollen that every motion gave him pain and he could hardly drag himself along. But at this moment he became conscious that he was not alone, and glancing to one side he saw Niltci, the wind god, walking with him. And Niltci brought a great dark whirlwind, which roared a moment beside them and then buried its point in the ground and dug a deep hole
there; it dug a cavern with four chambers. Then dark clouds gathered and rain began to fall. “Have you anything with you that may help you?” asked the god. “I have nothing,” said the Navajo, “but four sprays of spruce, which the Yàybichy bade me pluck from the tree on which I descended into the cañon the night I left the Ute camp.” “They will do,” said the wind god. “Make quickly four balls of mud and thrust through each ball a twig of the spruce, and lay them on the ground so that the tops of the twigs will point towards your enemies.” The Navajo did as he was commanded. Then Niltci blew the twigs and mud balls in the direction of the pursuers and told the Navajo to descend into the retreat which the whirlwind had formed. He went down and rested secure, while he heard overhead great peals of thunder, the loud rushing of the tempest, and the heavy pattering of enormous hailstones, to bring which the mud balls had been made. The noises of the storm died away, and about midday Niltci came into the cave and said to the man: “Come forth; your enemies have been dispersed. Many have been killed by the hail, and the rest have gone towards their homes.” Then the Navajo came up out of the ground and set out in the direction of his old home at Dsilyi‘-qojòni.
[40.] It was about sunset when he reached the top of the mountain. The snow began to fall heavily and a strong wind began to blow. He walked on to the western brow of the mountain, where there was a great precipice. Here the storm blew with such violence that he could scarcely stand, and yet the precipice was so steep that he did not see how he could get down. But soon, as on a former occasion of this kind, he discovered a spruce tree which grew against the side of the precipice, and at the same time Qastcèëlçi appeared to him again and directed him to go down on the spruce tree. He did so, and when he reached the bottom he found the yay there awaiting him. He addressed Qastcèëlçi: “Oh, my grandfather, I am tired and sore and sleepy. I would like to lie down under this tree and sleep.” But the god answered, “Go, my grandchild, to yonder fire and rest,” and he pointed to a distant gleam on the side of a mountain which lay beyond a very deep valley. “No, my grandfather,” cried the Navajo, “I am weary and my limbs are sore and weak; I can not travel so far.” “I will help you,” said the yay, and as he spoke he spanned the valley with a flash of lightning, over which he led the man to the distant mountain. They reached it at a point close to the fire; but the moment they stood again on the firm earth Qastcèëlçi and the fire vanished. The man was bewildered and at a loss what to do. He walked around the mountain a short distance and then changed his mind and walked back to the place from which he started. Here he found Qastcèëlçi awaiting him. The yay spoke not a word, but pointed down into the valley and led the way thither. At the bottom of the valley they came to a great hole in the ground; the yay pointed in and again led the way. As they advanced into the cave the air grew warmer. In a little while they discovered a bright